The most artistic and uncommon ornament of a Fijian chief is a breast-plate from six to ten inches in diameter, made of polished whale’s tooth, sliced and inlaid with pearly shell, all most beautifully joined together. These, like all native work, whether wood-carving or ivory, not only claim admiration, but fill me with wonder at the patient ingenuity which could possibly produce such results with the tools hitherto possessed by these people, to whom metals were unknown, whose axes and hatchets were made of smooth and beautifully polished green-stone (precisely similar to the celts of our forefathers, and how they made these is to me incomprehensible). I have bought several tied with coarse sinnet to a rude handle of wood cut in the form of a bent knee. When the stone axe had accomplished the first rough shaping of the form required, a skilfully used fire-stick next came into use, and then a lump of mushroom coral, or a piece of the rough skin of the sting-ray, stretched on wood, acted as a rasp or file. A fine polish was attained by patient friction with pumice-stone and cocoa-nut oil. The only other tools of the Fijian workman consisted of broken shells, the teeth of rats and fishes, or the sharp spines of the echini, set in hard wood. Yet with these rude implements these untutored savages (if so we should call them) produced forms so artistic, and carving so elaborate and graceful, as must excite the keen admiration of all lovers of art. But alas for the vulgarising influence of contact with white men! Already the majority of the islanders have sold their own admirable ornaments, and wear instead trashy English necklaces, with perhaps a circular tin looking-glass attached, or an old cotton-reel in the ear instead of a rudely carved ear-ring. In the more frequented districts this lamentable change thrusts itself more forcibly on the attention, as almost all the fine old clubs and beautifully carved spears have been bought up, and miserable sticks and nondescript articles—including old European battle-axes—take their place. Here in the mountains each company carried spears, clubs, or fans, all of which played their part in the various dances—most of which are so old, that the meaning of the songs and pantomime are alike forgotten by the actors. In one long piece of by-play all the men of the village appeared dressed alike, their heads being plastered with lime, looking just like powdered footmen (only that they were brown and naked to the waist). It was so very solemn that we thought some terrible tragedy was being recounted; but we were told it was only a story about an empty basket!