But the sorrows of these simple and artless people are transient. Cook
justly observes, that what they feel they have never been taught either
to disguise or suppress; and having no habits of thinking, which
perpetually recall the past and anticipate the future, they are affected
by all the changes of the passing hour, and reflect the colour of the
time, however frequently it may vary. They grieve for the death of a
relation, and place the body on a stage erected on piles and covered
with a roof of thatch, for they never bury the dead, and never approach
one of these _morais_ without great solemnity; but theirs is no lasting
grief.

An old woman having died, Mr. Banks, whose pursuit was knowledge of
every kind, and to gain it made himself one of the people, requested he
might attend the ceremony and witness all the mysteries of the solemnity
of depositing the body in the morai. The request was complied with, but
on no other condition than his taking a part in it. This was just what
he wished. In the evening he repaired to the house of mourning, where he
was received by the daughter of the deceased and several others, among
whom was a boy about fourteen years old. One of the chiefs of the
district was the principal mourner, wearing a fantastical dress. Mr.
Banks was stripped entirely of his European clothes, and a small piece
of cloth was tied round his middle. His face and body were then smeared
with charcoal and water, as low as the shoulders, till they were as
black as those of a negro: the same operation was performed on the rest,
among whom were some women, who were reduced to a state as near to
nakedness as himself; the boy was blacked all over, after which the
procession set forward, the chief mourner having mumbled something like
a prayer over the body. It is the custom of the Indians to fly from
these processions with the utmost precipitation. On the present occasion