were not yet fully opened up to Europeans, must be modified by the
testimony of later writers, in particular with regard to the alleged
absence of temples and offerings; but in its broad outlines it holds
good, in so far as the Samoan ritual was honourably distinguished from
that of many other islands in the Pacific by its freedom from human
sacrifice and from the gross and licentious practices which prevailed in
other branches of the Polynesian race. The notion of the Rarotongans
that the Samoans were a godless people has proved to be totally
mistaken. On closer acquaintance it was found that they lived under the
influence of a host of imaginary deities who exercised their faith and
demanded their obedience. Among these deities the most numerous and
perhaps the most influential were the _aitu_, which were the gods of
individuals, of families, of towns or villages, and of districts.[71]
These gods were supposed to appear in some visible embodiment or
incarnation, and the particular thing, or class of things, in which his
god was in the habit of appearing, was to the Samoan an object of
veneration, and he took great care never to injure it or treat it with
contempt. In the great majority of cases the thing in which the deity
presented himself to his worshippers was a class of natural objects,
most commonly a species of animal, bird, or fish, less frequently a tree
or plant or an inanimate object, such as a stone, the rainbow, or a
meteor. One man, for example, saw his god in the eel, another in the
shark, another in the turtle, another in the owl, another in the lizard,
and so on throughout all the fish of the sea, the birds, the four-footed
beasts, and creeping things. In some of the shell-fish, such as the
limpets on the rocks, gods were supposed to be present. It was not
uncommon to see an intelligent chief muttering prayers to a fly, an ant,
or a lizard, which chanced to alight or crawl in his presence. A man
would eat freely of the incarnation of another man's god, but would most
scrupulously refrain from eating of the incarnation of his own
particular god, believing that death would be the consequence of such
sacrilege. The offended god was supposed to take up his abode in the
body of the impious eater and to generate there the very thing which he
had eaten, till it caused his death. For example, if a man, whose family
god was incarnate in the prickly sea-urchin (_Echinus_), were to eat of
a sea-urchin, it was believed that a prickly sea-urchin would grow in
his body and kill him. If his family god were incarnate in the turtle,
and he was rash enough to eat a turtle, the god would enter into him,
and his voice would be heard from within the sinner's body, saying, "I
am killing this man; he ate my incarnation." Occasionally, however, the
penalty exacted by the deity was less severe. If, for instance, a man's
god was in cockles, and he ate one of these shell-fish, a cockle would
grow on his nose; if he merely picked up a cockle on the shore and
walked away with it, the shell-fish would appear on some part of his
person. But in neither case, apparently, would the kindly cockle take
the life of the offender. It was not a bloodthirsty deity. Again, a man
whose god was in coco-nuts would never drink the refreshing beverage
which other people were free to extract from the nuts. But the
worshipper who shrank from eating or drinking his god in the shape, say,
of an octopus or of coco-nut water, would often look on with
indifference while other people partook of these his divinities. He
might pity their ignorance or envy their liberty, but he would not seek
to enlighten the one or to restrain the other.[72] Indeed this
indifference was sometimes carried to great lengths. For example, a man
whose god was incarnate in the turtle, though he would not himself dare
to partake of turtle, would have no scruple in helping a neighbour to
cut up and cook a turtle; but in doing so he took the precaution to tie
a bandage over his mouth to prevent an embryo turtle from slipping down
his throat and sealing his doom by growing up in his stomach.[73]
Sometimes the incarnate deity, out of consideration perhaps for the
weakness of the flesh, would limit his presence to a portion of an
animal, it might be the left wing of a pigeon, or the tail of a dog, or
the right leg of a pig.[74] The advantages of such a restriction to a
worshipper are obvious. A man, for instance, to whom it would have been
death to eat the right leg of a pig, might partake of a left leg of pork
with safety and even with gusto. And so with the rest of the divine
menagery.
[71] W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_
(London, 1866), pp. 106 _sqq._; T. H. Hood, _Notes of a Cruise
in H.M.S. "Fawn" in the Western Pacific_, p. 141; G. Turner,
_Samoa_, pp. 16 _sqq._; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 211, 215
_sqq._
[72] J. Williams, _Narrative of Missionary Enterprises
in the South Sea Islands_, p. 468; Ch. Wilkes, _Narrative of the
United States Exploring Expedition_, ii. 131 _sq._; T. H. Hood,
_Notes of a Cruise in H.M.S. "Fawn" in the Western Pacific_, p.
141; W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp. 106
_sqq._; Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur l'archipel de
Samoa," _Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870) p. 111; G.
Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 16 _sqq._, 40, 50 _sq._; J. B. Stair, _Old
Samoa_, pp. 211, 216 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and
Polynesians_, pp. 137, 218. The account of these deities given
by Dr. G. Turner is by far the fullest and best.
[73] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 67 _sq._
[74] W. T. Pritchard, _op. cit._ p. 107. Similarly some
people had pig's heart for their god, or the embodiment of their
god, and they scrupulously avoided eating pigs' hearts lest
pigs' hearts should grow in their bodies and so cause their
death. See G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 72.
However, even if the worst had happened, that is to say, if the deity
had been killed, cooked and eaten, the consequences were not necessarily
fatal to his worshippers; there were modes of redeeming the lives of the
sinners and of expiating their sin. Suppose, for example, that the god
of a household was the cuttle-fish, and that some visitor to the house
had, either in ignorance or in bravado, caught a cuttle-fish and cooked
it, or that a member of the family had been present where a cuttle-fish
was eaten, the family would meet in conclave to consult about the
sacrilege, and they would select one of their number, whether a man or a
woman, to go and lie down in a cold oven and be covered over with
leaves, just as in the process of baking, all to pretend that the person
was being offered up as a burnt sacrifice to avert the wrath of the
deity. While this solemn pretence was being enacted, the whole family
would engage in prayer, saying, "O bald-headed cuttle-fish, forgive what
has been done. It was all the work of a stranger." If they did not thus
abase themselves before the divine cuttle-fish, they believed that the
god would visit them and cause a cuttle-fish to grow internally in their
bodies and so be the death of some of them.[75] Similar modes of
appeasing the wrath of divine eels, mullets, stinging ray fish, turtles,
wild pigeons, and garden lizards were adopted with equal success.[76]
[75] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 31 _sq._
[76] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 38, 58, 59, 69 _sq._, 72.
Apparently the Samoans were even more concerned to defend their village
gods or district gods against injury and insult than to guard the
deities of simple individuals. We are told that all the inhabitants of a
district would thus unite for the protection of the local divinity.[77]
For example, it happened that in a village where the first native
Christian teachers settled one of them caught a sea-eel (_Muraena_) and
cooked it, and two of the village lads, who were their servants, ate
some of the eel for their supper. But the eel was the village god, and
when the villagers heard that the lads had eaten the god, they
administered a sound thrashing to the culprits, and dragged them off to
a cooking-house where they laid them down in the oven pit and covered
them with leaves in the usual way, as if the lads had been killed and
were now to be cooked as a peace-offering to avert the wrath of the
deity.[78] When John Williams had caused some Christian natives to kill
a large sea-snake and dry it on the rocks to be preserved as a specimen,
the heathen fishermen of the island at sight of it raised a most
terrific yell, and, seizing their clubs, rushed upon the Christian
natives, saying, "You have killed our god! You have killed our god!" It
was with difficulty that Mr. Williams restrained their violence on
condition that the reptile should be immediately carried back to the
boat from which the missionary had landed.[79] The island in which this
happened belonged to the Tongan group, but precisely the same incident
might have occurred in Samoa. In some parts of Upolu a goddess was
believed to be incarnate in bats, and if a neighbour chanced to kill one
of these creatures, the indignant worshippers of the bat might wage a
war to avenge the insult to their deity.[80] If people who had the
stinging ray fish for the incarnation of their god heard that their
neighbours had caught a fish of that sort, they would go and beg them to
give it up and not to cook it. A refusal to comply with the request
would be followed by a fight.[81]
[77] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 216 _sq._
[78] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 58.
[79] J. Williams, _op. cit._ p. 469.
[80] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 57.
[81] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 75.
Accordingly, when the Samoans were converted to Christianity, they gave
the strongest proof of the genuineness of their conversion by killing
and eating their animal gods. Thus when a chief named Malietoa renounced
heathenism, he caused an eel to be publicly caught, cooked, and eaten by
many persons who had hitherto regarded the eel as their god. His own
sons had a different sort of fish, called _anae_, for their private
deity, and to demonstrate their faith in the new religion they had a
quantity of the fish caught, cooked, and served up in the presence of a
large party of friends and relations. There, with trembling hearts, they
partook of the once sacred morsel; but, their fears getting the better
of them, they immediately retired from the feast and swallowed a
powerful emetic, lest the divine fish should lie heavy on their stomachs
and devour their vitals.[82] As nothing particular happened after these
daring innovations, the people took heart of grace, and concerted
further plans for the destruction of their ancient deities. Among these
was a certain Papo, who was nothing more or less than a piece of old
rotten matting, about three yards long and four inches wide; but being a
god of war and, in that capacity, always attached to the canoe of the
leader when they went forth to battle, he was regarded with great
veneration by the people. At the assembly convoked to decide on his
fate, the first proposal was to throw him into the fire. But the idea
was too shocking to the general sense of the community, and by way of
making death as little painful as possible to the deity, they decided to
take him out to sea in a canoe and there consign him to a watery grave.
