“The dancing being over, one of the old matabooles (nobles) addressed the company, making a moral discourse on the subject of chastity—­advising the young men to respect, in all cases, the wives of their neighbors, and never to take liberties even with an unmarried woman against her free consent.”

The wives of chiefs must not go about without attendants.  Mariner says, somewhat naively, that when a man has an amour, he keeps it secret from his wife,

“not out of any fear or apprehension, but because it is unnecessary to excite her jealousy, and make her perhaps unhappy; for it must be said, to the honor of the men, that they consult in no small degree, and in no few respects, the happiness and comfort of their wives.”

If Mariner tells the truth, it must be said in this respect that the Tongans are superior to all other peoples we have so far considered in this book.  Though the husband’s authority at home is absolute, and though one girl in every three is betrothed in her infancy, men do not, he says, make slaves or drudges of their wives, or sell their daughters, two out of every three girls being allowed to choose their own husbands—­“early and often.”  The men do most of the hard work, even to the cooking.  “In Tonga,” says Seemann (237), “the women have been treated from time immemorial with all the consideration demanded by their weaker and more delicate constitution, not being allowed to perform any hard work.”  Cook also found (II., 149) that the province allotted to the men was “far more laborious and extensive than that of the women,” whose employments were chiefly such as may be executed in the house.

LOVE OF SCENERY

If we may rely on Mariner there is still another point in which the Tongans appear to be far above other Polynesians, and barbarians in general.  He would have us believe that while they seldom sing about love or war, they evince a remarkable love of nature (I., 293).  He declares that they sometimes ascend a certain rock to “enjoy the sublime beauty of the surrounding scenery,” or to reflect on the deeds of their ancestors.  He cites a specimen of their songs, which, he says, is often sung by them; it is without rhymes or regular measure, and is given in a sort of recitative beginning with this highly poetic passage: 

“Whilst we were talking of Vavaoo tooa Licoo, the women said to us, let us repair to the back of the island to contemplate the setting sun:  there let us listen to the warbling of the birds and the cooing of the wood-pigeon.  We will gather flowers ... and partake of refreshments ... we will then bathe in the sea and ... anoint our skins in the sun with sweet-scented oil, and will plait in wreaths the flowers gathered at Matawlo.  And now, as we stand motionless on the eminence over Ana Manoo, the whistling of the wind among the branches of the lofty toa