_Aug. 6th, Sunday._--It was very thick all through the night--fog, rain, drizzle alternately, and all together. When morning broke, the Terrible was visible for a moment in a lift of the veil of grey vapour which hung down from the sky on the face of the waters. The buoy was of course quite lost to view, nor did we see it all day. At 10·45 a.m. Captain Anderson read prayers in the saloon. At noon it was quite hopeless to form a conjecture respecting the position of the sun or of the horizon, but Captain Moriarty and Captain Anderson were ready to pounce upon either, and as the least gleam of light came forth, sextants in hand, like the figures which indicate fine weather in the German hygrometers. The sea was calm, rolling in lazy folds under the ship, which scarcely condescended to notice them. She is a wonder! In default of anything else, it was something to lie on a sofa in the ladies’ saloon, and try to think you really were on the bosom of the Atlantic,--not a bulkhead creaking, not a lamp moving, not a glass jingling. Under the influence of an unknown current, the Great Eastern was drifting steadily against the wind. When the circumstance was noticed, it could only be referred to the “Gulf Stream,” which is held answerable for a good many things all over the world. At 4 p.m. the buoy was supposed to be 15 miles N.W. ½ N. of us, the wind being E.S.E., but it was only out of many calculations Captain Moriarty and Captain Anderson created a hypothetical position. There had been no good observation for three days, and until we could determine the ship’s position exactly, and get a good wind to drift down on the Cable, it would be quite useless to put down the grapnel.