widely differ from the people of the Sandwich Islands; where the
parochial flocks may be said rather to Heat than sing.

The psalm concluded, a prayer followed. Very considerately, the good
old missionary made it short; for the congregation became fidgety and
inattentive as soon as it commenced.

A chapter of the Tahitian Bible was now read; a text selected; and the
sermon began. It was listened to with more attention than I had
anticipated.

Having been informed, from various sources, that the discourses of the
missionaries, being calculated to engage the attention of their
simple auditors, were, naturally enough, of a rather amusing
description to strangers; in short, that they had much to say about
steamboats, lord mayor's coaches, and the way fires are put out in
London, I had taken care to provide myself with a good interpreter, in
the person of an intelligent Hawaiian sailor, whose acquaintance I
had made.

"Now, Jack," said I, before entering, "hear every word, and tell me
what you can as the missionary goes on."

Jack's was not, perhaps, a critical version of the discourse; and at
the time, I took no notes of what he said. Nevertheless, I will here
venture to give what I remember of it; and, as far as possible, in
Jack's phraseology, so as to lose nothing by a double translation.

"Good friends, I glad to see you; and I very well like to have some
talk with you to-day. Good friends, very bad times in Tahiti; it make