In the Wrong Paradise | Page 8

the smoke escaped. The ceiling itself,
which was supported by carved rafters, was in places quite black with
the vapour of many years. The smoke, however, was thin, and as the
fuel on the fire, and on the braziers, was of dry cedar and sandal-wood,
the perfume, though heavy, was not unpleasant. The room was partly
illuminated by the fire itself, partly by braziers full of blazing branches
of trees; but, what was most remarkable, there were rows of metal
images of young men (naked, I am sorry to say), with burning torches
in their hands, ranged all along the side walls.

A good deal of taste, in one sense, had been expended in making these
images, and money had clearly been no object. I might have been
somewhat dazzled by the general effect, had I not reflected that, in my
own country, gas is within reach of the poorest purse, while the electric
light itself may be enjoyed by the very beggar in the street. Here, on the
contrary, the dripping of the wax from the torches, the black smoke on
the roof, the noisy crackling of the sandal-wood in the braziers, all
combined to prove that these natives, though ingenious enough in their
way, were far indeed below the level of modern civilization. The
abominable ceremony of the afternoon would have proved as much,
and now the absence of true comfort, even in the dwelling of a chief,
made me think once more of the hardships of a missionary's career.
But I must endeavour to complete the picture of domestic life in the
island, which I now witnessed for the first time, and which will never
be seen again by Europeans. The walls themselves were of some dark
but glittering metal, on which designs in lighter metal were inlaid.
There were views of the chief going to the chase, his bow in his hand;
of the chief sacrificing to idols; of men and young women engaged in
the soul- destroying practice of promiscuous dancing; there were wild
beasts, lions among others; rivers, with fish in them; mountains, trees,
the sun and moon, and stars, all not by any means ill designed, for the
work of natives. The pictures, indeed, reminded me a good deal of the
ugly Assyrian curiosities in the British Museum, as I have seen them
when conducting the children of the Bungletonian Band of Hope
through the rooms devoted to the remains of Bible peoples, such as the
Egyptians, Hittites, and others.
Red or blue curtains, strangely embroidered, hung over the doors, and
trophies of swords, shields, and spears, not of steel, but of some darker
metal, were fixed on the tall pillars that helped to prop the roof. At the
top of the wall, just beneath the open unglazed spaces, which admitted
light and air in the daytime, and wind and rain in bad weather, was a
kind of frieze, or coping, of some deep blue material. {30} All along
the sides of the hall ran carved seats, covered with pretty light
embroidered cloths, not very different from modern Oriental fabrics.
The carpets and rugs were precisely like those of India and Persia, and I

supposed that they must have been obtained through commerce. But I
afterwards learned that they were, beyond doubt, of native
manufacture.
At the further end of the room was a kind of platform, or dais, on which
tables were set with fruit and wine. But much more curious than the
furniture of the hall was the group of women sitting by the fire in the
centre. There sat in two rows some twenty girls, all busily weaving, and
throwing the shuttle from hand to hand, laughing and chattering in low
voices. In the midst of them, on a high chair of cedar-wood, decorated
with ivory, and with an ivory footstool, sat a person whom, in a
civilized country, one must have looked on with respect as a lady of
high rank. She, like her husband the chief, had a golden circlet twisted
in her hair, which was still brown and copious, and she wore an
appearance of command.
At her feet, on a stool, reclined a girl who was, I must confess, of
singular beauty. Doto had long fair hair, a feature most unusual among
these natives. She had blue eyes, and an appearance of singular
innocence and frankness. She was, at the moment, embroidering a piece
of work intended, as I afterwards learned with deep pain, for the
covering of one of their idols, to whose service the benighted young
woman was devoted. Often in after days, I saw Doto stooping above
her embroidery and deftly interweaving the green and golden threads
into the patterns of beasts and flowers. Often my heart went out to this
poor child of pagan