Even from this mitigated doom Papo was rescued by the efforts of the
missionaries, and he now adorns a museum.[83]
[82] J. Williams, _op. cit._ pp. 373 _sq._
[83] J. Williams, _op. cit._ p. 375.
But even when the career of one of these animal gods was not prematurely
cut short by being killed, cooked, and eaten, he was still liable to die
in the course of nature; and when his dead body was discovered, great
was the sorrow of his worshippers. If, for example, the god of a village
was an owl, and a dead owl was found lying beside a road or under a
tree, it would be reverently covered up with a white cloth by the person
who discovered it, and all the villagers would assemble round the dead
god and burn their bodies with firebrands and beat their foreheads with
stones till the blood flowed. Then the corpse of the feathered deity
would be wrapped up and buried with as much care and ceremony as if it
were a human body. However, that was not the death of the god. He was
supposed to be yet alive and incarnate in all the owls in existence.[84]
[84] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 21, 26, 60 _sq._ Compare
W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp. 110 _sq._
The offerings to these deities consisted chiefly of cooked food,[85]
which was apparently deemed as essential to the sustenance of gods as of
men, and that even when the gods were not animals but stones. For
example, two oblong smooth stones, which stood on a platform of loose
stones near a village, were regarded as the parents of the rain-god, and
when the people were making ready to go off to the woods for the
favourite sport of pigeon-catching, they used to lay offerings of cooked
taro and fish on the stones, accompanied by prayers for fine weather and
no rain. These stone gods were also believed to cause yams to grow;
hence in time of dearth a man would present them with a yam in hope of
securing their favour.[86]
[85] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 20.
[86] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 24 _sq._
At the feasts the first cup of kava was dedicated to the god, the
presiding chief either pouring it out on the ground or waving it towards
the sky. Afterwards all the chiefs drank from the same cup according to
their rank; then the food brought as an offering was divided and eaten
there before the god.[87] Even within the circle of the family it was
customary to pour out on the ground a little kava as an offering to the
family god before any one else drank of it.[88]
[87] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 20; W. T. Pritchard,
_Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp. 121 _sqq._
[88] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 229.
Annual feasts were held in honour of the gods, and the season of the
feast was often in May, but sometimes in April or June.[89] In some
cases the feasts were regulated by the appearance of the bird which was
believed to be the incarnation of the god. Whenever the bird was seen,
the priest would say that the god had come, and he would fix upon a day
for the entertainment of the deity.[90] At these festivals all the
people met in the place of public assembly, where they had collected
heaps of cooked food. First, they made their offerings to the god and
prayed to him to avert calamity and grant prosperity; then they feasted
with and before their god, and after that any strangers present might
eat. Some of the festivals included games, such as wrestling,
spear-throwing, club exercises, sham-fights, and nocturnal dances; and
they lasted for days.[91] At one of these annual festivals held in the
month of June, the exercise with clubs assumed a serious and indeed
sanguinary form. All the people, old and young, men, women, and
children, took part in it, and battered their scalps till the blood
streamed down over their faces and bodies. This proof of their devotion
was supposed to be acceptable to the deity, who, gratified by the sight
of their flowing blood, would answer their prayers for health, good
crops, and victory in war.[92] At the feast of the cockle god in May
prayers were offered up to the divine shell-fish that he would be
pleased to cure the coughs and other ailments usually prevalent at that
season, which in Samoa forms the transition from the wet to the dry
months.[93] At the festival of an owl god, which fell about the month of
April, the offerings and prayers were particularly directed towards the
removal of caterpillars from the plantations; for these insects were
believed to be the servants of the owl god, who could send them as his
ministers of vengeance to lay waste the fields and orchards of the
impious.[94] Elsewhere the owl was a war god, and at the beginning of
the annual fish festivals the chiefs and people of the village assembled
round the opening of the first oven and gave the first fish to the
god.[95] A family, who had the eel for their household god, showed their
gratitude to him for his kindness by presenting him with the first
fruits of their taro plantation.[96] Another family believed their deity
to be incarnate in centipedes; and if a member of the family fell ill or
was bitten by a centipede, they would offer the divine reptile a fine
mat and a fan, with a prayer for the recovery of the patient.[97] The
utility of a fine mat and a fan to a centipede is too obvious to be
insisted on. Sometimes offerings were made to a god, not to persuade him
to come, but to induce him to go away. For example, where gods or
spirits were believed to voyage along the coast, offerings of food were
often set down on the beach as an inducement to the spirits to take the
victuals and pass on without calling at that particular place.[98]
[89] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 20, 26, 29, 41, 44, 47,
53, 57.
[90] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 20 _sq._
[91] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 20, 26, 29; W. T.
Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, p. 123.
[92] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 57.
[93] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 41.
[94] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 47.
[95] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 25 _sq._
[96] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 70 _sq._
[97] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 47 _sq._
[98] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 229.
Formal prayers were offered to the god by the head of a family, and
public prayer was put up when the men were setting out for war. On such
occasions they prayed that stones, stumps of trees, and other obstacles
might be taken out of the way of the warriors, and that their path might
be wet with the blood of their foes. All their prayers were for temporal
benefits, such as protection against enemies, plenty of food, and other
desirable objects. They attached great importance to confession of
wrongdoing in times of danger, but, so far as appears, they expressed no
repentance, promised no amendment, and offered no prayer for
forgiveness. If, for example, a canoe, crossing the channel between
Savaii and Upolu, were caught in a squall and seemed likely to be
swamped, the steersman would head the canoe to the wind, and every man
on board would make a clean breast of his sins. One would say, "I stole
a fowl at such and such a village." Another would confess an intrigue
with a married woman somewhere else; and so on. When all had either
confessed their guilt or declared their innocence, the helmsman would
put the helm about and scud before the wind, in perfect confidence of
bringing the canoe and crew safe to land.[99]
[99] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 229
_sq._
When a god was believed to be incarnate in a species of birds or animals
or fish, omens were naturally drawn from the appearance and behaviour of
the creatures. This happened particularly in time of war, when hopes and
fears were rife among the people. Thus, if their war god was an owl,
and the bird fluttered above the troops on the march, the omen was good;
but if the owl flew away in the direction of the enemy, it was an evil
omen, the god had deserted them and joined the foe;[100] if it crossed
the path of the warriors or flew back on them, it was a warning to
retreat.[101] So in places where the war-god was a rail-bird, if the
bird screeched and flew before the army, the people marched confidently
to battle; but if it turned and flew back, they hesitated. If the
plumage of the rail showed glossy red, it was a sign to go to war; but
if the feathers were dark and dingy, it was a warning to stay at home.
And if the bird were heard chattering or scolding, as they called it, at
midnight, it prognosticated an attack next day, and they would at once
send off the women and children to a place of safety.[102] In like
manner omens were drawn from the flight of herons, kingfishers, the
_Porphyris Samoensis_, and flying-foxes, where these creatures were
supposed to incarnate the war god.[103] People who saw their war god in
the lizard used to take omens from a lizard before they went forth to
fight. They watched the movements of a lizard in a bundle of spears. If
the creature ran about the outside of the bundle and the points of the
spears, the omen was favourable; but if it crept into the bundle for
concealment, it was an evil sign.[104] The inhabitants of several
villages looked upon dogs, especially white dogs, as the incarnation of
their war god; accordingly if the dog wagged his tail, barked, and
dashed ahead in sight of the enemy, it was a good omen; but if he
retreated or howled, their hearts failed them.[105] Again, where the
cuttle-fish was the war god, the movements of that fish at sea were
anxiously observed in time of war. If the fish swam inshore while the
people were mustering for battle, it augured victory; but if it swam far
away, it portended defeat.[106]
[100] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 25 _sq._
[101] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 60.
[102] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 52, 61, 65.
[103] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 35, 51, 54 _sq._, 64.
[104] G. Turner, pp. 46 _sq._
[105] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 49.
[106] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 29.
