The Constitution of the United States has carefully provided against such an enormous evil, by declaring that “the House of Representatives shall have the sole power of impeachment,” and “the Senate shall have the sole power to try all impeachments.” Until the accused is brought before us by the House, it is a manifest violation of our solemn duty to condemn him by a resolution.

If a court of criminal jurisdiction, without any indictment having been found by a grand jury, without having given the defendant notice to appear, without having afforded him an opportunity of cross-examining the witnesses against him, and making his defence, should resolve that he was guilty of a high crime, and place this conviction upon their records, all mankind would exclaim against the injustice and unconstitutionality of the act. Wherein consists the difference between this case and the condemnation of the President? In nothing, except that such a conviction by the Senate, on account of its exalted character, would fall with tenfold force upon its object. I have often been astonished, notwithstanding the extended and well deserved popularity of General Jackson, that the moral influence of this condemnation by the Senate had not crushed him. With what tremendous effect might this assumed power of the Senate be used to blast the reputation of any man who might fall under its displeasure! The precedent is extremely dangerous; and the American people have wisely determined to blot it out forever.

It is painful to reflect what might have been the condition of the country, if at the inauspicious moment of the passage of the resolution against the President, its interests and its honor had rendered it necessary to engage in a foreign war. The fearful consequences of such a condition, at such a moment, must strike every mind. Would the Senate then have confided to the President the necessary power to defend the country? Where could the sinews of war have been found? In what condition was this body, at that moment, to act upon an important treaty negotiated by the President, or upon any of his nominations? But I forbear to enlarge upon this topic.

I have now arrived at the last point in this discussion. Do the Senate possess the power, under the Constitution, of expunging the resolution of March, 1834, from their journals, in the manner proposed by the Senator from Missouri? (Mr. Benton.) I cheerfully admit we must show that this is not contrary to the Constitution; for we can never redress one violation of that instrument by committing another. Before I proceed to this branch of the subject, I shall put myself right, by a brief historical reminiscence. I entered the Senate in December, 1834, fresh from the ranks of the people, without the slightest feeling of hostility against any Senator on this floor. I then thought that the resolution of the Senator from Missouri was too severe in proposing to expunge. Although I was anxious to record, in strong terms, my entire disapprobation of the resolution of March, 1834, yet I was willing to accomplish this object without doing more violence to the feelings of my associates on this floor, than was absolutely necessary to justify the President. Actuated by these friendly motives, I exerted all my little influence with the Senator from Missouri, to induce him to abandon the word expunge, and substitute some others in its place. I knew that this word was exceedingly obnoxious to the Senators who had voted for the former resolution. Other friends of his also exerted their influence; and at length his kindly feelings prevailed, and he consented to abandon that word, although it was peculiarly dear to him. I speak from my own knowledge. “All which I saw and part of which I was.”

The resolution of the Senator from Missouri came before the Senate on the 3d of March, 1835. Under it the resolution of March, 1834, was “ordered to be expunged from the journal,” for reasons appearing on its face, which I need not enumerate. The Senator from Tennessee (Mr. White) moved to amend the resolution of the Senator from Missouri, by striking out the order to expunge, with the reasons for it, and inserting in their stead the words, “rescinded, reversed, repealed, and declared to be null and void.” Some difference of opinion then arose among the friends of the Administration as to the words which should be substituted in place of the order to expunge. For the purpose of leaving this question perfectly open, you, sir, (Mr. King, of Alabama, was in the chair,) then moved to amend the original motion of Mr. Benton, by striking out the words, “ordered to be expunged from the journal of the Senate.” This motion prevailed, on the ayes and noes, by a vote of 39 to 7; and amongst the ayes, the name of the Senator from Missouri is recorded. The resolution was thus left a blank, in its most essential features, ready to be filled up as the Senate might direct. The era of good feeling, in regard to this subject had commenced. It was nipped in the bud, however, by the Senator from Massachusetts (Mr. Webster). Whilst the resolution was still in blank, he rose in his place, and proclaimed the triumph of the Constitution, by the vote to strike out the word expunge, and then moved to lay the resolution on the table, declaring that he would neither withdraw his motion for friend nor foe. This motion precluded all amendment and all debate. It prevailed by a party vote; and thus we were left with our resolution a blank. Such was the manner in which the Senators in opposition received our advances of courtesy and kindness, in the moment of their strength and our weakness. Had the Senator from Massachusetts suffered us to proceed but for five minutes, we should have filled up the blank in the resolution. It would then have assumed a distinct form, and they would never afterwards have heard of the word expunge. We should have been content with the words “rescinded, reversed, repealed, and declared to be null and void.” But the conduct of the Senator from Massachusetts on that occasion, and that of the party with which he acted, roused the indignation of every friend of the Administration on this floor. We then determined that the word expunge should never again be surrendered.

