When he entered I went in
with him, and found, to my surprise, that his father was _not_
dead! The old man was sitting on a mat in a corner, with an expression
of placid resignation on his face.
"'Why,' said I, 'have you strangled your father's wives before he is
dead?'
"To this the son replied, 'He is dead. That is no longer my father. He
is as good as dead now. He is to be _buried alive_.'
"I now remembered having heard that it is a custom among the Feejee
Islanders, that when the reigning chief grows old or infirm, the heir
to the chieftainship has a right to depose his father; in which case he
is considered as dead, and is buried alive. The young chief was now
about to follow this custom, and despite my earnest entreaties and
pleadings, the old chief was buried that day before my eyes in the same
grave with his four strangled wives! Oh, my heart groaned when I saw
this! and I prayed to God to open the hearts of these poor creatures,
as He had already opened mine, and pour into them the light and the
love of the Gospel of Jesus. My prayer was answered very soon. A week
afterwards, the son, who was now chief of the tribe, came to me,
bearing his god on his shoulders, and groaning beneath its weight.
Flinging it down at my feet, he desired me to burn it!
"You may conceive how overjoyed I was at this. I sprang up and embraced
him, while I shed tears of joy. Then we made a fire, and burned the god
to ashes, amid an immense concourse of the people, who seemed terrified
at what was being done, and shrank back when we burned the god,
expecting some signal vengeance to be taken upon us; but seeing that
nothing happened, they changed their minds, and thought that our God
must be the true one after all.
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