When a god was supposed to dwell in some inanimate object, the art of
divination was similarly employed to elicit a knowledge of the future
from an observation of the object, whatever it might be. In several
villages, for example, the people viewed a rainbow as the representative
of their war god. If, when they were going to battle by land or sea, a
rainbow appeared in the sky right in front of them, with the arch, as it
were, straddling across the line of march or the course that the fleet
was steering, it was a warning to turn back. But if the bow shone on the
right or left of the army or of the fleet, it meant that the god was
marching with them, and cheering on the advance.[107] Another village
revered its god in the lightning. When lightning flashed frequently in
time of war, it was believed that the god had come to help and direct
his people. A constant play of lightning over a particular spot was a
warning that the enemy was lurking there in ambush. A rapid succession
of flashes in front meant that the foe was being driven back; but if the
lightning flashed from front to rear, it was a signal to retreat.[108]
In one large village the war god resided in two teeth of the sperm
whale, which were kept in a cave and observed by a priest in time of
war. If the teeth were found lying east and west, it was a good omen;
but if they lay north and south, it prognosticated defeat.[109] In
another place the war god was present in a bundle of shark's teeth, and
the people consulted the bundle before they went out to fight. If the
bundle felt heavy, it foreboded ill; but if it was light, it was an omen
of victory, and the troops marched with hearts correspondingly
light.[110]
[107] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 35; compare p. 43.
[108] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 59 _sq._
[109] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 35.
[110] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 55.
When the god was incarnate in a live creature, it was an obvious
advantage to ensure his constant presence and blessing by owning a
specimen of his incarnation and feeding it. Hence some folk kept a tame
god on their premises. For instance, some people possessed a war god in
the shape of a pet owl;[111] others had a divine pigeon, which was
carefully kept and fed by the different members of the family in
turn.[112] Yet others were so fortunate as to capture the thunder god
and to keep him in durance, which effectually prevented him from doing
mischief. Having caught him, they tied him up with pandanus leaves and
frightened him by poking firebrands at him. And lest, as an old
offender, he should attempt to break prison and relapse into his former
career of crime, they filled a basket with pandanus leaves and charred
firebrands and hung it up on a tree _in terrorem_, to signify what he
might expect to get if he took it into his head to strike houses
again.[113]
[111] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 25 _sq._
[112] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 64.
[113] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 34.
Vegetable gods were much less plentiful than animal gods in Samoa. Still
they occurred. Thus, the god of one family lived in a large tree
(_Hernandia peltata_); hence no member of the family dared to pluck a
leaf or break a branch of that tree.[114] The household deity of another
family dwelt in a tree of a different sort (_Conanga odorata_), which
has yellow and sweet-scented flowers.[115] In Savaii the special abode
of a village god called Tuifiti or "King of Fiji" was a grove of large
and durable trees (_Afzelia bijuga_). No one dared to cut that timber.
It is said that a party of natives from another island once tried to
fell one of these trees; but blood flowed from the trunk, and all the
sacrilegious strangers fell ill and died.[116] One family saw their god
in the moon. On the appearance of the new moon all the members of the
family called out, "Child of the moon, you have come." They assembled
also, presented offerings of food, feasted together, and joined in
praying, "Oh, child of the moon! Keep far away disease and death." And
they also prayed to the moon before they set out on the war path.[117]
But in Samoa, as in Tonga, there seems to be no record of a worship of
the sun, unless the stories of human sacrifices formerly offered to the
great luminary be regarded as reminiscences of sun-worship.[118]
[114] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 72.
[115] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 71.
[116] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 63.
[117] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 67.
[118] See above, p. 158.
Sec. 7. _Priests and Temples_
The father of a family acted as the priest of the household god. He
usually offered a short prayer at the evening meal, begging the deity to
guard them all from war, sickness, death, and the payment of fines.
Sometimes he would direct the family to hold a feast in honour of their
god, and on these occasions a cup of kava was poured out as a libation
to the divinity. Such simple domestic rites were celebrated in the
house, where the whole family assembled; for the gods were believed to
be present with men in a spiritual and invisible form as well as in the
material objects which were regarded as their visible embodiments. Often
the deity spoke through the father or other members of the family,
telling them what to do in order to remove a present evil or avert a
threatened one.[119]
[119] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 18. For the offering of
kava to the household god, compare _id._ p. 51.
But while every head of a family might thus act as a domestic priest and
mouthpiece of the deity, there was also a professional class of priests
set apart for the public worship of the gods, particularly of the war
gods, who in their nature did not differ essentially from the gods of
families, of villages, and of districts, being commonly embodied either
in particular material objects or in classes of such objects, especially
in various species of birds, animals, and fish, such as owls, rails,
kingfishers, dogs, lizards, flying-foxes, and cuttle-fish. Sometimes the
ruling chiefs acted as priests; but in general some one man in a
particular family claimed the dignity of the priesthood and professed to
declare the will of the god. His office was hereditary. He fixed the
days for the annual feasts in honour of the deity, received the
offerings, and thanked the people for them. He decided also whether the
people might go to war.[120] The priests possessed great authority over
the minds of the people, and they often availed themselves of their
influence to amass wealth.[121] The gods were supposed from time to time
to take possession of the priests and to speak through their mouths,
answering enquiries and issuing commands. Thus consulted as an oracle
the priest, or the god through him, might complain that the people had
been slack in making offerings of food and property, and he would
threaten them with vengeance if they did not speedily bring an ample
supply to the human representative of the deity. At other times the god
required a whole family to assemble and build him a large canoe or a
house, and such a command was always obeyed with alacrity and a humble
apology tendered for past neglect. The priests were also consulted
oracularly for the healing of the sick, the recovery of stolen property,
and the cursing of enemies. Thus they kept the people in constant fear
by their threats and impoverished them by their exactions.[122]
[120] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 20. For a full account of
the priesthood, see J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 220 _sqq._ As
to the Samoan war-gods, see G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 23, 25
_sq._, 27 _sq._, 28, 32, 33, 35, 42, 46 _sq._, 48, 49, 51, 52,
54 _sq._, 55, 57, 60, 61, 64, 65; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp.
215 _sq._
[121] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 70, 222 _sq._, 225;
G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 228, 246 _sq._
[122] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 223-225; G. Brown,
_Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 246 _sq._
The outward signs of divine inspiration or possession were such as
priests or prophets have manifested in many lands and ages as conclusive
evidence of their being the vehicles of higher powers. The approach or
presence of the god was indicated by the priest beginning to gape, yawn,
and clear his throat; but soon his countenance changed, his body
underwent violent contortions, and in loud, unearthly tones, which the
trembling and awe-stricken hearers interpreted as the voice of an
indwelling deity, he delivered his message of exhortation or warning, of
menace, or comfort, or hope.[123]
[123] J. B. Stair, p. 223; G. Brown, _Melanesians and
Polynesians_, pp. 228, 246 _sq._
Spirit-houses (_fale-aitu_) or temples were erected for some, but not
all, of the class of deities (_aitu_) which we are now considering. It
was chiefly the war gods who were thus honoured. Such temples were built
with the same materials and in the same style as the houses of men, with
nothing to distinguish them from ordinary dwellings, except that they
almost always stood on platforms of stones, which varied in height and
size with the respect felt for the particular deity. They were usually
situated on the principal public place or green (_malae_) of the village
and surrounded by a low fence. Sometimes they were mere huts; yet being
viewed as the abode of gods they were held sacred and regarded with
great veneration by the Samoans in the olden time. Whatever emblems of
deity were in possession of the village were always placed in these
houses under the watchful care of keepers.[124] In one temple, for
instance, might be seen a conch shell hung from the roof in a basket.
This shell the god was supposed to blow when he wished the people to go
to war. In another a cup made of the shell of a coco-nut was suspended
from the roof, and before it prayers were uttered and offerings
presented. The cup was also used in an ordeal for the detection of
theft. In a trial before chiefs the cup would be sent for, and each of
the suspected culprits would lay his hand on it and say, "With my hand
on this cup, may the god look upon me, and send swift destruction, if I
took the thing which has been stolen." They firmly believed that it
would be death to touch the cup and tell a lie.[125]
[124] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 226-228.
[125] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 19.
The temples were always built by the united exertions of a whole family,
village, or district.[126] For example, when the inhabitants of a
village whose god was the cuttle-fish erected a new temple to that
deity, every man, woman, and child in the village contributed something
to it, if it was only a stick or a reed of thatch. While some of the
villagers were drafted off to put up the house, the rest engaged in a
free fight, which appears to have been considered as a necessary part of
the proceedings. On this occasion many old scores were settled, and he
who got most wounds was believed to have earned the special favour of
the deity. With the completion of the temple the fighting ended, and
ought not to be renewed for a year, till the anniversary of the building
of the temple came round, when the worshippers were again at liberty to
break each other's heads in honour of the divine cuttle-fish.[127]
[126] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 227 _sq._
[127] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 29 _sq._
At one place in Savaii there was a temple in which a priest constantly
resided. The sick used to be carried to him in the temple and there laid
down with offerings of fine mats. Thereupon the priest stroked the
diseased part, and the patient was supposed to recover.[128] We hear of
another temple in which fine mats were brought as offerings to the
priests and stored up in large numbers among the temple treasures. Thus
in time the temples might have amassed a considerable degree of wealth
and might even, if economic progress had not been arrested by European
intervention, have developed into banks. However, when the people were
converted to Christianity, they destroyed this particular temple and
dissipated the accumulated treasures in a single feast by way of
celebrating their adhesion to the new faith.[129] Where the bat was the
local deity, many bats used to flock about the temple in time of
war.[130] Where the kingfisher received the homage of the people as the
god of war, the old men of the village were wont to enter his temple in
times of public emergency and address the kingfisher; and people outside
could hear the bird replying, though, singularly enough, his voice was
that of a man, and not that of a bird. But as usual the god was
invisible.[131] In one place a temple of the great god Tangaloa was
called "the House of the Gods," and it was carefully shut up all round,
the people thinking that, if this precaution were not taken, the gods
would get out and in too easily and be all the more destructive.[132]
Such a temple might be considered rather as a prison than a house of the
gods.
