ngress, and likewise a federal judiciary, with powers less extensive
than those contemplated by the Virginia plan. It gave to Congress the
power to regulate foreign and domestic commerce, to levy duties on
imports, and even to raise internal revenue by means of a Stamp Act. But
with all this apparent liberality on the surface, the New Jersey plan
was vicious at bottom. It did not really give Congress the power to act
immediately upon individuals. The federal legislature which it proposed
was to represent states, and not individuals, and the states were to
vote equally, without regard to wealth or population. If things were to
be left in this shape, there was no security that the powers granted to
Congress could ever be really exercised. Nay, it was almost certain that
they could not be put into operation. It was easy enough on paper to
give Congress the permission to levy duties and regulate commerce, but
such a permission would amount to nothing unless Congress were armed
with the power of enforcing its decrees upon individuals. And it could
in no wise acquire such power unless as the creature of the people, and
not of the states. The New Jersey plan, therefore, furnished no real
remedy for the evils which afflicted the country. It was vigorously
opposed by Hamilton, Madison, Wilson, and King. Hamilton, indeed, took
this occasion to offer a plan of his own, which, in addition to
Madison's scheme of a purely national legislature, contained the
features of a tenure for life or good behaviour, for the executive and
the members of the upper house. But to most of the delegates this scheme
seemed too little removed from a monarchy, and Hamilton's brilliant
speech in its favour, while applauded by many, was supported by none.
The weighty arguments of Wilson, King, and Madison prevailed, and the
New Jersey plan lost its original shape when it was decided that
Congress should consist of two houses. The principle of equal state
representation, however, remained as a stumbling-block. Paterson,
supported by his able colleague Brearley, as well as by Martin and the
two irreconcilables from New York, stoutly maintained that to depart
from this principle would be to exceed the powers of the convention,
which assuredly was not intended to remodel the government from
beginning to end. But Randolph answered, "When the salvation of the
republic is at stake, it would be treason to our trust not to propose
what we find necessary;" and Hamilt