Malacca is an
old Dutch city, but the Portuguese have left the strongest mark of their
possession in the common language of the place being still theirs. I
have now two Portuguese servants, a cook and a hunter, and find myself
thus almost brought back again to Brazil by the similarity of language,
the people, and the jungle life. In Malacca we stayed only two days,
being anxious to get into the country as soon as possible. I stayed with
a Roman Catholic missionary; there are several here, each devoted to a
particular part of the population, Portuguese, Chinese and wild Malays
of the jungle. The gentleman we were with is building a large church, of
which he is architect himself, and superintends the laying of every
brick and the cutting of every piece of timber. Money enough could not
be raised here, so he took a voyage _round the world!_ and in the United
States, California, and India got subscriptions sufficient to complete
it.
It is a curious and not very creditable thing that in the English
colonies of Singapore and Malacca there is not a single Protestant
missionary; while the conversion, education and physical and moral
improvement of the inhabitants (non-European) is entirely left to these
French missionaries, who without the slightest assistance from our
Government devote their lives to the Christianising and civilising of
the varied populations which we rule over.
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