XXVI

_October 11, 1901._[1]

And now dear friend, I am going to speak of myself and give you in

strictest confidence some idea of our plans. As doctors, accoucheuses,

writers, teachers or artists, we could gain our own independence and at

the same time work for the good of our fellow countrymen. All these ways

now stand open to us and there are others too in which we could be

independent. But we do not desire them, because we would only be working

for ourselves, and not for our people.

What could we do for them if we were apothecaries' assistants,

book-keepers, telegraph operators, clerks in an office or something of

that kind? Those spheres of activity do not attract us. We want to lead

full rich lives. You know the Government, through the Director of

Education, is planning to erect schools for native girls; and by way of

example a domestic school for the daughters of the nobles.

When we heard of this plan last year from the Director himself, his wife

asked me if I would teach in this last school. I answered that I took

much interest in the plan, but that the undertaking would be too great

for me, because I had no training and would not be capable of filling

such a position.

Mevrouw said that her husband wanted me just as I was; to help to lead

the young hearts and to form the young characters, I must go among the

children as an elder sister, and be an example to them. I felt highly

honoured at the suggestion, but unfitted for the task as I was; I had no

right to undertake it. Mevrouw said that if I really must have some

preparation, then I could go for a little while to the normal school at

Batavia, there would be no difficulty about that, it was only a question

of my own wishes.

That my Father approved of this suggestion, you know already. When I

went to Batavia I saw the Directress of the Girls' High School and she

said that she would do everything in her power to help me. This

cordiality from one who was almost a stranger, was very encouraging.

Unsought and unexpected, this offer of assistance was simply thrown into

my lap. I was in the clouds and thought that my departure for Batavia

was only a question of weeks, or at most, of months.

I have already told you that we are not rich; though Father has a large

income, at the same time, his expenditures are great, so that we have

only enough to live quietly and to give our boys (boys must be helped

before everything) to give the boys good educations.

I had also thought of the financial difficulties, and had made a plan so

that the expense of my studies would not be too great a burden. It would

cost my father twelve hundred florins for one year, a whole month's

income, and no small sum for a household as large as ours; so my

thoughts turned towards the medical school at Batavia, tuition in

medicine is free, at least for boys (there have never been any women

medical students). One can study medicine at the expense of the country.

The students receive free lodging, a monthly allowance to cover cost of

food and clothing, and there is free medical attendance.

When I was in Batavia I asked the Director of Education to which

department the school of medicine belonged, and if girls would be

admitted to it. Dr. A. had nothing against that, but naturally girls

would be special students. My idea was to ask the Government to admit me

upon the same footing as the men students. For every one with any brains

at all can see how useful a woman doctor would be, especially among the

women of the people, who usually would rather die than be touched by a

strange man.

If the chief of the department of Education would support my petition

there is no doubt but that the government would receive it favourably. I

have already thought much about the medical profession, the length of

time required for study alone disconcerts me. For one who is not yet

twenty, seven years of study does not seem so long; but for one who has

already passed that age, it is very long. And then as a full grown girl

to have to sit in the beginning day after day, between boys of from

thirteen to eighteen, and to be the only woman in a circle of men is not

pleasant. But these are minor difficulties, which I could force myself

to overcome.

There is still something else; Father and my friends are against it,

though fortunately not unconditionally. Father objects because I should

be the only girl among all those men and boys, such a thing would be

unheard of here--and my friends object because they are afraid that I

would not have the necessary nerve to go through with the studies.

Medicine is certainly a splendid calling, but not a profession for every

one; a strong will and perseverance are not enough, nerves of steel are

also a necessity. That is what worries my friends, so that they give me

no peace.

Father thinks that teaching would be the best profession for me, as do

also my friends in Batavia. They think that would be a suitable, fine

work for me, where I could spread my ideas broadcast among the younger

generation, the women and mothers of the future. As a teacher, even of a

little circle, there would be a direct influence exerted upon that

little circle, which would in time, widen and spread out so that many

would follow my example.

