village, and the rattan-scourging which is the penalty of all those who for a moment might imagine that they were not beasts, not inanimate blocks of wood or stone; the penalty for him who, in a moment of madness, had believed that there was Justice in the land, and that the Assistant-Resident had the wish and the power to maintain that Justice. . . .
Was it not indeed better to prevent that man from returning the next day to the Assistant-Resident—in accordance with the latter’s message to him in the evening—and to stifle his complaint in the yellow waters of the Tjioodyoong, which would carry him gently out to sea, accustomed as they were to being the bearers of these fraternal offerings from the sharks of the interior to the sharks of the main?
And Havelaar knew all this! Does the reader feel what tortured his heart when reflecting that he was called to do justice, and that in this he was responsible to a higher power than that of a Government which, indeed, prescribed justice in its laws, but often preferred not to see it actually applied? Does the reader feel how he was tossed on the horns of doubt, not as to what it was his duty to do, but as to the manner in which he had to act?
He had started with gentleness. He had spoken to the Adhipatti as “elder brother”; and anyone who might think that I, prejudiced in favour of the hero of my story, perhaps unduly exalt the manner of his speech, should hear how once, after such an interview, the Regent sent him his Patteh[1] to thank him for the kindliness of his words, and how, long after this, the Patteh, in a conversation with the Controller Verbrugge (after Havelaar had ceased to be Assistant-Resident of Lebak, therefore when nothing more was either to be hoped or feared from him), at the remembrance of his words exclaimed, still deeply impressed: “Never yet has any lord spoken as he!”
Yes, he wished to help, to set right, to save, not to destroy! He felt pity for the Regent. He, who knew how financial need may
- ↑ Secretary, or factotum.