[128] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 49.
[129] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 55.
[130] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 56 _sq._
[131] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 54 _sq._
[132] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 53.
To the rule that Samoan temples were built of the same perishable
materials as ordinary houses a single exception is known. About ten
miles inland from the harbour of Apia, in the island of Upolu, are the
ruins of a temple, of which the central and side posts and the rafters
were all constructed of stone. The ground plan seems to have resembled
that of an ordinary Samoan house of the best style, forming an ellipse
which measured fifty feet in one direction by forty feet in the other.
Two central pillars appear to have supported the roof, each fashioned of
a single block of stone some thirteen feet high, twelve inches thick one
way and nine inches the other. The rafters were in lengths of twelve
feet and six feet, by four inches square. Of the outside pillars, which
upheld the lower edge of the sloping roof, eighteen were seen standing
by Pritchard, who has described the ruins. Each pillar stood three feet
high and measured nine inches thick in one way by six inches in the
other. Each had a notch or shoulder on the inner side for supporting the
roof. Pillars and rafters were quarried from an adjoining bluff, distant
only some fifty yards from the ruins. Some squared stones lying at the
foot of the bluff seem to show that the temple was never completed. The
site of the ruins is a flat about three acres in area. The natives call
the ruins _Fale-o-le-Fe'e_, that is, the House of the Fe'e. This Fe'e
was a famous war god of A'ana and Faleata, two native towns of Upolu; he
was commonly incarnated in the cuttle-fish. As the Samoans were
unacquainted with the art of cutting stones, and had no tools suitable
for the work, they thought that this temple, with its columns and
rafters of squared stone, must have been built by the gods, and they
explained its unfinished state by alleging that the divine builders had
quarrelled among themselves before they had brought the work to
completion.[133]
[133] W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp.
119-121; Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur l'archipel de
Samoa," _Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870) p. 112; G.
Turner, _Samoa_, p. 31; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, p. 228; G.
Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 220.
For the sake of completeness I will mention another stone monument, of
more imposing dimensions, which has been discovered in Samoa, though its
origin and meaning are unknown. It stands on a tableland in the high
mountainous interior of Upolu and appears to be not altogether easy of
access. The discoverer, Mr. H. B. Sterndale, reached it by clambering up
from what he describes as a broad and dangerous ravine. In making his
way to the tableland he passed through a gap which from a distance he
had supposed to be a natural fissure in the rocks; but on arriving at it
he discovered, to his surprise, that the gap was in fact a great fosse
formed by the hand of man, being excavated in some places and built up
at others, while on one side, next to the rise of the hill, it was
further heightened by a parapet wall. When, passing through the fosse,
he issued upon the tableland, which is a level space of some twenty
acres in extent, he perceived the monument, "a truncated conical
structure or _Heidenmauer_ of such huge dimensions as must have required
the labour of a great multitude to construct. So little did I expect,"
he says, "in this neighbourhood to meet with any example of human
architecture, and so rudely monstrous was the appearance of this
cyclopean building, that from its peculiar form, and from the vegetation
with which it was overgrown, I might have passed it by, supposing it to
have been a volcanic hillock, had not my attention been attracted by the
stonework of the fosse. I hastened to ascend it. It was about twenty
feet high by one hundred in diameter. It was circular with straight
[perpendicular?] sides; the lower tiers of stone were very large, they
were lava blocks, some of which would weigh at least a ton, which must
have been rolled or moved on skids to their present places. They were
laid in courses; and in two places near the top seemed to have been
entrances to the inside, as in one appeared a low cave choked with rocks
and tree roots. If there had been chambers within, they were probably
narrow and still existing, as there was no sign of depression on the
crown of the work, which was flat and covered with flat stones, among
which grew both trees and shrubs. It is likely that it was not in itself
intended as a place of defence, but rather as a base or platform upon
which some building of importance, perhaps of timber, had been erected,
no doubt in the centre of a village, as many foundations of a few feet
high were near it. The fosse, when unbroken, and its inner wall entire,
was probably crossed by a foot-bridge, to be withdrawn on the approach
of an enemy; and the little gap, by which I had entered, closed, so that
this must have been a place of great security. The Samoan natives, as
far as I have been able to learn, have no tradition of what people
inhabited this mountain fastness."[134]
[134] H. B. Sterndale, quoted by R. A. Sterndale,
"Asiatic Architecture in Polynesia," _The Asiatic Quarterly
Review_, x. (July-October 1890) pp. 347-350. The writer of this
article reports the discoveries of his brother, Mr. Handley
Bathurst Sterndale.
On an adjoining tableland, approached by a steep and narrow ridge, Mr.
Sterndale saw a great number of cairns of stone, apparently graves,
disposed in rows among huge trees, the roots of which had overturned and
destroyed very many of the cairns. Here, within the numerous trunks of a
great spreading banyan tree, Mr. Sterndale found what he calls an inner
chamber, or cell, about ten feet square, the floor being paved with flat
stones and the walls built of enormous blocks of the same material,
while the roof was composed of the twisted trunks of the banyan tree,
which had grown into a solid arch and, festooned by creepers, excluded
even the faint glimmer of twilight that dimly illuminated the
surrounding forest. Disturbed by a light which the traveller struck to
explore the gloomy interior, bats fluttered about his head. In the
centre of the chamber he discovered a cairn, or rather cromlech, about
four feet high, which was formed of several stones arranged in a
triangle, with a great flat slab on the top. On the flat slab lay a
large conch shell, white with age, and encrusted with moss and dead
animalculae. The chamber or cell, enclosed by the trunks of the
banyan-tree, might have been inaccessible, if it were not that, under
the pressure of the tree-trunks, several of the great slabs composing
the wall had been displaced, leaving a passage.[135]
[135] H. B. Sterndale, _op. cit._ pp. 351 _sq._
What were these remarkable monuments? Mr. Sterndale believed the stone
chamber to be the tomb of some man of authority in ancient days, the
antiquity of the structure being vouched for by the great banyan-tree
which had so completely overgrown it. This view is likely enough, and is
confirmed by the large number of cairns about it, which appear to be
sepulchral. But what was the massive circular monument or platform,
built of huge blocks of lava laid in tiers? From Mr. Sterndale's
description it would seem that the structure closely resembled the tombs
of the sacred kings of Tonga, though these tombs are oblong instead of
circular. But they often supported a house or hut of wood and thatch;
and Mr. Sterndale may well be right in supposing that the circular
Samoan monument in like manner served as a platform to support a wooden
building. In this connexion we must not forget that the typical Samoan
house was circular or oval in contrast to the typical Tongan house,
which was oblong. The openings, which seemed to lead into the interior
of the monument, may have given access to the sepulchral chamber where
the bodies of the dead were deposited.
Slight as are these indications, they apparently point to the use of the
monument as a tomb. There is nothing, except perhaps its circular shape,
to suggest that it was a temple of the sun. As no such stone buildings
have been erected by the Samoans during the time they have been under
European observation, it may be, as Mr. Sterndale supposed, that all the
ruins described by him were the work of a people who inhabited the
islands before the arrival of the existing race.[136]
[136] H. B. Sterndale, _op. cit._ p. 352.