You know my love for literature; it is one of my dreams to be able to

accomplish something there. It is true one cannot serve two masters at

the same time, but I see no reason why if I were a teacher, after being

busy with the children all day, I could not work at literature at night.

I want to do only one thing at a time and do that well. _Entre ces deux

mon coeur balance!_ As a doctor or something else, perhaps I should not

have the opportunity to do that other work of which I am so fond,

scribbling with my pen.

But teaching, the bringing up of children, is something so earnest and

sacred in itself, that I should never be at peace if I attempted it, and

felt myself unable to do it well.

As a teacher of the domestic school, I should be with the children the

whole day, even in the evening and at night I should not be wholly free,

because the children would be under my care. Such a post would bring

with it heavy responsibilities and duties. Perhaps you think I am

exaggerating the difficulties and responsibilities; but I cannot look

upon it in any other way. To me it would be a crime to devote myself to

the bringing up of children, future carriers of civilization to the

race, and not to be fitted for that great task, which is so high and

holy in my eyes.

What do you desire for me, Stella? Which road would you most gladly see

me started upon? Tell me honestly and frankly what you really think. You

have already shown yourself a good true friend; here is another

opportunity.

There is still another profession open to us. A missionary doctor,

personally unknown to us, but of good name and established reputation,

has heard much of us from our friends and has offered of his own accord,

to train us, free of cost, to be accoucheuses.

You will certainly have heard of the great native assembly in

Modjowarno[2] in the residency of Soerabaja? The name of this missionary

doctor is known in connection with "Work of civilization in India," and

with the exhibition of women's work. You must know too that there is a

crying need for mid-wives here in India. Every year in Java and the

whole of Netherland-India, about twenty thousand women die in

child-birth, and there are on an average thirty thousand still-born

children; all from lack of intelligent care. In that direction there

certainly stretches out before us a broad field of usefulness where we

could be a blessing to our sisters.

We take a great interest in this cause, but it would be an untruth if we

said that it was one of our dreams to be accoucheuses. But it would be

one thousand times better to be mid-wives than to be dependent, held to

narrow household cares through a compulsory marriage.

We have father's permission to go to Modjowarno and study to be

accoucheuses when all other doors to independence shall have been closed

to us. He is strongly opposed to a work of personal service; he thinks

that kind of work would be degrading to our aristocratic hands. Our

friends, at first, deplored the idea too, but they put their objections

on such a noble, such a high plane! They thought that it would be hard

for us because we had other dreams and ambitions. But would our desire

to lighten the way and to be examples to others be reached in this

manner? Even in civilized Europe, the calling of mid-wife is looked down

upon, more or less. Would India with all its ceremony and form be able

to appreciate the beauty of the work? People here would only see its

humbleness; for everything that does not shine, is looked upon as of no

worth by my poor countrymen. You understand very well that we personally

would be indifferent to the lowliness of our calling; but the effect

which that would have, should not be a matter of indifference to us.

If we want to break the path to freedom and independence for the

Javanese woman, we must set a practical example. And a calling that is

looked down upon and considered degrading would not find a following,

and we want others to follow in our footsteps. Our example then must be

something that compels respect and inspires emulation. We have not only

our own wishes to consider, we must reckon with the prejudices and the

character of the people whom we wish to enlighten.

Lately in Holland, and especially at the Hague, there has been a growing

movement of interest in Indian art. The Association of "The East and

West," an offspring of the Exposition of Woman's work of which you must

know, has as one of its chief purposes, the encouragement of things

Indian. There is a special division for art, composed entirely of

artists of reputation.

They are planning to send an artist to India to help the cause of Indian

Art in general, but especially in its practical application, and to

protect it from the strange influences, above all those imported from

Europe, which would contaminate its true character.

I have already told you that Roekmini has a great love for painting, and

certainly some talent in that direction, and it is her desire to become

a painter. Of course study in Europe would be necessary and that alas,

is unattainable for her. Perhaps through our own efforts, we may be able

to help little sister to realize her dream. Could we not get into

communication with "East and West" and might not my sister by the help

of that association be enabled to study drawing and painting at the Art

academy at the Hague? Later she could return to Java and dedicate

herself wholly to the art of her own country.

