are formal; they imply no
more than social recognition; and they are made and reciprocated, as we
pay and return our morning visits. And the practice of marking and
measuring events and sentiments by presents is universal in the island
world. A gift plays with them the part of stamp and seal; and has
entered profoundly into the mind of islanders. Peace and war, marriage,
adoption and naturalisation are celebrated or declared by the acceptance
or the refusal of gifts; and it is as natural for the islander to bring
a gift as for us to carry a card-case.

CHAPTER X

A PORTRAIT AND A STORY

I have had occasion several times to name the late bishop, Father
Dordillon, "Monseigneur," as he is still almost universally called,
Vicar-Apostolic of the Marquesas and Bishop of Cambysopolis _in
partibus_. Everywhere in the islands, among all classes and races, this
fine, old, kindly, cheerful fellow is remembered with affection and
respect. His influence with the natives was paramount. They reckoned him
the highest of men--higher than an admiral; brought him their money to
keep; took his advice upon their purchases; nor would they plant trees
upon their own land till they had the approval of the father of the
islands. During the time of the French exodus he singly represented
Europe, living in the Residency, and ruling by the hand of Temoana. The
first roads were made under his auspices and by his persuasion. The old
road between Hatiheu and Anaho was got under way from either side on the
ground that it would be pleasant for an evening promenade, and brought
to completion by working on the rivalry of the two villages. The priest
would boast in Hatiheu of the progress made in Anaho, and he would tell
the folk of Anaho, "If you don't take care, your neighbours will be over
the hill before you are at the top." It could not be so done to-day; it
could then; death, opium, and depopulation had not gone so far; and the
people of Hatiheu, I was told, still vied with each other in fine
attire, and used to go out by families, in the cool of the evening,
boat-sailing and racing in the bay. There seems some truth at least in
the common view, that this joint reign of Temoana and the bishop was
the last and brief golden age of the Marquesas. But the civil power
returned, the mission was packed out of the Residency at twenty-four
hours' notice, new methods supervened, and the golden age (whatever it
quite was) came to an end. It is the