You know that I am always glad to be able to do anything for you, and when you ask a favour of me, it is a joyful occasion. I am also glad to do what I can for "East and West." I feel that I am only doing myself a service, for it is for our people, and I and my people are one. So dispose of my time as you will, with a quiet mind, and do not be afraid that you will be asking too much of me. I only ask your forbearance when something that you have ordered does not come quickly enough.

I have talked with the goldsmith about going to Solo to learn to work in tortoisesh.e.l.l there. He is eager to go; already he can make little combs, he has the tools for that, but he does not understand polishing very well; he could learn that at Solo. He is also anxious to learn to work in horn and mother of pearl. That too could be learned there.

But the revival of our art is just beginning and naturally all of these things cannot be done at once. I have had a pleasant letter from Dr.

Pijzel, one of the editors of _Eigen Haard_. I also received some copies of my article on wood-carving. The ill.u.s.trations are reproduced beautifully. Do you not think so? I have one set of them made on very fine paper. Do you know what I think so splendid? That the very first time that I write for the public under my own name, "Moedertje" should introduce me. Though it is even as pleasant that the little article should be in demand. We have heard that in the Minaha.s.sa, a native girl has "crazy" ideas just as we have. You see we are not the only simpletons. If the n.o.bles here disdain us, and we are rejected by the people too, then we can fly away and seek that sister soul. Far away from the whirl of the markets, in some forgotten place, together we will find work for the head, the heart and the hand. In the great wide world somewhere there must be a place for us.

My eldest sister has been here, but she went away yesterday, not back to Kendal, but to Koedoes to visit her mother-in-law and to try to arouse the latter's interest in our cause. Some one goes now to plead for us, who herself once bitterly opposed us. When she was coming here, we did not plan an elaborate speech that would soften her heart. We talked to her simply, just as we felt, and it was sweet and strange when our sister with moist eyes said tremulously "Good, may you carry out your plans and meet with success. I shall pray G.o.d to bless you."

We asked her, "Will you still cling to us if others revile us and condemn us?"

And she answered, "Even the loudest talkers will be silent some day."

Sister thinks that her mother-in-law will help us, and that her husband too will have sympathy for us.

But how are things here at home? Formerly we must never speak to others about the subject nearest our hearts, now they bring it up themselves.

We talked not long ago with a stranger about several things. My heart beat with joy and happiness when I saw Father standing next to me the whole time. "I am his child in spirit too," sang my heart! Father invited the stranger to come here so that we could exchange our thoughts and ideas. He thought it would be good for us. Oh is my dream to really become reality? Are we going on our way with our parents' full blessing?

Before we had an opportunity to write to the Heer Sijthoff, we received a very cordial letter from him last week, reproaching us for our obstinacy. A few lines further on, he declared that we had forced his respect and promised to give us his support. When we need it, we have only to ask him.

[1] To Dr. Abendanon.

[2] Blanda: European.

[3] Those who live pious lives and scrupulously observe all forms of religion. A student of theology.

[4] Boys who herd buffaloes.

LVIII

_March 4th, 1903._[1]

I have been laid low by sickness; for days they watched over me anxiously--I was in the most frightful pain. Thank G.o.d, that is now behind me. And the suffering is a thing of the past. I was freed from my pain by such a strange remedy; we have preserved it and given it to all of our family. Later, it may do our children good.

Yesterday I began work again. And today for the first time, I went driving. Father's pleasure was touching. Naturally I sat next to him, and he held on to me tightly as if he were afraid of losing me. It was a delightful hour, the precious memory of which will be with me always.

[1] To Mevrouw Abendanon.

LIX

_March 9th, 1903._[1]

We have received word that the tortoisesh.e.l.l will be here before many days. And then the goldsmith will go with it to Solo. Now all three branches of the artistic industry of my birth place are growing and thriving. And we are still looking for others that can be spurred back into life. The people know that our aim is their well-being, and they show their appreciation by working with eagerness and enthusiasm. I am thankful that they understand that we have their good always before our eyes; otherwise everything that we might do for them would be useless.

