In some instances, these
are so fashioned as to resemble as much as possible European
garments. This is in excessively bad taste. Coats and pantaloons,
too, are here and there seen; but they look awkwardly enough, and take
away from the general effect.
But it is the array of countenances that most strikes you. Each is
suffused with the peculiar animation of the Polynesians, when thus
collected in large numbers. Every robe is rustling, every limb in
motion, and an incessant buzzing going on throughout the assembly.
The tumult is so great that the voice of the placid old missionary,
who now rises, is almost inaudible. Some degree of silence is at
length obtained through the exertions of half-a-dozen strapping
fellows, in white shirts and no pantaloons. Running in among the
settees, they are at great pains to inculcate the impropriety of
making a noise by creating a most unnecessary racket themselves. This
part of the service was quite comical.
There is a most interesting Sabbath School connected with the church;
and the scholars, a vivacious, mischievous set, were in one part of
the gallery. I was amused by a party in a corner. The teacher sat at
one end of the bench, with a meek little fellow by his side. When the
others were disorderly, this young martyr received a rap; intended,
probably, as a sample of what the rest might expect, if they didn't
amend.
Standing in the body of the church, and leaning against a pillar, was
an old man, in appearance very different from others of his
countrymen. He wore nothing but a coarse, scant mantle of faded
tappa; and from his staring, bewildered manner, I set him down as an
aged bumpkin from the interior, unaccustomed to the strange sights
and sounds of the metropolis. This old worthy was sharply reprimanded
for standing up, and thus intercepting the view of those behind; but
not comprehending exactly what was said to him, one of the
white-liveried gentry made no ceremony of grasping him by the
shoulders, and fairly crushing him down into a seat.
During all this, the old missionary in the pulpit - as well as his
associates beneath, never ventured to interfere - leaving everything
to native management. With South Sea islanders, assembled in any
numbers, there is no other way of getting along.
CHAPTER XLV.
MISSIONARY'S SERMON; WITH SOME REFLECTIONS
SOME degree of order at length restored, the service was continued, by
singing. The choir was composed of twelve or fifteen ladies of the
mission, occupying a long bench to the left of the pulpit. Almost the
entire congregation joined in.
The first air fairly startled me; it was the brave tune of Old
Hundred, adapted to a Tahitian psalm. After the graceless scenes I
had recently passed through, this circumstance, with all its
accessories, moved me forcibly.
