Shall I ever forget that communion at seven?  I felt it a great privilege to partake of the Lord’s Supper with my brethren and sisters in Labrador.  How much He has done for these dear missionaries, simple earnest Christians, experienced in the things of God, men and women of mighty faith, who do “move mountains.”  How much hath God wrought for these dear Eskimo Christians, who sit down at His table with beautiful reverence and real appreciation of this act of faith.

The benches not needed for the communicant congregation had been removed from the centre of the church.  On the men’s side two empty benches stood together, on the women’s three or four.  After the trombonists had played a solemn chorale outside, the first chapel servant Joshua and his wife Bertha opened their respective doors, and about twenty men and more than thirty women entered from right and left and took their seats.  Both men and women were all attired in their light braided sillapaks, and they are very particular to have clean ones for this service.  The women who are communicants have a lock of their hair plaited in front of each ear.  The vessels used on this occasion were presented to this congregation by two American ladies, who recently visited Hopedale.  They were present on a similar occasion and were much struck by the solemnity and reality of the service.  In grateful remembrance of the kindness of our missionaries they have sent this valuable and beautiful gift of communion plate.

Though unacquainted with the language, I was able to follow the simple, familiar communion service.  The words of institution sounded solemn, as pronounced in Eskimo, and truly when one knelt with the congregation, and partook of the bread and wine, one could discern the Lord’s body, and feel that, though these dear people have their temptations and their failings, yet there are many souls here who feed on the Bread of Life and live by Him.  When He cometh it will be manifest, and even now He is glorified here in them that believe.

After the communion we went down to the boat to embark.  The rock that stretches out into the harbour was crowded with Eskimoes, who had hurried to bid their departing missionaries a loving farewell.

A PLEASANT SAIL FROM HOPEDALE TO ZOAR.

Tuesday, August 14th.—­We are nearing the second station.  Leaving Hopedale about dawn yesterday we made good progress northward, sailing quietly between innumerable islets, all bleak, bare, uninhabited rocks.  We saw many small icebergs.  In the evening one singularly shapely and beautiful berg floated past us, tipped with violet, which contrasted with the curious yellow tint of one side, the pure white of the mass and the living green of the waves rippling at its base.  The sunset and the northern lights were very fine.