Winter has been for many years a heavy season with me. Long nights of watchfulness, and sad musing, impede the progress of our daily task; and the summer has been my comforter--its warm sunshine tempts abroad; its bowery shades invite to rest; its long days furnish occupation, and its short nights are often sweetly passed in gazing on the starry host, and pondering on those mansions of eternal blessedness that lie beyond the firmament. But this is mere indulgence, selfish indulgence, and my present cares have taught me a lesson, which I ought to have learned before. Engaged now from morning till night in trying to assuage the sufferings of another, I have not time to dwell on sorrow of my own; and winter glides away unperceived, except by the rapidity of its flight. It will rejoice you to learn that our _great_ concern prospers; and the earnest desire to infuse “that peace which passeth all understanding” into the sinking spirit, has been blessed with success beyond our hopes. No formal siege, no angry attack, no querulous disputation has been opened here upon error and scepticism. We read, we converse, but we patiently wait for the troubling of the waters ere assistance is offered. The _forcing_ system surely deters many from entering the lists of proselytism from the evil of their ways. You have often heard me say that there is nothing like Butler’s Analogy for minds of a certain calibre, which must have strong food. _Here_ is a new instance in proof of its excellence. Our invalid is charmed with this masterly work, and pores over it incessantly. We have got Tremaine too, of which so many various opinions are in circulation: but as we have not yet finished it, I do not say more at present. Adieu, dearest friend, All, to all, with true affection, ever yours is C. DOUGLAS. LETTER XXX. FREDERICK DOUGLAS TO ARTHUR HOWARD. _Glenalta._ Dearest Arthur, Our letters to and fro, seem all to have reached their several destinations in safety, and yours have truly been a rich resource this winter in our retirement. Little did I imagine when we parted, that you and I were likely to meet in a foreign territory before we shook hands once more at Glenalta; but this letter is actually to be your manifesto of full power to treat in my uncle’s name for all such accommodations as may suit his circumstances and the number of our party at Turin, whither you are directing your steps, you say, and where you may expect to see us all, Mr. Oliphant excepted, in two months, should no unforeseen interventions mar the present plan of proceeding. How extraordinarily the most unlooked for events come round, and sometimes turn up the very thing that we most desire, and which seemed the least within our own power to accomplish!