Instructions to Senators are always given by a solemn, deliberate, recorded act, passed by an organized body of representatives, responsible themselves to the people. Every delegate must account for the principles involved in his vote; but this responsibility is not generally held over him so rigidly when he votes for a Senator, unless he votes under express instructions, or the candidates represent opposite political principles. Many excuses may be given for voting for A in preference to B, though the latter may be most popular with the immediate constituents of the delegate; but the principles in the instructions must be fairly met and fully justified, to satisfy the people. Hence a greater responsibility is secured by instructions than by frequent elections.

A Senator who loves his country more than his place, can never fear instructions. They cannot, of course, then impair his independence or his firmness. The most which the fear of them ever could effect, would be to make him do the will of his constituents, which could surely do him no special harm. It was never supposed that the duration of office was to make a Senator firm against his constituents, and independent of their expressed will. But he was to be firm against his own fears, and independent of the House of Representatives or popular commotion. He is surely sufficiently far removed from the latter, when it can only affect him through the deliberate voice of two separate houses of the State Legislature. And then in truth it cannot affect himhe has nothing to dread: it only affects the vote of which he is the depository, and cannot remove him from his place. Is there no difference between a disposition to cater to every temporary whim or caprice which may sweep over the multitude, for fear of not being re-elected at the end of a short term, and a voluntary obedience to their deliberate will, expressed through two branches of their representatives? The House of Representatives will be sensitive at once to any commotion among the people. A temporary and dangerous excitement might lead them into improper acts, for fear of being turned out at the end of their short term. This house was expected to be thus sensitive, but the Senator's tenure of six years was given as a check to prevent this tendency from carrying the other house too far. That cannot be called a popular commotion which reaches him by the deliberate voice of two separate legislative bodies, acting under responsibility; but must be assumed by the Senator to be the deliberate judgment of all the people: it is, at all events, the deliberate judgment of all to whom he has a right to look. The Legislature has power by the constitution to elect him, and this carries with it the right to instruct him. But they exercise both these powers vicariously, and if they mistake the will of the people, they are responsible for their instructions, not the Senator for his obedience. His responsibility is removed by obedience or resignation. If he is “the anchor against popular fluctuations,” it is proper that like all other anchors, he should be hauled up when a favorable and permanent breeze enables the ship to proceed; and of this—not the anchor, but—those above it must judge. And if he hooks his fluke too deeply in the moorings, it is clear that unless there is a “capstan and cable” somewhere, he transcends the sphere of his utility, and does more harm than good by making a temporary stay a permanent fixture. PATRICK HENRY wanted to give the Legislature power in such cases to cut the cable; and I think it would be well if such a power could be lodged with the people in cases of disobedience, or other flagitious offences on the part of Senators.

But to meet the argument of the Judge fully, it is only fair to quote it:

“Mr. Madison's second reason for having a Senate, or second branch of the Legislative Assembly, is thus stated: ‘The necessity of a Senate is not less indicated by the propensity of all single and numerous assemblies to yield to the impulse of sudden and violent passions, and to be seduced by factious leaders into intemperate and pernicious resolutions.’ If this is true of the House of Representatives of the United States; if their intemperate and pernicious resolutions are to be guarded against and controlled by the more sedate and permanent power of the Senate, how much stronger is the reason when applied to the Legislatures of the States? Having their narrow views of national questions, and their local designs and interests as the first objects of their attention, it seems to me to be a strange absurdity to put the Senate as a guard and control over the House of Representatives, and then to have that Senate under the direction and control of the Legislatures of the States—or it may be, on a vital question, under the direction of the Legislature of the smallest State in the Union. Are there no local impulses and passions to agitate these Legislatures? no factious leaders to seduce them into intemperate and pernicious resolutions—and to induce them to prefer some little, local advantage, to ‘the general welfare?’ To give to the Senate the power, the will, and the courage to oppose and control these sudden and violent passions in the more popular branch of our national legislature, Mr. Madison says, ‘It ought moreover to possess great firmness, and consequently ought to hold its authority by a tenure of considerable duration.’ But what can that firmness avail, how will it be shaken, of what possible use will it be, if the Senator is bound to follow the dictates of a changing body, subject, emphatically to sudden impulses and seductions, at a distance from the scene of his deliberations, and deprived of the sources of information which he possesses, and acting in a different sphere of duty from that he moves in? Firmness in an agent who has no will of his own, no right to act but on the dictation of another, would not only be superfluous, but a positive evil and disqualification. It would produce struggles and perhaps refusal, where his duty was to submit. The more pliable the instrument in such a case, the belter would it answer the purposes it was designed for. To be firm, says Mr. Madison, the Senator must hold his authority by a tenure of considerable duration. But how can this be, if he is to hold it from year to year as the Legislature of his State may change its opinion on the same subject, and require him to follow these changes or to resign his place? The tenure of the Constitution, as Mr. Madison understood it, is essentially changed by this doctrine. These changes of opinions and measures are, in the opinion of Mr. Madison, a great and dangerous evil in any government, and show ‘the necessity of some stable institution’ such as our Senate was intended to be—but such as it cannot be on this doctrine of instructions.”

