A Biography of Henry Clay, the Senator from Kentucky / Containing Also, a Complete Report of All His Speeches; Selections From His Private Correspondence; Eulogies in the Senate and House; and a Poem, by George D. Prentice, Esq.

by Unknown

If an impeachment had been actually voted by the house of representatives, there is nothing in the constitution which enjoins silence on the part of the senate. In such a case, it would have been a matter of propriety for the consideration of each senator to avoid the expression of any opinion on a matter upon which, as a sworn judge, he would be called to act.

Hitherto I have considered the question on the supposition, that the resolution of March, 1834, implied such guilt in the president, that he would have been liable to conviction on a trial by impeachment before the senate of the United States. But the resolution, in fact, imported no such guilt. It simply affirmed, that he had ‘assumed upon himself authority and power not conferred by the constitution and laws, but in derogation of both.’ It imputed no criminal motives. It did not profess to penetrate into the heart of the president. According to the phraseology of the resolution, the exceptionable act might have been performed with the purest and most patriotic intention. The resolution neither affirmed his innocence, nor pronounced his guilt. It amounts, then, say his friends on this floor, to nothing. Not so. If the constitution be trampled upon, and the laws be violated, the injury may be equally great, whether it has been done with good or bad intentions. There may be a difference to the officer, none to the country. The country, as all experience demonstrates, has most reason to apprehend those encroachments which take place on plausible pretexts, and with good intentions.

I put it, Mr. President, to the calm and deliberate consideration of the majority of the senate, are you ready to pronounce, in the face of this enlightened community, for all time to come, and whoever may happen to be president, that the senate dare not, in language the most inoffensive and respectful, remonstrate against any executive usurpation, whatever may be its degree or danger?

For one, I will not, I cannot. I believe the resolution of March, 1834, to have been true; and that it was competent to the senate to proclaim the truth. And I solemnly believe, that the senate would have been culpably neglectful of its duty to itself, to the constitution, and to the country, if it had not announced the truth.

But let me suppose that in all this I am mistaken; that the act of the president, to which exception was made, was in conformity with the spirit of our free institutions, and the language of our constitution and laws; and that, whether it was or not, the senate of 1834 had no authority to pass judgment upon it; what right hasthe senate of 1837, a component part of another congress, to pronounce judgment upon its predecessor? How can you, who venture to impute to those who have gone before you an unconstitutional proceeding, escape a similar imputation? What part of the constitution communicates to you any authority to assign and try your predecessors? In what article is contained your power to expunge what they have done? And may not the precedent lead to a perpetual code of defacement and restoration of the transactions of the senate, as consigned to the public records?

Are you not only destitute of all authority, but positively forbidden to do what the expunging resolution proposes? The injunction of the constitution to keep a journal of our proceedings is clear, express, and emphatic. It is free from ambiguity; no sophistry can pervert the explicit language of the instrument; no artful device can elude the force of the obligation which it imposes. If it were possible to make more manifest the duty which it requires to be performed, that was done by the able and eloquent speeches, at the last session, of the senators from Virginia and Louisiana, (Messrs. Leigh and Porter,) and at this of my colleague. I shall not repeat the argument. But I would ask, if there were no constitutional requirement to keep a journal, what constitutional right has the senate of this congress to pass in judgment upon the senate of another congress, and to expunge from its journal a deliberate act there recorded? Can an unconstitutional act of that senate, supposing it to be so, justify you in performing another unconstitutional act?

But, in lieu of any argument upon the point from me, I beg leave to cite for the consideration of the senate two precedents; one drawn from the reign of the most despotic monarch in modern Europe, under the most despotic minister that ever bore sway over any people; and the other from the purest fountain of democracy in this country. I quote from the interesting life of the cardinal Richelieu, written by that most admirable and popular author, Mr. James. The duke of Orleans, the brother of Louis XIII, had been goaded into rebellion by the wary Richelieu. The king issued a decree declaring all the supporters of the duke guilty of high treason, and a copy of it was despatched to the parliament at Paris, with an order to register it at once. The parliament demurred, and proceeded to what was called an arret de partage.

‘Richelieu, however, could bear no contradiction in the course which he had laid down for himself;’ [how strong a resemblance does that feature of his character bear to one of an illustrious individual whom I will not further describe!] ‘and hurrying back to Paris with the king, he sent, in the monarch’s name, a command for the members of the parliament to present themselves at the Louvre in a body, and on foot. He was obeyed immediately; and the king receiving them with great haughtiness, the keeper of the seals made them a speech, in which he declared that they had no authority to deliberate upon affairs of state; that the business of private individuals they might discuss, but that the will of the monarch in other matters they were alone called upon to register. The king then tore with his own hands the page of theregister on which the arret de partage had been inscribed, and punished with suspension from their functions several of the members of the various courts composing the parliament of Paris.’

How repeated acts of the exercise of arbitrary power are likely to subdue the spirit of liberty, and to render callous the public sensibility, and the fate which awaits us, if we had not been recently unhappily taught in this country, we may learn from the same author.

‘The finances of the state were exhausted, new impositions were devised, and a number of new offices created and sold. Against the last-named abuse the parliament ventured to remonstrate; but the government of the cardinal had for its first principle despotism, and the refractory members were punished, some with exile, some with suspension of their functions. All were forced to comply with his will, and the parliament, unable to resist, yielded, step by step, to his exactions.’