"The story of this great undertaking" has been told, and as far as possible in his own words, in these chapters; but there are two or three further extracts from his speech that it seems expedient to give, for they explain the pages just read; they refer to the voyage, grappling, and manner of working the cable. "Yet this was not a 'lucky hit'--a fine run across the ocean in calm weather. It was the worst weather I ever knew at that season of the year. In the despatch which appeared in the New York papers you may have read, 'The weather has been most pleasant.' I wrote it 'unpleasant.' We had fogs and storms almost the whole way. Our success was the result of the highest science combined with practical experience. Everything was perfectly organized to the minutest detail. We had on board an admirable staff of officers, such men as Halpin and Beckwith; and engineers long used to this business, such as Canning and Clifford and Temple, the first of whom has been knighted for his part in this great achievement; and electricians, such as Professor Thomson, of Glasgow, and Willoughby Smith, and Laws; while Mr. C. F. Varley, our companion of the year before, who stands among the first in knowledge and practical skill, remained with Sir Richard Glass at Valentia, to keep watch at that end of the line, and Mr. Latimer Clark, who was to test the cable when done. We had four ships, and on board of them some of the best seamen in England, men who knew the ocean as a hunter knows every trail in the forest. Captain Moriarty had, with Captain Anderson, taken most exact observations at the spot where the cable broke in 1865, and they were so exact that they could go right to the spot. After finding it they marked the line of the cable by a row of buoys, for fogs would come down and shut out sun and stars, so that no man could take an observation. These buoys were anchored a few miles apart. They were numbered, and each had a flag-staff on it, so that it could be seen by day, and a lantern by night. Thus having taken our bearings, we stood off three or four miles, so as to come broadside on, and then casting over the grapnel, drifted slowly down upon it, dragging the bottom of the ocean as we went. At first it was a little awkward to fish in such deep water, but our men got used to it, and soon could cast a grapnel almost as straight as an old whaler throws a harpoon. Our fishing-line was of formidable size. It was made of rope, twisted with wires of steel, so as to bear a strain of thirty tons. It took about two hours for the grapnel to reach bottom, but we could tell when it struck. I often went to the bow and sat on the rope, and could feel by the quiver that the grapnel was dragging on the bottom two miles under us. But it was a very slow business.