Letters of a Javanese Princess Part 12

XV

_21 January, 1901._[1]

We went at midday to the sh.o.r.e with Mevrouw Conggrijp to bathe. It was splendidly calm, and the sea was all one colour. I sat on a rock with my feet in the water, and my eyes on the distant horizon. Oh! the world is so beautiful! Thanksgiving and peace were in my heart. If we go to Mother Nature for consolation she will not allow us to go away uncomforted.

I have thought so long and so much about education, especially of late, and I think it such a high, holy task that I feel that it would be a sin to dedicate myself to it, and not be able to fill in my account to the utmost; if I thought otherwise, I should be a teacher without worth.

Education means the forming of the mind and of the soul. I feel that with the education of the mind the task of the teacher is not complete.

The duty of forming the character is his; it is not included in the letter of the law, but it is a moral duty. I ask myself if I am able to do this? I who am still so uneducated myself.

I often hear it a.s.serted that when the mind is cultivated, the spirit grows of itself; but I have seen for a long time that that is not always the case, that education and intellect are not always a patent of morality. But one must not judge those whose spirits remain unawakened, who lack the higher education of the soul, too harshly; in most cases the fault lies not in themselves, but in their bringing up. Great care has been taken in the cultivation of the understanding, but in the cultivation of the character, none!

I subscribe warmly to Mijnheer's idea, which is set forth so clearly in his paper on the "Education of Native Girls," "Woman as the Carrier of Civilization!" Not because she has always shared the fate of man, and is a partner in his destiny, but because as I too am firmly convinced, she has a great and far-reaching influence, which can be for either good or evil; and because she, most of all, can help toward the spiritual regeneration of the world.

Man receives from woman his very earliest nourishment, at her breast, the child learns to feel, to think and to speak; and I see more and more clearly that the very earliest education has an influence which extends over one's whole after life. But how can the native women teach their children when they themselves are so ignorant?

There is great interest in education in the whole world of native women, so far as we know it. Many wish that they might be children again, so that they might profit by this opportunity. And splendid! the number of native scholars at Parti, Kodoes, j.a.para and the other districts are the first visible foreshadowings of success. Already there are some girls'

schools among the people and their number is increasing.

Tomorrow my mother will send a little girl (half orphan and child of her Anek Mas[2]) to school and last month our parents sent a good studious boy to learn to read in Dutch.

[1] To Mevrouw Abendanon.

[2] Foster nurse.

XVI

_31st January, 1901._[1]

I turn my face pensively to the far away, staring into the blue light, as though I expected to find there an answer to the tumultuous questions of my soul. My eyes follow the clouds as they journey through the vast heavens till they disappear behind the waving green leaves of the cocoanut trees. I see the glistening leaves painted with the gold of the sun, and suddenly the thought comes, "Ask them why does the sun shine?

What sends his rays? O my sun, my golden sun! I shall strive to live so that I may be worthy to be shone upon, and tended and warmed by your light."

Do not be distressed dear, if things do not go as I would have them. My life shall not have been in vain: there is always something to be done.

I will have it so! Those who seek G.o.d do not live in vain--and whosoever seeketh after G.o.d will find happiness, truth and peace of soul--and these are to be found at Modjowarno[2] as well. Who knows? perhaps there sooner than somewhere else. Never be discouraged; never be dismayed! We are only thankful that in any event a beginning has been made, that the foundations of our freedom and independence are being built.

[1] To Mevrouw Abendanon.

[2] In the Residency of Soerabaja. The most important as well as the oldest mission station in Java. It includes schools and hospitals. A medical missionary at Modjowarno had offered to train Kartini as a mid-wife, if her plan of going to Holland should fail.

XVII

_19 March, 1901._

Highly Honoured Dr. Adriani:

For a long time I have wanted to write to you, but several things, among them the indisposition of almost all of my family, have prevented me.

Now that the whole kaboepaten, great and small, is again rejoicing in excellent health, I shall not allow this letter to remain any longer unwritten. It has been in my thoughts so long, and doubtless you have expected it as well. Forgive me for the delay.

First of all I want to send my hearty thanks for your amiable letter to my sister Roekmini, and for your kindness in sending the books.

The three of us were made so happy by them, and are still for that matter. We think it is splendid that you should think of us. We also think and speak of you and of your Toradjas,[1] of your work, and of everything that we discussed that evening at the Abendanons'. The hours that we spent in your company are among the most delightful memories of our visit to Batavia.

We hope with our whole hearts that will not be our only meeting, but that we may see you often again. What a pleasure it would be to us, if some day we might bid you welcome to j.a.para.

We have much sympathy for the work of the Christian missionaries in Dutch India, and we admire the n.o.bility of heart of those who have established themselves in the most remote stretches of wilderness, far from their own country and kindred, and from all congenial companions, and cut themselves off from the world in which by virtue of birth, ability and education they would have an honourable position, to bring light into the lives of fellow men called by the cultivated world "savages."

We read both your letters with deep interest and I am grateful to you for telling us so much that was interesting, and of which we were ignorant.

In 1896 we had the privilege and pleasure of witnessing a solemnity the memory of which will probably remain with us all of our lives. That was the dedication of the new church at Kedoeng Pendjalin. It was the first time that we had ever been in a Christian church, and at a Christian service, and what we saw and heard there made a deep impression upon us.

It was long ago, but it is still fresh in my memory. The s.p.a.cious building was decorated with green foliage and the singing which echoed under the high roof was beautiful. With the reverent attentive mult.i.tude we followed the words which came forth from the chancel in pure Javanese.

Besides the Heer Hubert, there were three missionary students, who preached upon the occasion; and it was certainly not the least solemn moment of the whole solemn service, when an old decrepit Javanese stood up to speak of his faith to his fellow-countrymen. Everything was so impressive that the occasion has always been a memorable one to me.

It was on that morning that I had seen the outside world again for the first time since my school-days.

We read in the paper under the sailing news that Mevrouw was back again in India, so she will be with you very soon. We were right glad for your sake, when we read it. This letter is as though we made you and Mevrouw a visit of felicitation upon her return, to wish her, although we are still unknown to her, a hearty welcome to Mapane. Are not the Toradjas very happy to have their "Mother" among them again?

[1] A race in middle Celebes among whom Dr. Adriani worked.

XVIII

_20th May, 1901._[1]

I have been through so much in my young life, but it is all as nothing in comparison with what I have suffered in these last dreadful days of Father's illness.

There were hours when I was without will, but trembled with inward pain and the lips that had defiantly proclaimed "Come what may," now stammered "G.o.d pity me." My birthday was a double feast--a celebration also of Father's restoration to health. I let Father see your present, and told him how pleased you were with his portrait. Father lay upon a lounging chair; I sat next to him on the floor, his hand resting upon my head; it was thus that I spoke to him of you.

Father smiled when I told him of your enthusiastic expression of sympathy for him, and with that smile on his face, and certainly with a thought for the distant and loved friend of his child, my sick one slept.