whereas Lifu offered little that they could not see at home, and schooling without novelty was tedious.  Indeed, the sight of civilised life, the being taken to church, the kindness of the friends around the College, were no slight engines in their education; but the Lifu people were not advanced enough to serve as an example—­except that they had renounced the more horrible of their heathen habits.  They were in that unsettled state which is peculiarly trying in the conversion of nations, when the old authoritative customs have been overthrown, and the Christian rules not established.

It was a good sign that the respect for the chief was not diminished.  One evening an English sailor (for there turned out to be three whites on the island) who was employed in the sandal-wood trade was in the house conversing with Tutoo, when Angadhohua interrupted him, and he—­in ignorance of the youth’s rank—­pushed him aside out of the way.  The excitement was great.  A few years previously the offender would have been killed on the spot, and as it was, it was only after apology and explanation of his ignorance that he was allowed to go free; but an escort was sent with him to a place twenty miles off lest any one should endeavour to avenge the insult, not knowing it had been forgiven.

Many of the customs of these Loyalty Isles are very unhealthy, and the almost exclusive vegetable diet produced a low habit of body, that showed itself in all manner of scrofulous diseases, especially tumours, under which the sufferer wasted and died.  Much of Patteson’s time was taken up by applications from these poor creatures, who fancied him sure to heal them, and had hardly the power, certainly not the will, to follow his advice.

Nor had he any authority.  He only felt himself there on sufferance till the promised deputation should come from Rarotonga from the London Mission, to decide whether the island should be reserved by them, or yielded to the Church.  Meantime he says on Sunday:—­

’Tutoo has had a pretty hard day’s work of it, poor fellow, and he is anything but strong.  At 9.30 we all went to the chapel, which began by a hymn sung as roughly as possible, but having rather a fine effect from the fact of some 400 or 500 voices all singing in unison.  Then a long extemporary prayer, then another hymn, then a sermon nearly an hour long.  It ought not to have taken more than a quarter of an hour, but it was delivered very slowly, with endless repetitions, otherwise there was some order and arrangement about it.  Another hymn brought the service to an end about 11.  But his work was not done; school instantly succeeded in the same building, and though seven native teachers were working their classes, the burthen of it fell on him.  School was concluded with a short extemporary prayer.  At three, service again—­hymn, prayer, another long sermon, hymn, and at last we were out of chapel, there being no more school.’