Sec. 8. _Origin of the Samoan Gods of Families, Villages, and Districts:
Relation to Totemism_
If we ask, What was the origin of the peculiar Samoan worship of animals
and other natural objects? the most probable answer seems to be that it
has been developed out of totemism. The system is not simple totemism,
for in totemism the animals, plants, and other natural objects are not
worshipped, that is, they do not receive offerings nor are approached
with prayers; in short, they are not gods, but are regarded as the
kinsfolk of the men and women who have them for totems. Further, the
local distribution of the revered objects in Samoa, according to
villages and districts, differs from the characteristic distribution of
totems, which is not by place but by social groups or clans, the members
of which are usually more or less intermixed with each other in every
district. It is true that in Samoa we hear of family or household gods
as well as of gods of villages and districts, and these family gods, in
so far as they consist of species of animals and plants which the
worshippers are forbidden to kill or eat, present a close analogy to
totems. But it is to be observed that these family gods were, so to say,
in a state of unstable equilibrium, it being always uncertain whether a
man would inherit his father's or his mother's god or would be assigned
a god differing from both of them. This uncertainty arose from the
manner of determining a man's god at birth. When a woman was in travail,
the help of several gods was invoked, one after the other, to assist the
birth; and the god who happened to be invoked at the moment when the
child saw the light, was his god for life. As a rule, the god of the
father's family was prayed to first; so that generally, perhaps, a man
inherited the god of his father. But if the birth was tedious and
difficult, the god of the mother's family was next invoked. When the
child was born, the mother would call out, "To whom were you praying?"
and the god prayed to just before was carefully remembered, and his
incarnation duly acknowledged throughout the future life of the
child.[137] Such a mode of selecting a divine patron is totally
different from the mode whereby, under pure totemism, a person obtains
his totem; for his totem is automatically determined for him at birth,
being, in the vast majority of cases, inherited either from his father
or from his mother, without any possibility of variation or selection.
Lastly, the Samoan system differs from most, though not all, systems of
totemism, in that it is quite independent of exogamy; in other words,
there is no rule forbidding people who revere the same god to marry each
other.
[137] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 17, 78 _sq._
Thus, while the Samoan worship of certain classes of natural objects,
especially species of animals, is certainly not pure totemism, it
presents points of analogy to that system, and might easily, we may
suppose, have been developed out of it, the feeling of kinship for
totemic animals and plants having been slowly transformed and sublimated
into a religious reverence for the creatures and a belief in their
divinity; while at the same time the clans, which were originally
intermixed, gradually sorted out from each other and settled down in
separate villages and districts. This gradual segregation of the clans
may have been facilitated by a change from maternal to paternal descent
of the totem; for when a man transmits his totem to his offspring, his
descendants in the male line tend naturally to expand into a local group
in which the totem remains constant from generation to generation
instead of alternating with each successive generation, as necessarily
happens when a man's children take their totem not from him but from
their mother. That the Samoan worship of _aitu_ was developed in some
such way out of simple totemism appears to have been the view of Dr.
George Brown, one of our best authorities on Samoan society and
religion; for he speaks without reserve of the revered objects as
totems.[138] A similar derivation of the Samoan _aitu_ was favoured by
Dr. Rivers, who, during a visit to Samoa, found some evidence
confirmatory of this conclusion.[139]
[138] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 137,
218, 334.
[139] W. H. R. Rivers, "Totemism in Polynesia and
Melanesia," _Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute_,
xxxix. (1909) pp. 159 _sq._
Sec. 9. _The High Gods of Samoa_
But besides these totemic gods of Samoa, as we may term them, which were
restricted in the circle of their worshippers to particular families,
villages, or districts, there were certain superior deities who were
worshipped by all the people in common and might accordingly be called
the national divinities of Samoa; indeed the worship of some of them was
not confined to Samoa, but was shared by the inhabitants of other groups
of islands in Polynesia. These high gods were considered the progenitors
of the inferior deities, and were believed to have formed the earth and
its inhabitants. They themselves dwelt in heaven, in the sea, on the
earth, or under the earth; but they were invisible and did not appear to
their worshippers in the form of animals or plants. They had no temples
and no priests, and were not invoked like their descendants.[140]
[140] W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp.
111 _sq._; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 211 _sq._
Among these high gods the chief was Tangaloa, or, as he was sometimes
called, Tangaloa-langi, that is, Tangaloa of the Skies. He was always
spoken of as the principal god, the creator of the world and progenitor
of the other gods and of mankind.[141] It is said that after existing
somewhere in space he made the heavens as an abode for himself, and that
wishing to have also a place under the heavens he created this lower
world (_Lalolangi_, that is, "Under the heavens"). According to one
account, he formed the islands of Savaii and Upolu by rolling down two
stones from the sky; but according to another story he fished them up
from the depths of the sea on a fishing-hook. Next he made the _Fee_ or
cuttle-fish, and told it to go down under the earth; hence the lower
regions of sea or land are called _Sa he fee_ or "sacred to the
cuttle-fish." In its turn the cuttle-fish brought forth all kinds of
rocks, including the great one on which we live.[142] Another myth
relates how Tangaloa sent down his son or daughter in the likeness of a
bird called _turi_, a species of plover or snipe (_Charadrius fulvus_).
She flew about, but could find no resting-place, for as yet there was
nothing but ocean; the earth had not been created or raised above the
sea. So she returned to her father in heaven and reported her fruitless
search; and at last he gave her some earth and a creeping plant. These
she took down with her on her next visit to earth; and after a time the
leaves of the plant withered and produced swarms of worms or maggots,
which gradually developed into men and women. The plant which thus by
its corruption gave birth to the human species was the convolvulus.
According to another version of the myth, it was in reply to the
complaint of his daughter or son that the sky-god Tangaloa fished up the
first islands from the bottom of the sea.[143]
[141] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, p. 212.
[142] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 7.
[143] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 7 _sq._; J. B. Stair,
_Old Samoa_, pp. 212-214. The bird _turi_ or _tuli_ is spoken of
by Turner as the daughter, but by Stair as the son, of Tangaloa.
According to Turner, the bird is a species of snipe; according
to Stair, a species of plover. As to Tangaloa and the stories
told about him, compare John Williams, _Narrative of Missionary
Enterprises in the South Sea Islands_, pp. 469 _sq._; H. Hale,
_Ethnography and Philology of the United States Exploring
Expedition_, p. 22; Violette, "Notes d'un Missionnaire sur
l'archipel de Samoa," _Les Missions Catholiques_, iii. (1870)
pp. 111 _sq._; E. Tregear, _Maori-Polynesian Comparative
Dictionary_, p. 463, _s.v._ "Tangaroa."
Another of the national gods of Samoa was Mafuie, who was supposed to
dwell in the subterranean regions and to cause earthquakes by shaking
the pillar on which the earth reposes. In a tussle with the hero
Ti'iti'i, who descended to the lower world to rob Mafuie of his fire,
the earthquake god lost one of his arms, and the Samoans considered this
as a very fortunate circumstance; for otherwise they said that, if
Mafuie had had two arms, he would have shaken the world to pieces.[144]
It is said that during a shock of earthquake the natives used to rush
from their houses, throw themselves upon the ground, gnaw the grass, and
shriek in the most frantic manner to Mafuie to desist, lest he should
shake the earth to bits.[145]
[144] Ch. Wilkes, _Narrative of the United States
Exploring Expedition_, ii. 131; W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian
Reminiscences_, pp. 112, 114 _sqq._; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp.
209-211; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 238 _sq._
[145] J. Williams, _op. cit._ p. 379.
It seems to be doubtful whether among the Samoan gods are to be numbered
the souls of deceased ancestors. Certainly the evidence for the practice
of a worship of the dead is far less full and clear in Samoa than in
Tonga. On this subject Dr. George Brown writes as follows: "Traces of
ancestor worship are few and indistinct. The word _tupua_ is supposed by
some to mean the deified spirits of chiefs, and to mean that they
constituted a separate order from the _atua_, who were the original
gods. The word itself is the name of a stone, supposed to be a petrified
man, and is also generally used as the name of any image having some
sacred significance, and as representing the body into which the deified
spirit was changed. What appears certain is that ancestor worship had
amongst the Samoans gradually given place to the worship of a superior
order of supernatural beings not immediately connected with men, but
having many human passions and modes of action and life. There are,
however, some cases which seem to point to ancestor worship in olden
days, as in the case of the town of Matautu, which is said to have been
settled by a colony from Fiji. Their principal deity was called Tuifiti,
the King of Fiji. He was considered to be the head of that family, and a
grove of trees, _ifilele_ (the green-heart of India), was sacred to him
and could not be cut or injured in any way."[146] This god was supposed
to be incarnate in a man who walked about, but he was never visible to
the people of the place, though curiously enough he could be seen by
strangers.[147]
[146] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 223.
See also above, p. 192.
[147] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 62 _sq._ The town or
village of Matautu is in the island of Savaii. According to G.
Turner, the sacred tree of Tuifiti was the _Afzelia bijuga_.
However, another experienced missionary, J. B. Stair, who knew Samoa a
good many years before Dr. Brown arrived in it, speaks apparently
without hesitation of the _tupua_ as being "the deified spirits of
chiefs, who were also supposed to dwell in Pulotu," where they became
posts in the house or temple of the gods. Many beautiful emblems, he
says, were chosen to represent the immortality of these deified spirits;
among them were some of the heavenly bodies, including the Pleiades and
the planet Jupiter, also the rainbow, the marine rainbow, and many
more. He adds that the embalmed bodies of some chiefs were worshipped
under the significant title of "sun-dried gods"; and that people prayed
and poured libations of kava at the graves of deceased relatives.[148]
[148] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 210 _sq._, 215.