I must admit my inability to perceive the propriety of the Judge's conclusions from Mr. Madison's premises. He is afraid of instructions, because single and numerous bodies are apt to yield to passion and faction, and he hence thinks it absurd to place the Senate as a check upon the House of Representatives, if the State Legislatures are to remain as a check upon the Senate. There seems to be a double fallacy in this. Does the Senate possess an exclusive patent of exemption from faction and passion, and the other frailties of human nature, to which the House of Representatives and both branches of the State Legislature, are to be held peculiarly liable? The Senate, as a body, would not be checked by the State Legislatures, unless a majority was instructed; and if this was the case, we must suppose instructions sanctioned by so many bodies to be the dictates of true wisdom, and not the offspring of faction and passion. If only a few Senators are instructed, we must suppose the object to be deemed important by the instructing States; and so far from the likelihood of sudden or violent passion, or the seductions of factious leaders thus affecting Legislation, we find the securities proposed by Mr. Madison quadrupled in numbers, increased by the distance of the bodies, and doubled by the difference in their constitution. If two federal legislative bodies are likely to ensure the defeat of faction and passion, when both belong to the same government—the members of both are members of the same political parties, and both meet at the same place, how much less likely is passion or faction to succeed by means of instructions, when it has first to encounter the federal House of Representatives, and then in succession a State House of Delegates, and a State Senate, and lastly the chance of an uninstructed, or differently instructed majority in the federal Senate. Surely Judge H. forgot the dignity and candor of the philosophical inquirer, and in vindication of a favorite theory, assumed the armor of a partizan, when he contended, that the faction and passion intended to be defeated by the constitution of the Senate, would be promoted by adding additional checks—checks, too, which we cannot doubt were contemplated as one of the principal means of rendering the check afforded by the Senate effective. So far from promoting hasty, passionate, or factious legislation, do not these numerous checks present almost too many difficulties to the execution of the deliberate will of the people, which the Judge admits ought to govern? In doubtful questions, when parties are nicely balanced, a few recreant representatives, in either of the four bodies, can easily defeat any measure, however necessary, or earnestly desired by their constituents. If we suppose with the Judge, that the Senate is to be entirely controlled by the State Legislatures, then we should have fifty-three different deliberative bodies, representing the people in different capacities, and by different ratios, acting upon one subject. No measure could be carried through this ordeal by faction or passion, and instead of bringing us “back to a simple turbulent democracy,” we should have the best and the greatest quantity of checks upon turbulent legislation, of which any country could boast. If measures thus passed were not wise, it must be because the intelligence of the country is defective, and not because it is blinded by passion. The same reasoning applies to the instructions of any less number than the whole, because the uninstructed Senators must be presumed to act in accordance with the opinions of their constituents, and thus whether the instructed members carry their point, or are overruled by a majority, the deliberate sense of the community governs. But upon the theory of Judge H., not the sense of the community, whether deliberate or vaccillating, but the arbitrary and adverse will of the individuals who happen to be Senators, disposes of every thing which we hold dear—not only the lives and fortunes of our people, but the very constitution of our country. If a State may have “narrow views,” so may an individual. If a State may not wish to be taxed to cut a little inland canal, two thousand miles off, a Senator may wish an embassy, or a department, or a bank accommodation, or a federal judgeship. But if the States do have local views and interests, are they not bound to protect them, and have they not equal votes in the Senate for this very purpose? Mr. Jay says, “enlightened policy will soon teach that the interests of the whole can only be promoted by a proper regard for the interests of the parts.” If the States wish to oppress others, or advance themselves at the expense of all, they will be certainly overruled by the majority. If they wish to protect themselves from oppression, they ought to have weight, and no human being should have power to throw their own weight against them.

