More than two thousand Chinese in Tahiti, nearly all kin within a few degrees, found in this humble church a substitute for their family temples in China, where usually each clan has its own place of worship.  The laboring class of this fecund people seldom extend their real devotion beyond their ancestors and the principle of fatherhood, their reasoning being that of the wise Jewish charge to honor one’s father (and mother) that one’s life may be long.  Loving sons take care of old parents.  It is the old Oriental patriarchy sublimated by the imposition of commerce upon agriculture.

The Chinese came to Tahiti during the American Civil War.  They were brought by an English planter to grow cotton, then scarce on account of the blockade and desolation of the South.  With the end of the war, and the looms of Manchester again supplied, the plantation languished, and the Chinese took other employment, became planters themselves, or set up little shops.  They now had most of the retail business of the island, and all of it outside Papeete.

The secretary-general gave me figures about them.

“There are twenty-two hundred Chinese in Tahiti now,” said he.  “We are willing to receive all who come.  They are needed to restore the population.  Who would keep the stores or grow vegetables if we did not have the Chinese?  We exact no entrance fee, but we number every man, and photograph him, to keep a record.  There is no government agent in China to further this emigration, but those here write home, and induce their relatives to come.  We hope for enough to make labor plentiful.  All cannot keep stores.”

“Have you no Japanese?”

“Only those who work for the phosphate company at the island of Makatea,” replied the secretary-general.  “They are well paid, their fare to Tahiti and return secured, and otherwise they are favored.  The Government has agreed with a company to promote Chinese emigration to the Marquesas.  There are thousands needed.  In French Oceanie there are twelve thousand possible workers for nearly a million acres of land.  This land could easily feed two hundred thousand people.  The natives are dying fast, and we must replace them, or the land will become jungle.”

“Couldn’t you bring French Chinese from Indo-China?” I asked.

“We haven’t any workers to spare there,” he answered.

In Papeete the Chinese were, as in America, a mysterious, elusive race, the immigrants remaining homogeneous in habits, closely united in social and business activities, and with a solid front to the natives and the whites.  They lived much as in China, though in more healthful surroundings.  Every vice they had in China they brought to Tahiti; their virtues they left behind, except those strict ethics in commerce and finance which must be carried out successfully to “save face.”  Their community in this island, with a climate and people as different from their own as the land from the sea, was in their thoughts a part