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the old man to think of his soul, and of the true God, but they had found him only inclined to speak of earthly things. He often interrupted them, by saying, “ When will another ship come? Have you any ava ?” He was quite disfigured by the ava he had drunk: his long silver beard, and mild, handsome countenance, made him look very venerable, but the redness of his eyes, and the white scurf upon his skin, showed that he was a drunkard.

About four months after the war in Atehuru, Ote-u died of old age. The people thought that he was a favourite of the gods, because he had lived above eighty years, and had died a natural death. He expired in a house very near the brethren. Owo, his daughter, asked them to make him a coffin. The body was embalmed, and placed in the coffin in a shed at Pare, opposite the king's house.

The next year, Otu's younger brother, Teare, appeared to be in a decline. He believed that his god was angry with him, and therefore sent a human sacrifice to his temple to quiet his wrath. But he continued to grow worse, and was tenderly nursed by his mother Idia.

As Te-are was living at Pare, Mr. Elder went to see him sometimes, and gave him wine and medicines. He paid him a visit the day before he died. He found him burning with fever, and the servants refreshing him by



throwing cold water over him; yet his body felt quite cold to the touch. Soon afterwards the prince grew faint, and as he thought he was dying, he took leave of his mother Idia, while the attendants stood by bathed in tears. Pomare was sent for immediately. He did not appear at all afflicted at the state of his son, because he considered that as all men must die, it was useless to grieve about death. However, he offered up to his gods, in the room where Te-are was lying, two hogs, a plantain-tree, and some red feathers, hoping by this means to make his son better. Mr. Elder spoke to the poor youth of the Saviour of the soul, but Idia seemed to dislike his doing so, as she thought that all the prayers to the idols would be vain, if Christ's name were mentioned. Though Teare knew he was dying, he appeared quite unconcerned about eternity. The next day Mr. Elder took some wine to the young prince. Te-are received the wine eagerly, though only able to swallow a table-spoonful. He said that his throat was decayed, and that therefore he could not swallow. Soon afterwards he ceased to breathe. Thus died Teare, at the age of eighteen, in June 1803.

The missionaries were grieved to see the natives one after another dropping into the grave, without having believed in the Saviour who had been preached to them.



Te-are's body was embalmed, and placed in a shed near his grandfather's corpse. It was the custom at the death of princes to forbid fires to be lighted in the district, in which the event happened. All the people of Pare were obliged, during the week after Te-are's death, to go to some distance to cook their food.

Pomare, who had seen his son expire with so much indifference, knew not how nearly his own days were numbered.

He had had a severe attack in the autumn before his son's death, and had been visited by Mr. Elder and Mr. Eyre, who had told him that the true God was angry with him for killing men for sacrifice. He had heard this without feeling, but when they had assured him, that they would pray for his recovery, when they prayed together at home, his heart had appeared touched by their kindness. Pomare soon recovered from this illness.

A month after Te-are's death, an event occurred, which filled Pomare with delight. Before this happy event occurred, the rebellious Atehurans formed a plot to murder Pomare and Idia. For this purpose they killed a man, as a sacrifice, and sent for Pomare to come to Atehuru, to offer it to the gods. They hoped that he would come, accompanied by only a few servants, and they intended to lie in wait, and

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murder both him and Idia. Otu heard of this plot, and informed his father of it, who accordingly went to Atehuru by water, guarded by a large fleet of canoes. When he arrived there, he found the Atehurans more ready than before to submit to his authority, and they even delivered up the god Oro, that log of wood, that had caused so much blood to flow. Thus peace was

established in the island, on August 1st, 1803. But Pomare did not live to enjoy the submission of the people, or the possession of his god, for, only one month afterwards, he was cut off with a stroke from the Almighty. This was the manner of his death.

A ship, called the Dart, was at anchor near Tahiti. One morning, Pomare set out in a canoe with two men, to go to the ship. He held a paddle in his hand, and had almost reached the vessel, when he suddenly felt a pain in his back; he cried out, and put his hand to the place, where he felt the pain, dropped the paddle from the other hand, and fell on his face, while his outstretched arms fell over the sides of the canoe. His two attendants immediately rowed his body to the shore of Pare. As soon as the brethren heard of the event, they hastened to the spot; Mr. Elder felt his pulse, and thought it still faintly beat. He did not, however, dare to bleed Pomare, as the natives would have accused him of intend

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ing to do harm to their chief. The dead body was soon afterwards embalmed, and placed near the corpses of Pomare's father, and youngest son. They were all within sight of the king's house ; so that Otu, as he sat within his palace, could behold the bodies of his brother, father, and grandfather.

The natives did not appear either shocked, or grieved by Pomare's sudden death: for their hearts were so much hardened by continual cruelties, that they seldom felt pity, or grief for others.

Otu, who was now at Atehuru, did not come to see his father's dead body, but desired that it might be sent to him. Idia, however, asked two of the brethren to entreat the king to allow it to remain at Pare. They went accordingly to the king, and obtained their request, but found Otu quite unconcerned about his father's death; yet he was so much terrified at night, by fears lest his father's spirit should appear to him, that he caused one of his servants to sleep near him.

It is usual to speak of the character of persons, especially of kings, after their death. What shall we

now say of Pomare? So many of his deeds have been related, that every reader must know that, like other heathen, he was cruel, selfish, deceitful, and covetous. He was, however, less brave than many other men, and at the same time more active in labours;

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