to the Chinese for shops and tea-houses. The Chinaman has taken root here, and flourishes; every year the Chinese hold upon business increases, and some of the French residents advocate the expulsion of the Mongolians, through fear that they will soon have a monopoly of the commerce of the islands.
"In the resident part of the town nearly every house stands in its own garden, and the most of these gardens are prettily laid out. There are good roads in and around the place, and we have had some charming drives, sometimes in carriages, which we hired at one of the hotels, and sometimes by invitation of the residents. We have had a most hospitable reception, and everybody from the Governor down has tried to make us enjoy our visit.
"The English consul invited us to dine at his country residence, and afterwards treated us to a moonlight excursion on the water. It was very pretty, as the lagoon was as calm as a mirror, and there were many boats out at the same time. The natives seem to be a careless, fun-loving people. Wherever there is a group of them there is always more or less laughter going on, and they seem to be constantly playing harmless little jokes on one another. The evenings here are delightful, and it is the custom to go out after dinner. The favorite resort is the lawn near the Government-house; a band from one of the ships-of-war plays there every evening, and always has a large audience. The natives are very fond of music, and when it is lively they fall to dancing on the green turf.
"The population of the two clusters that form the Society group is said to be a little less than twenty thousand, three-fourths of them belonging to the Tahitian cluster and one-fourth to the north-western. The native population of this island is about eight thousand. There are about one thousand Chinese on the islands, eight hundred French, two hundred and fifty British subjects, and one hundred and fifty Americans, and perhaps one hundred of other nationalities.
"They tell us that we can drive in a carriage all the way around Tahiti, a distance of one hundred and sixty miles, and that we can hardly go a mile of this distance without coming to a stream of clear water rolling or rippling down from the mountains. Most of these streams are simply rivulets or brooks, but some of them are rivers too large and deep to be forded. Some of these rivers have been bridged, but where this has not been done they must be crossed by ferry-boats. Villages are scattered at intervals of a few miles, and any one who undertakes the journey can be comfortably lodged every night, especially if he