The Senator from Kentucky has introduced a precedent from the proceedings of the House of Representatives of Pennsylvania, for the purpose of proving that we have no right to adopt this resolution. To this I can have no possible objection. But I can tell the Senator, if I were convinced that I had voted wrong, when comparatively a boy, more than twenty years ago, the fear of being termed inconsistent would not now deter me from voting right upon the same question. I do not, however, repent of my vote upon that occasion. I would now vote in the same manner, under similar circumstances. I should not vote to expunge, under any circumstances, any proceeding from the journals by obliterating the record. If I do not prove before I take my seat, that the case in the Legislature of Pennsylvania was essentially different from that now before the Senate, I shall agree to be proclaimed inconsistent and time-serving.

It was my settled conviction at the commencement of the last session of Congress, that the Senate had no power to obliterate their journal. This was shaken, but not removed, by the argument of the Senator from Louisiana, (Mr. Porter), who confessedly made the ablest speech on the other side of the question. The Constitution declares that “each House shall keep a journal of its proceedings, and from time to time publish the same, excepting such parts as may in their judgment require secrecy.” What was the position which that Senator then attempted to maintain? In order to prove that we had no power to obliterate or destroy our journals, he thought it necessary to contend that the word “keep” as used in the Constitution, means both to record and to preserve. This appeared to me to be a mere begging of the question.

I shall attempt no definition of the word “keep.” At least since the days of Plato, we know that definitions have been dangerous. Yet I think that the meaning of this word, as applied to the subject matter, is so plain that he who runs may read. If I direct my agent to keep a journal of his proceedings, and publish the same, my palpable meaning is, that he shall write these proceedings down, from day to day, and publish what he has written for general information. After he has obeyed my commands, after he has kept his journal, and published it to the world, he has executed the essential part of the trust confided to him. What becomes of this original manuscript journal afterwards, is a matter of total indifference. So in regard to the manuscript journals of either House of Congress: after more than a thousand copies have been printed, and published, and distributed over the Union, it is a matter of not the least importance what disposition may be made of them. They have answered their purpose, and, in any practical view, become useless. If they were burnt, or otherwise destroyed, it would not be an event of the slightest public consequence. Such indifference has prevailed upon this subject, that these journals have been considered, in the House of Representatives, as so much waste paper, and, during a period of thirty-four years after the organization of the Government, they were actually destroyed. From this circumstance, no public or private inconvenience has been or ever can be sustained; because our printed journals are received in evidence in all courts of justice in the same manner as if the originals were produced.

The Senator from Louisiana has discovered that to “keep” means both “to record” and “to preserve.” But can you give this, or any other word in the English language, two distinct and independent meanings at the same time, as applied to the same subject? I think not. From the imperfection of human language, from the impossibility of having appropriate words to express every idea, the same word, as applied to different subjects, has a variety of significations. As applied to any one subject, it cannot, at the same time, convey two distinct meanings. In the Constitution it must mean either “to write down,” or “to preserve.” It cannot have both significations. Let Senators, then, take their choice. If it signifies “to write down,” as it unquestionably does, what becomes of the constitutional injunction to preserve? The truth is, that the Constitution has not provided what shall be done with the manuscript journal, after it has served the purposes for which it was called into existence. When it has been published to the people of the United States, for whose use it was ordered to be kept; after it has thus been perpetuated, and they have been furnished with the means of judging of the public conduct of their public servants, it ceases to be an object of the least importance. Whether it be thrown into the garret of the Capitol with other useless lumber, or be destroyed, is a matter of no public interest. It has probably never once been referred to in the history of our Government. If it should ever be determined to be a violation of the Constitution to obliterate or destroy this manuscript journal, it must be upon different principles from those which have been urged in this debate. My own impression is, that as the framers of the Constitution have directed us to keep a journal, a constructive duty may be implied from this command, which would forbid us to obliterate or destroy it. Under this impression, I should vote, as I did twenty years ago, in the Legislature of Pennsylvania, against any proposition actually to expunge any part of the journal. But waiving this unprofitable discussion, let us proceed to the real point in controversy.