Sec. 10. _The Samoan Belief concerning the Human Soul: Funeral Customs_
Whether the Samoans practised the worship of the dead in a developed
form or not, they certainly possessed the elements out of which the
worship might under favourable circumstances be evolved. These elements
are a belief in the survival of the human soul after death, and a fear
of disembodied spirits or ghosts.
The Samoans believed that every man is animated by a soul, which departs
from the body temporarily in faints and dreams and permanently at death.
The soul of the dreamer, they thought, really visited the places which
he saw in his dream. At death it departed to the subterranean world of
the dead which the Samoans called Pulotu, a name which clearly differs
only dialectically from the Tongan Bolotoo or Bulotu. Some people
professed to see the parting soul when it had quitted its mortal body
and was about to take flight to the nether region. It was always of the
same shape as the body. Such apparitions at the moment of death were
much dreaded, and people tried to drive them away by shouting and firing
guns. The word for soul is _anganga_, which is a reduplicated form of
_anga_, a verb meaning "to go" or "to come." Thus apparently the Samoans
did not, like many people, identify the soul with the shadow; for in
Samoan the word for shadow is _ata_.[149]
[149] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 8, 16; J. B. Stair, _Old
Samoa_, p. 220; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 218
_sq._; E. Tregear, _Maori-Polynesian Comparative Dictionary_, p.
26, _s.v._ "Ata."
However, they seem to have in a dim way associated a man's soul with his
shadow. This appears from a remarkable custom which they observed in the
case of the unburied dead. The Samoans were much concerned for the lot
of these unfortunates and stood in great dread of their ghosts. They
believed that the spirits of those who had not received the rites of
burial wandered about wretched and forlorn and haunted their relatives
everywhere by day and night, crying in doleful tones, "Oh, how cold! oh,
how cold!" Hence when the body of a dead kinsman was lost because he had
been drowned at sea or slain on a battlefield, some of his relatives
would go down to the seashore or away to the battlefield where their
friend had perished; and there spreading out a cloth on the ground they
would pray to some god of the family, saying, "Oh, be kind to us; let us
obtain without difficulty the spirit of the young man!" After that the
first thing that lighted on the cloth was supposed to be the spirit of
the dead. It might be a butterfly, a grasshopper, an ant, a spider, or a
lizard; whatever it might be, it was carefully wrapt up and taken to the
family, who buried the bundle with all due ceremony, as if it contained
the body of their departed friend. Thus the unquiet spirit was believed
to find rest. Now the insect, or whatever it happened to be, which thus
acted as proxy at the burial was supposed to be the _ata_ or shadow of
the deceased. The same word _ata_ served to express likeness; a
photographer, for example, is called _pue-ata_, "shadow-catcher." The
Samoans do not appear to have associated the soul with the breath.[150]
[150] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 170
_sq._, 218 sq.; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 150 _sq._; S. Ella,
"Samoa," _Report of the Fourth Meeting of the Australasian
Association for the Advancement of Science, held at Hobart,
Tasmania, in January 1892_, pp. 641 _sq._; J. B. Stair, _Old
Samoa_, p. 184. According to Brown and Stair the ceremony
described in the text was observed when a man had died a violent
death, even when the relatives were in possession of the body,
and in that case the insect, or whatever it might be, was buried
with the corpse. I have followed Turner and Ella in supposing
that the ceremony was only observed when the corpse could not be
found. As to the fear of the spirits of the unburied dead, see
also W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp. 58 _sq._,
151.
They attributed disease and death to the anger of a god, to the agency
of an evil spirit, or to the ghost of a dead relative who had entered
into the body of the sufferer. Epilepsy, delirium, and mania were always
thus explained by the entrance into the patient of a god or demon. The
Samoan remedy for all such ailments was not medicine but exorcism.
Sometimes a near relative of the sick person would go round the house
brandishing a spear and striking the walls to drive away the spirit that
was causing the sickness.[151] Hence when a member of a family fell
seriously ill, his friends did not send for a doctor, but repaired to
the high priest of the village to enquire of him the cause of the
sickness, to learn why the family god (_aitu_) was angry with them, and
to implore his mercy and forgiveness. Often the priest took advantage of
their anxiety to demand a valuable piece of property, such as a canoe or
a parcel of ground, as the best means of propitiating the angry deity
and so ensuring the recovery of the patient. With all these demands the
anxious and unsuspecting relatives readily complied. But if the priest
happened not to want anything in particular at the time, he would
probably tell the messengers to gather the family about the bed of the
sufferer and there confess their sins. The command was implicitly
obeyed, and every member of the family assembled and made a clean breast
of his or her misdeeds, especially of any curse which he or she might
have called down either on the family generally or on the invalid in
particular. Curiously enough, the curse of a sister was peculiarly
dreaded; hence in such cases the sister of the sick man was closely
questioned as to whether she had cursed him and thus caused his illness;
if so, she was entreated to remove the curse, that he might recover.
Moved by these pleadings, she might take some coco-nut water in her
mouth and spurt it out towards or upon the body of the sufferer. By this
action she either removed the curse or declared her innocence; a similar
ceremony might be performed by any other member of the family who was
suspected of having cursed the sick man.[152]
[151] S. Ella, _op. cit._ pp. 639, 643; G. Brown,
_Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 223 _sq._, 402.
[152] W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp.
146 _sq._; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 140 _sq._; S. Ella, _op.
cit._ p. 639; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 180 _sq._; G. Brown,
_Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 223 _sq._, 401.
When an illness seemed likely to prove fatal, messengers were despatched
to friends at a distance that they might come and bid farewell to the
dying man. Every one who came to visit the sufferer in his last moments
brought a present of a fine mat or other valuable piece of property as
a token of regard, and to defray the cost of the illness and funeral.
The best of the mats would be laid on the body of the dying man that he
might have the comfort of seeing them before he closed his eyes for
ever. Dr. George Brown thought that the spirits of the mats thus laid on
the body of the dying chief were supposed to accompany his soul to the
other world. It is possible that their spirits did so, but it is certain
that their material substance did not; for after the funeral all the
mats and other valuables so presented were distributed among the
mourners and friends assembled on the occasion, so that every one who
had brought a gift took away something in return on his departure.[153]
[153] W. T. Pritchard, _op. cit._ pp. 147, 150 _sq._;
G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 141 _sq._, 146; S. Ella, _op. cit._ p.
639; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, p. 180; G. Brown, _Melanesians
and Polynesians_, pp. 220, 401, 405 _sq._
If the dying man happened to be a chief, numbers crowded round him to
receive a parting look or word, while in front of the house might be
seen men and women wildly beating their heads and bodies with great
stones, thus inflicting on themselves ghastly wounds, from which the
blood poured as an offering of affection and sympathy to their departing
friend or lord. It was hoped that, pleased and propitiated by the sight
of their devotion, the angry god might yet stay his hand and spare the
chief to his people. Above all the tumult and uproar would rise the
voice of one who prayed aloud for the life then trembling in the
balance. But if the prayer seemed likely to prove ineffectual, it was
exchanged for threats and upbraiding. "O thou shameless spirit," the
voice would now be heard exclaiming, "could I but grasp you, I would
smash your skull to pieces! Come here and let us fight together. Don't
conceal yourself, but show yourself like a man, and let us fight, if you
are angry."[154]
[154] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 181 _sq._
Immediately after death, all the mats on the floor of the house were
thrown outside, and the thatched sides of the house were either torn
down or knocked in with clubs; while the relatives and assembled crowds
wrought themselves up to frenzy, uttering loud shrieks, rending their
garments, tearing out their hair by handfuls, burning their bodies with
firebrands, beating their faces and heads with clubs and stones, or
gashing themselves with shells and shark's teeth, till the blood ran
freely down. This they called an offering of blood for the dead. In
their fury some of the mourners fell on the canoes and houses, breaking
them up and tearing them down, felling the bread-fruit trees, and
devastating the plantations of yams and taro.[155]
[155] W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, p.
148; G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 144; S. Ella, _op. cit._ p. 640; J.
B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, p. 182; G. Brown, _Melanesians and
Polynesians_, pp. 401 _sq._
As decomposition is rapid in the hot moist climate of Samoa, it was
customary to bury commoners a few hours after death. The body was laid
out on a mat, anointed with scented oil, and the face tinged with
turmeric, to soften the cadaverous look. It was then wound up in several
folds of native cloth and the chin propped up, the head and face being
left uncovered, while for some hours longer the body was surrounded by
weeping relatives, who kept constant watch over it, so long as it
remained in the house. These watchers were always women, and none of
them might quit her post under any pretext till she was relieved by
another. A fire was kept burning brightly in the house all the time. If
the deceased had died of a complaint which had previously carried off
other members of the family, they would probably open the body to
"search for the disease." Any inflamed substance which they happened to
find they would take away and burn, thinking thus to prevent any other
member of the family from being similarly afflicted. Such a custom
betrays an incipient sense of death from natural, instead of
supernatural, causes, and must have contributed to diffuse a knowledge
of human anatomy.[156]
[156] W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp.
