That those in power in Washington contemplate independence must be admitted, unless those who speak for the administration intend gross deception. In his speech on the evening of Rizal Day, December last, General Smith, one of the Philippine commission and head of the educational department,[4 - General Smith has since been made the president of the Philippine commission.] said: "Popular self-government for the Philippines is the purpose of both people. If either seeks to achieve it independent of the other, the experiment is doomed to failure. If both work for it harmoniously there is no reason why it should not be accomplished. If it is accomplished, the history of the Philippines will hold no brighter page than that which recites the struggle of a simple people to fit themselves for independent government. If it is accomplished, the fairest page in American history will be that which records the creation of a new nation and the unselfish development of an alien race." If this is not a promise of ultimate independence, what possible meaning can the language have? If the administration does not intend that the Filipinos shall some day be independent, its representatives should not hold out this hope.
But there is even higher authority for the hope of independence. When the so-called "Taft Party" visited the Philippines last summer, Secretary Taft made a speech in which he assumed to speak for the president. Referring to the president's opinion, he said: "He believes, as I believe and as do most Americans who have had great familiarity with the facts, that it is absolutely impossible to hope that the lessons which it is the duty of the United States to teach the whole Filipino people, can be learned by them, as a body, in less than a generation; and that the probability is that it will take a longer period in which to render them capable of establishing and maintaining a stable independent government."
This, it is true, states when independence cannot be hoped for, rather than when it can be hoped for, and yet, no honest man would use the language Secretary Taft employed without having in his mind the idea that independence would be granted at some future date. But his concluding words even more clearly present the hope of ultimate independence, for he says: "All that can be asserted is that the policy which has several times been authoritatively stated, that this Filipino government shall be carried on solely for the benefit of the Filipino people and that self-government shall be extended to the Filipino people, as speedily as they show themselves fitted to assume and exercise it, must be pursued consistently by the people of the United States or else they shall forfeit their honor."
Here Secretary Taft pledges the American government as far as he has power to pledge it – and he pledges the president also – to extend self-government to the Filipinos as rapidly as they show themselves fitted for it. The great trouble about these utterances and similar ones is that they are not binding upon the government, and the Filipinos are constantly disturbed by doubts and fears. Both at Manila and in the United States ridicule is often cast upon the aspirations of the Filipino people, and plans are made which are inconsistent with ultimate independence. The attempt on the part of the commission to issue perpetual franchises is naturally, and I think rightfully, opposed by all Filipinos. If our occupation is to be temporary, why should our legislation be permanent? Why bind the ward in perpetuity so that he cannot control his own affairs when he reaches years of maturity? What is needed is an immediate declaration of the nation's purpose to recognize the independence of the Filipinos when a stable government is established. It is not necessary that a definite time shall be stated, nor is it so important just when the Filipinos are to have their independence, as it is that the nation's purpose shall be made known in an authoritative way and that the subsequent acts of our government shall be in harmony with that declaration. I believe that a stable government can be established within a short time and that independence could be granted with advantage to our government and with safety to the Filipinos within five years at the farthest. But whether independence is to be granted in five or ten or fifteen years or after a longer period, there should be no longer delay about announcing a policy. I have tried to impress upon the Filipinos the necessity of leaving this question to the people of the United States and the importance of proving in every possible way the virtues, the character and the progress of the people; I have pointed out the folly of insurrection and the damage done to their cause by resorting to force of arms, but I am equally anxious to impress upon my own countrymen the importance of dealing frankly and fairly with the Filipinos.
We have more at stake in this matter than have the Filipinos. They still have their national greatness to achieve; our position is already established. We have the greatest republic known to history; we are the foremost champion of the doctrine of self-government and one of the leading exponents of Christianity. We can afford, aye our honor requires us, to be candid with the Filipinos and to take them into our confidence. We dare not make them victims of commercial greed or use their islands for purely selfish purposes. It is high time to announce a purpose that shall be righteous and to carry out that purpose by means that shall be honorable. In my next article I shall endeavor to elaborate a plan which will, in my judgment, bring independence to the Filipinos, relieve us of the expense of colonialism, secure us every legitimate advantage which could be expected from a permanent occupation of the islands and, in addition, enable our nation to set the world an example in dealing with tropical races.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE PHILIPPINE PROBLEM – Continued
In speaking of the Philippine independence I have presented some of the reasons given by Filipinos for desiring it, but there are arguments which ought to appeal especially to Americans. If it were our duty to maintain a colonial policy, no argument could be made against it, because duties are imperative and never conflict. If, on the other hand the Filipinos desire independence and are capable of self-government, we cannot justify the retention of the islands unless we are prepared to put our own interests above theirs, and even then we must be satisfied that our interests will be advanced by a colonial policy.
