world‐wide fame—a thing which may influence the life of whole nations, nay, which may affect the march of civilisation. Following the direction in which the iron rope goes, we now come to the most marvellous sight.... We find ourselves in a little wooden cabin, and look down over a railing at the side into an immense cavern below. This cavern is one of the three ‘tanks’ in which the two‐thousand‐mile cable is finding a temporary home. The passive agent of electricity comes creeping in here in a beautiful silent manner, and is deposited in coils, layer above layer. It is almost dark at the immense depth below, and we can only dimly discern the human figures through whose hands the coil passes to its bed. Suddenly, however, the men begin singing. They intone a low, plaintive song of the sea, something like Kingsley’s “Three fishers went sailing away to the west, Away to the west, as the sun went down,” the sounds of which rise up from the dark deep cavern with startling effect, and produce an indescribable impression. We move on; but the song of the sailors who are taking charge of the Atlantic telegraph cable is haunting us like a dream. In vain that our guide conducts us all over the big ship, through miles of galleries, passages, staircases, and promenades; through gorgeous saloons full of mirrors, marbles, paintings, and upholstery, made ‘regardless of expense’; and through buildings crowded with glittering steam apparatus of gigantic dimensions, where the latent power of coal and water creates the force which propels this monster vessel across the seas. In vain our attention is directed to all these sights; we do not admire them; our imagination is used up. The echo of the sailors’ song in the womb of the _Great Eastern_ will not be banished from our mind. It raises visions of the future of the mystic iron coil under our feet: how it will roll forth again from its narrow berth; how it will sink to the bottom of the Atlantic or hang from mountain to mountain far below the stormy waves; and how two great nations, the offspring of one race and the pioneers of civilisation, will speak through this wonderful coil, annihilating distance and time. Who can help dreaming here on the spot where we stand? For it is truly a marvellous romance of civilisation, this _Great Eastern_ and this Atlantic telegraph cable. Even should our age produce nothing else, it alone would be the triumph of our age.” [Illustration: THE PAYING‐OUT MACHINERY ON BOARD THE “GREAT EASTERN.”]