It is splendid to see life waking and stirring around us. They are beginning to grow vegetables on a large scale, even in the Kampong, around the Malay camp. Everything goes so well. The goldsmith has taken more boys as apprentices, and there are some clever youths that want to be educated for the wood-carving trade also. I have noted one thing with great pleasure; among the apprentices, there is a boy from the kota, and consequently not a child of Blakang-Goenoeng, the wood-carving village.

We have to seek out other apprentices, but this boy from the kota came of himself and asked us to take him.

The little ones here will carry on our work when we are gone. We can lead them from a distance so long as they need leading.

Some one complained to us about ingrat.i.tude, among our inferiors. We told him that if he were distressed at the ingrat.i.tude of the people, it was his own fault.

He looked at us with his great eyes and said; "My fault, when people are ungrateful to me?"

"Yes, your fault, when you allow yourself to be distressed by it. For we must never do good with the thought of grat.i.tude before our eyes. We must do good, simply because it is good, and because only in so doing will we fulfil ourselves." I believe that to be happy ourselves, and to make others happy, we must understand. The more we understand the less bitterness we feel, and the easier it is to be just.

He asked us too, "What would happen if you should meet some one in whose presence your heart would beat?"

"I should be happy and thankful because that would indicate that I had met a companion soul, and the more companion souls we find, the better it is for our cause, and that of those whom we love."

"You will never meet a companion soul."

That was said forcefully. What did he mean? Does he place our men too low--or me undeservedly high. If he but knew, I had just received an enthusiastic letter from a young--and to me unknown--companion soul. I shall send the letter to you. It is from a student of the Native Artisans school. A spontaneous expression of sympathy about the article that appeared in _Eigen Haard_ which you induced me to write. It is so like a young boy--young in its glowing enthusiasm, but through it a spirit speaks that is far from commonplace; there is candour in every line.

That is a luxury which writers can enjoy, unknown people feel that they are friends when they strike a sympathetic chord. I love to think that it was you who induced me to make my own name known to the public, and such an introduction from one whom I admire deeply is like a benediction.

If that article has met with success, I attribute it to the fact that it first saw the light through your hands. There were many things that had to be included in that introduction, but in none of them did it miss its mark. Its success has meant much to our artists, and since its appearance many questions have come to me about our wood-carving.

[1] To Mevrouw Abendanon.

LX

_April 25th, 1903._[1]

It is stupid and unpardonable that we did not write to you as soon as the great decision was made; that we were not to eat the fruit of the n.o.ble work which you and others have done for us. No one could be more surprised at this determination than we ourselves. We had been prepared for anything, but we had never expected that we would say of our own free will "We want to stay." But do not think of us, think of the cause and what will be best for that; it is there we must rest our case.

Do not think that our feelings have changed, they have not. When our request was on the way to the Governor General, we believed firmly that for the sake of our future pupils, education in Europe was an absolute necessity. But after that another truth was impressed upon us: "At this time, it would be far better for the cause if we remained in India."

You know that it is our dearest wish to complete our educations in Europe. Can you realize what it will cost us to give up the idea on the very eve of its realization? We have been through a terrible struggle.

But we threw aside our own desires, when we found that the cause could be served best in a different way. We saw this as soon as we ceased to think of ourselves, but only of our cause.

The people for whom we wish to work, must learn to know us. If we went away, we should become as strangers to them. And when after some years, we came back, they would see in us only European women. If the people do not like to trust their daughters to European women, how much less would they be willing to trust them to those who were worse in their eyes, Javanese turned European.

Our aim is our people; and if they should be set against us, of what good would the help of the Government be? We ought to strike as quickly as possible, and place before the public as an accomplished fact a school for native girls. Just now they are talking about us, and we are known over the whole of Java. We must strike while the iron is hot. If we went away, interest would grow luke-warm and after a time dwindle away altogether. Now we can make ourselves personally known to our people. Seek to win their sympathy, teach them to trust us. If we had their sympathy and their trust then we should be at peace.

We have not entirely given up the idea of going to Holland, Stella. We could still go, always, and if we should go from Batavia, it would be better than from here. Our parents would then be accustomed to having us at a distance, and after they had once gotten used to the idea, it would not be so hard for them, if the distance were made greater.