From our Brooklyn Correspondent.

BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, July 12, 1853.

DEAR DOUGLASS:—A country cousin
laughed most heartily over the fact, that
Ethiop ventured as far from home as Roch
ester; and desires to know what he heard
and saw there.

To gratify this natural inquisitiveness of
a lady, and inform some others of your read
ers, it may not be amiss to say just here
something of what I, Ethiop, did see and
hear in Rochester. I own I had some credit
for fleetness of foot when a boy; yet had
you seen me moving up Broadway just be
fore six A. M., on Tuesday, in quest of a
car, you would have surely doubted my iden
tity. And, now, one foot on the car step,
and a half minute to spare! A few snorts,
and one prolonged and terrible hissing,
and off dashed, at a break-neck rate, the old
iron horse. There was no help for it; I was
on board, and off for Rochester; and adjust
ing myself as well as I could, I resolved to
see the end of it; and so I did.

The idea, however, of having whole bones
by the time we reached Rochester, never
once occupied my thoughts; if I may be
said to have had any thoughts during this
transition. Twelve mortal hours was I
bumped and thumped, and jammed and jar
red, and pitched and tossed, and bruised and
beat. At last our old iron horse, true to his
purpose, gave another terrific neigh, and the
polite conductor announced Rochester.

After all, there was something in this my
first railroad adventure: the fine surround
ing scenery—the way-places—the iron horse
striding "the country like a thing of life"—not stopping aught for hill or dell, nor rivu
let, nor deeper stream;—I say there was
something in all this so truly American, that
I really liked it. Anon, I wished the cars were
impelled yet faster; anon, that I dwelt in
some of the quiet nooks, or on some one of
the many gently sloping hill sides, or by
some one of the many winding streams at
their bases, a silvery glimpse of which I'd
catch as on we swiftly passed. To know
and appreciate Western New York, one must
see it. I would that thousands of our peo
ple, during summer travel, would more and
better acquaint themselves with the country
and the people thereabouts. The effect would
be to settle many of them in those fine, fer
tile and healthy regions, and make thrifty
and wealthy farmers.

But I was in Rochester, my dear M—, and you desire to know something of what
I saw and heard there. It was Wednesday
morning. I rose and made my toilet, (don't
smile;) breakfasted, and leisurely sauntered
down town to the Arcade. This is the
centre of business in Rochester, and through
it we pass to Corinthian Hall, (the finest
in the city,) where the Convention was to
hold its sessions. In the Arcade, and in
front and about the steps of the Hall, groups
of men were talking, though earnestly,
in tones so low as not to be understood by
the passer by. Gravity sat on every counte
nance, and sat becomingly too. They all
seemed like men or purpose, sensible of hav
ing something to do, and determined to do
it. This was about nine o'clock. At a quar
ter before ten o'clock, persons of every class,
color and sex began to pour into the Hall.-
Delegates (with few exceptions) all arrived,
and were in their seats, with watches in
hand. Five minutes more, and some one—I
think the Rev. A. G. Beman, of New Haven,
Conn.—moved that the Rev. Mr. Peek,
of Pa., take the Chair till the Convention
was permanently organized. It was precise
ly ten o'clock. This was a promptitude in
dicative of what was to follow. Mr. Peek, a
fine appearing, middle aged gentleman, of
mild and bland manner, and looking as tho'
accustomed to good living, ascended the plat
form, and commenced the operations of the
morning, with the air of a man of business.
Wm. Whipper, a gentleman of talent, busi
ness, and, I am told, of much wealth, from
the same State, was appointed temporary
Secretary.

Let me say, just here, that I was never
more forcibly struck than with the appear
ance of the entire delegation. A finer look
ing body of men never before sat in one
room at the same time in this country. There
was such freedom from foolish pride, such an
absence of affectation or vanity, yet so good a

deportment, that one's heart swelled with pride
at the sight. If, my dear M—, I may be
allowed to instance one or two cases to the
contrary, it will serve but heighten the pic
ture I have just drawn. I have read some
where of a would-be-American critic, who,
while visiting the Pantheon at Rome, seeing
the grandeur and perfection of Art around
him, which he could neither appreciate nor
understand, threw back his coat, elevated
his head, twirled his agate cane round his
fingers, and with half closed eyes gleaming
out from behind his spectacles, sauntered
amidst the intelligent throng of spectators,
exclaiming aloud, "humbug! humbug!! all
a mere HUMBUG!!!"

Now to the point. Casual mention was
made by some one of the failure to pass one
of the reports, because of one or two of its
features, when a plump and rotund embodi
ment of pomp and disappointment, in the
shape of a duck-legged, full-whiskered, lit
tle man, exclaimed, "fallacy! fallacy!! all
mere fallacy!!! the whole of that report!"
and his little legs, and his little whiskers, and
his little sides all seemed to swell out with
the effort he had made.

Should any one of stuffed-up pomp
and conceit, recognize the portrait, let it
be set down as Head No. 0 of the ——One other young man exhibited his gold and
tinsel before Ethiop's eyes, rather more than
he could have wished; but these are the ex
ceptions, and a friend of mine says they gave
variety to the body. So now, my dear M—, I
drop the curtain, and leave you, and those
who read with you, to conjecture for awhile
what followed. Not so with you, my dear
Douglass; you were behind the curtain, and
know the rest.

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. .