ISBN: 9781130610543

RareBooksClub. Paperback. New. This item is printed on demand. Paperback. 128 pages. Dimensions: 9.7in. x 7.4in. x 0.3in.This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Pur… Mehr…

RareBooksClub. Paperback. New. This item is printed on demand. Paperback. 128 pages. Dimensions: 9.7in. x 7.4in. x 0.3in.This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1894 edition. Excerpt: . . . their furniture, stole their food and manuscripts, pelted them with stones, and broke their boat which was their last hope of subsistence. And when starvation was threatening these noble Moravians, with monstrous ingratitude and cruelty they would not even sell them one morsel of food, though they themselves had abundance. Seldom has mission work held out less hope. The Eskimos were repulsive dwarfs, with minds and hearts even worse dwarfed than their bodies. Their looks were ugly, their habits filthy. Mothers licked their children as cats do their kittens, and they all wallowed like swine in the mire of their uncleanness. Hans Egede had found all his efforts for their uplifting met by resistance, doggedly stubborn and malicious. They invoked the aid of their Angekoks to destroy him with their wizard arts, and when these failed they thought he must be chief of wizards, as his Master has been called Prince of Demons. But the motto of these brave men was, Lose thy way, but lose not thy faith, and they held on to God and persevered in prayer. The first sign that Gods summer sun was melting these icy hearts was when John Becks infant daughter drew their eyes to the beauty of Christian home-life. Once more the prophecy was fulfilled: And a little child shall lead them. Her lisping lips somehow softened their rudeness and warmed their coldness; and when the Eskimo mothers heard her singing holy hymns, they yearned to hear their little ones sing like her, and began themselves to learn those simple gospel songs which Beck and Boehnisch had written in the native tongue. Then in 1738, as Beck was in his humble hut preparing an Eskimo Bible, a company of Green-landers from the South came in and watched him at his work, wondering that a piece of paper. . . This item ships from La Vergne,TN., RareBooksClub, RareBooksClub. Paperback. New. This item is printed on demand. Paperback. 128 pages. Dimensions: 9.7in. x 7.4in. x 0.3in.This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1884 Excerpt: . . . you are good, because you always do precisely as 1 wish, because you always tell me you love me, because you are like the enchanters in fairy-land, you know--those old, old men with long beards, who always give their god-children everything they want. I love you for all the happiness you give me: for my carriage, my pretty horses, and my beautiful dresses, for the bright gold pieces you give me, without counting, for the pearl necklace round my neck, for this new bracelet--for everything, in fact. The enumeration was desolating. Each word evinced her absolute, intolerable selfishness; and yet the banker listened with a smile, charmed and delighted, in a state of unreasoning beatitude. Well, and why do you love him he asked. 1 Because, said Flavia, suddenly becoming very serious--because i love him; first, because he is himself, and then--and then--I love him! Her tone revealed such intensity of passion, that the poor father with difficulty restrained a gesture of despair. She saw the expression of his face, and burst out laughing. You are jealous, I do verily believe, she exclaimed, in the tone a parent adopts towards a child who has committed some trifling fault. Fie for shame! Thats very naughty, sir! You dont even like that window, because I first saw Paul from it. Thats very wrong, very bad indeed! Still, like a scolded child, the father dropped his head. Ah! well, resumed Flavia, love that window, for it recalls to me the strongest, sweetest emotion of my life. It was four months ago, and yet, father, it seems to me as if it were only this morning. I had gone to the window, without a motive--purely by chance--yes, chance, and yet we are told we are the masters of . . . This item ships from La Vergne,TN., RareBooksClub<