The people of the states would be peculiarly destitute of protection, if they could not instruct their Senators, because from the size of the districts and number of the constituents, it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to instruct a member of the House of Representatives, and hence PATRICK HENRY'S uneasiness for fear the Senator should disobey. What if the Senate should be “on a vital question under the control of the smallest state in the Union?”—Are the two houses of the Legislature of the smallest state less honest or less intelligent, than the individual Senator, who by supposition is about to oppose his own constituents and at least half of his co-Senators? Where is the evil? The will of the Legislature, which is responsible, prevails over that of the Senator, who is not responsible, unless he is for disobedience. Which adjustment of the question ought, by the theory of our government, to be most satisfactory? We cannot hold instructions to be an evidence of passion or faction in the Legislature, but disobedience we must hold to be a ground for suspecting the Senate. If neither of these operated, I can conceive no reason for not resigning, when obedience would be wicked or disgraceful. If Mr. Madison required firmness and independence in the Senator, against the instructions of his own constituents, as well as against the acts of the House of Representatives, as Judge H. supposes, then it is clear that he knew and understood the right, and its obligation, and feared it, and wished to provide against it, by protecting the Senator from its force. If such was his purpose, how egregiously has he failed—how bungling has been his work—how disingenuous his course—how unlike in all respects, is this to the other works of that great man? The length of term did not protect from instructions, because a Senator of one year may be instructed as well as one of six years. Where is the protection against this awful right? Mr. M. knew that it existed under the articles of confederation, and was exercised, yet he did not prohibit it in the constitution. He feared the power to recall, and he took away that; but it seems he feared this right, and left it. It is true that he provided no punishment for disobedience, but none existed under the confederation, and none had ever been found necessary in the British Parliament, the Convention of New Hampshire, the Congress, or the State Legislatures. If he feared the right, he must have wished it uprooted, yet he left it precisely as he found it. He was particularly cautious in concealing his antipathy in the Virginia Convention and the Federalist. In the latter he speaks of firmness necessary to resist the House of Representatives, and transient popular commotions which might affect that body, and I doubt not he meant to require firmness in obedience to instructions against the wishes of the House of Representatives as much as in any thing else. In the Virginia Convention he heard loud calls for the protection of the right, yet never denied its existence.

Suppose a question arises in the House of Representatives dangerous to a state. It is carried in that body by passion or faction against such manifestations of popular will as can be given. It is believed the Senators will go the same way. The people have no resource left, but instructions through their State Legislature. If this has no effect, our servants are our masters, and we are ruled by an oligarchy the more odious, because it presents us with a mockery of representation.

But it seems that Mr. Madison thinks the Senate “may be sometimes necessary as a defence to the people against their own temporary errors and delusions; he justly applauds the salutary interference in critical moments, of some respectable and temperate body of citizens, to check the misguided career, and to suspend the blow mediated by the people against themselves, until reason, justice, and truth can regain their authority over the public mind.” This is correct reasoning, but it cannot apply to the States or their Legislatures, but must allude to the people of the Union and the House of Representatives. The Senate cannot defend the people of any state from their own temporary delusions, or afford a salutary interference with the proceedings of a State Legislature. The latter body is supposed competent to act for itself, and not to require the protection of the United States Senate, and still less of an individual Senator. This argument might be urged in favor of a Senator instructing a State Legislature, with more propriety than against the reverse operation, because under the present system the State Legislatures have no connection with the United States Senators unless they instruct them, and thus if they choose to be wilful and refuse to instruct them, which by this new construction would be to ask his advice, they may ruin the people by their temporary errors and delusions, without ever giving their Senator the power to save them by the salutary interference of his “respectable and temperate” mandate.

