SINGAPORE. 395 



clatter. The features, dress, and language of the venders were as 

 various as the articles they had to sell ; and they agreed only in the 

 common character of a dark skin. The specimen thus presented of 

 the population of Singapore prepared us for the sight of the motley 

 group we were to meet on shore. 



At Singapore I had the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance 

 with Mr. Balestier, our worthy consul. To him, his lady, and his 

 son, we are under many obligations for their kind treatment and 

 attention. Mr. Balestier is so well known among men of science in 

 the United States, it would be needless for me to say that from him 

 I derived much interesting information relative to the place, its com- 

 merce, &c, for which I here offer my acknowledgments. He was 

 extensively engaged in the cultivation of sugar, on a plantation of 

 one thousand acres, within two miles of Singapore, nearly half of 

 which was under cultivation. This extent of ground he has by his 

 exertions reclaimed from the jungle, and it bids fair to repay the 

 labour and expense he has incurred in clearing and bringing it into 

 cultivation. He is the first person who has attempted the cultivation 

 of sugar at Singapore, and for his success he was awarded the gold 

 medal of the Calcutta Agricultural Society. 



As we passed through the vessels with which the roads were 

 crowded on our way to the shore, the hum of voices was plainly 

 audible, particularly from the Chinese junks, which seemed not un- 

 like a human hive. On reaching the mouth of the river, as was to 

 be expected, the crowd thickened, and the way became more and 

 more obstructed, until we were fairly jammed among the sampans, 

 with their crowded population. The river does not exceed two 

 hundred and fifty feet in width. It is shallow at its mouth, and 

 passes through the centre, or rather divides the old from the new 

 town ; these are connected by a wooden bridge. As far up as the 

 bridge, which is about one-third of a mile from the entrance, the river 

 is of various widths, and its banks have been carefully built up with 

 stone, having steps occasionally for the convenience of landing from 

 the boats. A large population is on the river, dwelling in the sam- 

 pans, which are all crowded with men, women, and children, the 

 latter naked, and frolicking in and out of the water at pleasure. 

 These boats are ranged in rows on each side of the passage towards 

 the bridge, and are confined by stakes stuck in the bottom. As may 

 be well imagined, there are frequent accidents and misadventures, 

 that call for the exercise of the lungs of this crowded multitude, yet 