In the beginning of the controversy there were many who believed that the Philippine Islands would become a source of profit to the United States. It was confidently predicted that a multitude of Americans would flock to the islands and find rich reward in the development of their resources. These hopes have not been realized. Except in Mindanao, of which I shall speak later, there is no evidence of any present or future colonization by Americans. There are a few Americans engaged in business in Manila and at other army posts, but these are insignificant in number and the business done by them is nothing as compared with the cost of colonialism to the United States. We are maintaining about twelve thousand American soldiers in the island and five thousand native scouts, officered by Americans and paid for by the United States. Besides this outlay for the army, our Philippine policy has been made the excuse for a large increase in our naval expenditures. While it is difficult to determine accurately the annual cost of our Philippine policy to the people of the United States, it is safe to say that it exceeds the value of all the merchandise that we export to the Philippine Islands and all the money made by Americans in the islands, including salaries paid to Americans from taxes collected in the Philippines – and the expenses are borne by all the people while the benefits are received by a mere handful. No one, therefore, can justify the holding of the Philippines on the ground that they are a pecuniary advantage.
If it is argued that we need the Philippine Islands as a base for the extension of our trade in the Orient, I answer that it is not necessary to deny the Filipinos independence in order to hold a sufficient number of harbors and coaling stations to answer all the requirements of trade. The Filipinos are not only anxious to have the advantage of our protection, but they recognize that to protect them we must have harbors and a naval base. In return for the services we have rendered them we have a right to ask, and they would gladly grant, such reservations as we need. These reservations could be properly fortified and would furnish coaling stations both for our navy and for our merchant marine. It goes without saying that in case we had war with an oriental nation, it would be infinitely better to have the Filipinos supporting us, in their own interest as well as out of gratitude, than to have them awaiting an opportunity for insurrection.
I have already referred to the danger which may come to the principle of self-government in the United States from the systematic denial of self-government to the Filipinos. As our officials can only explain their continued presence in the Philippines by alleging incapacity in the Filipinos, they find themselves unconsciously surrendering the governmental theories which were until recently universally accepted in our country. We cannot overlook the influence that these changed opinions may have upon the politics of our own country if a colonial policy is indefinitely continued.
Neither can we ignore the fact that our prestige as a teacher of the principles of republican government must be impaired if we hold colonies under the law of force and defend ourselves by using the arguments employed by kings and emperors as an excuse for denying self-government to their own people. We cannot preach that governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed and at the same time adopt a different principle in practice.
It is worth while also to remember that foreign service is more or less demoralizing to our troops. Our soldiers are good, average men, but all men are more or less influenced by environment, and our soldiers cannot be expected to maintain as high a standard of morality when far away from home and the influences of home, as when their good purposes are strengthened by the presence of mothers, sisters and friends. The hospital records show the extent to which our soldiers yield to the temptations which surround the post, and the saloons that follow our army speak forcibly of the dangers which attend foreign service. Can we afford to subject the morals of our young men to such severe tests unless there is some national gain commensurate with the loss?
If our nation would at once declare its intention to treat the Filipinos living north of Mindanao as it treated the Cubans, and then proceed, first, to establish a stable government, patterned after our own; second, to convert that government into a native government by the substitution of Filipino for American officials as rapidly as possible; third, to grant independence to the Filipinos, reserving such harbors and naval stations as may be thought necessary; and, fourth, to announce its purpose to protect the Filipinos from outside interferences while they work out their destiny – if our nation would do this, it would save a large annual expense, protect its trade interests, gratify the just ambition of the Filipinos for national existence and repeat the moral victory won in Cuba.
In return for protection from without, the Filipinos would agree, as the Cubans did, that in their dealings with other nations they would not embarrass us.
The reservations retained could be converted into centers for the extension of American influence and American ideals, and our nation would increase its importance as a real world power. Unless our religion and our philosophy are entirely wrong, moral forces are more permanent and, in the end, more potent than physical force, and our nation has an opportunity to prove that a nation's greatness, like the greatness of an individual, is measured by service. It also has an opportunity to prove that the Oriental can be led by advice and improved by example and does not need to be coerced by military power.
