'em, and bring 'em to-morrow."

Such was the substance of great part of this discourse; and, whatever
may be thought of it, it was specially adapted to the minds of the
islanders: who are susceptible to no impressions, except from things
palpable, or novel and striking. To them, a dry sermon would be dry
indeed.

The Tahitians can hardly ever be said to reflect: they are all
impulse; and so, instead of expounding dogmas, the missionaries give
them the large type, pleasing cuts, and short and easy lessons of the
primer. Hence, anything like a permanent religious impression is
seldom or never produced.

In fact, there is, perhaps, no race upon earth, less disposed, by
nature, to the monitions of Christianity, than the people of the
South Seas. And this assertion is made with full knowledge of what is
called the "Great Revival at the Sandwich Islands," about the year
1836; when several thousands were, in the course of a few weeks,
admitted into the bosom of the Church. But this result was brought
about by no sober moral convictions; as an almost instantaneous
relapse into every kind of licentiousness soon after testified. It
was the legitimate effect of a morbid feeling, engendered by the
sense of severe physical wants, preying upon minds excessively prone
to superstition; and, by fanatical preaching, inflamed into the belief
that the gods of the missionaries were taking vengeance upon the
wickedness of the land.

It is a noteworthy fact that those very traits in the Tahitians, which
induced the London Missionary Society to regard them as the most