About ten o'clock the shoal water of 250 fathoms was reached. The only remaining anxiety now was the changing from the lower main coil to that upon the upper deck; and this most dangerous operation was successfully performed between three and four o'clock on Wednesday morning. Wednesday was a beautiful, calm day; indeed, it was the first on which any one would have thought of making a splice since the day we started from the rendezvous. We therefore congratulated ourselves on having saved a week by commencing operations on the Thursday previous. At noon we were in lat. 52° 11´; long. 12° 40´ 2´´ W., eighty-nine miles distant from the telegraph station at Valentia. The water was shallow, so that there was no difficulty in paying out the wire almost without any loss by slack; and all looked upon the undertaking as virtually accomplished. At about one o'clock in the evening the second change from the upper-deck coil to that upon the orlop-deck was safely effected; and shortly after the vessels exchanged signals that they were in 200 fathoms water. As night advanced the speed of the ship was reduced, as it was known that we were only a short distance from the land, and there would be no advantage in making it before daylight in the morning. At about twelve o'clock, however, the Skelligs Light was seen in the distance, and the Valorous steamed on ahead to lead us in to the coast, firing rockets at intervals to direct us, which were answered by us from the Agamemnon, though--according to Mr. Moriarty, the master's, wish--the ship, disregarding the Valorous, kept her own course, which proved to be the right one in the end. By daylight on the morning of Thursday, the 5th, the bold rocky mountains which entirely surround the wild and picturesque neighborhood of Valentia rose right before us at a few miles distance. Never, probably, was the sight of land more welcome, as it brought to a successful termination one of the greatest, but at the same time most difficult, schemes which was ever undertaken. Had it been the dullest and most melancholy swamp on the face of the earth that lay before us, we should have found it a pleasant prospect; but as the sun rose behind the estuary of Dingle Bay, tingeing with a deep, soft purple the lofty summits of the steep mountains which surround its shores, illuminating the masses of morning vapor which hung upon them, it was a scene which might vie in beauty with anything that could be produced by the most florid imagination of an artist.