 as they went. No churlish old
curmudgeon could have been the owner of that grove of bread-fruit trees, or of
these gloriously yellow bunches of bananas.
    From what I have said, it will be perceived that there is a vast difference
between personal property and real estate in the valley of Typee. Some
individuals, of course, are more wealthy than others. For example, the
ridge-pole of Marheyo's house bends under the weight of many a huge packet of
tappa; his long couch is laid with mats placed one upon the other seven deep.
Outside, Tinor has ranged along in her bamboo cupboard - or whatever the place
may be called - a goodly array of calabashes and wooden trenchers. Now, the
house just beyond the grove, and next to Marheyo's, occupied by Ruaruga, is not
quite so well furnished. There are only three moderate-sized packages swinging
overhead; there are only two layers of mats beneath; and the calabashes and
trenchers are not so numerous, nor so tastefully stained and carved. But then,
Ruaruga has a house - not so pretty a one, to be sure - but just as commodious
as Marheyo's; and, I suppose, if he wished to vie with his neighbour's
establishment, he could do so with very little trouble. These, in short,
constitute the chief differences perceivable in the relative wealth of the
people in Typee.
    Civilisation does not engross all the virtues of humanity; she has not even
her full share of them. They flourish in greater abundance and attain greater
strength among many barbarous people. The hospitality of the wild Arab, the
courage of the North American Indian, and the faithful friendships of some of
the Polynesian nations, far surpass anything of a similar kind among the
polished communities of Europe. If truth and justice, and the better principles
of our nature, cannot exist unless enforced by the statute-book, how are we to
account for the social condition of the Typees? So pure and upright were they in
all the relations of life, that entering their valley, as I did, under the most
erroneous impressions of their character, I was soon led to exclaim in
amazement: »Are these the ferocious savages, the bloodthirsty cannibals of whom
I have heard such frightful tales! They deal more kindly with each other, and
are more humane, than many who study essays on virtue and benevolence, and who
repeat every night that beautiful prayer breathed first by the lips of the
divine and gentle Jesus.« I will frankly declare, that after passing a few weeks
in
