Of late years, however, the condition of the people in Saffragam has so much improved that it has become difficult to obtain the finest jewels, the wealthier natives preferring to retain them as investments: they part with them reluctantly, and only for gold, which they find equally convenient for concealment.[1] [Footnote 1: So eager is the appetite for hoarding in these hills, that eleven rupees (equal to twenty-two shillings) have frequently been given for a sovereign.] The lapidaries who cut and polish the stones are chiefly Moors, but their tools are so primitive, and their skill so deficient, that a gem generally loses in value by having passed through their hands.

The inferior kinds, such as cinnamon-stones, garnets, and tourmaline, are polished by ordinary artists at Kandy, Matura, and Galle; but the more expert lapidaries, who cut rubies and sapphires, reside chiefly at Caltura and Colombo.
As a general rule, the rarer gems are less costly in Europe than in Colombo.

In London and Paris the quantities brought from all parts of the world are sufficient to establish something like a market value; but, in Ceylon, the supply is so uncertain that the price is always regulated at the moment by the rank and wealth of the purchaser.

Strange to say, too, there is often an unwillingness even amongst the Moorish dealers to sell the rarest and finest specimens; those who are wealthy being anxious to retain them, and few but stones of secondary value are offered for sale.

Besides, the Rajahs and native Princes of India, amongst whom the passion for jewels is universal, are known to give such extravagant prices that the best are always sent to them from Ceylon.
From the Custom House returns it is impossible to form any calculation as to the value of the precious stones exported from the island.