Before he left Singapore, Raffles selected twelve merchants and appointed them to act as magistrates for a year. He also provided for a succession of such magistrates, who were to be chosen from a list kept by the Resident.
Raffles' career was cut short by his sudden and premature death, which took place on the 5th of July, 1826. He had lived, however, long enough to see the merit of his public conduct established by the judgment of the Court of Directors, which I have already mentioned, and which was pronounced in the preceding April. The fortunes of Singapore were secured two years previously to this event, when the island was formally ceded to the British Government by the Sultan of Johore, in pursuance of the terms of an arrangement then concluded between the Dutch and English Governments. Subsequently it formed part of the consolidated Government of Penang, Singapore, and Malacca. In 1867 these settlements were converted into a Crown colony under the name of the Straits Settlements. At the present time the colony so constituted is administered by a Governor, and an Executive Council of eight members, assisted by a Legislative Council consisting of these eight official, and seven other unofficial, members.
The town of Singapore has fully realized the expectations of its founder. Its rapid and continuous growth is sufficiently indicated by the fact that at the present time it possesses a population of 182,650 inhabitants; while the importance of its trade is demonstrated by the fact that more than three million tons of shipping entered the port in the year 1889. In connection with the growing recognition of the necessity for an organized system of naval defence for the empire, the strategical value of Singapore has of late years been greatly emphasized, and the defences of the port have been strengthened and improved. Batteries have been constructed by the colony at a cost of £100,000, which have been furnished with guns at the expense of the Imperial Government. At the same time a new harbour, including the Tanjong Pagar wharf and docks, has been added three miles to the westward, where the largest ocean-going steamships can find ample space.
The original "fort" is still conspicuous in the centre of the town, and behind it are the gently rising hills on which the bungalows of the English residents are for the most part built. At evening the blinds are drawn up to welcome the reviving breath of the sea, and from the open windows of these bungalows appears a panoramic scene of singular extent and beauty, and one which forms a fitting background to the Eastern viands and Chinese servants which give a Singapore dinner-party a character of its own.
THE CAVANAGH BRIDGE, SINGAPORE.
The ricsha furnishes the streets with an additional element of picturesqueness. These charming vehicles are not used, however, by Europeans during the day. Then the Anglo-Saxon instinct for respectability (or some more subtle reason) prescribes the use of the ghari, which is practically a four-wheeled cab with Venetian blinds substituted for windows. The ricsha is especially used by the Chinese, who, as in Java, have contrived to get most of the retail trade into their hands, and many of whom are extremely wealthy and greatly attached to the British connection. In addition to the public offices, the most noticeable buildings are the Government House, which stands on a slight elevation and is surrounded by a park, the cathedral, and the Raffles Museum. Near the Cavanagh Bridge—a handsome iron suspension bridge which spans the river—is the hospitable and commodious Singapore club; and just outside the town there is a fine race-course. The esplanade together with this latter provide the English residents with the means of outdoor recreation which are so essential in the tropics. I have already spoken of the great advantage which Singapore possesses over Batavia in the singular healthiness of its climate. Almost the first sight which I saw on my arrival was that of an English crowd surrounding the tennis courts on the esplanade, where a very considerable tournament was proceeding. It is by such pursuits as these, polo, golf, cricket, and tennis, that the insidious languor of the East can alone be resisted.
There are times when, among the prosaic surroundings of this work-a-day world, our senses are unexpectedly stirred by some undetected stimulus which sets in motion a train of memories. Such memories penetrate even the gloomy recesses of Temple chambers. Sometimes they bring with them a waft of perfume from the warm pine woods that clothe the slopes of Table Mountain; sometimes a vision of glassy waters walled by the sheer mountain heights of New Zealand Sounds; or it may be a sense of calm swan-like motion over the sunlit reaches of the Hawkesbury. Not least interesting among such memories I count the recollection of a time when life was lived on a verandah, in the twilight of palm leaves, and its needs were served by dusky ministers whose footfall brought no disturbing sound.