Arriving at New Orleans a stranger, and knowing no Saints if there were any in that city, I secured lodgings and board at $1.00 per day. It now became a new and peculiar duty and strain on my faith and pocket to seek a passage in some sailing vessel, bound for Liverpool. I had some $45.00 in my pocket, the gifts of dear friends in St. Louis, on board the steamer _Brunswick_, and from one person particularly in answer to a masonic shake of the hand, unintentionally given. I endeavored to find passage on the no purse or scrip principle, and was in every instance unsuccessful. I attributed these repulses to meanness or the non-appreciation of the character of a missionary, such as I proclaimed myself, and to the national character of the captains of the several vessels to whom I applied, for, being English myself, to this class I had purposely made my applications. Meeting with several rebuffs, I was fast drifting on the road to discouragement. On the Thursday succeeding my arrival I stood on the levee, and in fervent prayer I asked God to open the way for me to fill this mission--to soften the heart of the next captain I applied to, so that he might take me to Liverpool, free. I requested this as an evidence to me of God's favor; and if refused, I would take it as an evidence that I should return, overtake the Saints going west, and, with my family, find a new home. While thus meditating and praying, it seemed as if some one came up to me and asked me how much money I had. I instinctively replied, "About $40.00." Then came the query: What did I want with that but to pay my way? Why ask for a Divine interposition on the heart or purse of any one while I had money in my pocket? I felt the rebuke, yet I thought of my shabby clothes, my going home to see a proud-feeling mother, my desire by my personal appearance to cast no discredit on the cause I had espoused. These and many similar reflections passed hurriedly through my mind. My invisible monitor did not leave me, but, waking me from the reverie, he again plied me with similar interrogations and rebukes, and told me to apply to the ship then in direct sight. I looked up and saw the words: "For Liverpool." I walked down to the pile of cotton from which the mate and some stevedores were loading the good ship _Berlin_. I asked the mate what was the chance to obtain passage on board his ship for Liverpool. In the most cherry voice he replied: "First rate! But here comes Captain Baker; talk with him." I approached him. He offered his hand. I told him my business, my wishes and aims. He invited me on board, and, it being noon, to dinner. After dinner he remarked: "Now to business! You say you are a 'Mormon' missionary. You wish to go to England! And how do you wish to go?" I replied that I had but little money, and would be obliged to content myself with a steerage passage. To this he strenuously objected, remarking that I knew not the life of a steerage passenger.