In the meetings an extraordinary degree of eagerness and devotion was perceived—they no longer went to church merely for form's sake, but from the impulse of their hearts, and to find comfort and enjoyment; and after the meetings, many came into the house to express their thankfulness that they now experienced the truth of what was spoken, and could bear witness of its power; or to request an explanation of what they yet but partly understood. The schools were diligently attended, and many of them, especially the men, showed a great desire to learn to write. Some proceeded so far, though with but little instruction, as to be able to write a pretty legible hand; a few copied out the collection of hymns, and several seemed to take a particular delight in letter writing, of which the following, from Jonathan to William Turner, formerly a missionary in Labrador, but then residing at the brethren's settlement at Fulneck in Yorkshire, may serve as a specimen—Jonathan and his wife Sibylla were the first Esquimaux baptized at Hopedale. It was dated October 1804——"My beloved William, First I will tell you, that since we two travelled together in a boat, and you then spake so much to me about the state of my soul, I have never forgot your words of instruction. I was a very bad man at that time, and also when you lived here I walked in darkness, and continually did that which was bad. After I was baptized I was not much better, and when I went with you to the holy communion while you lived here, I had many bad thoughts, of which I very much repent. But since you left us, I have turned with my whole heart to Jesus, and all my thoughts and desires are drawn towards him.—Now that I begin to be old, the feeling of his forgiveness is my only comfort, and I have nothing which I so much desire after as Him, and to enjoy His peace in my heart. I will never more leave my teachers. I can be satisfied no longer with anything but my loved Jesus, therefore I wish I loved my Saviour more than I do. He loves me much, that I feel and know, but I am a poor human creature, and know by experience, that I can do nothing of myself, no, not even love him as I would. I pray constantly that he would keep me and instruct me, and my heart feels that when I go daily to him and crave his help, he hears me, and lets me experience that he is a loving Saviour, ready and willing to help. I do not forget him when I am in my usual occupations, but my mind is always craving after Jesus; when I go about with my boat, and am absent from my brethren, still my soul is taken up with Him. My wish is, also, that I may have a pleasant grave for my body when I die," meaning that he might be with believers in their burying ground. "I love my wife as I ought. When you was here, I was always leading her into bad things, but now we often speak together, that we will fix our minds only upon Jesus, and both live only for him, loving and following him. I am your poor Jonathan. William! I salute you and your wife."
The awakened Esquimaux were also examples of industry to their countrymen, and in the years of scarcity, the brethren remarked with pleasure, that they had a sufficiency, while the heathen were starving; for with their Christianity, they had not only learned diligence, but economy and foresight. Nor did they now, as formerly, depend upon the stores of the missionaries, or tease them for food after they had wasted their own; but rather suffered hunger, or were contented with a very scanty meal, while they showed a readiness to assist them in all their undertakings, in cutting wood, building houses, or making roads which were found necessary for the convenience of the station.
While the missionaries in Hopedale were rejoicing in the great mercy shown to their beloved Esquimaux, the brethren at Nain were mourning over the sore backslidings of many of their congregation. "We are sorry to say," are the lamentations of their letter, "that most of our Esquimaux flock seem to fall very far short of what we might expect, and the craft and power of Satan is but too often visibly exerted to pluck up and to destroy the good seed sown into their hearts. We discovered grievous deviations into which some had fallen last summer, during their absence from us; and we perceived with pain, that in difficult occurrences, or in sickness, they are too hasty to listen to the sorcerers, and take refuge to their legerdemain tricks for help, rather than call upon our Saviour, and trust to him. Some, however, are of a different description, and give us good hopes of their being faithful."
The brethren at Okkak likewise hung their harps upon the willows. "Our baptized brethren have not," say they sorrowfully, "been as steady as they ought. When we spoke with individuals after their return to us, concerning their spiritual condition, we discovered, to our great grief, among some of them, offences and wicked practices which had long been kept secret. We were obliged to advise several rather to leave us quietly than serve sin in secret, and attempt to deceive us by their untruths and hypocrisy. With some this produced repentance and reflection, and they begged to be forgiven and borne with; but two persons were dismissed, and two excluded from the communion. In general there was great lukewarmness of heart observed among the people, and we had but few instances of genuine conversion." They were also invited by their heathen friends in the north to come and eat whale-flesh, and all our remonstrances were in vain, for they answered, "that if they stayed at Okkak they must suffer hunger." An epidemic disease again visited this settlement, and carried off seven individuals very suddenly, which struck such terror among the people, that the greater part of them fled from the place to escape the contagion; but the missionaries remarked, that neither upon the sick or the dying, nor upon the healthy, was any salutary effect produced. The dogs too were attacked with a similar disorder, and many died along the coast—a serious loss to the Esquimaux.
