Mr. President, before this debate closes, it seems to me I shall be justified in a brief reply to the most extraordinary, almost eccentric, argument by my excellent friend, the Senator from Maine [Mr. Morrill]. He argued against the constitutionality of the pending amendment,—you all remember with how much ingenuity and earnestness. I shall not follow him in the details of that speech. I shall deal with it somewhat in the general, and part of the time I shall allow others to speak for me.

But before I come upon that branch of the case, I feel that in justice to colored fellow-citizens I ought to see that they have a hearing. Senators whom they helped elect show no zeal for their rights. Sir, they have a title to be heard. They are able; they can speak for themselves; but they are not here to speak. Therefore they can be heard only through their communications. Here is one from a member of the Virginia House of Delegates. It came to my hands yesterday, and is dated “Richmond, January 29, 1872.” I wish the Senate would hear what this member of the Virginia House says on the pending amendment.

The letter, as read by Mr. Sumner, concluded as follows:—

“We all, Sir, the whole colored population of Virginia, make this appeal through you to a generous Senate, and pray, for the sake of humanity, justice, and all that is good and great, that equal common rights may be bestowed on a grateful and loyal people before disabilities shall have been stricken from those who struck at the very heart-strings of the Government.”

Can any Senator listen to that appeal and not feel that this Virginian begins to answer the Senator from Maine? He shows an abuse; he testifies to a grievance. Sir, it is the beginning of the argument. My friend seemed almost to ignore it. He did not see the abuse; he did not recognize the grievance.

Mr. Morrill. I certainly did see it, and I certainly recognize it. The only difference between the Senator and myself, so far as the argument is concerned, is one simply of power.

Mr. Sumner. I shall come to that. But first is the point, whether the Senator recognizes the grievance; and here let me tell my excellent friend, that, did he see the grievance as this colored citizen sees it, did he feel it as this colored citizen feels it,—Sir, did he simply see it as I see it,—he would find power enough in the Constitution to apply the remedy. I know the generous heart of the Senator; and I know that he could not hesitate, did he really see this great grievance. He does not see it in its proportions. He does not see how in real character it is such that it can be dealt with only by the National power. I drive that home to the Senator. It is the beginning of the argument in reply to him, that the grievance is such that it can be dealt with adequately only by Congress. Any other mode is inefficient, inadequate, absurd. I begin, therefore, by placing the Senator in that position. Unhappily he does not see the grievance. He has no conception of its vastness, extending everywhere, with ramifications in every State, and requiring one uniform remedy, which, from the nature of the case, can be supplied only by the Nation.

And now I come to the question of power; and here I allow a colored fellow-citizen to be heard in reply to the Senator. I read from a letter of E. A. Fulton, of Arkansas:—

“I have seen and experienced much of the disabilities which rest upon my race and people from the mere accident of color. Grateful to God and the Republicans of this country for our emancipation and the recognition of our citizenship, I am nevertheless deeply impressed with the necessity of further legislation for the perfection of our rights as American citizens.”

This colored citizen is impressed, as the Senator is not, with the necessity of further legislation for the perfection of his rights as an American citizen. He goes on:—