Mr. Wilding tells me that he never saw so much snow before.

January 3d, 1854.-- Night before last there was a fall of snow, about three or four inches, and, following it, pretty hard frost.  On the river, the vessels at anchor showed the snow along their yards, and on every ledge where it could lie.  A blue sky and sunshine overhead, and apparently a clear atmosphere close at hand; but in the distance a mistiness became perceptible, obscuring the shores of the river, and making the vessels look dim and uncertain.  The steamers were ploughing along, smoking their pipes through the frosty air.  On the landing stage and in the streets, hard-trodden snow, looking more like my New England Home than anything I have yet seen.  Last night the thermometer fell as low as 13 degrees, nor probably is it above 20 degrees to-day.  No such frost has been known in England these forty years! and Mr. Wilding tells me that he never saw so much snow before.