I woke in time to see a rosy sunrise over the sea, and walked alone along the coast till I found a delicious stream and a real “green-room” of leaves to dress in. Then we had breakfast on the shore (under palm-trees and broad-leaved plantains for a canopy), with the addition of yams and a fowl, brought by an admiring circle of villagers. And afterwards, according to invariable custom, “family” prayers before starting, as we also have at night, wherever we are,—sometimes on the deck, becalmed, in perfect moonlight, sometimes on the shore, oftenest in the house where we sleep; but in any case it is always interesting, were it only as a sight, when you see these very devout people, and remember how recently they were all cannibals. Even now we have adult baptisms at almost every island we come to. For though the people abjured heathenism _en masse_, and placed themselves under instruction, they are only baptised after careful individual training; in some cases not till they have been under tuition for four or five years. How well this system works you might infer could you see the crowd of earnest thoughtful-looking men and women who assemble at Holy Communion. Last Sunday the morning congregation was about 600, of whom 250 were communicants; and in the afternoon the service was repeated at a village three miles off, where there were about 100 more communicants. According to native custom, all the women sit on one side and the men on the other. The service is almost a literal translation from the English Prayer-Book (it is all Wesleyan here). The elements used are Fijian bread, generally of arrowroot and cocoa-nut, and for wine, the very weakest claret and water, it being illegal to give a drop of wine or spirits to any native—and the penalty is severe. It is a marvel whereat I never cease to wonder, to know what this whole race was, less than twenty years ago, and now to see what a fine race of kindly helpful people they are. I often think of this, when perhaps a dozen of them volunteer to escort me on any walk or scramble I plan, and of their own accord cut or trample my path through the tall reeds up the steepest hillside, and carefully help me over the innumerable streams, which are generally bridged by one slippery cocoa-nut stem. Of course my being with the missionary party accounts for their being all on the alert to be useful. Here, for instance, all the twenty native teachers of the island (we are now on Ngau), and as many more stewards, and a number of lay-preachers and female class-leaders, have assembled for their quarterly meeting, and the place is full of them. The result is an unusual crowd in the house, and a hideous amount of eating of yams and pig, in honour of this great occasion. It is all in the way of work, however; and, of course, to the people of these isles (where there is not one white resident) the mere pleasure of sitting staring at us, watching us eat and so forth, is a never-ending amusement.