and the seaward horizon, while to north and south one can scarcely distinguish them from the bold headlands which stretch out into the ocean. Northward, the white sails of from thirty to forty fishing schooners are gleaming white in the sun. Hundreds of these craft pass up the coast from Newfoundland every summer, and the spiritual interests of their crews are faithfully sought at Hopedale. Sometimes the Sunday afternoon English service is attended by more than two hundred such visitors. As we descend the hill and return to the station past the well-kept gardens, we make our first acquaintance with mosquitoes, but they do not trouble us much to-day.

JOYS AND SORROWS—A MARRIAGE AND A FUNERALToC

Each mission-station is a little world in itself; it has its own joys and sorrows, and complete cycle of events in the human lives lived here for a time by the will of God, who has His purposes of love in each and all. I have touched many of these joys and sorrows during my brief stay here.

In the godly family of this Hopedale mission-house, it is a time when the clouds return after the rain. Little Hildegard Kaestner has been lying for some days between life and death, but at last we can rejoice with her parents in a degree of hope. The child has even shown a faint interest in her toys. (I am grieved to hear on my return that the little one passed away while her father was absent with me on duty.) Our English missionary sister has also been passing through woman's time of trial and honour, and we are now able to rejoice with her and her husband in the gift of a little girl, their firstborn. God bless and keep mother and child!

My visits with Mr. Dam, the pastor, and his wife, to some of the Eskimoes' houses have been singularly sad. Titus' wife, Katharina, formerly a good and able woman, has fallen into a pitiable state of insanity, which is not only a sore sorrow to the good man, but also a great hindrance to his earning a livelihood. Then we were suddenly summoned to the next house, where we found Hermine dying. In the morning she went out fishing with her husband, Wilhadus. Both were taken very ill with one of those colds which are so fatal to the Eskimoes, and he feared he should not be able to bring her home alive. She was nearly gone, and he very ill, when they did arrive. We found her on the floor, surrounded by sympathizing and helpful neighbours. But there was little to be done; life was fast ebbing. Mr. Dam knelt and prayed beside her, then blessed her, and she feebly responded to his words. The women laid her down comfortably, and as they sang hymns, amid tears and sobs, she passed away to be with the Lord, on whom she believed. God be praised that there is such hope and comfort in this event.

Hermine died on Thursday, and the funeral was on Saturday afternoon, when a little child was also buried. The first part of the service was in the church. Then the congregation reassembled just outside, the men by themselves and the women apart. The larger coffin was borne on the shoulders of six men, the little one was carried by two. The whole congregation appeared to be the mourners, nor was poor Wilhadus well enough to follow his wife's remains to their last resting-place. After singing a verse in front of the church, the procession moved slowly onward to the burial ground, where Mr. Kaestner read the litany, and the responses and singing were beautifully reverent. At his signal the coffins were lowered into the graves, and he spoke the concluding blessing at each.

I was present at a marriage service last Sunday. The young bridegroom and bride sat together on two stools in the middle of the church. They were simply and plainly dressed in clean white "sillapaks," i.e., light calico tunics edged with broad braid, mostly red. The woman's was rather more ornamental than the man's, and had a longer tail hanging over her skirts. She had a ring on one finger, but that played no part in the ceremony. In his opening address the minister named the pair. William Tuktusna comes from the South, and possesses both Christian name and surname, which is unusual for an Eskimo. The woman is called Amalie. Both replied with a clear "Ahaila" (yes) to the usual questions of the marriage service. They then gave the hand to one another, and, kneeling down, a prayer and the Old Testament blessing confirmed the solemn contract, into which they had entered before God. As usual the congregation sang the response, "Jêsum akkâne, Amen." (In the name of Jesus, Amen).

Amalie cried a little during the ceremony, and more as she followed her husband out of the church, but the heathen custom of feigning sorrow on such an occasion is dying out. At first she refused William's offer, made through their missionary, but afterwards she thought better of it. May the Lord give them a happy and holy union of heart and life!

THREE NATIVE HELPERS.ToC

I had a visit this afternoon from the three "native-helpers" here at Hopedale. They came to interview the angajokak from London (anga-yo-kâk = chief or elder) and their pastor kindly interpreted. I am pleased to know these worthy men. They are true Eskimoes in modes of thought and expression, and they are true servants of God, faithfully serving this congregation of their countrymen in many ways. Among the duties of their office are, visiting the sick, admonishing the negligent, settling disputes, and affectionately exhorting those who are under Church discipline. They are also chapel-servants, and evidently glad to be door-keepers in the house of their God. At the fishing or hunting places they often hold services, and sometimes they preside at the meetings at Hopedale. At the celebration of the recent centenary each of the three delivered a powerful address.

Let me introduce them to my readers.

The first and oldest is Joshua, a decided Christian of many years' standing. His wife Bertha is also a chapel-servant, a real mother in the congregation, and a true helpmeet to her husband. They are a thrifty, diligent, much respected couple, whose influence and example is blessed to those around them. Next February 4th they will, D.V., celebrate their golden wedding, an event unknown as yet in Labrador. Though Joshua cannot read, he frequently addresses the congregation with power, suitability, spirituality, and some originality. In his public prayers he almost invariably adds a petition "for our Queen Victoria; because she is only a woman." On one occasion he said to his countrymen: "Those of you who can read know that it says, they shall come from the East and the West, and the North and the South, and shall sit down in the kingdom, but the children of the kingdom shall be cast out. Our fathers were heathen, but we are children of the kingdom. If we fail of the grace of God, we shall not only be cast into hell, but into outer, outer, OUTER darkness." It made a great impression on them. At another time he drew a comparison between the Israelites, who entered Canaan with Joshua, and the spiritual Israelites, who with Jesus shall enter on the millennium.

The second is Daniel, a gifted man with a humble spirit and considerable missionary zeal. Year by year, as Epiphany, "the Heathen Festival," comes round, he has sleepless nights of deep sorrow in his heart for those who know not Jesus, the Salvation of God. Twenty years ago, stirred by the example of John King, the bush-negro evangelist in Surinam, Daniel went in his own boat to