MR. WILTON. "The art of tattooing has been brought to such perfection here, that it actually excites admiration. It is looked upon as answering the same purposes as clothes. When a chief throws off his mats, he seems as proud of displaying the beautiful ornaments figured on his skin, as a civilized dandy does of his fashionable attire. Mr. Earle speaks of a man named Aranghie, a professor of the art of tattooing, thus:--'He was considered by his countrymen a perfect master in the art, and men of the highest rank and importance were in the habit of travelling long journeys, in order to put their skins under his skilful hands. Indeed, so highly were his works esteemed, that I have seen many of his drawings exhibited even after death. A neighbor of mine very lately killed a chief who had been tattooed by Aranghie, and appreciating the artist's work so highly, he skinned the chieftain's thighs, and covered his cartouch box with it!--I was astonished to see with what boldness and precision Aranghie drew his designs upon the skin, and what beautiful ornaments he produced: no rule and compasses could be more exact than the lines and circles he formed. So unrivalled is he in his profession, that a highly finished face of a chief from the hands of this artist, is as greatly prized in New Zealand as a head from the pencil of Sir Thomas Lawrence is amongst us. Such respect was paid to this man by the natives, that Mr. Earle expresses the gratification he felt, on seeing the fine arts held in such estimation by the savages." MR. BARRAUD. "I do not doubt but the New Zealanders are still cannibals in heart; for, so late as 1832, when Mr. Earle was there, he unfortunately had ocular proof of the fact. He had been residing with them some months, when a chief claimed one of his (Mr. Earle's) servants, stating she was a runaway slave. He tied her to a tree and shot her through the heart, and his men prepared an oven and cooked her. Mr. Earle heard of it, and hastened to the spot. He caught them in the act of preparing some of the poor girl's flesh, and endeavored, in vain, to prevent the horrible feast; but to no purpose; for they assembled at night and devoured every morsel except the head, which he saw a hungry dog run off with to the woods. The poor girl was only sixteen years of age, pretty and well-behaved, and her murderer was one of the aristocracy of New Zealand, and, as Mr. Earle observes, a remarkably polite savage." CHARLES. "We must bid adieu to these interesting savages, and pass on to the last, but certainly not the least, of the Pacific islands.--viz. Australia."