FROM OUR BROOKLYN CORRESPONDENT.

MY DEAR DOUGLASS:—Behold how great a fire a little spark kindleth. No friend of progress remote from hence can imagine, nor no pen of mine can portray the state of feeling and excitement, produced hereabouts by my article published in your paper under date of Sept 22nd. This feeling, be it known, grew out of two sources. The party of the first part was deeply exercised because of my saying what I did; and the party of the second part for not saying more than I did, of the same sort; and between the two, I verily believe that if at one time poor Ethiop could have been found, not the nose on his face, nor a hair of his unoffending head would have been left. But rather the richest part—I may say the cream of the whole affair—came off last Sunday evening in the Siloam Church, Rev. A. N. Freeman's, Brooklyn.—The good people of this Church, be it known, hold monthly meetings of Prayer for the enslaved—(a most praiseworthy movement)—at which times occasional episodes occur, that are often as marvellous as they seem out of place. The one I am about to speak of was on this wise. After the meeting had gone on in sweet harmony, and a delightful, and solemn impression had settled down on all, and the audience arrived at a point which admonished it to retire—a copy of Frederick Douglass' Paper was introduced; and so much of my article as related to schools was brought forth, and a futile attempt made at dissection by these Doctors in Siloam.—Nearly half an hour was spent, I venture to say, before the audience could well divine hat was really going on; and I doubt if any of them can now tell what the meeting really had to do with much that did take place.—But to proceed: The points made by these Doctors in Siloam were,

1. "That the said article was intended to reflect upon the conduct of some certain person or persons." In answer to this, I would only say, that in all matters about which I find occasion to write, I have but one rule for my guide. (I have often heard the good Shepherd of the flock of Siloam state in substance the same as his rule.) It is this[:] "I am bound to express whatever is truth, and to expose whatever is error in the things I find around me, if in both I can subserve my fellow-men." Now, the point these Doctors in Siloam should have sought was not whether my strictures reflected upon certain person or persons, but whether they were or was not true. Not whether they would fit, or pinch certain persons, but whether said persons ought to so place themselves in the gape of error, that truth may pinch them. The idea that a public exposition of truth should be distorted to private attack, seems to me, to say the least, funny indeed. But if, for example, sinners come personally to inquire of the minister if he meant them every time he proclaimed against popular sins, the minister would rather conclude that there were some prickings of conscience, and his truthful declaration were not void of effect. Our Savior once uttered this emphatic truth to his disciples, "One of you shall betray me;" and they all cried out, Lord, is it I! Lord, is it I! Is it I! My business is to state whatever truths I conceive will subserve the public interest; not to invade the bounds of privacy. But,

2. "These Doctors say that colored persons have an undeniable right to place their children in whatever white schoos they see fit, since to do otherwise would be to abridge their liberty." Now, while I respect the right of private judgment, still I must protest against this. I hold we owe something to community—something to our children—something to posterity, as well as to the gratification of our own personal whims and notions, unless these accord with our best welfare. To do anything that would inflict an injury upon either of these, incurs a liability more than equal to the injury done. To place our children where their minds are depressed, or in the least degree warped, is to inflict a deep wrong upon our community, and entail an indelible injury upon our posterity. "I will drink my glass of grog when I please," says the advocate of dram drinking. I deny his right to do so; or the right of any other man to do aught else which injures his neighbor. Every good man delegates away so much of his rights as with the best well being of his neighbor.

3. But, say these Doctors in Siloam, "no injury is inflicted by placing colored children in prejudicial white schools;" (for only of such have I ever spoken;) and in justification of this assertion, "behold me!" says one of them. A respectable colored man once placed his son in one of these prejudicial white schools, in which, when his education was completed, so great was the infusion of prejudice in the mind of this youth, that he turned his back upon his father, denied the mother that nourished him, and foreswore that people his education should have benefited. How many such, thank you, may be now found, who, if not gone from us, are worse than useless, because of prejudicial feelings, engendered by the teachings of the whites. Indeed, our great difficulty lies just here. Whether in the state of slavery or nominal freedom, we have been taught but to feel as inferior.

4. Again, say these Doctors: "Better association is to be found in white than colored schools." This is saying too much; and the feeling that induces it grows out of what I have just expressed. The idea of our own inferiority carries with it the idea, that to associate with the whites, no matter how low the class, or how unequal the terms, is a privilege.

The terms, be it remembered, in the schools I refer to hereabouts, are unequal. Think of a colored youth every way superior to a white one, place and held as his inferior—Who is he that dare say that such a position is not enough to ruin both the head and the heart of that child—yea shrink up his inmost soul.

But, suppose we take another view of this point—the one held up by these gentlemen —that better associations and more knowledge can be gained in white than colored institutions, what is the clear deduction flowing therefrom? Why, simply this: that our schools, churches, Sabbath schools, and kindred institutions—these cherished institutions which have made us all we this day are—and are now all that we can put our hands upon and call them ours—these only monuments of our people—these, according to the logic of these Doctors, should at once close up their doors, and our pastors should exhort their little flocks forthwith to have their own folds and repair to the white ones, where better associations, and better pasture are to be found. Who among them that

retains a pulpit has ever done this? who believes they ever will do it? who believes they ever ought to do it? Surely, no sane minded person. What would be the result if carried into effect? Who can not foresee? Let me advise these Doctors in Siloam, to beware how they meddle with edged tools, too wieldy for them, lest in their innocent attempts to make a trap to ensnare Ethiop before their congregation; (though it would be a pretty sight;) I say, let them beware, lest they cut their own fingers off

Yours truly,

ETHIOPWilson, William Joseph ("Ethiop")

William Joseph Wilson (1818–?), a free black man from New Jersey, operated a bootmaking shop in New York City as early as the 1830s. In the 1840s he became a secondary school teacher and later a principal of a black school in Brooklyn. He was an activist on behalf of black education, encouraging access and attendance, and even opened his own library. Wilson also campaigned to secure the franchise for New York African Americans. He served as a member of the Committee of Thirteen, organized by New York black leaders to stop enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Act. In the early 1850s Wilson’s letters appeared frequently in Frederick Douglass’ Paper, and Douglass referred to him as the newspaper’s “Brooklyn correspondent.” Wilson’s letters to the newspaper, published under the pseudonym “Ethiop,” were often part of an ongoing debate about the condition of blacks in New York and the United States. Wilson’s most frequent sparring partner in the war of letters was “Communipaw,” actually James McCune Smith, a prominent black physician in New York City. Carleton Mabee, Black Education in New York State: From Colonial to Modern Times (Syracuse, N.Y., 1979), 54, 63-67, 123, 129, 155, 158; Foner and Walker, Black State Conventions, 1:79-88; Quarles, Black Abolitionists, 87, 212, 229; Ripley, Black Abolitionist Papers, 4:144-45n. .

Brooklyn Heights. Sept. 29. '54