Meanwhile the awakening at Hopedale continued to go forward, and early in the summer extended itself to the children. The young, as well as the old, had been addicted to a gross and loathsome sensuality, which, although both they and their parents considered as trivial, yet they kept it carefully concealed from the missionaries. It happened now, however, that a grandmother, who herself perceived the iniquity of these depraved practices, caught her grand-daughter repeating some of the acts for which she had formerly chastised her; but instead of beating her, she carried her to the missionary to whom she was ordered to confess every thing. Surprised and horror-struck at the disclosure, the missionaries immediately spoke to the parents and children, and with great earnestness and plainness represented to them the criminality of such doings. To their inexpressible grief they found that the corruption had extended even to the youngest, and that some of the parents had concealed, and even now excused their conduct; they therefore held a special meeting with the parents and children, and addressing them according to their capacities, warned them in the most forcible manner of the frightful consequences of these secret sins, and exhorted all earnestly and affectionately to flee to the Saviour—throw themselves at his feet—implore his mercy and forgiveness, and pray to be delivered from the slavery of sin and Satan. Then kneeling down with the whole company, they entreated the Saviour to heal the deep wounds they had inflicted on their souls, and the injury they had done to his cause. Their prayers were heard. A pungent sorrow for their former sinful lives, was felt and expressed by old and young; this was followed by a general awakening among the children, which again had a powerful effect in stirring up the more advanced to seek a closer union with Christ, and to strive more earnestly after holiness. Children were now observed to retire to mountains and to vallies, where, on their knees alone, and in groupes, they besought the Saviour with tears to have mercy on them, forgive their sins, and receive them into the number of his children: and many of the unbaptized little ones showed a great anxiety to be favoured with that ordinance.—It was a blessed time—all hearts were opened to attend to the instructions and exhortations brought from the word of God—all were inflamed with the love of Jesus, and the eagerness to hear more and more of Him who was the friend of sinners, was indescribable.
When the Esquimaux returned from their summer places, and settled at Hopedale for the winter 1804-5, their teachers found, to their great comfort, that they had not only been preserved from sinful practices, but that the work of the Holy Ghost, so manifest during the foregoing winter, especially in the hearts of some of the women, had made farther progress. They had become better acquainted with the natural depravity of their own hearts, and the wretched state of a soul without Christ, which made them cry to him for mercy; and they had truly experienced grace and the forgiveness of sin in his precious blood, by which their hearts were filled with joy and comfort in believing. Out of the abundance of their hearts, therefore, their mouths spake of the love and power of Jesus, by which a very serious impression was made on the whole inhabitants of the settlement, and all longed to be partakers of the same grace. This spark of the Lord's own kindling spread rapidly; and the missionaries had daily visits, either from inquirers crying out, what shall we do to be saved? or from those who had obtained peace, to tell them what the Lord had done for them. A widow, in reference to a conversation she had with one of the missionaries the day before, expressed herself thus: "Now I rejoice that I can again visit the meetings, where I hear of Him who, notwithstanding all my worthlessness, has so loved me! When we are assembled, I will ever pray to Jesus that he would put such words in your mouth as will speak to my heart." Another said, "I am often moved to tears when I consider what God my Saviour has done for me. I start back with terror when I reflect upon my former wicked life. I have been an abominable sinner; and that Jesus should have received me in mercy, and granted me to believe that his blood can wash away all my sins, and deliver me from the power of evil, is a favour so great that I am amazed at it, and sink down with shame and gratitude. I can do nothing but look to him. I am as one walking upon a smooth sheet of ice, and obliged at every step to guard against falling. He must uphold me, and for this my heart is constantly lifted up in prayer to him." The observation of a third was, "I am convinced that I have hitherto failed in truly hungering and thirsting after the love of the Saviour; since my baptism I have been as one standing where the road is divided." Several others made similar declarations.