Our reservations ought to contain model schools, with a central college, experimental farms and institutions in which the people could be trained in the arts and industries most suited to the natural resources of the country. Our nation is unfitted by history and by tradition to exploit the tropical countries according to the methods employed by the monarchies of Europe. To hold people in subjection requires a large military expenditure; if we were to attempt to make our own people bear such a burden, they would soon protest; if we were to make the Filipinos bear it, it would crush them. The Filipinos would resist such a policy, if employed by us, more bitterly than if it were employed by a European country, because they have learned from us the lessons of liberty. Subject peoples are not willing laborers, and our country would not endorse a system of compulsory labor. Education, too, is inconsistent with a permanent colonial system and cannot be carried far without danger to the ruling power.
We must choose, therefore, between two policies, and the sooner the choice is made, the better. As we cannot adopt the European policy without a radical departure from our ideals, and ultimately from our form of government at home, we are virtually forced to adopt a plan distinctly American – a plan in which advice, example and helpfulness shall be employed as means of reaching the native heart. Some of the European nations have been content to seize land and develop it with European capital and Chinese labor; our plan must be to develop the natives themselves by showing them better methods and by opening before them a wider horizon. At our reservations there would be religious freedom, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, self-government and public instruction for all, and every uplifting influence would have free play. If we believe that right makes might and that truth has within itself a propagating power, we cannot doubt the spread of American civilization from these American centers.
While the Philippine Islands are under American authority, the government ought to be administered for the benefit of the Filipinos, in accordance with Secretary Taft's promise. If they are to be subject to our tariff laws when they buy of other nations, they ought to have free trade with us, but the Philippine Islands are so far from us that it would be more just to allow the Philippine tariff to be made by the Philippine assembly soon to be established. The Filipinos belong to the Orient and their dealings must be largely with the countries of the Orient; unless they are in a position to have their tariff laws conform to their geographical position, there must necessarily be friction and injustice.
So important are geographical considerations that Americans who see fit to take up their residence upon such reservation as we retain for harbors, coaling stations and a naval base ought to be freed from the fetters of our tariff laws and shipping laws. I even venture to suggest the creation of an Oriental territory, to be composed of such stations and reservations as we may now have or hereafter acquire in the Orient. This territory should have a delegate in congress like other territories, but should be freed by constitutional amendment from our tariff laws and permitted to legislate for itself upon the subject. It could thus establish free ports, if it chose, and give to its people the trade advantages enjoyed by those who live in Hong Kong, Singapore and other open ports.
In what I have said about independence and self-government in the Philippines, I have been speaking of Luzon and the other islands north of Mindanao. As I have already pointed out, the conditions existing in Mindanao and the Sulu archipelago are so different from those existing in the northern islands that the two groups should be dealt with separately. It would not be fair to deny independence to the Christian Filipinos living in the north merely because the Moros have never shown any desire to adopt a republican form of government. (They live under a sort of feudal system, with sultan and datu as the ruling lords.)
But while the work of establishing a stable government among the Moros is a more difficult one and will proceed more slowly, the same principles should govern it. The Moros have furnished a great many pirates for the southern seas, and the influence of the adventurer and free-booter is still felt in Moroland. Then, too, they have an unpleasant way of killing Christians, on the theory that by doing so they not only insure an entrance into heaven, but earn the right to four wives in their celestial home. Occasionally a Moro takes an oath to die killing Christians (he is called a juramentado), and after a season of fasting and prayer, and generally with shaven eyebrows, he goes forth to slay until he himself is slain. Besides those who deliberately take human life by retail or by wholesale, there are religious fanatics who act under frenzy. All in all, the Moro country is far below the northern islands in civilization whether the civilization is measured by a material, an intellectual, a political or a moral standard. But even among the Moros I believe it is possible to introduce American ideas. Already some progress is being made in the establishment of schools, and Governor Findley has succeeded in interesting the natives in exchanges where trade is carried on according to American methods. While polygamy is still permitted, slavery is being exterminated and the natives are being shown the advantage of free labor. I believe that even among them our work can be advanced by assuring them of ultimate independence, to be granted as soon as a government is established capable of maintaining order and enforcing law. By educating young Moros and then using them in official position, we can convince the Moros of the sincerity of our friendship, and these officials will exert an increasing influence for good. In the meantime, we should establish experimental stations and by the use of native labor train the people to make the best use of the resources of their country. I believe General Wood is already planning for an experimental farm near Zamboanga.
