History of the Origin, Formation, and Adoption of the Constitution of the United States, Vol. 2 / With Notices of Its Principle Framers

by George Ticknor Curtis

The negotiation of treaties was obviously a function that should be committed to the executive alone. But a treaty might undertake to dismember a State of part of its territory, or might otherwise affect its individual interests; and even where it concerned only the general interests of all the States, there was a great unwillingness to intrust the treaty-making power exclusively to the President. Here, the States, as equal political sovereignties, were unwilling to relax their hold upon the general government; and the result was that provision of the Constitution which makes the consent of two thirds of the Senators present necessary to the ratification of a treaty.

But if it was to have these great overruling powers, the Senate must have no voice in the appointment of the executive. There were two modes in which the election might be arranged, so as to prevent a mutual connection and influence between the Senate and the President. The one was, to allow the highest number of electoral votes to appoint the President;[164] the other was, to place the eventual election—no person having received a majority of all the electoral votes—in the House of Representatives. The latter plan was finally adopted, and the Senate was thus effectually severed from a dangerous connection with the executive.

This separation having been effected, the objections which had been urged against the length of the senatorial term became of little consequence. In the preparation of the plan marked out in the resolutions sent to the committee of detail, the Senate had been considered chiefly with reference to its legislative function; and the purpose of those who advocated a long term of office was to establish a body in the government of sufficient wisdom and firmness to interpose against the impetuous counsels and levelling tendencies of the democratic branch.[165] Six years was adopted as an intermediate period between the longest and the shortest of the terms proposed; and in order that there might be an infusion of different views and tendencies from time to time, it was provided that one third of the members should go out of office biennially.[166] Still, in the case of each individual senator, the period of six years was the longest of the limited terms of office created by the Constitution. Under the Confederation, the members of the Congress had been chosen annually, and were always liable to recall. The people of the United States were in general strongly disposed to a frequency of elections. A term of office for six years would be that feature of the proposed Senate most likely, in the popular mind, to be regarded as of an aristocratic tendency. If united with the powers that have just passed under our review, and if to those powers it could be said that an improper influence over the executive had been added, the system would in all probability be rejected by the people. But if the Senate were deprived of all agency in the appointment of the President, it would be mere declamation to complain of their term of office; for undoubtedly the peculiar duties assigned to the Senate could be best discharged by those who had had the longest experience in them. The solid objection to such a term being removed, the complaint of aristocratic tendencies would be confined to those who might wish to find plausible reasons for opposition, and might not wish to be satisfied with the true reasons for the provision.

Having now described the formation and the special powers of the two branches of the legislature, I proceed to inquire into the origin and history of the disqualifications to which the members were subjected.

The Constitution of the United States was framed and established by a generation of men, who had observed the operation upon the English legislature of that species of influence, by the crown or its servants, which, from the mode of its exercise, not seldom amounting to actual bribery, has received the appropriate name of parliamentary corruption. That generation of the American people knew but little—they cared less—about the origin of a method of governing the legislative body, which implies an open or a secret venality on the part of its members, and a willingness on the part of the administration to purchase their consent to its measures. What they did know and what they did regard was, that for a long succession of years the votes of members of Parliament had been bought, with money or office, by nearly every minister who had been at the head of affairs; that, if this practice had not been introduced under the prince who was placed upon the throne by the revolution of 1688, it had certainly grown to a kind of system in the hands of the statesmen by whom that revolution was effected, and had attained its greatest height under the first two princes of the house of Hanover; that it was freely and sometimes shamefully applied throughout the American war; and that, down to that day, no British statesman had had the sagacity to discover, and the virtue to adopt, a purer system of administration.[167] Whether this was a necessary vice of the English constitution; whether it was inherent or temporary; or whether it was only a stage in the development of parliamentary government, destined to pass away when the relations of the representative body to the people had become better settled,—could not then be seen even in England. But to our ancestors, when framing their Constitution, it presented itself as a momentous fact; whose warning was not the less powerful, because it came from the centre of institutions with which they had been most familiar, and from the country to which they traced their origin,—a country in which parliamentary government had had the fairest chances for success that the world had witnessed.

Yet it would not have been easy at that time, as it is not at the present, and as it may never be, to define with absolute precision the true limits which executive influence with the legislative body should not be suffered to pass. Still less is it easy to say that such influence ought not to exist at all;[168] although it is not difficult to say that there are methods in which it should not be suffered to be exercised. The more elevated and more clear-sighted public morality of the present age, in England and in America, condemns with equal severity and equal justice both the giver and the receiver in every transaction that can be regarded as a purchase of votes upon particular measures or occasions, whatever may have been the consideration or motive of the bargain. But whether that morality goes, or ought to go, farther,—whether it includes, or ought to include, in the same condemnation, every form of influence by which an administration can add extrinsic weight to the merits of its measures,—is a question that admits of discussion.

