The islanders appeared mild, docile, and intelligent, notwithstanding
the singular delusion that possessed them. Living from day to day,
they were, doubtless, ignorant of those continual cares and
calculations for the future that in the old world pursue us even into
the hours of sleep. Were they happier in consequence? Yes, if the
child is happier than the man, and if we admit that we often loose in
tranquillity and happiness what we gain in knowledge and perfection:
yes, if happiness is not exclusively attached to certain peoples and
certain climates; yes, if it is true that, with contentment, happiness
is everywhere to be found.
The houses of the Hawaians are singular structures, and scarcely can
be called dwellings. They consist of three rows of posts, two on each
side and one in the middle, the whole covered with a slanting roof,
but without any kind of wall whatever.
They do not bury their dead, but swing them up in a sort of hammock,
abundantly supplied with provisions. It is supposed that this is done
with a view to enable the souls of the departed to take their flight
more readily to heaven. The practice, consequently, seems to indicate
that the natives possess a confused idea of a future state. When a
child dies, flowers are placed in the hammock along with the
provisions--a touch of the nature common to us all.
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