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. In the same spot, the blast of the war-conch had often
resounded. But to the proceedings within.

The place is well filled. Everywhere meets the eye the gay calico
draperies worn on great occasions by the higher classes, and forming
a strange contrast of patterns and colours. 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.