Publication: FREDERICK DOUGLASS' PAPER
Date: November 12, 1852
F. DouglassTitle: LETTER FROM WM. G. ALLEN
Location: Rochester, New York
For Frederick Douglass' Paper.
LETTER FROM WM. G. ALLEN.
FREDERICK DOUGLASS, ESQ: DEAR SIR: - The following sketch of Beriah Green was written by a young lady, student of N.Y. Central
College. I have ventured to send it to you, believing you will take pleasure in publishing it as a just and beautiful tribute
to one of the great-hearted men of earth - Who has not heard of Beriah Green? For fifteen years he presided over Oneida Institute,
teaching by precept and daily example the doctrine of the equality and brotherhood of our race. Among the earliest of anti-slavery
reformers, no one has labored more assiduously than he to bring about the time when
"Worth, not birth, shall note mankind,
And be acknowledged stronger."
Nor has any one, at any time, brought to the cause of humanity an intellect of greater vigor, a more comprehensive philosophy,
or a heart more thoroughly imbued with just and generous sympathies. He is a devoted Christian - a more powerful preacher;
and though in comparative retirement, he is doubtless working out some great thought for the good of the cause to which he
has given his heart, his intellect, his reputation, his all. He was my teacher - I know him to love him; for he was more than
my teacher - he was my friend and benefactor.
"A month since I listened for the first time to Beriah Green. And such a speech! I shall never forget it. He is an older
man than I supposed him to be, with hair which I should say had been fair when he was young, and rendered still lighter, though
not silvery, by age. Eyes of soft, benevolent blue beam beneath a large, but not massive brow. A flush kindled on his cheeks
as he proceeded, and an expression which I can only term beautiful, though I fear it may seem misapplied, lit up a glow over
his countenance, which told of the great, but gentle heart which throbbed beneath those simple garments. The sweet expression
about the lips, the gentle mildness of the blue eye, and the pale hair falling over the high forehead, suggested to my mind
thoughts of the old Northern poets.
I do not remember whether he made use of any gestures; indeed, I hardly think I knew at the time, for one scarcely seemed
to see the speaker. His voice was not loud, it was rather low than otherwise; yet I am sure I heard every word distinctly.
And there stood that old man, speaking in his low, calm tones, and built up the pyramid of his argument. Indeed it seemed
to me like the temple of Solomon - a pile reared without the noise of saw or hammer, but growing gradually, silently up to
heaven. - It was as if one were alone in the universe with that single fabric before him, its firm foundations resting upon
the earth, but its spires lost amid the clouds. Every thought seemed as a precious, highly polished stone, standing in its
own place, beautiful in itself and tending to the strength and symmetry of a matchless whole.
Sometimes, as you listened, your soul seemed to burn; a hot, oppressive feeling flushed your cheek and brow, and your breath
came hurriedly and painfully. Again, ere you knew it, the warm tears were upon your cheeks, and a feeling of unalterable,
weary sorrowed heaved your heart. Then, at times, you saw nothing; the small church, with its simple seats and crowd of people,
disappeared, and you heard a voice, not as "the voice of many waters," but the calm, low, earnest voice of the speaker.
But his closing words! O, that you could have heard them! He threw aside the paper, and raised his voice a little, his soul
seemed to manifest itself
Before closing, allow me to say that the present term of New York Central College has been a grand one in the means of moral
and intellectual improvement which our friends from afar have afforded us. We have had here this term Frederick Douglass,
Rev. Mr. Fox, Gerrit Smith, Lucy Stone, Antoinette L. Brown, and Rev. Dr. Kay, missionary from Africa. All these have talked
to us out of the abundance of their hearts. The feast throughout has not only been high and brilliant, but invigorating we
trust to the heart and the conscience. We hold these friends in the most greatful remembrance, and ask that heaven's richest
blessings may attend them.
Since writing the above, we have received intelligence of the election of Gerrit Smith. "The Lord reigneth. Let the earth
rejoice, and the multitude of isles be glad thereof." Now may we say, in the language of the eloquent Garnet, altering the
figure a little - "The star of our hope has risen above the horizon."
Scott, too, is defeated, and the Whig party destroyed - evincing further the justice of God, and that "His justice will not
sleep forever." The clouds are breaking away.
A friend at my side has just whispered to me that I had better tell you that I voted on election day - of course for freedom
- and voted too in spirit of the law which makes a man's right to vote to depend upon his donkey, or upon the fact that his
mother was born in Guinea or in the moon. I need not describe in detail the argument which I employed on the occasion. It
was based upon the peculiar rendering which I gave to the phrase, "man of color," as found in the constitution. It was effective.
The polls were thronged, and the scene throughout, especially the maneuvering of the bystanders to get a good sight of the
conflict, would not have been unworthy of a painter. It was a victory on my part, and such a one as makes me feel that were
the colored people of this country more spirited and determined, more bold in the assertion of their rights, and less inclined
to yield to the dictum of their oppressors, they would accomplish more for themselves, and for the cause of our common humanity.
I feel an enviable degree of self-respect in view of the transaction. The board of inspectors, I am happy to say, treated
me with marked respect; and though there were some bitterly-prejudiced once at the polls, I did not even encounter a challenge
of my vote.
Faithfully yours,
WM. G. ALLEN.