“The time has come when the people of Rhode Island must accept a more comprehensive gospel of human rights than has gotten itself into this Dorr constitution. We have talked to him, and while he agrees in principle he fears to go further.”
John Brown sent the letter on to John Greenleaf Whittier, Secretary of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society. Whittier talked it over with the Reverend Theodore Parker, who was considering making a series of speeches in Rhode Island, denouncing the color bar in what was being called a “People’s Constitution.”
“Why should not Negroes vote with all the other workers?” asked Whittier. “They would limit their gains in throwing out the old charter.”
Theodore Parker sighed wearily.
“It’s the workers who are doing this. Their own struggle has blinded them.”
“Thee are right.” Whittier slipped into the Quaker idiom in moments of great seriousness. “They see the black man only as a threat.”
Then their eyes met, fusing in a single thought. They spoke almost in one breath.
“Frederick Douglass!”
For a moment they smiled together, congratulating themselves. Then a frown came on Whittier’s face. He shook his head.
“But Friend Garrison will not consent. Thee knows his attitude toward any of us taking part in politics.”