A strange, woody
smell, also - more or less pervading every considerable edifice in
Polynesia - is at once perceptible. It suggests the idea of worm-eaten
idols packed away in some old lumber-room at hand.
For the most part, the congregation attending this church is composed
of the better and wealthier orders - the chiefs and their retainers;
in short, the rank and fashion of the island. This class is
infinitely superior in personal beauty and general healthfulness to
the "marenhoar," or common people; the latter having been more
exposed to the worst and most debasing evils of foreign intercourse.
On Sundays, the former are invariably arrayed in their finery; and
thus appear to the best advantage. Nor are they driven to the chapel,
as some of their inferiors are to other places of worship; on the
contrary, capable of maintaining a handsome exterior, and possessing
greater intelligence, they go voluntarily.
In respect of the woodland colonnade supporting its galleries, I
called this chapel the Church of the Cocoa-nuts.
It was the first place for Christian worship in Polynesia that I had
seen; and the impression upon entering during service was all the
stronger. Majestic-looking chiefs whose fathers had hurled the
battle-club, and old men who had seen sacrifices smoking upon the
altars of Oro, were there. And hark! hanging from the bough of a
bread-fruit tree without, a bell is being struck with a bar of iron by
a native lad.
