Saturday was a day of beautiful weather. The ships were getting farther away from land, and began to steam ahead at the rate of four and five miles an hour. The cable was paid out at a speed a little faster than that of the ship, to allow for any inequalities of surface on the bottom of the sea. While it was thus going overboard, communication was kept up constantly with the land. Every moment the current was passing between ship and shore. The communication was as perfect as between Liverpool and London, or Boston and New York. Not only did the electricians telegraph back to Valentia the progress they were making, but the officers on board sent messages to their friends in America, to go out by the steamers from Liverpool. The heavens seemed to smile on them that day. The coils came up from below the deck without a kink, and unwinding themselves easily, passed over the stern into the sea. Once or twice an alarm was created by the cable being thrown off the wheels. This was owing to the sheaves not being wide enough and deep enough, and being filled with tar, which hardened in the air. This was a great defect of the machinery which was remedied in the later expeditions. Still it worked well, and so long as those terrible brakes kept off their iron gripe, it might work through to the end. All day Sunday the same favoring fortune continued; and when the officers, who could be spared from the deck, met in the cabin, and Captain Hudson read the service, it was with subdued voices and grateful hearts they responded to the prayers to Him who spreadeth out the heavens, and ruleth the raging of the sea. On Monday they were over two hundred miles at sea. They had got far beyond the shallow waters off the coast. They had passed over the submarine mountain which figures on the charts of Dayman and Berryman, and where Mr. Bright's log gives a descent from five hundred and fifty to seventeen hundred and fifty fathoms within eight miles! Then they came to the deeper waters of the Atlantic, where the cable sank to the awful depth of two thousand fathoms. Still the iron cord buried itself in the waves, and every instant the flash of light in the darkened telegraph room told of the passage of the electric current.