If all our plans should suffer ship-wreck, then Roekmini will fit

herself to be an accoucheuse. She will become either an accoucheuse or a

painter, but whichever she does she will do well. In either case she

should study in Europe. In Holland she could take a full course in

obstetrics and could be of great service then to the future mothers of

her land.

The doctors here could only train her to be a mid-wife, who works under

the direction of a doctor. To our indolent people with their exalted

ideas, it would make a great difference whether an accoucheuse had been

trained here or in Europe. With a European diploma, she would not be

looked upon as degraded so much by her work and might still serve as an

example, and as a light to be followed. We are going to apply for an

appropriation from the government to pay for her education in Holland.

We hope for the assistance of Prof. Hector Treub in Amsterdam, and of

Dr. Stratz in the Hague, men who have already broken their lances many

times for the cause of obstetrics in India. Through ignorance of this

science, thousands of lives are needlessly sacrificed every year. In the

general assembly also, attention was called to this cause by Van Kol. It

is said that Kamerlid[3] is coming to India; I hope to see him and to

have an opportunity to speak with him; my brother knows him very well.

The Government here in India has already taken steps toward the

improvement of these sad conditions, of which I have spoken. In Java all

doctors who wish to charge themselves with the training of mid-wives

receive a monthly subsidy from the Government. The prospective mid-wives

receive an allowance during their apprenticeship to cover the cost of

board and other necessities, and after they have passed their

examinations they are also paid by the Government.

After she had completed her studies in Europe, sister Roekmini would

open a clinic in Java. There is only one fault to be found with the

teachings of the doctors that we have here; that is obscurity, because

it is impossible for the teachers to make themselves clearly understood

by the students, when they speak different languages. Almost without

exception, the doctors here have little or no command of our language.

Malay and usually very much broken Malay at that, is the language which

the doctors use towards the people. Hardly a single doctor speaks

Javanese, and so very few of the Javanese people understand and speak

Malay. The difficulties would fall away if some one with a thorough

knowledge of the native language would undertake the task of training.

Roekmini's birth will be of great help to her in this, for the natives

are very loyal to their nobles.

On the 24th of October, just two weeks after the interruption of this

letter I come back to it again. My card, sent meanwhile, will have told

you of the sad state in which we have been; happily that is now past.

As you know already, Roekmini has been dangerously ill; twice her life

seemed to hang upon a single thread. Now thank God, she is on the road

to recovery and grows each day a little stronger. Today she has been out

of doors.

I cannot tell you how happy and thankful we are that everything has gone

so well with her. Sister Kardinah, too, is on her feet again. She can

now take little walks and her poor thin cheeks are beginning to fill

out. We have certainly had our share of suffering.

It is now so unhealthy everywhere on account of the drought. Poor

country--so much hangs over you besides sickness. Many sawahs over the

whole country have been destroyed by the great drought. The suffering is

worse in the neighbouring town of Grobogan and we look toward Demak with

fear and anguish; there, twenty-six thousand sawahs have already been

destroyed and cholera is raging. The West Winds will soon come that

drown the land every year. Poor country! that after the East Winds,

dries up and perishes from drought, and after the West Winds, is drowned

with floods. But I shall write no more about this misery, but only tell

you what has happened during the last fourteen days.

Sister Kardinah also wishes to become a teacher, and has chosen as her

specialty domestic science and cooking. Our plan is to remain together

always and to work side by side for our common goal; the education of

our people.

If fate is propitious we shall open a school, in which instruction will

be given along broader lines than mere book education; it will include

lessons in handiwork, household arts and kindred subjects, and there

will also be classes in wood-carving and painting, and in mid-wifery.

But a course in domestic science can only be taken in Holland; there is

no opportunity here. Kleintje's forte is really music and her dearest

dream was and still is, to become a musician, but that is absolutely

impossible for her; so my little maid has resigned herself to the

inevitable.