It may be said, assuming the good intentions of an administration, and the correctness of its policy and measures, that its policy and its measures should address themselves solely to the patriotism and sense of right of the members of the legislative department. But an ever active patriotism and a never failing sense of right are not always, if often, to be found; the members of a legislative body are men, with the imperfections, the failings, and the passions of men; and if pure patriotism and right perceptions of duty are alone relied upon, they may, and sometimes inevitably will be, found wanting. On the other hand, it is just as true, that the persons composing every administration are mere men, and that it will not do to assume their wisdom and good intentions as the sole foundations on which to rest the public security, leaving them at liberty to use all the appliances that may be found effectual for gaining right ends, and overlooking the character of the means. One of the principal reasons for the establishment of different departments, in the class of governments to which ours belongs, is, that perfect virtue and unerring wisdom are not to be predicated of any man in any station. If they were, a simple despotism would be the best and the only necessary form of government.

All correct reasoning on this subject, and all true construction of governments like ours, must commence with two propositions, one of which embraces a truth of political science, and the other a truth of general morals. The first is, that, while the different functions of government are to be distributed among different persons, and to be kept distinctly separated, in order that there may be both division of labor and checks against the abuse of power, it is occasionally necessary that some room should be allowed for supplying the want of wisdom or virtue in one department by the wisdom or virtue of another. In matters of government depending on mere discretion, unlimited confidence cannot with safety be placed anywhere.[169] The other proposition is the very plain axiom in morals, that, while in all human transactions there may be bad means employed to effect a worthy object, the character of those means can never be altered, nor their use justified, by the character of the end. With these two propositions admitted, what is to be done is to discover that arrangement of the powers and relations of the different departments whose acts involve, more or less, the exercise of pure discretion, which will give the best effect to both of these truths; and as all government and all details of government, to be useful, must be practically adapted to the nature of man, it will be found that an approximation in practice to a perfect theory is all that can be attained.

Thus the general duties and powers of the legislative and the executive departments are capable of distinct separation. The one is to make, the other is to execute the laws. But execution of the laws of necessity involves administration, and administration makes it necessary that there should be an executive policy. To carry out that policy requires new laws; authority must be obtained to do acts not before authorized; and supplies must be perpetually renewed. The executive stands therefore in a close relation to the legislative department;—a relation which makes it necessary for the one to appeal frequently, and indeed constantly, to the discretion of the other. If the executive is left at liberty to purchase what it believes or alleges to be the right exercise of that discretion, by the inducements of money or office applied to a particular case, the rule of common morals is violated; conscience becomes false to duty, and corruption, having once entered the body politic, may be employed to effect bad ends as well as good. Nay, as bad ends will stand most in need of its influence, it will be applied the most grossly where the object to be attained is the most culpable. On the other hand, if the members of the legislative body, by being made incapable of accepting the higher or more lucrative offices of state, are cut off from those inducements to right conduct and a true ambition which the imperfections of our nature have made not only powerful, but sometimes necessary, aids to virtue, the public service may have no other security than their uncertain impulses or imperfect judgments. In the midst of such tendencies to opposite mischiefs, all that human wisdom and foresight can do is, to anticipate and prevent the evils of both extremes, by provisions which will guard both the interests of morality and the interests of political expediency as completely as circumstances will allow.

I am persuaded it was upon such principles as I have thus endeavored to state, that the framers of our national Constitution intended to regulate this very difficult part of the relations between the executive and the legislature. During a considerable period, however, of their deliberations on the disabilities to which it would be proper to subject the members of the latter department, they had another example before them besides that afforded by the history of parliamentary corruption in England. The Congress of the Confederation had of course the sole power of appointment to offices under the authority of the United States; and although there is no reason to suppose that body at any time to have been justly chargeable with corrupt motives, there were complaints of the frequency with which it had filled the offices which it had created with its own members. In these complaints, the people overlooked the justification. They forgot that the nature of the government, and the circumstances of the country, rendered it difficult for an assembly which both made and filled the offices, and which exercised its functions at a time when the State governments absorbed by far the greater part of the interests and attention of their citizens, to find suitable men out of its own ranks. In that condition of things, it might have been expected,—and it implies no improper purpose,—that offices would be sometimes framed or regulated with a view to their being filled by particular persons. But the complaints existed;[170] the evil was one that tended constantly to become worse; and, in framing the new government, this was the first aspect in which the influence of office and its emoluments presented itself to the Convention.