148 _sq._; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 144 _sq._; J. B. Stair, _Old
Samoa_, 182; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 402.
So long as a corpse remained in the house no food might be eaten under
the roof; the family had their meals outside or in another house. Those
who had attended to the deceased or handled the corpse were taboo: they
might not feed themselves or touch food with their hands. For days they
were fed by others as if they were helpless infants. Baldness and the
loss of teeth were supposed to be the punishment inflicted by the
household god for a breach of the rule. Many people fasted at such
times, eating nothing during the day, but taking a meal in the evening.
The fifth day was a day of purification. The tabooed persons then washed
their faces and hands with hot water and were clean; after that they
were free to eat at the usual time and in the usual manner.[157]
[157] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 145; W. T. Pritchard, _op.
cit._ p. 149; S. Ella, _op. cit._ p. 640; J. B. Stair, _Old
Samoa_, p. 182; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p.
402.
The ordinary mode of disposing of the dead was by interment either in a
stone vault or in a shallow grave. But occasionally other modes were
adopted, such as embalming, putting the corpse in a canoe and setting it
adrift on the sea, or exposing it on a stage erected in the forest,
where it was left to decay, the bones being afterwards collected and
buried. Upon the death of a chief his body was generally deposited in a
family vault, the sides and bottom of which were lined with large slabs
of sandstone or basalt, while another large slab of the same material
formed the roof. Such vaults were sometimes large and massive. The
stones used in their construction were found in various parts of the
islands. Commoners were buried in shallow graves.[158]
[158] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 178 _sq._
Ordinary people were usually buried the day after they died. As many
friends as could be present attended the funeral. Every one brought a
present, but on the day after the funeral all these presents, like those
which had previously been made to the dying man, were distributed again,
so that none went empty-handed away. The corpse was generally buried
without a coffin; but chiefs were laid in hollow logs or canoes.
However, even the bodies of common people were sometimes interred
in rude coffins similarly constructed. There were no common
burying-grounds; all preferred to bury their dead on their own land.
Often the grave was dug close to the house. The body was laid in it with
the head to the east and the feet to the west. When it had been thus
committed to its last resting-place, a near relative of the deceased, a
sister, if one survived, seated herself at the grave, and waving a white
cloth over the corpse, began an address to the dead. "Compassion to
you," she said, "go with goodwill, and without bearing malice towards
us. Take with you all our diseases, and leave us life." Then pointing to
the west, she exclaimed, "Misery there!" Next pointing to the east, she
cried, "Prosperity there!" Lastly, pointing to the grave, she said,
"Misery there; but leave happiness with us!" With the body they
deposited in the grave several things which had been used by the
deceased during his illness, such as his clothing, his drinking-cup, and
his bamboo pillow. The wooden pickaxes and coco-nut shells employed as
shovels in digging the grave were also carefully buried with the corpse.
It was not, we are told, because the people believed these things to be
of use to the dead; but because it was supposed that, if they were left
and handled by others, further disease and death would be the
consequence. Valuable mats and other articles of property were sometimes
buried with the corpse, and the grave of a warrior was surrounded with
spears stuck upright in the ground. Graves were sometimes enclosed with
stones and strewn with sand or crumbled coral.[159]
[159] W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp.
150 _sq._; G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 146 _sq._; S. Ella, _op.
cit._ pp. 640 _sq._; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 179 _sq._,
182 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 403.
The obsequies of a chief of high rank were more elaborate. The body was
kept unburied for days until his clansfolk had assembled from various
parts of the islands and paraded the body, shoulder high, through the
village, chanting a melancholy dirge.[160] The mourning and ceremonies
lasted from ten to fifteen days. All that time the house of death was
watched night and day by men appointed for the purpose. After the
burial, and until the days of mourning were ended, the daytime was
generally spent in boxing and wrestling matches, and sham-fights, while
the nights were occupied with dancing and practising a kind of
buffoonery, which was customary at these seasons of mourning for the
dead. The performance was called _O le tau-pinga_. The performers amused
themselves by making a variety of ludicrous faces and grimaces at each
other, to see who could excite the other to laugh first. Thus they
whiled away the hours of night till the days of mourning were
expired.[161] So long as the funeral ceremonies and feasts lasted no
work might be done in the village, and no strangers might approach it.
The neighbouring lagoon and reefs were taboo: no canoe might pass over
the lagoon anywhere near the village, and no man might fish in it or on
the reef.[162] For a chief or man of distinction fires were kept burning
day and night in a line from the house to the grave; these fires were
maintained for ten days after the funeral. The reason assigned for this
custom, according to Ella, was to keep away evil spirits. Even common
people observed a similar custom. After burial they kept a fire blazing
in the house all night, and they were careful to clear the intervening
ground so that a stream of light went forth from the house to the grave.
The account which the Samoans gave of the custom, according to Turner,
was that it was merely a light burning in honour of the departed, and a
mark of their tender regard for him. Dr. George Brown believed that the
original motive for the custom was to warm the ghost, and probably at
the same time to protect the mourners against dangerous spirits.[163]
[160] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 146
[161] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 183 _sq._
[162] W. T. Pritchard, _Polynesian Reminiscences_, pp.
149 _sq._; S. Ella, _op. cit._ p. 642; G. Brown, _Melanesians
and Polynesians_, pp. 403 _sq._
[163] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 149; S. Ella, _op. cit._
pp. 640 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 402.
The head was deemed a very sacred part, and in olden days the bodies of
chiefs were often buried near their houses until decomposition had set
in, when the head was cut off and interred in some family burying-place
inland, to save it from insult in time of war. This interment of the
head was accompanied with feasts, dances, and sham-fights. The skull was
borne to the appointed place on a kind of stage, attended by a troop of
armed men. With these sham-fights Dr. George Brown, who records the
custom, compares the sham-fights which used to take place among the
Melanesians of the Duke of York Island when the body of a chief was laid
on a high platform in front of his house, one company of warriors
striving to deposit the corpse on the platform, while their adversaries
attempted to prevent them from doing so.[164] The meaning of these
curious sham-fights is obscure. Perhaps the attacking party represented
a band of evil spirits, who endeavoured to snatch away the chief's
body, but were defeated in the nefarious attempt.
[164] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 388
_sq._, 404 _sq._
One or two families of chiefs in the island of Upolu used to practise a
rude kind of embalming. The work was done exclusively by women. The
viscera having been removed and buried, the women anointed the body
daily with a mixture of oil and aromatic juices. To let the fluids
escape, they punctured the body all over with fine needles. Finally,
wads of native cloth, saturated with oil or resinous gums, were inserted
in the abdomen, the apertures were closed up, and the body wrapt in
native cloth. The face, hands, and feet were left exposed, and were
repeatedly anointed with oil, mixed with turmeric powder, to give a
fresh and life-like appearance to the mummy. The whole process lasted
about two months. On its completion the mummy was placed in a house
built specially for the purpose, where, loosely covered with a sheet of
native cloth, it rested on a raised platform. Strangers were freely
admitted to see it. Four of these mummies, laid out in a house, were to
be seen down to about the year 1864. They were the bodies of a chief,
his wife, and two sons. Dr. George Turner judged that they must have
been embalmed upwards of thirty years, and although they had been
exposed all that time, they were in a remarkably good state of
preservation. The people assigned no particular reason for the practice,
further than that it sprang from an affectionate desire to keep the
bodies of their departed friends with them, as if they were still
alive.[165]
[165] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 148 _sq._; S. Ella, _op.
cit._ p. 641; J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 184 _sq._; G. Brown,
_Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 405.
Sec. 11. _The Fate of the Human Soul after Death_
With regard to the fate of human souls after death the Samoans appear to
have believed in their immortality, or at all events in their indefinite
survival. On this subject Dr. Brown observes: "All souls survived after
death, and so far as I know they had no idea of their dying a second
death or being destroyed. I do not think that a Samoan could give any
reason for his belief that the soul does not perish with the body, but
he certainly does believe this, and I never heard any one question
the fact."[166] Thus, according to Dr. Brown the Samoans, unlike the
Tongans, drew no invidious distinction between the souls of noblemen and
the souls of commoners, but liberally opened the doors of immortality to
gentle and simple alike. So far, they carried their republican or
democratic spirit into the world beyond the grave.
