CHAPTER XIII.

THE FIJI ISLANDERS.

THE annexation of the Fiji Islands to the British empire lends to the practices

and beliefs of their inhabitants a peculiar interest, though to a great extent these
have been abandoned since the establishment of Christianity.

Their creed is undiluted polytheism; their pantheon is full of all kinds of gods,
differing in rank and power, and very widely represented on earth by some
animate or inanimate object. Each Fijian has a god of his own, under whose care
he supposes himself to be placed. They do not seem to have any religious
teaching; but they have a priesthood, and that priesthood has, of course, its
traditional formulas of worship. But nothing like regular worship, as Christians
understand the phrase, is accepted or observed, and the Fijian religion is really a
superstition, because its sole inspiring motive is fear. This motive the priests
carefully develope, making it the basis of their claims and the source of their
influence.

No man can gain access to the gods except through the priests; and the priests
insist upon liberal offerings. When the worshipper comes upon questions of
importance, the Soro or sacrifice consists of whales’ teeth and large quantities of
food. For matters of inferior moment, the god is content with a mat, a club, a
spear, or a tooth, or even young nuts coated with turmeric powder. On one
occasion, when the chief Tuikilakila solicited the help of the Somo-somo gods in
war, he built a large new temple to the war-god, and presented a quantity of
cooked food, numerous turtles, and whales’ teeth.

Part of the offering, or sogaria, is set apart for the god, and the rest forms a feast
to which everybody is invited. The god’s portion, as the reader will immediately
conclude, is eaten by the priest and old men, but to the younger members of the
community is strictly tapu.