She is so eager to work for our people, and a teacher of the household

arts could do a tremendous amount of good. More and more the Government

realizes what a great advantage it would be to the people and their

rulers, if they could learn economy.

We may appeal to the Government on behalf of Kleintje, and asked that

she be placed at a school where she could be qualified to teach domestic

economy. My little sister wishes to undertake the great task of teaching

the women and future mothers of Java economy and frugality.

Lately the Government has shown that it wishes to place a premium upon

education and enlightenment in its magistrates; this has been evinced by

the latest regents'[4] appointments. According to custom, regents have

been appointed by the law of heredity, from father to son, and if there

is no son available, then some near relative of the last regent is

appointed. It has never happened before that the new regent was no

connection at all; but the two newly appointed men are progressive and

enlightened and have been educated in Europe.

It is evident that the Government is in earnest in its endeavour to

civilize and educate the people of Java, and especially the classes from

which the Government servants are recruited.

The Heer Abendanon has said that there can be no argument against the

statement that the intellectual awakening of the native people cannot

progress appreciably as long as the woman is left behind in the forward

march. The education of woman has always been an important factor in

civilization.

In the last fifteen years, the Government of Netherland-India has sent

four young Javanese to Holland at its own expense, to be educated there

as teachers so that they may come back later to work for the good of

their fellow countrymen. The Government realized that their work would

have better results if they received their educations abroad. But the

desire to do this did not come of itself to these men; it was suggested

by those who had the awakening of India at heart.

With us it is different. In us the impulse, the longing to do something

for our people was born in our own hearts, from deeply rooted

conviction, and came through suffering, and through sympathy for the

suffering of others.

We are only waiting for Father's permission now. Forgive a father,

Stella, that he hesitates to give his children as hostages to an

uncertain future. As innovators, as pioneers, we must stand alone,

combat and overcome obstacles; our way will lead through much suffering

and discouragement, it is certain. And what parents would wish to see

their children zealous for suffering? What parents willingly see their

children voluntarily dedicate themselves to lives of struggle and

disappointment?

I do not know that I should go to Holland to study now, even if the

opportunity were offered me, though to go has always been one of my

greatest desires. Last year when it was suggested that I study at home I

set myself against the proposition with all my might. If I studied at

all, I wanted to study properly, and I could only do that in Holland or

at Batavia. And as Holland was beyond my reach, my head was set upon

Batavia.

I did not think I could study well at home, because I could not devote

my whole time to my books. At my time of life there would be too many

other claims upon me. Household and social duties would keep me too much

from my work, it would be impossible to eliminate them if I remained at

home. That was last year when Father was well and strong; now Father is

that no longer alas!

Forgive a daughter, Stella, if once when she might have had the

opportunity to fulfil her heart's wish, a wish upon which the future

well-being of many others also depended, she held back, because she had

not the heart to separate from a father who had given her love and care

her whole life long and whose feeble health now demanded more than ever

the care and affection which she alone could give.

Stella, I am a child, I am a daughter, not a woman alone, who can give

herself wholly, and dedicate herself to a great and beautiful work. I am

also a child bound by the bonds of tenderest love and gratitude to an

old grey father, who has grown old and grey through care for his

children. Of these children perhaps I am dearest.

Stella, you who know my great love for him, and next to that my love for

what I regard as our calling, who know the strength of my affection for

my sisters, will be able to understand what a hard conflict there is in

store for me. I must be separated from my sisters, away from the work

that I would do, or separated from Father, united with my sisters, and

giving my all to our calling.

Father is weak now, needs care, and my first duty is to him. Oh Stella,

I should never have a moment's peace if I carried on my own work far

away from Father, knowing that he was suffering and needed me.

The work which we would do is noble. It will not be only for the present

but for all time. Still I should never be able to answer to my own

conscience if I should neglect my old, grey father for any cause

whatever. He has the first right to me.

One of the precepts which I wish to inculcate is this: honour every

living creature, respects their rights, their feelings; and even when it

seems necessary, shrink from causing the least suffering to another.