But it is admitted that a temporary delusion may possibly exist among the people, which may induce the House of Representatives to pass acts so dangerous that it may be necessary for the Senate to “suspend” them. “But the deliberate sense of the community, ought and ultimately will prevail.” And yet a Senator has power to defeat this deliberate sense, as well as the temporary errors and delusions. He may suspend a good act, or he may fail to suspend a bad act. He may not only not concur with the House of Representatives when he ought, but he may concur with it when he ought not. Shall we have no “capstan and cable” to draw up our anchor in the one case, and no power to throw it out in the other? Must the temporary delusion prevail over the people's rights for six years, or the deliberate sense be delayed its healthy action for six years? Either question may be of vital and immediate importance. The single vote may saddle us with an enormous bank, with a controlling capital and an unlimited charter, or an oppressive tariff, which could not be repealed without ruin to many, or continued without ruin to ourselves. The temporary delusion may be a spirit of fanaticism, which may annihilate at a single blow, and forever, political peace and domestic happiness in half the Union, and yet the Senator may be infected with the contagion. A judgeship for life, or boundless wealth, may warp honest opinions, or buy up bankrupt profligacy. In short, a Senator may be sometimes wrong as well as the House of Representatives and the two branches of a State Legislature, and if he is a despot for the time of his election, he may do infinite mischief:—if he can be controlled by his State Legislature in particular votes by special instructions, he cannot do much harm, and may do as much good as the wisdom of his state, which is wiser than he is, will permit. Mr. Madison, when he spoke of the interference of the Senate, never could have meant to characterize the solemn and deliberate acts of a State Legislature, as the temporary errors and delusions of the people. Besides being too accurate in his language for this construction, he could not but believe that instructions would convey at least the best judgment of a majority of the Legislature. And he could not suppose it necessary for the United States Senator to protect the people against the best judgment of their own Legislature. The State Legislatures, in practice, possess the sovereign authority of the State; they make laws, and dispose of our persons and property; shall we appeal from them to their creature, the Senator, for protection?

If MR. MADISON had meant this he would certainly not only have prohibited State instructions to the Senator, but enforced Senatorial instructions to the Legislature. Why were we left without this protection from our temporary errors and delusions in so many important cases, and only provided with it in those cases in which we venture to instruct Senators? This doctrine proves too much. Why was Mr. Madison silent in our Convention, when his coadjutors asserted this right? When HENRY so often objected a want of power to enforce it, why did Mr. M. not say at once it did not exist, and end the objection? If he had said so, and contended for the correctness of his position on the ground that the Senator must be firm against his own masters, and independent of his own constituents, to protect the people of the States from themselves, would this constitution have been ratified by Virginia? Never. One blast of HENRY'S soul-stirring bugle would have called all his kindred spirits around him—he whose keen scent could snuff tyranny in the tainted gale, would have spurned an elective as haughtily as he had an hereditary tyrant—the debates would have ended there—the friends of the constitution and of Madison would have deserted him—the deceptive parchment would have been trodden under foot, and its noble champion left its only advocate. No one can read HENRY'S anxious searching after the responsibility of Senators, and his earnest calls for the power of enforcing obedience, and believe it would have been otherwise. He laughs to scorn the argument that they will be good men, from which MR. MADISON wishes him to infer that they would obey. With what withering contempt then would he have received a proposition to make them constitutionally independent, as he feared they would be actually? And to have told him that this was necessary to make them firm against us, would have been only an aggravation of the insult.