At the Spring conference, in 1853, I was called on a mission to Europe, with a number of others. While crossing the ocean, when about two hundred miles from Liverpool, we encountered, what the captain said, was the severest storm he had experienced during thirty years of sea-faring life. There were seven Elders on board the English sail ship, _Ashburton_. When the storm became the most severe only four could be got together. We had taken second cabin passage, and, of course, had a room with bunks in which to sleep. To this room Elders Charles R. Dana. Israel Barlow and myself repaired, leaving Brother Thomas Colburn outside to watch and tend the door while we prayed and rebuked the raging wind and boisterous sea. We had but just commenced to pray when the door of the ventilator of our room flew open and let a large stream of water upon us. Brother Barlow sprang upon one of the upper bunks and closed the door and held it to its place while Brother Dana and myself continued the prayer. By this time the ship had come so near capsizing that a bottle of ink being open and standing over one door-post, which was about six feet high, emptied its contents upon the opposite post about one and a half feet from the door sill, making an angle, by actual measurement, of over fifty degrees, which was just about as far as she could go without capsizing. Just at this juncture the wind was rebuked by the servants of the Lord, and so sudden was the reaction that the ship creaked from stem to stern and we did not know but what she might fall to pieces. But the main damage done was to lose her sails and cause the yard-arm to fall and break the ship-carpenter's leg. The cargo was shiped to one side so that she could not run level during the remainder of the voyage. We had on board, among other passengers, a Presbyterian temperance lecturer, with whom we had had many arguments on the use of the spiritual gifts, he taking the view that they were done away because no longer needed. His berth was on the opposite side of the ship. Before the prayer was closed and the door opened, he stood trembling with excitement outside No sooner was the door opened than he exclaimed hastily and in an excited manner, "Havn't you been praying? havn't you been praying?" On Elder Dana inquiring why he asked that question, he nervously answered, "I thought you had; the wind stopped blowing so suddenly." During the remainder of the journey, whenever there was more than a gentle breeze of wind, this man and his friends were sure to find their way to our cabin, as though they thought, if all the balance of the ship sank, our side would float all right.