August 8th. Bay of Islands._--The wind being very light I
determined to visit some of the settlements in this extensive bay in
my boat. Accordingly, Messrs. Johnson and Tucker, with one of the
sailors and a boy, rowed me to McIvor's Cove, where reside four
families, whom I have visited on each former occasion. They
accomplished the distance, about ten miles, in three hours. We arrived
at a quarter past one o'clock, after calling on the people, who all
recognised me, and with apparent pleasure; and desiring them to
prepare themselves and their children, and the best room, for a
service, we took our refreshment, which we had brought with us, in a
pretty green nook where a little river runs into the sea, using the
fallen trunk of a large tree for our table. It would have served for a
very large, or rather a very long party. We had our service in the
house of old Parks, who is mentioned in my Journal of 1849, as having
been visited by Archdeacon Wix. The children of three families were
brought to be received into the Church. It was very sad to witness the
ignorance, and almost imbecility, into which two of the three mothers,
who had been born and brought up in this wilderness, were fallen. The
third, who came from a distant settlement, and could read, was
different, and superior in every respect. One of the women, married
only five years, could not remember what her name was before marriage.
It would seem, too, as if the physical constitution degenerated with
the mental. Her child, which she brought to be baptized, had on one
hand two fingers, on the other only one, and on each foot only three
toes. I addressed them after the service; but I believe if my
discourse had been in Latin, it would have been as much, perhaps more,
attended to. The old woman began to talk to Mr. Johnson's little boy,
interrupting her own discourse and mine by occasionally telling the
dogs to "jump out," a command which from her, but her only, was always
obeyed; obeyed, but soon forgotten; for presently the same dog "jumped
in" again. The old man called for a match to light his pipe with, and
it was only by preventing his wish being complied with, that I could
engage his attention. After this painful service, and more painful
separation (for nothing could be more painful than to leave Christian
people in such ignorance and unconcern about their souls), we rowed
over to Frenchman's Cove (about two miles and a half), a lovely spot,
inhabited by two fa