Mr. Sumner. The Senator stands by that. Very well.
Mr. Carpenter. I glory in it. I glory in all the history of that revolutionary period, our revolutionary fathers, our revolutionary war. It is the Revolution that I make my stand upon.
Mr. Sumner. Then, as the Senator from Vermont [Mr. Edmunds] remarks, the Senator should give some effect to what he glories in. I hope he will not take it all out in glory, but will see that a little of it is transfused into Human Rights.
Mr. Carpenter. All that is consistent with the express provisions of the Constitution.
Mr. Sumner. I shall come to that. The point is, that the Senator treats the Declaration of Independence as no better than the writings of Washington, of Jefferson, of Madison, “The Federalist,” and everything that pertains to that day. It is only part and parcel of contemporary history,—of no special consequence, no binding character, not supreme, but only one of the authorities, or at least one of the witnesses, by which we are to read the Constitution. Sir, is it so regarded by Congress,—or at least is it so regarded by the committee of this body under whose direction is printed what is known familiarly as “The Constitution, Rules, and Manual”? Here is the little volume, to which we daily turn. I find that the first document is the National Declaration, preceding the National Constitution. Sir, it precedes the Constitution in time, as it is more elevated in character. The Constitution is a machine, great, mighty, beneficent. The Declaration supplies the principles giving character and object to the machine. The Constitution is an earthly body, if you please; the Declaration is the soul. The powers under the Constitution are no more than the hand to the body; the Declaration is the very soul itself. But the Senator does not see it so. He sees it as no better than a letter of Jefferson or Madison, or as some other contemporary incident which may help us in finding the meaning of the Constitution. The Senator will not find many ready to place themselves in the isolation he adopts. It was not so regarded by the historian who has described it with more power and brilliancy than any other,—Mr. Bancroft. After setting forth what it contains, he presents it as a new and lofty Bill of Rights:—
“This immortal state-paper, which for its composer was the aurora of enduring fame, was ‘the genuine effusion of the soul of the country at that time,’ the revelation of its mind, when, in its youth, its enthusiasm, its sublime confronting of danger, it rose to the highest creative powers of which man is capable. The bill of rights which it promulgates is of rights that are older than human institutions, and spring from the eternal justice that is anterior to the State.”[240]
The vivid presentment of this state-paper, in its commanding character, like an ordinance for mankind, above all other contemporary things, shows its association with our great national anniversary.
“The nation, when it made the choice of a day for its great anniversary, selected not the day of the resolution of independence, when it closed the past, but that of the declaration of the principles on which it opened its new career.”[241]
Shall I remind you, Sir, of that famous letter by John Adams to his wife, written the day after the Resolution of Independence, and pending the Declaration? Of this epoch he predicts, in words quoted with annual pride, that it “will be the most memorable in the history of America,—celebrated by descending generations as the great anniversary festival,—commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty,—solemnized with pomp and power, with cheers, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forevermore.”[242] And yet this Declaration, annually celebrated, having the first pages of our statute-book, placed in the fore-front of the volume of rules for our guidance in this Chamber, this triumphant Magna Charta, is to be treated as “the generalities of a revolutionary pronunciamento,” or at best as of no more value than the letter of a contemporary statesman. Sir, the Senator misconceives the case; and there, allow me to say, is his error.
Mr. Carpenter. The Senator understood me to say, at least I said, in construing the Constitution you must undoubtedly look to the Declaration of Independence, as you must look to all the contemporary history of that day. Did I say there was no difference in the different documents? Did I say that no more importance was to be attached to the Declaration of Independence than to a letter of Madison or Washington? No, Sir,—I said no such thing.