Is any such proceeding as that of actually expunging the journal, proposed by the resolution of the Senator from Missouri? I answer, no such thing. If the Constitution had, in express terms, directed us to record and to preserve a journal of our proceedings, there is nothing in the resolution now before us which would be inconsistent with such a provision.

Is the drawing of a black line around the resolution of the Senate, of March, 1834, to obliterate or deface it? On the contrary, is it not to render it more conspicuous,—to place it in bold relief,—to give it a prominence in the public view, beyond any other proceeding of this body, in past, and I trust, in all future time. If the argument of Senators were, not that we have no power to obliterate; but that the Senate possessed no power to render one portion of the journal more conspicuous than another, it would have had much greater force. Why, sir, by means of this very proceeding, that portion of our journal upon which it operates will be rescued from a slumber which would otherwise have been eternal, and, fac-similes of the original resolution, without a word or a letter defaced, will be circulated over the whole Union.

But, sir, this resolution also directs that across the face of the condemnatory resolution there shall be written by the Secretary, “Expunged by the order of the Senate this —— day of ——, in the year of our Lord 1837.”

Will this obliterate any part of the original resolution? If it does, the duty of the Secretary will be performed in a very bungling manner. No such thing is intended. It would be easy to remove every scruple from every mind upon this subject, by amending the resolution of the Senator from Missouri, so as to direct the Secretary to perform his duty in such a manner as not to obliterate any part of the condemnatory resolution. Such a direction, however, appears to me to be wholly unnecessary. The nature of the whole proceeding is very plain. We now adopt a resolution, expressing our strong reprobation of the original resolution; and for this purpose we use the word “expunged,” as the strongest term which we can apply. We then direct our Secretary to draw black lines around it, and place such a reference to our proceedings of this day upon its face, that in all time to come, whoever may inspect this portion of our journal, will be pointed at once to the record of its condemnation. What lawyer has not observed upon the margin of the judgment docket, if the original judgment has been removed to a superior court, and there reversed, a minute of such reversal? In our editions of the statutes, have we not all noted the repeal of any of them, which may have taken place at a subsequent period? Who ever heard, in the one case or the other, that this was obliterating or destroying the record, or the book? So in this case, we make a mere reference to our future proceeding upon the face of the resolution, instead of the margin. Suppose we should only repeal the obnoxious resolution, and direct such a reference to be made upon its face? Would any Senator contend that this would be an obliteration of the journal?

But it has been contended that the word expunge is not the appropriate word; and we have wrested it from its true signification, in applying it to the present case. Even if this allegation were correct, the answer would be at hand. You might then convict us of bad taste, but not of a violation of the Constitution. On the face of the resolution we have stated distinctly what we mean. We have directed the Secretary in what manner he shall understand it, and we have excluded the idea that it is our intention to obliterate or to destroy the journal.

But I shall contend that the word expunge is the appropriate word, and that there is not another in the English language so precisely adapted to convey our meaning. I shall show, from the highest literary and parliamentary authorities, that the word has acquired a signification entirely distinct from that of actual obliteration. Let me proceed immediately to this task. After citing my authorities, I shall proceed with the argument. First, then, for those of a literary character. I read from Crabbe’s Synonymes, page 140; and every Senator will admit that this is a work of established reputation. In speaking of the use of the word expunge, the author says: “When the contents of a book are in part rejected, they are aptly described as being expunged; in this manner the free-thinking sects expunge everything from the Bible which does not suit their purpose, or they expunge from their creed what does not humor their passions.” The idea that an actual obliteration was intended in these cases would be manifestly absurd. In the same page there is a quotation from Mr. Burke to illustrate the meaning of this word. “I believe,” says he, “that any person who was of age to take a part in public concerns forty years ago (if the intermediate space were expunged from his memory), could hardly credit his senses when he should hear that an army of two hundred thousand men was kept up in this island.” I shall now cite Mr. Jefferson as a literary authority. He has often been referred to on this floor as a standard in politics. For this high authority, I am indebted to my friend from Louisiana (Mr. Nicholas). In the original draft of the declaration of independence, he uses the word expunge in the following manner: “Such has been the patient sufferance of these colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to expunge their former systems of government.” Although the word alter was substituted for expunge, I presume upon the ground that this was too strong a term, yet the change does not detract from the literary authority of the precedent.—Jefferson’s Correspondence, &c., 1st volume, page 17.

