We had also a novel Christmas Eve, marked not by the bringing in of a cheery Yule log, but by multitudinous marriages; for one result of the murrain of measles which desolated the isles a few months ago is that a matrimonial fever has set in. The widows and widowers, instructed by their chiefs, have interpreted some expressions of the great white chief as a recommendation to seek mutual consolation, and the infection spreads among all classes of the community, old and young. So it happened that on reaching this place, Nirukuruku, three days ago, we found no less than forty couples, belonging to this and the neighbouring villages, all waiting to be married on the arrival of the missionary, preferring his good offices to those of Aquilla, the native minister, just as a damsel nearer home might deem the knot more satisfactorily tied by her bishop than by the village curate. I cannot say, however, that these weddings gained much in pomp of ceremonial by the arrival of the great man; for, knowing the amount of inquiry involved by each marriage, and how very slow a process this might prove, it was deemed necessary to begin at once, so as to dispose of as many as possible without loss of time. All belonging to the village were therefore invited to present themselves as soon as possible; so, just as we had finished supper (sitting on our mats, and by the light of one dim candle, in a lantern) all the couples arrived. Being dark, and the call so sudden, few of the women had thought it necessary to put on the short low-bodied article which acts the part of jacket, but were dressed just like the men, with only a short white kilt (_sulu_ they call it); and very difficult it was, in the dim light, to tell which were which, and to get them rightly paired, and arranged along one side of the room; for, as a matter of course, the bashful couple arrive and depart separately, and would rather place themselves beside any one in the room than their own intended! Altogether, it was a very curious scene. Near us sat the native minister’s wife and family, diligently sewing Christmas raiment, by the light of a wick and oil in an old sardine-box, with the coaxiest of large-eyed brown babies looking on admiringly. Beyond, a group of brown boatmen lay round the fire, which, as usual, blazed in a sunken corner of the floor—no chimney of course. Some houses have several such fireplaces, merely enclosed by logs of cocoa-palm; and it certainly is a marvel that fires are not more frequent, especially as the candles, which are only bits of blazing bamboo, are carried about in the most careless way over the mats; and these are laid over a deep layer of soft dry grass.