_August 17th, 1902._[1]
Good morning; here comes sister to prattle to you again. It is a
splendid fresh morning, and I am sitting here in a cosy corner by the
window where I have a view of the garden. Another time I shall try and
describe all our surroundings to you. Our home, which is our doenia
(little world) and our cloister. Now however, I shall continue my talk
of yesterday. It is pathetic to see the joy of our elders over the
return of the strayed sheep.
Out of pure joy, an old woman here sent us her collection of books, old
Javanese manuscripts; many written in Arabic characters. We are going to
study Arabic so that we can read, and write it.
You know perhaps that Javanese books are very rare, and hard to find
because they are written with the hand. Only a few of them are printed.
We are reading now a lovely poem in the flower-tongue. How I wish that
you knew our language. I should be so glad if you could enjoy all our
fine things in the original. Have you any desire to learn the Javanese
language? It is difficult--certainly, but it is beautiful. It is a
sentient language; often the words seem to be conscious, they express so
much. We are astonished sometimes, own children as we are of the
country, at the cleverness of our fellow countrymen. Things of which one
could never imagine anything could be made, they express charmingly.
Name something in the dark, give out a subject at random, and a simple
Javanese will immediately make a rhyme that astonishes by its aptness
and clearness. This facility belongs peculiarly to our Eastern people.
It is a pity that when the precious gifts were meted out, your sisters
should have been neglected. That is not fishing for a compliment, we
mean it literally. As one can see, though one fairy gave us wit in
step-motherly wise, another sister fairy has made reparation by endowing
us richly with her gift of sensibility. I do not think so very much of
her gift myself, and we have to take good care that this virtue does not
degenerate into a vice. A certain amount of feeling is good; but you
will soon see, if you have not seen already, that it is often hard for
your sisters to keep themselves in the golden middle way. It is very
difficult for one who naturally goes to extremes. Now that you know all
my faults, here is a prayer: try to understand them. Help me to overcome
them. Will you not do that? Your sisters know of things in themselves
that are not good.
After having had days of rain, we went out one morning to see how our
flower children were getting along. We were afraid that they would have
suffered from the over-abundant rain, but we found our rose-bushes full
of green buds. The days came and the days went; our roses were full of
luxuriant leaves and of beautiful blossoms. Rain, rain, they needed it,
before they could bear those splendid blossoms.
Rain--rain--the soul needs it in order to grow and to blossom.
Now we know that our tears of today serve only to nourish the seed, from
which another, higher joy will bloom in the future.
Do not struggle, do not complain and curse sorrow when it comes to you.
It is right for sorrow to exist in the world too; it has its mission.
Bow your head submissively before suffering. It brings out the good that
is in the heart. But the same fire which purines gold, turns wood into
ashes.
Now I want to tell you how it was that we happened to get into touch
with Nellie Van Kol. Perhaps you have already read something about it in
the paper. One evening in the latter part of April, we had a visit from
the Heer Van Kol. He was sent to us by a Dutch lady, who has much
sympathy for the cause of your sisters. It was one of the most pleasant
meetings of our whole lives. Already, long ago, he had won our esteem
through what he has been to Java, and the Javanese. But the personal
meeting secured for him a place in our love. It is delightful to meet
superior people. It was a great occasion in our lives, when we met your
dear parents, it was a turning point for us; it waked us up to reality.
Before that we had only seemed to live, we had been asleep, always
sleeping and dreaming. Now we are alive, fighting and struggling,
hoping, despairing, suffering and rejoicing, weeping and laughing; that
is life. We have climbed to the heights of joy, and we have descended
into the depths of misery. I am happy just to be alive.
I have heard from your mother that you sympathize with our struggles and
ideas; and you have told us so yourself. So it will certainly please you
to know there are others who are interested in our cause; superior
people like Heer Van Kol and his wife.
We told the Heer Van Kol everything. It was to hear about our plans that
he had come, and he promised to support our endeavours with all his
might; just as your father has promised to do. Are you not glad that the
cause of your sisters has found a warm defender in Holland--in the
council halls of the country? He will do everything that he can to help
us. He asked us if we would not write to his wife; she would prove a
true, faithful advisor. He spoke of his wife with such love and respect
he called her his guide and his counsellor. It touched us to hear a
man--and such a man--speak so of a woman. Would that there were more
such men--who would see the highest in woman and honour her for it.
I did not let the grass grow under my feet; immediately after he had
left, I wrote to his wife. Was it instinct--I wonder! for when I was
writing to her I had no feeling at all that it was to an utter stranger,
which was the fact. It had been the same way, when I was talking to her
husband. As though she had been my mother, I blurted out without
reserve, just what I felt. It was easy to be frank with her husband, for
he was so modest, so friendly, met us so cordially, and was so fatherly
towards us. I am glad that I followed the voice of my heart and wrote at
once to Mevrouw Van Kol. We received a letter from her at once--and such
a letter! We feel ourselves rich in her sympathy. God has given us as a
gift, the heart of a true friend, and through that friend's heart, he
has found us himself. If I could only tell you how happy we are.
