_Sunday, August 1st._--Another peculiarly cold night, so cold indeed that I could not sleep although I had taken care to make proper preparations against it. How these poor ill clad, blanketless people fare I cannot make out, but no doubt they pile on the wood. It was most perfectly calm all through the night, and this morning there was a very heavy dew. The wind was blowing from some westerly quarter, and it has continued there with some strength all the day. We began our day very early with a Celebration of the Holy Communion. The two Arthurs, Patrick, and myself made up the quorum. It was a nice, quiet, refreshing time, and a fresh and green oasis in a somewhat arid, spiritual desert. I think, perhaps, it belongs to the native character and disposition to do without certain things which are to us essential, and the loss even of the Holy Communion is not so serious deprivation to them as to us. Native minds, I fancy, adapt themselves too readily to the existing condition of things, and because they live in the desert they must never even pine for the food and water which is not directly attainable. Unless the Holy things of our religion are kept before them in constant practice they are too wont to dispense with them, and be content with the dry husks such as their neighbours around feed upon. I shall therefore try to keep up the regular administration of the Holy Communion both for the present strengthening and refreshing of their souls, and for a continual remembrance that the reception of it is necessary to salvation. Easy native natures are too apt to float along with the popular stream, and to be content with dry, dull teaching and drier, duller services, and I sometimes long for the time when we shall have a more ornate church and appointments, and a more elaborate ritual. I firmly believe it would be helpful to the congregation. Now we are too content with such things as we have, and they are poor at the best.