of all their beautiful colours and dreadful desolation. All sailors like to give them as wide a "berth" as possible, and never admire their beauty, but shun them for their treachery. Sometimes their base extends far beyond their perpendicular lines, and many a good ship has struck on the shoal of ice under water, when the Captain thought he was far enough away from it. The largest one I saw was above a hundred feet above the water-line, and as they never exhibit more than one-third of their ponderous mass of frozen particles, there would be over two hundred feet of it below water, probably shoaling far out in all directions. We had a quick run across the Atlantic, and I landed in Liverpool, in the month of November, amid fog, and smoke, and gloom. What a contrast in the light! Here it was all fog and darkness, and photography impossible. There--on the other side of the waters--the light is always abundant both in winter and summer; and it is only during a snow or rain storm that our transatlantic brother photographers are brought to a standstill.--_Photographic News_, 1865. PHOTOGRAPHIC IMPRESSIONS. The Hudson, Developed on the Voyage. "We'll have a trip up the Hudson," said a friend of mine, one of the best operators in New York; "we'll have a trip up the Hudson, and go and spend a few days with the 'old folk' in Vermont, and then you will see us 'Yankees'--our homes and hospitalities--in a somewhat different light from what you see them in this Gotham." So it was arranged, and on the day appointed we walked down Broadway, turned down Courtland Street to the North River, and went on board the splendid river steamer _Isaac Newton_, named, in graceful compliment, after one of England's celebrities. Two dollars (eight and fourpence) each secured us a first-class passage in one of those floating palaces, for a trip of 144 miles up one of the most picturesque rivers in America. Wishing for a thorough change of scene and occupation, and being tired of "posing and arranging lights" and "drawing a focus" on the faces of men, women, and children in a stifling and pent-up city, we left the camera with its "racks and pinions" behind, determined to revel in the beautiful and lovely only of nature, and breathe the fresh and exhilarating air as we steamed up the river, seated at the prow, and fanned by the breeze freshened by the speed of our swift-sailing boat.