{"id":"01KG8AKRZNXHVGC9AMZ0MXM4MC","cid":"bafkreidzbgkozqqjtq772nzxgdsbvyhk3c6flhkmzqkf5oocuy3cy6r3nu","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":6238,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.152Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1H7Y803CZ7X80F0QFHZ","start_line":6158,"text":"Some degree of order at length restored, the service was continued, by\r\nsinging. The choir was composed of twelve or fifteen ladies of the\r\nmission, occupying a long bench to the left of the pulpit. Almost the\r\nentire congregation joined in.\r\n\r\nThe first air fairly startled me; it was the brave tune of Old Hundred,\r\nadapted to a Tahitian psalm. After the graceless scenes I had recently\r\npassed through, this circumstance, with all its accessories, moved me\r\nforcibly.\r\n\r\nMany voices around were of great sweetness and compass. The singers,\r\nalso, seemed to enjoy themselves mightily; some of them pausing, now\r\nand then, and looking round, as if to realize the scene more fully. In\r\ntruth, they sang right joyously, despite the solemnity of the tune.\r\n\r\nThe Tahitians have much natural talent for singing; and, on all\r\noccasions, are exceedingly fond of it. I have often heard a stave or\r\ntwo of psalmody, hummed over by rakish young fellows, like a snatch\r\nfrom an opera.\r\n\r\nWith respect to singing, as in most other matters, the Tahitians widely\r\ndiffer from the people of the Sandwich Islands; where the parochial\r\nflocks may be said rather to Heat than sing.\r\n\r\nThe psalm concluded, a prayer followed. Very considerately, the good\r\nold missionary made it short; for the congregation became fidgety and\r\ninattentive as soon as it commenced.\r\n\r\nA chapter of the Tahitian Bible was now read; a text selected; and the\r\nsermon began. It was listened to with more attention than I had\r\nanticipated.\r\n\r\nHaving been informed, from various sources, that the discourses of the\r\nmissionaries, being calculated to engage the attention of their simple\r\nauditors, were, naturally enough, of a rather amusing description to\r\nstrangers; in short, that they had much to say about steamboats, lord\r\nmayor’s coaches, and the way fires are put out in London, I had taken\r\ncare to provide myself with a good interpreter, in the person of an\r\nintelligent Hawaiian sailor, whose acquaintance I had made.\r\n\r\n“Now, Jack,” said I, before entering, “hear every word, and tell me\r\nwhat you can as the missionary goes on.”\r\n\r\nJack’s was not, perhaps, a critical version of the discourse; and at\r\nthe time, I took no notes of what he said. Nevertheless, I will here\r\nventure to give what I remember of it; and, as far as possible, in\r\nJack’s phraseology, so as to lose nothing by a double translation.\r\n\r\n“Good friends, I glad to see you; and I very well like to have some\r\ntalk with you to-day. Good friends, very bad times in Tahiti; it make\r\nme weep. Pomaree is gone—the island no more yours, but the Wee-wees’\r\n(French). Wicked priests here, too; and wicked idols in woman’s\r\nclothes, and brass chains.\r\n\r\n“Good friends, no you speak, or look at them—but I know you won’t—they\r\nbelong to a set of robbers—the wicked Wee-wees. Soon these bad men be\r\nmade to go very quick. Beretanee ships of thunder come and away they\r\ngo. But no more ’bout this now. I speak more by by.\r\n\r\n“Good friends, many whale-ships here now; and many bad men come in ’em.\r\nNo good sailors living—that you know very well. They come here, ’cause\r\nso bad they no keep ’em home.\r\n\r\n“My good little girls, no run after sailors—no go where they go; they\r\nharm you. Where they come from, no good people talk to ’em—just like\r\ndogs. Here, they talk to Pomaree, and drink arva with great Poofai.\r\n\r\n“Good friends, this very small island, but very wicked, and very poor;\r\nthese two go together. Why Beretanee so great? Because that island good\r\nisland, and send mickonaree to poor kannaka In Beretanee, every man\r\nrich: plenty things to buy; and plenty things to sell. Houses bigger\r\nthan Pomaree’s, and more grand. Everybody, too, ride about in coaches,\r\nbigger than hers; and wear fine tappa every day. (Several luxurious\r\nappliances of civilization were here enumerated, and described.)\r\n\r\n“Good friends, little to eat left at my house. Schooner from Sydney no\r\nbring bag of flour: and kannaka no bring pig and fruit enough.\r\nMickonaree do great deal for kannaka; kannaka do little for mickonaree.\r\nSo, good friends, weave plenty of cocoa-nut baskets, fill ’em, and\r\nbring ’em to-morrow.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AKGC2GP8BNXN4CG8XKG35","peer_type":"subsection","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1H7Y803CZ7X80F0QFHZ","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"}],"ver":1,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.349Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.349Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}