f getting along.

CHAPTER XLV.

MISSIONARY'S SERMON; WITH SOME REFLECTIONS

SOME degree of order at length restored, the service was continued, by
singing. The choir was composed of twelve or fifteen ladies of the
mission, occupying a long bench to the left of the pulpit. Almost the
entire congregation joined in.

The first air fairly startled me; it was the brave tune of Old
Hundred, adapted to a Tahitian psalm. After the graceless scenes I
had recently passed through, this circumstance, with all its
accessories, moved me forcibly.

Many voices around were of great sweetness and compass. The singers,
also, seemed to enjoy themselves mightily; some of them pausing, now
and then, and looking round, as if to realize the scene more fully.
In truth, they sang right joyously, despite the solemnity of the
tune.

The Tahitians have much natural talent for singing; and, on all
occasions, are exceedingly fond of it. I have often heard a stave or
two of psalmody, hummed over by rakish young fellows, like a snatch
from an opera.

With respect to singing, as in most other matters, the Tahitians
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