Omai’s house being nearly finished, many of his moveables were carried ashore on the 26th.  Amongst a variety of other useless articles was a box of toys, which, when exposed to public view, seemed greatly to please the gazing multitude.  But, as to his pots, kettles, dishes, plates, drinking-mugs, glasses, and the whole train of our domestic accommodations, hardly any one of his countrymen would so much as look at them.  Omai himself now began to think that they were of no manner of use to him; that a baked hog was more savoury food than a boiled one, that a plantain-leaf made as good a dish or plate as pewter, and that a cocoa-nut shell was as convenient a goblet as a blackjack.  And, therefore, he very wisely disposed of as many of these articles of English furniture for the kitchen and pantry, as he could find purchasers for, amongst the people of the ships; receiving from them in return, hatchets and other iron tools, which had a more intrinsic value in this part of the world, and added more to his distinguishing superiority over those with whom he was to pass the remainder of his days.

In the long list of the presents bestowed upon him in England, fire-works had not been forgot.  Some of these we exhibited in the evening of the 28th, before a great concourse of people, who beheld them with a mixture of pleasure and fear.  What remained, after the evening’s entertainment, were put in order, and left with Omai, agreeably to their original destination.  Perhaps we need not lament it as a serious misfortune, that the far greater share of this part of his cargo, had been already expended in exhibitions at other islands, or rendered useless by being kept so long.

Between midnight and four in the morning of the 30th, the Bolabola man, whom I had in confinement, found means to make his escape out’ of the ship.  He carried with him the shackle of the bilbo-bolt that was about his leg, which was taken from him, as soon as he got on shore, by one of the chiefs, and given to Omai, who came on board very early in the morning, to acquaint me that his mortal enemy was again let loose upon him.  Upon enquiry, it appeared that not only the sentry placed over the prisoner, but the whole watch upon the quarter-deck where he was confined, had laid themselves down to sleep.  He seized the opportunity to take the key of the irons out of the binnacle-drawer, where he had seen it put, and set himself at liberty.  This escape convinced me that my people had been very remiss in their night duty, which made it necessary to punish those who were now in fault, and to establish some new regulations to prevent the like negligence for the future.  I was not a little pleased to hear, afterward, that the fellow who escaped had transported himself to Ulietea; in this, seconding my views of putting him a second time in irons.[3]

[Footnote 3:  Might not so spirited a fellow as this, by proper treatment, have been made a most useful agent?  How many talents are often lost to society, because governments are more necessitated, or at least more accustomed, to punish transgressions, than willing to be at the pains of rewarding ability and fostering genius!  And yet the latter process, it might not be difficult to prove, would be much less expensive than the former.—­E.]