CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY.

Nearly thirty years ago I published a little book of "Letters from
Sarawak, addressed to a Child." This book is now out of print, and, on
looking it over with a view to republication, I think it will be better
to extend the story over the twenty years that Sarawak was our home,
which will give some idea of the gradual progress of the mission.

This progress was often unavoidably impeded by the struggles of the
infant State; for war drowns the voice of the missionary, and though the
Sarawak Government always discouraged the Dyak practice of taking the
heads of their enemies, still it could not at once be checked, and every
expedition against lawless tribes, however righteous in its object,
excited the old superstitions of those wild people. When their warriors
returned from an expedition, the women of the tribe met them with dance
and song, receiving the heads they brought with ancient
ceremonies--"fondling the heads," as it was called; and for months
afterwards keeping up, by frequent feasts, in which these heads were the
chief attraction, the heathen customs which it was the object of the
missionary to discourage.

I dare say, when we first settled at Sarawak, we thought that twenty
years would plant Christian communities, and build Christian churches
all over the country: but it is as well that we cannot overlook the
future; and perhaps, considering the many difficulties which arose from
time to time, from the missionaries themselves, and the unsettled
country in which they laboured, we ought not to expect more results than
have appeared. At any rate we have much to be thankful for, and as every
year makes Sarawak a more important State, consolidates its Government,
and extends civilization to its subjects, we may look for more success
for the missionaries, who can now point to the peace and prosperity of
the people, and say, "This is the fruit of Christianity and Christian
rulers."

In giving a short account of our life in Borneo, I shall avoid alike all
political questions, or, as much as possible, individual histories among
the English community. It is already so long ago since we lived in that
lovely place, that events, trials, joys, and the usual vicissitudes of
life, are wrapt in that mellowing haze of the past, which, while it dims
the vividness of feeling, throws a robe of charity over all, and perhaps
causes actors and actions to assume a more true proportion to one