While this heavenly flame was in full blaze at Hopedale, two young Esquimaux, Siksigak and Kapik, arrived there from Nain, February 1805. Their parents were both baptized; they were as wild as the wildest of the heathen. The former had separated from his wife, who was baptized, for some time and meant to convey her back to her mother, to get rid of an incumbrance, intending to marry another at Nain, who promised to second him better in his heathenish abominations—to leave the believers altogether, and along with his companion, to enjoy his freedom, and live with him in the gratification of every evil lust. But they were both arrested by the power of the Lord. Siksigak, as soon as they reached Hopedale, took his wife, Benigna, to her mother, the widow Rachel's, and pushing her in said, "Never come more in my sight." He then went to his own mother's house, on entering which he found the Esquimaux engaged in prayer, as was their custom before they went to rest; for she had been converted, joined the church, and was married to a second husband. The family did not allow themselves to be disturbed by his arrival, and he sat down quite astonished at what he saw and heard, till prayer was ended, when he informed them for what purpose he had come. The whole company then began to entreat him most earnestly not to part from his wife, but rather to turn with his whole heart to Jesus. The missionaries likewise added their exhortations, but without avail; he still persisted in his determination. His relations perceiving that he was immoveably fixed, resorted to prayer; and, on the following day, they all assembled around him in his mother's house, kneeled down, and cried unto our Saviour that he would convert him. The mother expressed herself thus, "O! my Lord Jesus! behold this is my child, I now give him up to thee! O accept of him, and suffer him not to be lost forever!"
Such a scene, so unprecedented and so unexpected, had an immediate effect on the young man; he was filled with concern for his soul's salvation. He burst from them, and in the greatest distress ran to brother Kohlmeister's, where Kapik was waiting for him with the greatest impatience.
Provisions being placed before them, Kohlmeister sat down to write at a table with his back turned to them. While attempting to eat, Siksigak repeatedly sighed deeply, and at length began bitterly to lament his wretched state in disjointed exclamations: "O! how agonizing the thought! I am so wicked! I am lost!" "What is it? what do you want?" asked his companion in a rude and angry tone. "O! I am so wicked! I am lost!" replied the tortured Siksigak. Kohlmeister, who thought some accident had befallen him, turned round in an indifferent manner and asked him what is your name? Kapik, supposing the question addressed to him, answered, "Kapik." "And will you always continue to be Kapik?" said Kohlmeister. "I will always be Kapik," returned the other.[H] "Wilt thou go away then and be quiet?" said the missionary, sharply. Meanwhile, he was observing Siksigak, who, in his agony and confusion, was turning the spoon in his hand, and bringing it to his mouth empty, apparently without knowing what he was about. Kapik, still more distracted than his companion, threw his spoon from him and rushed out of the house. He was met at the door by another missionary who, seeing his wild appearance, asked him, "Will you never change your life—never be converted?" "I know nothing about conversion," replied Kapik, and went off in a rage. Coming to his cousin's where he was to sleep, he found the whole family engaged in their evening worship, and at the instant he entered, he heard his relative praying for his conversion. That night he retired silently to bed.
Siksigak, so soon as his companion was gone, broke out, and like one in despair, paced the room with quick and hurried steps, tearing his clothes and his hair, and crying aloud, "O! unhappy man! I am so wicked! I am lost! I am lost!" Kohlmeister now asked him affectionately who told him that he was so wicked and must be lost? Siksigak related what had taken place at his mother's, and how her words had pierced him; and with much compunction ingenuously confessed the abominations of which he had been guilty, and the sins in which he had still intended to indulge. The missionary then asked him, whether he sincerely resolved to amend his life? and being answered in the affirmative, told him, he had put away his wife, that was a great sin, wholly contrary to the will of God; and if he would be delivered from his present agony, he must, in the first place, openly take her back. "That," cried out Siksigak, "I will gladly do; my wife is good, but I am bad! very bad!" Immediately he ran to his mother and told her all; and with such humility, that his countenance indicated the change that had taken place in his mind, and the begun answer to her prayer. They then proceeded together to his wife, of whom he begged forgiveness for all the ill usage she had received from him, and promised, by the assistance of God, never more to give her cause to complain, if she would consent to come and live again with him. Agreeably surprised at so sudden and unlooked for a change, she cheerfully and readily agreed to return. Siksigak having given this proof of his sincerity, went to the missionary—for still he had got no rest to his soul; and he preached to him the Saviour who receiveth sinners, and called upon him to turn to Jesus and pray to him, though he could say nothing else but, "Jesus, thou Son of God, have mercy upon me!" He followed this counsel, and that same night was delivered from all his distress, and could believe that his sins were forgiven.