I presume that I have shown that the word expunge has acquired a distinct metaphorical meaning in our literature, which excludes the idea of actual obliteration. If I should proceed one step further, and prove that in legislative proceedings it has acquired the very same signification, I shall then have fully established my position. For this purpose I cite, first, “the Secret Proceedings and Debates of the Federal Convention.” In page 118, we find the following entries: “On motion to expunge the clause of the qualification as to age, it was carried—ten States against one.” Again: “On the clause respecting the ineligibility to any other office, it was moved that the words ‘by any particular State,’ be expunged—four States for, five against, and two divided.” So page 119: “The last blank was filled up with one year, and carried—eight ayes, two noes, one divided.”

“Mr. Pinckney moved to expunge the clause—agreed to, nem. con.”nem. con.” Again: “Mr. Butler moved to expunge the clause of the stipends—lost, seven against, three for, one divided.” Again, in page 157: “Mr. Pinckney moved that that part of the clause which disqualifies a person from holding an office in the State be expunged, because the first and best characters in a State may thereby be deprived of a seat in the national council.”

“Question put to strike out the words moved for and carried—eight ayes, three noes.”

It will thus be perceived that in the proceedings of the very convention which formed the Constitution under which we are now governed, the word expunge was often used in its figurative sense. It will certainly not be asserted, or even intimated, by any Senator here, that when these motions to expunge prevailed, the words of the original draft of the Constitution were actually obliterated or defaced. The meaning is palpable. These provisions were merely rejected; not actually blotted out.

But I shall now produce a precedent precisely in point. It presents itself in the proceedings of the Senate of Massachusetts, and refers to the famous resolution of that body adopted on the 15th day of June, 1813, in relation to the capture of the British vessel Peacock; denouncing the late war, and declaring that it was not becoming in a moral and religious people, to express any approbation of military or naval exploits which were not immediately connected with the defence of our seacoast. Massachusetts adopted the following resolution:

“Resolved“Resolved That the aforesaid resolve of the fifteenth day of June, A. D. 1813, and the preamble thereof, be, and the same are hereby, expunged from the journals of the Senate.”

It is self-evident that, in this case, not the least intention existed of defacing the old manuscript journal. The word “expunge” was used in its figurative signification, just as it is in the case before us, to express the strongest reprobation of the former proceeding. That proceeding was to be expunged solely by force of the subsequent resolution, and not by any actual obliteration. There never was any actual obliteration of the journal.

Judging, then, from the highest English authorities, from the works of celebrated authors and statesmen, and from the proceedings of legislative bodies, is it not evident that the word expunge has acquired a distinct meaning, altogether inconsistent with any actual obliteration?

All that we have heard about defacing and destroying the journal are mere phantoms, which have been conjured up to terrify the timid. We intend no such thing. We only mean, most strongly, to express our conviction that the condemnatory resolution ought never to have found a place on the journal. If more authorities were wanting, I might refer to the Legislature of Virginia. The present expunging resolution is in exact conformity with their instructions to their Senators. As a matter of taste, I cannot say that I much admire their plan, though I entertain no doubt but that it is perfectly constitutional. That State is highly literary; and I think I have established that their Legislature, when they used the word expunge, without intending thereby to effect an actual obliteration of the journal, justly appreciated the meaning of the language which they employed.

The word expunge is, in my opinion, the only one which we could have used, clearly and forcibly to accomplish our purpose. Even if it had not been sanctioned by practice as a parliamentary word, we ought ourselves to have first established the precedent. It suits the case precisely. If you rescind, reverse, or repeal a resolution; you thereby admit that it once had some constitutional or legal authority. If you declare it to have been null and void from the beginning; this is but the expression of your own opinion that such was the fact. This word expunge acts upon the resolution itself. It at once goes to its origin, and destroys its legal existence as if it had never been. It does not merely kill, but it annihilates.

