what he would do if a horde of bandits frequently burst forth from Brest and Cherbourg, ravaging the shores of the Channel, and carrying women and children into captivity, with the heads of their decapitated husbands and fathers?  Would he preach?  Would he preach when he saw his daughter dishonored and his son murdered?  And then would he proclaim his shame and cowardice among men?  What do some gentlemen expect?  They particularly desire to suppress piracy.  Do they really imagine that piracy is to be suppressed by argument and preaching?”

Mr. Brooke’s enemies have three times pressed their accusations before the House of Commons, and three times have been defeated by overwhelming majorities,—­the last vote being 230 to 19.  Finally, to end the controversy, a royal commission was appointed to visit the scene of these transactions, and upon the spot to decide their merits.  The report of this commission has not reached us, if indeed it has ever been made public; but the practical results of it are certain.  Mr. Brooke has severed his official connection with the British government by a resignation of the offices which he held under it; while he retains his sovereignty at Sarawak, with the undiminished love of his subjects and an unimpaired influence over the native tribes.  There seems to be no doubt that the intelligent public opinion of England fully sustains him.  And it is safe to predict that with that opinion the final verdict of history will coincide.  That, placed in circumstances of great difficulty, he may have taken steps not to be squared with the nicest morality, is possible; for that is what must be said of every man who has borne the burden of great public responsibility.  Neither is it surprising that a man of such boldness of speech and such almost Cromwellian vigor in action should have enemies; that is a necessity.  But that he has been a true and sagacious friend of the natives, and that his career has been for the increase of human happiness, are facts as certain as any can be.

His best defence is his works.  In 1842, when he took the government of Sarawak, it was a feeble province, torn by dissension, crushed by slavery, and ravaged by lawless violence.  Now it is a peaceful, prosperous commonwealth.  In 1842, its capital, Kuching, was a wretched village, whose houses were miserable mud huts or tents of leaves, and containing but fifteen hundred inhabitants.  Now it numbers fifteen thousand,—­an increase almost rivalling that of our Western cities.  In 1842, no boat put to sea without terror.  As a result, the amount of trade was contemptible.  Now Sarawak has enterprising native merchants, owning vessels of two hundred tons, having regular transactions with Singapore and all the neighboring ports.  This trade, as early as 1853, employed twenty-five thousand tons of shipping, and the exports for the year were valued at more than a million of dollars.  In 1842, deaths by violence were of almost daily occurrence.  Twelve years