While the priests are chanting round the corpse the attendants dig a shallow grave, into which it is thrown with little ceremony, and covered up with stones and earth. Fires are now lighted, and dogs and pigs are slaughtered and roasted, and these being placed on the altars, the Eatua is invited to partake of the feast prepared for him. When we left the spot, I shuddering with a horror I had never before felt, the provisions remained on the altars. Taro tells us that the priests, if angered with a person, avenge themselves by selecting him as a victim, and that for fear of offending them no one ventures to interfere. The priests have thus gained more real power than the chiefs themselves. They generally, however, select some of the poorer people as their victims.

We see arranged near the morai a pile of sixty skulls, and that of the youth just slain is now added to it. They appear but little changed by the air, and Taro says that they are those of victims who have all been offered up within the last few months. He tells us that whenever one of the chiefs is about to commence an undertaking, he selects some unhappy victim, who is forthwith slaughtered and sacrificed. We have undoubted evidence, too, that they often eat their enemies, and they do this without shame or compunction. We see many of the chiefs and warriors going about with human jawbones hanging as ornaments round their necks, and we learn that they are those of enemies slain in war.

Sick at heart I accompany my shipmates. “Friend Golding, what do you now say of these pleasant-mannered, happy islanders?” I ask.

“I knock under,” says he. “England is a better place; but there are thousands there who get on very well without religion, so I say religion has nothing to do with it.”

“Religion has everything to do with it,” I answer, in a somewhat hasty tone. “Religion influences those who have no religion themselves. The heathen world of old, with all its civilisation, was not one jot better than are these cannibals, equally given over to work all manner of uncleanness. If it were not for the true faith of some, influencing general opinion, many Englishmen would even yet be the same as these savages. I may say, as said a pious minister of whom I have read, if it were not for God’s grace, we ourselves should be as are these poor barbarians; we might well see ourselves in them.”

“A truce with your preaching, John Harvey. You would make us all out blacker than we are,” says Phineas, walking on quickly.

“That were a hard matter,” I say. “Be not offended, I include myself, remember. It is only as we see ourselves in Christ Jesus that we are otherwise than most black, guilty, and lost.”

“I understand you not, John,” he answers. “But you shall not force me to acknowledge that I am not better than these half-naked savages.”

“I did not say that; by God’s grace, or in His providence, there are great differences, but all are sinners in the sight of God’s holy law. But we will talk more of this another time.”

This island of Tahiti, or Otaheite, is the largest of a group known as the Society Islands. It is about fifty miles long, consisting of two peninsulas joined by a narrow isthmus. It contains a mountain rising twelve thousand feet above the level of the sea. The other islands of the group are mostly lofty. They are Eimeo, Huaheine, Ulitea, Bolabola, and others. They are volcanic, and mostly fertile in the extreme.