god with the snare previously described, and infusing it into the child even prior
to its birth, that it might become a clever and desperate thief. Most parents,
however, were anxious that their children should become brave and renowned
warriors. This appears to have been the very summit of a heathen mother’s
ambition, and to secure it, numerous ceremonies were performed before the
child was born; and after its birth it was taken to the marae, and formally
dedicated to Oro. The spirit of the god was then caught, and imparted to the
infant, and the ceremony was completed by numerous offerings and prayers. At
New Zealand, stones were thrust down the throat of the babe, to give it a stony
heart, and make it a dauntless and desperate warrior.”
This dedication of the child to the sanguinary war-god points to a condition of
society in which life was verily and indeed a battle, and every one had to hold
his own by right of a strong arm and a reckless spirit. There was no room for the
feeble in such a system; they crawled aside to die; or were trampled to death in
the rush and press of the crowd. Civilisation has its victims; but assuredly they
are few in comparison to the thousands and tens of thousands destroyed by the
merciless tyranny of Heathenism. Civilisation does at least teach us our duties
towards our neighbours; while Savage Man had little sentiment of compassion or
affection for father or brother, daughter or wife.
The second class of objects regarded with religious veneration was Idols. In
every island and district these were different; but in every island and district they
abounded. Some were large, some small; some hideous in the extreme, others
were almost comely. No fixed pattern appears to have been before the idol-
makers; each man followed his own fancy.
The third object of worship was the Etu,—that is, some bird, fish, or reptile, in
which the natives believed that a spirit resided. This form of idolatry was more
in vogue in the Samoas than in any other island-group. Among the Samoans, the
objects regarded as etus were, indeed, almost innumerable, and frequently they
were of extraordinary triviality. It was not unusual to see a chief, in other matters
really intelligent, muttering his prayers to a fly, an ant, or a lizard, if such
chanced to crawl or alight in his presence.
“On one occasion,” says Mr. Williams, “a vessel from New South Wales
touched at the Samoas, the captain of which had on board a cockatoo that talked.
A chief was invited to the ship, and shortly after he entered the cabin the captain
began a colloquy with the bird. At this he was struck with amazement, trembled
exceedingly, and immediately sprang upon deck, leaped into the sea, and called