Nothing, perhaps, shows the innate respect for rank more than the conduct of the Tahitans toward their queen. Personally she was not in the least respected, nor indeed did she deserve respect. Being the only daughter of Pomaré II., and deriving from her birth the title of Pomaré Vahine, by which she was better known than by the name of Aimata, she became queen in 1827, on the death of her infant brother. Her conduct as queen was at first of the most unqueenly kind. She resisted to the utmost the attempts that were being made to improve the moral condition of the people, and did her best, both by precept and example, to bring back the state of unrestrained licentiousness which had reigned through the land. Yet, in spite of her conduct, the respect for her rank was in no way diminished, and, as has been seen, she could be on familiar terms with the lowest of her subjects without derogating from her dignity.

The amusements of the Tahitans are much like those of other Polynesians, and therefore need but little description. The Tahitans are fond of singing, and possess good voices and ears, so that they have been apt pupils in European music. As a rule, however, they prefer singing the air, or at most a first and second, the more elaborate movements of concerted music scarcely pleasing them. They excel in keeping time, and exhibit this capacity not only in their songs but in their dances. The native mode of singing is not pleasing to an English ear, being of a monotonous character, nasal in tone, and full of abrupt transitions from the highest to the lowest notes.

The native songs are mostly on two subjects, namely, love and war, the former predominating, as is likely to be the case from the quiet and peaceable character of the people. Sometimes their songs assume a more patriotic cast, and set forth the praises of their island home, the beauty of its scenery, and the fertility of its soil. The singers are usually women, whose sweet voices render pleasing even the nasal intonations. The men sing but seldom, and when they do exert their voices, they almost invariably use the harsh native mode of vocalization.

Their musical instruments are but few. They have of course the drum, with which they accompany their songs and dances, not by beating it violently after the African style of drumming, but gently tapping it with the fingers. The drums are of different sizes, and are all cylindrical, and very long in proportion to their diameter. Like many other uncivilized people, they display a great fondness for the Jews’ harp, partly because it is easy to play, and partly because it reproduces to some extent the peculiar intervals of savage music.

The chief native instrument that is capable of producing different notes is a sort of flageolet or “hoe,” which produces a low, deep tone, something like the “drone” of the bag-pipe. The native musician can tune his instrument in a very simple manner. The mouth-piece is split longitudinally, so that the pieces vibrate like those of any “reed” instrument. Surrounding the mouth-piece is a ring of soft wood, and by pushing this forward, or driving it back, the performer can tune his instrument with some nicety, the former movement producing a sharp, and the latter a graver tone.

The hoe is seldom played alone, and is generally used as an accompaniment to the native dances. The performers, after tuning their instruments, sit in a circle, pressed closely together, and, bending forward so that their heads are bowed over their knees, play in admirable time, though as much praise can scarcely be given to the melody.

Following the instincts of the savage nature, the Tahitans are passionately fond of cock-fighting, and amusements of a similar character. Some of them are of a more harmless character. One of the most manly and graceful of these amusements closely resembles the surf swimming of the Sandwich Islanders, and is thus described by Captain Cook:—

“Neither were they strangers to the soothing effects produced by particular sorts of motion, which in some cases seem to allay any perturbation of mind with as much success as music. Of this I met with a remarkable instance. For on walking one day about Matavai Point, where our tents were erected, I saw a man paddling in a small canoe so swiftly, and looking about with such eagerness on each side, as to command all my attention.

“At first I imagined that he had stolen something from one of the ships, and was pursued, but on waiting patiently saw him repeat his amusement. He went out from the shore till he was near the place where the swell begins to take its rise; and watching its first motion very attentively, paddled before it with great quickness till he found that it overtook him, and had acquired sufficient force to carry his canoe before it without passing underneath. He then sat motionless, and was carried along at the same swift rate as the wave, till it landed him upon the beach, when he started out, emptied his canoe, and went in search of another swell.

“I could not help concluding that this man felt the most supreme pleasure while he was driven on so fast and so smoothly by the sea, especially as, though the tents and ships were so near, he did not seem in the least to envy, or even to take any notice of the crowds of his countrymen collected to view them as objects which were rare and curious.