You must have thought it ungracious of me to remain silent for so long after your charming letter and your goodness in sending the dear kiekje, which I have enjoyed so much. The silence has not been from lack of appreciation, but because the one wholly sound Kartini had all of her time taken up with the little sick sisters. It was so warm, it was not hard to exaggerate a little indisposition, so that we could not help spoiling our invalids. Just now one of the pairs of eyes which I have seen so troubled, peeped over my shoulder and read this. Child, child, what do you gain by it? The children will never hear any praise from me, I assure you. But what am I doing now—speaking ill of my dear little sisters?
Nothing is impossible in this world. What we look upon today as an impossibility, tomorrow may be an accomplished fact.
There is a restlessness in our native civilization, the spirit of progress is moving among us. It is strongly combated by the inherent love which the Javanese has for the ancient "laws." There will be a hard fight before these hoary ideas and customs shall be deeply buried in the ground, never again to rise.
[1] To Mevrouw H.G. de Booij-Boissevain.
XXIII
August, 1901.[1]
I should be so glad, so happy, if I could be in a position to lead children's hearts, to form little characters, to awaken young minds, to help to mould the women of the future who will be able to carry forward enlightenment like a torch. There is much misery in our Javanese woman's world, there has always been so much suffering, so much bitterness.
The only road which lies open to a Javanese girl, and above all to one of noble birth, is marriage.