Editorial Correspondence

ELLICOTVILLE, Jan. 3rd, 1855.

FREDERICK DOUGLASS, ESQ.: DEAR SIR:—
Upon the eve of fulfilling my next appointment, I hasten to drop you a line, informing you of my whereabouts, and the success which has, thus far, attended my labors. I have lectured every night, save one, since I left Rochester, and twice on the Sabbath.— In most places, I have had crowded audiences, some receiving the truth in the love, and others in the hate of it. I have come in contact with all sorts of people in general, and Know-Nothing men in particular. Anti-Slavery men have as much as they can conveniently attend to, in watching this last miserable humbug, and dragging it from its hiding place. The engineers of this native American juggernaut watch, with unslumbering jealousy, every ray of light that
penetrates the darkness of its kingdom.—They feel safe, provided the sunlight does not fall upon them. Truth affects the stability of its throne. They may baptize their converts in the clouds of artificial night but these clouds must soon be scattered.—We live in the nineteenth century. Clouds may arise, but it is the province of the sun to dissipate them. Those who love to keep company with owls, and wait for the shadows of evening, when darkness "hath in her sober livery all things clad" must soon, very soon, find their appropriate level. It will not be denied, that an intense desire to investigate everything within the broad range of human comprehension, is a prominent characteristic of the present age. All systems and creeds, and opinions, must now pass through the fiery ordeal of the most scathing scrutiny, or they cannot receive the approving smile of the people's conscience —they cannot find a permanent lodgement in the people's heart. And if these systems, and creeds, and opinions, assume the form and habiliments of a demon who obstinately refuses, in compliance with the people's mandate, to come out from its hiding place, disrobe itself of its midnight covering, and stand up where the sunlight can flash upon its every feature, they will, most assuredly, be swept into the abyss of ruin, as though a whirlwind had breathed upon it. Know-Nothingism is just such a system. It is arrayed against the sun, and moon, and stars. It burrows amid the murky shadows of the grossest ignorance, and feeds upon the
unnutritious husks of sectarian hate. Its days are numbered. Its funeral requiem will soon be sung.

And now a word more about my present tour. It has, upon the whole, proved highly satisfactory to me, and, I hope, beneficial to the cause of freedom. If we can, through any instrumentality, succeed in preventing new issues from diverting the public mind, our cause must triumph. This should be the grand object in view. Our lecturers should hold up before the people the one great issue, SHALL LIBERTY OR SLAVERY BE CRUSHED IN THIS REPUBLIC? For it is as certain as the laws which control the universe, that one or the other must triumph. I find a majority of the people throughout this region, resolutely determined that slavery shall die, that it shall soon cease to be a blot upon the nation. May their resolutions be strengthened! May their hopes be encouraged, despite the subtle sophistry, the cold neglect, and the shameless diabolism of an anti Christian priesthood, acting in loving fellowship with the political vultures who disgrace the country, and the world.

In the meantime, let our oppressed brethren take courage. Let us act wisely. The eye of God, and the eye of the world, are upon us. We should always remember that we have a work to perform. We are not to occupy the unmanly position of mere automata, in the Anti-Slavery movement.— If we have not already done so, let us demonstrate to the world that there is sufficient power in our own right arm, nerved by the power of God, to break the rod of the oppressor. Let us, then,

"On to the conflict, for Freedom and Truth; Come, matron, come, maiden, come, manhood and youth; Come gather, come gather, come one, and come all, And the altars of Slavery shall speedily fall."

Yours, in hope,

WM. J. WATKINS.