Parliamentary practice has changed the meaning of several other words from their primitive signification, in a similar manner with that of the word expunge. The original signification of the word rescind is “to cut off.” Usage has made it mean, in reference to a law or resolution, to abrogate or repeal it. We every day hear motions “to strike out.” What is the literal meaning of this expression? The question may be best answered by asking another. If I were to request you to strike out a line from your letter, and you were willing to comply with my request, what would be your conduct? You would run your pen through it immediately. You would literally strike it out. Yet what use do we make of this phrase every day in our legislative proceedings? If I make a motion to strike out a section from a bill and it prevails, the Secretary encloses the printed copy of it in black lines, and makes a note on the margin that it has been stricken out. The original he never touches. Why then should not the word expunge, without obliterating the proceeding to which it is directed, signify to destroy as if it never had existed?

After all that has been said, I think I need scarcely again recur to the Pennsylvania precedent. It is evident from the whole of that proceeding that an actual expunging of the journal was intended, if it had not already been executed. I have no recollection whatever of the circumstances, but I am under a perfect conviction, from the face of the journal, that such was the nature of the case. I should vote now as I did then, after a period of more than twenty years. Both my vote, and the motion which I subsequently made upon that occasion, evidently proceeded upon this principle. The question arose in this manner, as it appears from the journal. On the 10th of February, 1816, “The Speaker informed the House that a constitutional question being involved in a decision by him yesterday, on a motion to expunge certain proceedings from the journal, he was desirous of having the opinion of the House on that decision,” viz: “that a majority can expunge from the journal proceedings in which the yeas and nays have not been called.” Now, as no trace whatever appears upon the journal of the preceding day of the motion to which the Speaker refers, it is highly probable, nay, it is almost certain, that the proceedings had been actually expunged before he asked the advice of the House.

No man feels with more sensibility, the necessity which compels him to perform an unkind act towards his brother Senators than myself; but we have now arrived at that point when imperious duty demands that we should either adopt this expunging resolution or abandon it forever. Already much precious time has been employed in its discussion. The moment has arrived when we must act. Senators in the opposition console themselves with the belief that posterity will do them justice, should it be denied to them by the present generation. They place their own names in the one scale and ours in the other, and flatter themselves with the hope that before that tribunal at least, their weight will preponderate. For my own part, I am willing to abide the issue. I am willing to be judged for the vote which I shall give to-day, not only by the present, but by future generations, should my obscure name ever be mentioned in after times. After the passions and prejudices of the present moment shall have subsided, and the impartial historian shall come to record the proceedings of this day, he will say that the distinguished men who passed the resolution condemning the President were urged on to the act by a desire to occupy the high places in the Government. That an ambition noble in itself, but not wisely regulated, had obscured their judgment, and impelled them to the adoption of a measure unjust, illegal, and unconstitutional. That in order to vindicate both the Constitution and the President, we were justified in passing this expunging resolution, and thus stamping the former proceeding with our strongest disapprobation.

I rejoice in the belief that this promises to be one of the last highly exciting questions of the present day. During the period of General Jackson’s civil administration, what has he not done for the American people? During this period he has had more difficult and dangerous questions to settle, both at home and abroad,—questions which aroused more intensely the passions of men,—than any of his predecessors. They are now all happily ended, except the one which we shall this day bring to a close,

The country now enjoys abundant prosperity at home, whilst it is respected and admired by foreign nations. Although the waves may yet be in some agitation from the effect of the storms through which we have passed, yet I think I can perceive the rainbow of peace extending itself across the firmament of Heaven.

Should the next administration pursue the same course of policy with the present—should it dispense equal justice to all portions and all interests of the Union, without sacrificing any—should it be conducted with prudence and with firmness, and I doubt not but that this will be the case—we shall hereafter enjoy comparative peace and quiet in our day. This will be the precious fruit of the energy, the toils, and the wisdom of the pilot who has conducted us in safety through the storms of his tempestuous administration.

I am now prepared for the question. I shall vote for this resolution; but not cheerfully. I regret the necessity which exists for passing it; but I believe that imperious duty demands its adoption. If I know my own heart, I can truly say that I am not actuated by any desire to obtain a miserable, petty, personal triumph, either for myself, or for the President of the United States, over my associates upon this floor.

I am now ready to record my vote, and thus, in the opprobrious language of Senators in the opposition, to become one of the executioners of the condemnatory resolution.