Should I be able to teach others what I myself neglected in practice?

I must never forsake my duty as a child, but neither must I forsake the

duty which I owe to myself, for it is not my own happiness that depends

upon its realization but great good to others. The problem now is to try

and harmonize as far as possible these two duties which are

diametrically opposed to each other. The only solution seemed to be to

find some way by which I could stay with Father, and also go on with my

studies.

I am going to study here at home, and fit myself for the profession of

teaching, just as well as one can be fitted by self-study, when it is

supported by a strong will, and perseverance.

I had already thought of this plan, but Mevrouw Abendanon gave it the

impetus which pushed it forward, when she suggested some time ago that,

without waiting for further arbitraments of capricious fate, we three go

ahead and study here at home.

We have had a governess for two months; in her we have found a charming

and affectionate friend. She is still very young, a girl of strong

character who has left her family in the Fatherland and come here to

earn her daily bread.

It is only unfortunate that this miserable sickness has come; otherwise

we should be getting along famously. Naturally all this time I have not

been able to look at a book. Annie Glazer, that is our teacher's name,

has engagements which take her on some days, to another family here. But

as soon as she can arrange it, she will give her entire time to us or to

me alone most probably, for my poor sisters must not have anything in

their hands, and above all in their heads, just now. They feel very

miserable under the enforced idleness, but hands and heads are still

weak.

What do you think about all of these high flying plans? If only you do

not say, "Poor thing, you are trying to fly too high," I shall be

satisfied. Do you know what I have noticed among our friends? That they

have too high an opinion of us. They ascribe to us qualities and

abilities which we do not possess. Sometimes we have to laugh at their

enthusiasm. The saying that "Love is blind" is here applicable. You

should only hear some of the things of which they think us capable. We

feel our own limitations deeply, whenever our friends set us so in the

sun. We feel small, but we feel grateful too for the love of which it

speaks. One friend would be glad to see me work with my pen, for our

people. I must found a journal devoted to their needs, and must be its

editor, or I must become a writer on the foremost daily newspaper of

India and write articles, by which those who are now fast sleeping will

be frightened wide awake! Had I no reason for my assertion that "Love is

blind"?

And, now I must think of parting from my sisters, the idea is frightful

to them, and it is no less so to me. If they are successful in getting

that for which they are asking they will be far from us in a strange

land. It is fortunate that they have a brother there, who even as I,

loves the sisters from his soul. This brother is full of enthusiasm and

sympathy for our ideals, for in them he finds an echo of his own. We

have made a compact with him, that when he has completed his studies, he

will come back to us and we will work together.

It is an inspiration to us that he should share in the ideals of his

sisters, it lifts us up, draws us forward, just as does the great

sympathy and understanding which you have for us. There is still another

young man, European, who only knows us through his mother, but who

sympathizes with our cause and takes a lively interest in it. The

sympathy and understanding of friends even when we do not know them

personally, is a great support to us. We need this support very much.

You will always give me yours. Will you not, Stella?

[1] To Mejuffrouw Zeehandelaar.

[2] Modjowarno is the principal mission station in the eastern part of

Java.

[3] Member of the Chamber. (M.D.)

[4] "La société indigène est essentiellement aristocratique. Au-dessus

du bas peuple qui cultive le sol et n'a de plus grande ambition que

celle d'entrer au service du gouvernement de devenir fonctionnaire,

s'étage une aristocratie nombreuse dotée de privilèges et d'honneurs.

Cette aristocratie de naissance engourdie par sa situation privilégié

n'a pas su la conserver intacte, et les Hollandais qui se sont appuyés

sur elle pour gouverner, ont élevé à côté d'elle une aristocratie de

mérite donnant à des simples parvenues plus capable et plus instruits

les postes d'iniatives sinon d'apparant."--"Java et ses Habitants," by

A. Fabert, Annals des Sciences Politiques, Paris, 1900.

Letters of a Javanese Princess · 第 37 / 90 题