Editorial Correspondence.

SPRINGVILLE, March 3, 1855.

FREDERICK DOUGLASS, ESQ: DEAR SIR:—

Tho' laboring under much physical debility, induced by incessant travel up hill and down hill, through foreboding looking snow banks, I will venture a line or two for the paper. If you call to mind a reminiscence or two of your own adventures through snow and rain, wind and hail, you will know how to sympathize with me. I have managed to attend several meetings, and several I have not been able to reach. I had a most excellent meeting in Millbury, last Sabbath afternoon, or rather evening. Jehiel Smith, of Wyoming, one of our best subscribers, (no reflection upon the rest,) conveyed me in his cutter half way to the place of meeting. I never experienced such weather as last Sunday. In going to Millbury, I tumbled into snow drifts, and froze my face, despite the protection afforded by a tolerably decent pair of whiskers. Monday morning, I rode with Elder Madden to Linden, on my way to Buffalo. But, unfortunately, before arriving at Linden, the cutter upset—horse, driver, and drivee tumbled into another snow drift. Arrived at Linden in time to take the cars; but owing to the immense snow drifts, there were no cars to take me, and had to wait twenty six hours—but all in vain. I did not arrive in Buffalo until Wednesday at noon, and, of course, could not fulfil my appointments at Buffalo, or Evan's Centre. Stopped at Buffalo a couple of hours, then took the stage for Eden, and had a time of it in reaching it.

The stage was crowded with some twenty persons, young and old, Irish, Dutch, American, Af—no, (what am I thinking about?) —and aliened American, (not the "dear Aliened.") Well, we all rode on, having a jolly time of it, discoursing on the probability of more snow, when into at least six feet of it we tumbled. The stage keeled over, and the passengers also. Such confusion for a moment I never witnessed. "Get off my back," cried one. "Confound the driver," yelled another. "You've mashed my bonnet," screamed a portly dame. "You've broke my pipe," moaned an Irishman.—"Somebody most proke mine head mit his heavy poots," cried the Dutchman, good-

naturedly. I joined the chorus by politely requesting some one "to take his leg off from my breast for a moment." It was a laughable scene after all.

Snow to the right of us,
Snow to the left of us,
Snow on the top of us,
Snow underneath us,
We tumbled and grumbled.

We picked ourselves out of the snow, and "every body bear a hand here," cried the driver, and most every body did so; pretty soon we arrived at our destination. Arrived just in time for the lecture; went immediately to the Baptist Church, which was crowded with a most attentive audience, to whom we talked two hours and a quarter. A protracted meeting was being held here, and some were of the opinion that an Anti-Slavery meeting might impede the good work in progress, if not wholly drive away the spirit, and place the people in the position of Ephraim of old. Others were equally tenacious in their opinion, that if the advocacy of the cause of Humanity would freeze the devotional feelings of the elect, and cause the sheep to wander from the fold, young lambs and all, the time had come to examine into the genuineness of a work, in such imminent danger of being overthrown. Our lecture was listened to with the utmost attention, and we think a favorable impression was made. I shall refer to this meeting and others, at length, in my Notes by they Way.

Last evening I lectured in the Methodist Church, Collins Centre, to a large audience, called together by a notice which had been given only about three hours before the meeting. Mr. Richmond has manifested considerable interest in getting the people out to hear the truth. He is a practical worker in the anti-slavery ranks, and is worth a thousand theorizers. To-night, I speak in this place. To-morrow, I go to Boston Corners, thence to Potter's, &c. It has commenced snowing again. We may get a litter of snow this winter after all. I shall be home in time to hear your lecture on the "Genius and History of the Abolition Movement," which has created such a ruction down east among the would be italics of the age we live in.

Yours, in truth,

WM. J. WATKINS.