Breakfast is enlivened with
cheerful, godly converse, and shortly after we join the Eskimo
congregation in the first service of the day. I like this church as
well as any in the land. It is proportionate, simple, neat and light.
Mr. Wirth takes his place behind the table, and, what with residents
and visitors, there is a goodly row of missionary brethren and sisters
to right and left of him, facing the Eskimo congregation. Among the
latter the white faces of a settler family, the Metcalfs from Napartok
Bay, are conspicuous. Though the language be strange, I have already
grown familiar with the liturgic forms of worship and can follow
either the "Church Litany," familiar to one in English and German, or
the admirable responsive compilation of tests known as the Catechism
Litany. The latter is chosen this morning, and it is quite possible
that a negro congregation in Surinam, or a Kaffir congregation in
South Africa may be using the same form of sound words, for it exists
both in Negro English and in Kaffir.
At 10 we are again summoned to the house of prayer by the bell. Mr.
Dam is the preacher, and is evidently moved by the thought that this
may be his last sermon in Eskimo for many a day.
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