[166] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 220
_sq._
However, according to the American ethnologist, Horatio Hale, some of
the Samoans agreed with the Tongans in taking an aristocratic view of
the destiny of souls after death; and as he had good opportunities for
acquainting himself with the Samoan religion during the prolonged stay
of the American Exploring Expedition at Samoa in 1839, when the islands
were as yet but little affected by European influence, I will quote his
account. He says: "All believe in the existence of a large island,
situated far to the north-west called _Pulotu_, which is the residence
of the gods. Some suppose that while the souls of the common people
perish with their bodies, those of the chiefs are received into this
island, which is described as a terrestrial elysium, and become there
inferior divinities. Others hold (according to Mr. Heath) that the
spirits of the departed live and work in a dark subterraneous abode, and
are eaten by the gods. A third, and very common opinion is, that the
souls of all who die on an island, make their way to the western
extremity, where they plunge into the sea; but what then becomes of them
is not stated. The rock from which they leap, in the island of Upolu,
was pointed out to us; the natives term it '_Fatu-asofia_,' which was
rendered the 'jumping-off stone.'"[167]
[167] H. Hale, _Ethnography and Philology of the United
States Exploring Expedition_, p. 27.
Of these various opinions described by Hale the third would seem to have
been by far the most prevalent. It was commonly believed that the
disembodied spirit retained the exact resemblance of its former self, by
which we are probably to understand the exact resemblance of its former
body. Immediately on quitting its earthly tabernacle it began its
solitary journey to Fafa, which was the subterranean abode of the dead,
lying somewhere to the west of Savaii, the most westerly island of the
group. Thus, if a man died in Manua, the most easterly of the islands,
his soul would journey to the western end of that island, then dive into
the sea and swim across to Tutuila. There it would walk along the beach
to the extreme westerly point of the island, when it would again plunge
into the sea and swim across to the next island, and so on to the most
westerly cape of Savaii, where it finally dived into the ocean and
pursued its way to the mysterious Fafa.[168]
[168] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 218 _sq._ Compare
G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 257; S. Ella, _op. cit._ pp. 643 _sq._
At the western end of Savaii, near the village of Falealupo, there are
two circular openings among the rocks, not far from the beach. Down
these two openings the souls of the dead were supposed to go on their
passage to the spirit-world. The souls of chiefs went down the larger of
the openings, and the souls of common people went down the smaller. Near
the spot stood a coco-nut tree, and if a passing soul chanced to collide
with it, the soul could not proceed farther, but returned to its body.
When a man recovered from a deep swoon, his friends supposed that his
soul had been arrested in its progress to the other world by knocking
against the coco-nut tree, and they rejoiced, saying, "He has come back
from the tree of the Watcher," for that was the name by which the
coco-nut tree was known. So firmly did the people of the neighbourhood
believe in the passage of the souls near their houses, that at night
they kept down the blinds to exclude the ghosts.[169] The "jumping-off
stone" at the west end of Upolu was also dreaded on account of the
passing ghosts. The place is a narrow rocky cape. The Samoans were much
astonished when a Christian native boldly built himself a house on the
haunted spot.[170] According to one account, the souls of the dead had
not to make their way through the chain of islands by the slow process
of walking and swimming, but were at once transported to the western end
of Savaii by a band of spirits, who hovered over the house of the dying
man, and catching up his parting spirit conveyed it in a straight
course westward.[171]
[169] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 257 _sq._; S. Ella, _op.
cit._ pp. 643 _sq._; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p.
221.
[170] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, p. 219.
[171] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 257; S. Ella, _op. cit._
p. 643.
The place down which the spirits of the dead were supposed to descend to
the nether world was called by a native name (_Lua[=o]_), which means
"hollow pit." "May you go rumbling down the hollow pit" was a common
form of cursing. At the bottom of the pit was a running stream which
floated the spirits away to Pulotu. All alike, the handsome and the
ugly, old and young, chiefs and commoners, drifted pell-mell on the
current in a dazed, semi-conscious state, till they came to Pulotu.
There they bathed in "the Water of Life" and recovered all their old
life and vigour. Infirmity of every kind fled away; even the aged became
young again. The underworld of Pulotu was conceived on the model of our
upper world. There, as here, were heavens and earth and sea, fruits and
flowers; there the souls of the dead planted and fished and cooked;
there they married and were given in marriage, all after the manner of
life on earth.[172]
[172] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 258 _sq._; G. Brown,
_Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 222.
However, it appears that according to a widespread belief the world of
the dead was sharply discriminated into two regions, to wit, an Elysium
or place of bliss called Pulotu, and a Tartarus or place of woe named
S[=a]-le-Fe'e. The title for admission to one or other of these places
was not moral worth but social rank, chiefs going to Elysium and
commoners to Tartarus. The idea of the superiority of the chiefs to the
common people was thus perpetuated in the land of the dead.[173] The
king of the lower regions was a certain Saveasiuleo, that is, Savea of
the Echo. He reclined in a house in the company of the chiefs who
gathered round him: the upper part of his body was human, the lower part
was like that of a fish and stretched away into the sea. This royal
house of assembly was supported by the erect bodies of chiefs, who had
been of high rank on earth, and who, before they died, anticipated with
pride the honour they were to enjoy by serving as pillars in the temple
of the King of Pulotu.[174]
[173] J. B. Stair, _Old Samoa_, pp. 217 _sq._; G.
Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 221. On the question
whether the Samoans held a doctrine of moral retribution after
death, Dr. Brown observes: "I do not remember any statement to
the effect that the conduct of a man in this life affected his
state after death. They certainly believe this now, but whether
they did so prior to the introduction of Christianity I cannot
definitely say. I am inclined, however, to believe that they did
not believe that conduct in this life affected them in the
future" (_Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 261 _sq._).
Elsewhere, however, Dr. Brown seems to express a contrary
opinion. He says: "It was generally understood that the
conditions of men in this life, even amongst the common people,
had an effect on their future conditions. A good man in Samoa
generally meant a liberal man, one who was generous and
hospitable; whilst a bad man was one who was mean, selfish, and
greedy about food" (_op. cit._ p. 222).
[174] G. Turner, _Samoa_, pp. 259 _sq._; S. Ella, _op.
cit._ p. 644.
But the souls of the dead were not permanently confined to the lower
world. They could return to the land of the living by night to hold
converse with members of their families, to warn and instruct them in
dreams, and to foretell the future. They could cause disease and death
by entering into the bodies of their enemies and even of their friends,
and they produced nightmare by sitting on the chests of sleepers. They
haunted some houses and especially burying-grounds. Their apparitions
were visible to the living and were greatly dreaded; people tried to
drive them away by shouts, noises, and the firing of guns. But the
ghosts had to return to the nether world at daybreak. It was because
they feared the spirits of the dead that the Samoans took such great
pains to propitiate dying people with presents; this they did above all
to persons whom they had injured, because they had most reason to dread
the anger of their ghosts.[175] However, the souls of the departed were
also thought of in a more amiable light; they could help as well as harm
mankind. Hence prayers were commonly offered at the grave of a parent, a
brother, or a chief. The suppliant, for example, might pray for health
in sickness; or, if he were of a malignant turn, he might implore the
ghost to compass the death of some person at whom he bore a grudge. Thus
we are told that a woman prayed for the death of her brother, and he
died accordingly.[176] In such beliefs and practices we have, as I have
already observed, the essential elements of a regular worship of the
dead. Whether the Samoans were on the way to evolve such a religion or,
as Dr. George Brown preferred to suppose,[177] had left it behind them
and made some progress towards a higher faith, we hardly possess the
means of determining.
[175] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 259; S. Ella, _op. cit._
p. 644; G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp.
219, 221, 222.
[176] G. Turner, _Samoa_, p. 151.
[177] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, pp. 245,
282.
But while the Samoans thought that the dead return to earth to make or
mar the living, they did not believe that the spirits come back to be
born again in the form of men or animals or to occupy inanimate bodies;
in other words they had no belief in the transmigration of souls.[178]
The absence of such a belief is significant in view of Dr. Rivers's
suggestion that Melanesian totemism may have been evolved out of a
doctrine of metempsychosis, human souls being supposed to pass at death
into their totem animals or plants.[179] We have seen that the Samoan
system of family, village, and district gods bears strong marks of
having been developed out of totemism; and if their totemism had in turn
been developed out of a doctrine of transmigration, we should expect to
find among them a belief that the souls of the dead appeared in the
shape of the animals, plants, or other natural objects which were
regarded as the embodiments of their family, village, or district gods.
But of such a belief there is seemingly no trace. It appears, therefore,
unlikely that Samoan totemism was based on a doctrine of transmigration.
Similarly we have seen reason to think that the Tongan worship of
animals may have sprung from totemism, though according to the best
authorities that worship was not connected with a theory of
metempsychosis.[180] Taken together, the Samoan and the Tongan systems
seem to show that, if totemism ever flourished among the Polynesians, it
had not its roots in a worship of the dead.
[178] G. Brown, _Melanesians and Polynesians_, p. 221,
"They had no belief in the transmigration of souls either into
animals, inert bodies, or into different human bodies."
[179] W. H. R. Rivers, _The History of Melanesian
Society_, ii. 358 _sqq._
[180] See above, pp. 92 _sqq._