A MALAYAN PRISON
I HAVE said that the Malays, taken in bulk, have no bowels. The story I am about to tell illustrates the truth of this assertion rather forcibly. The particular incident related happened on the east coast of the Malay Peninsula in the year of grace 1895. The native gaol, of which mention is made, was visited by me a month or two before I wrote the account of it; and it and its numerous counterparts continued to exist in some of the independent Malay States on the east coast, until the British eventually took charge of their affairs in 1910. It is useful to bear facts such as these in mind lest, in our honest solicitude for the rights and liberties of mankind, we should subscribe too enthusiastically to the dictum of the late Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman that good government can never be a satisfactory substitute for self-government. From this opinion thousands of my friends in Malaya would passionately dissent, and as to whether the craven wretches who thus submit to alien rule can plead any justification for their heresy, let the readers of this story judge. For the rest, I must frankly admit that it is not a pretty tale, and I would counsel persons who prefer to ignore the existence of uncomfortable things to give it a wide berth.
