LETTERS OF A JAVANESE PRINCESS
still as free and unrestrained before us as though there were no such thing as rank or difference of degree.
The day before yesterday the djaksa of Karimoan Djawa[1] brought a daughter to me. Picture it Moeske, they send their daughters away from home, and let them eat with us here in a strange place.
Yesterday, a young mother came to me in great distress; she said that she lived too far away, if it were not so, she would be so glad to come and study with us herself. As that cannot be, she wants to provide for her little daughter, the education which she has not had the opportunity to gain. Her child is not yet a year old; as soon as she is six years old, her mother will send her to us, wherever we may be.
The children come here four days in the week, from eight to half past twelve. They study, writing, reading, handiwork and cooking. We teachers do not give lessons in art unless the pupils show a special aptitude for it.
Our school must not have the air of a school, or we that of school-mistresses. It must be like a great household of which we are the mothers. We will try and teach them love as we understand it, by word and deed.
In our own youth, we were guided by that simple precept which is universally understood: "Do not unto others what you do not wish done unto yourself.'"
Mevrouw Van Kol has told us much of your Jesus, and of the apostles Peter and Paul.
Of whatever belief or race a man may be, a great soul is a great soul—a noble character, a noble character. I have read "Quo Vadis," and I have been thrilled with admiration for the martyrs to their faith, who amid the bitterest suffering, still looked faithfully and trustingly to-
- ↑ A group of islands off the coast of Japara.
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