"We will find the right human friends, when we cease to seek for support
among men, but depend upon ourselves and upon our Father--God." We are
deeply grateful to Nellie for that. Again she says: "The loveliest and
best among us are but weak blundering creatures; nestle on your Father's
heart, he will heal your wounds and dry your tears."
In the days since I have begun this letter something very unpleasant has
happened. Before our acquaintance with Nellie, it would have plunged us
into despair, but now it is different. We do not seek consolation from
men--we hold fast to His hand, and then the darkness becomes light, and
the storm wind a gentle breeze.
We are not afraid, we are never afraid, wherever we may be, there is a
father that watches over us, who judges us with love. We are ready for
anything. For there is no light where darkness does not go before--the
dawn is born out of the night.
Now that we have found Him, our whole lives are changed, our work seems
nobler, higher. What do you think of all this, Edie?
I know one thing for certain, that you are glad for your sisters. I have
still other things to prattle about, and then I must let this letter go;
otherwise it will grow stale, and it is too long already. Perhaps it
seems very formidable to you. Honestly, tell me the truth? Candour must
be the basis of our friendship. Do not be afraid to tell me something
because it might give me pain, when you know that it would be wholesome
for me.
From you we did not expect anything else, but that you would not allow
the workmen under your orders to be beaten. We share to the fullest your
ideas in the matter. I cannot bear to see any one struck; it hurts me so
to see the beast in man, unfettered, hot tempered, the man made lower
than the beast.
We cannot understand how men, and even women, can go to see an
execution, it is worse than heartless. You know very well that
unfortunate convicts are often beaten with rods; they are cruel people
that willingly encourage the infliction of such punishment. It is bad in
the Javanese, but still worse in the European, when he so debases
himself. I have seen, a certainly not stupid, in fact a highly educated
European, at a festival of the people, let first a child, and after that
a woman, and a young girl, make the acquaintance of his stick in a most
frightful manner, because the blunderers had not been deft enough in
getting out of the great man's way. I ground my teeth together to keep
from crying out aloud; each blow pierced me through the soul.
It is not the idea of pain that makes me abhor bodily punishment, but
the deep humiliation that the victim must feel. And also the harm it
does to the one who punishes. Physical punishment embitters, but never
cures. That is our conviction.
As children of a ruler in a community where the idea is fast rooted that
a Randen Mas or a Raden Adjeng is absolutely a being of a higher order,
to whom a God-like reverence is due from the people, we have oftener
than we would, been among scenes that made us tremble with exasperation.
At such times we are struck dumb and stand still as death, we can
neither speak nor smile, indignation and pity hold our mouths fast
closed. An acquaintance of ours once said "We must do it well; how
otherwise will our little handful be able to keep peace and order among
thousands? Had they not been afraid of us, they would long ago have
hunted us from the land, and driven us into the sea."
Obedience through fear; when will the time come when the God-like rule,
which is called love, will penetrate millions and millions of hearts?
One thousand nine hundred and two years ago the beautiful law of love
was preached, but how many thousand years must pass before love will
come into its own? Not only among the elect, but among the multitudes?
Your mother knows the whole history of our lives. Has she ever told you
of our childhood years, when we lived under the despotic sway of older
brothers and sisters? Among us it is a law, the younger ones must submit
to the older in everything. That was not for sister Kartini; even in her
early years, the desire for freedom had awakened. The result was that I
was somewhat out of harmony with my older brothers and sisters, because
I submitted to them only when I saw a reason in what they thought good.
So I stood there a child of twelve years, alone against a hostile power.
Bitter, bitter tears were wept by us as children.
Do you know who has always been our friend, our help and our support?
Kartono. But most of the time he was not at home, he was at Semarang.
Our friendship is quite old you see; it goes back to our earliest youth.
My eldest sister married, my older brother went away, and then we began
a new life. The watchword was "Freedom, equality and fraternity." We
wished to be loved--not feared.
It is not a boast, but every one knows that our little ones would rather
be with us than with the others. Love is the bond which binds us
together. And how our little ones love us! They have taught us much.
Those who embittered our childish years, were also our teachers, for
they taught us to avoid being like themselves. Another proof that sorrow
justifies its existence.
Those who formerly opposed us, now come to us with love and friendship.
They do not tell us so in words, but deeds bear witness. In every
letter, our sister asks us to come and visit her. Our presence does
good, both to her and to her house, she says always.
God is great, God is powerful! Could not that bit of our life history,
become the life history of two peoples, of the Hollanders and of the
Javanese? Would it not be possible for nothing but mutual love and
respect to bind the Netherlands and Java together? How this happy state
of affairs has come about in our own family, I do not know; I protest, I
do not know. Many times the question has been asked us, but we only know
that we have much love in our hearts and that is the whole secret I
believe.
Now, best Brother, I hope sincerely that this long discourse will not
frighten you away from a further correspondence with your sisters. And
that you will take it as a proof of our good intentions, when we say
that we look upon you as our brother and our friend. We hope that many
letters from Sawah Loento with Japara as destination will be
forthcoming. Tell us about everything--your work--your life and your
environment.
It is a pity that photography is such a luxury, for we should be glad to
take some peeps, for the benefit of our friends, into typical Javanese
customs. We, as children of the country, can go everywhere here with a
freedom that would not be allowed to you.
[1] To Heer E.C. Abendanon.