From the time of John Adams until the last marriage ceremony took place here—that was in 1889 (I seem to see you smile at the long space that intervenes)—the form used has been that of the Church of England. In the eighties the young people seemed to think that the chief end of man and woman, or rather of boy and girl, was marriage; and scarcely had they arrived at man’s and woman’s estate, certainly not to the estate of wisdom and prudence, when marriage was contracted. At present, and it gladdens my heart to see it, more efforts are made at getting some education than in getting married, and we have quite a company of young men and women who think more of getting what they can out of their schoolbooks than of being bound for life to one another.
I am not exactly posted as to the number of inhabitants here at present, but think that after the fourteen deaths that took place last year the population is about 136 only, the largest part being children under the age of sixteen.
It is quite universally accepted among people of the world outside our own little speck of earth that coined money is an almost unheard-of, unknown, and, of course, unused article among us, but such are not the real facts in the case. Our circumstances make it possible to exist, as far as the necessities of life are concerned, without the use of money, i. e., as far as food, fuel, water, and our houses are concerned, but for clothing we depend upon the product of our island, which we sell, when the opportunity offers, to a trader who calls here and brings us our supplies in that line. In addition to this, many friends have contributed from time to time very largely to our comfort in gifts of clothing and other things that we cannot procure here.
Our “standard of value” is the American dollar and the English pounds, shillings, and pence, on which no discount is made here, as we are English subjects. It would amuse you to see how many and various are the coins that pass through our hands, and whose value often puzzles us. As we are not in a position to obtain (except on occasions when we are visited by a British ship of war) more than a few cents at a time, in exchange for fruit and curios, we do not, as do Sabbath schools abroad, contribute every week, but the dimes, quarters, shillings and pence that may be obtained from passing ships are carefully hoarded for the quarterly donation.
We have a Sabbath school of 125 members, varying in age from two years to seventy-two; and happy the child, as well as the grown-up, who has an offering as large as a quarter to donate at the beginning of every quarter. We are glad at the thought of our little “mite” contributed towards the missionary ship Pitcairn, the first one to be built and used in the interests of the Seventh-day Adventists, and that our Sabbath school is self-supporting.
Our amusements consist, I may say, in a change of occupations. A peculiar way in which to amuse one’s self, you will think, but really our time is too fully occupied in so many different ways to have time or inclination even for amusements that are amusements merely. If the boys can have enough powder for their guns to boom away at their own sweet will, they ask for no greater pleasure, and one unwearying source of enjoyment for the young people here is to gather around an organ and spend the time in singing to the accompaniment of the instrument.
You ask if a photographer has ever come to our shores. Yes, many of them, and many views have been taken, not only of the varied scenery, but of the people, mostly in groups. Last March an American shipmaster, Captain Davis, was here and spent most of his time taking pictures. Among others, he took that of Miss Andre and her school, and of me and my bare-footed little boys and girls.
The gentleman and lady mentioned above, Mr. and Mrs. Gates, had been living with us for eighteen months, and last February, when they were leaving, I gave Mr. Gates a manuscript copy of a little work I had been writing, the facts connected with this island’s history from the time it was inhabited by the Bounty’s mutineers up to date. I did not confine myself to solid work, but only wrote at long intervals, so that what should have been finished within a short time was dragged out to a length of six years. Possibly some of the photographic views taken here will be used to illustrate the little work. It should be going through the press now, if not already gone, and will be brought out in book form—only a very simple, modest affair—at the Pacific Press, Oakland, Cal., where you may obtain a copy if you have enough interest in it to order one.
I have already written longer then I should have done, and fear my long letter will prove a tax to your patience, but your questions have been answered at some length, so I trust you will excuse my trespassing on your valuable time to read all this product of my pen.
I shall be pleased to have you write when you are so inclined, and also to learn when you get this letter.