While the Moros are a fierce people and accustomed to bloodshed, they have enough good qualities to show the possibility of improvement. They are a temperate people, abstaining entirely from intoxicating liquors, and while they practice polygamy and add concubinage to plurality of wives, they carefully guard the chastity of their women. They have their system of laws, with courts for the investigation of criminal charges and for the imposition of fines. The existing code in the Sulu archipelago, while lamentably below our penal code, shows a desire for the establishment of justice between man and man. Dr. Saleeby has published a translation of the existing code, together with the code (not yet adopted) prepared by the present prime minister of the sultan, and a comparison of the two shows distinctly that American influence is already being felt.
While I do not believe that any large number of Americans can be induced to settle permanently in Mindanao (and Mindanao seems to be the most inviting place), there will be ample time to test this question while a government is being established among the Moros. It is more likely that the waste lands will be settled upon by immigrants from the northern islands and that in time the Christian Filipinos will be sufficiently numerous to control the islands, and they can then be annexed to the northern group.
The leaven of American ideas is already spreading. At Zamboanga we met Datu Mandi, who has adopted the American dress and opened one of his buildings for a Moro school for girls. He is manifesting an increasing interest in the American work. Datu Mandi's brother was one of the Moros taken to the World's Fair and he, too, has abandoned the native dress. I have already referred to the desire expressed by Datu Piang to have his sons attend school in America. This is a good sign, and money spent in educating them would reduce military expenditures in that part of the island. The sultan of Sulu also wants to visit America, and a trip would do him more good than a year's salary. As soon as we convince these people that our purpose is an unselfish one, they will become willing pupils, and in the course of time they will find the home more congenial than the harem and the ways of peace more pleasant than the war path.
While our plans should be unselfish, they would probably prove profitable in the end, for friends are better customers than enemies, and our trade is apt to develop in proportion as we teach the natives to live as we do. When Solomon came to the throne, instead of choosing riches or long life, he asked for wisdom that he might govern his people aright, and he received not only wisdom, but the riches and the length of days which he had regarded as less important. May we not expect a similar reward if we choose the better part and put the welfare of the natives above our own gain?
After all, the test question is, have we "faith in the wisdom of doing right?" Are we willing to trust the conscience and moral sense of those whom we desire to aid?
Individuals have put Christianity to the test and have convinced themselves that benevolence, unarmed, is mightier than selfishness equipped with sword and mail, but nations have as yet seldom ventured to embody the spirit of the Nazarene in their foreign policy. Is it not an opportune time for our nation to make the trial? Our president has recently been hailed as a peacemaker because he took the initiative in terminating a great war, but this involved no sacrifice upon our part. May we not win a greater victory by proving our disinterested concern for the welfare of a people separated from us not only by vast waters but by race, by language and by color?
Carlyle in concluding his history of the French revolution declared that thought is stronger than artillery parks and that back of every great thought is love. This is a lofty platform, but not too lofty for the United States of America.
CHAPTER XVIII.
JAVA – THE BEAUTIFUL
We had not thought of visiting Java, but we heard so much of it from returning tourists as we journeyed through Japan, China and the Philippines, that we turned aside from Singapore and devoted two weeks to a trip through the island. Steamers run to both Batavia (which is the capital and the metropolis of the western end of the island) and Soerabaja, the chief city of eastern Java, and a railroad about four hundred miles long connects these two cities. A tour of the islands can thus be made in from ten to fifteen days, according to connections, but unless one is pressed for time, he can profitably employ a month or more in this little island, attractive by nature and made still more beautiful by the hand of man. There are excellent hotels at the principal stopping places, and the rates are more moderate than we have found elsewhere in the Orient.
The lover of mountain scenery finds much in Java to satisfy the eye. The railroad from Batavia to Soerabaja twice crosses the range, and as the trains run only in the day time, one can, without leaving the cars, see every variety of tropical growth, from swamp to mountain top, from cocoanut groves and rice fields on the low land to the tea gardens and coffee plantations of the higher altitudes, not to speak of mountain streams, gorges and forests.
Java is the home of the volcano and contains more of these fiery reservoirs than any other area on the earth's surface. While only about six hundred miles in length and from sixty to a hundred and twenty miles in width, it has, according to Wallace, thirty-eight volcanoes, some of them still smoking and all of them interesting relics of a period when the whole island was deluged with molten lava. Some assert that almost all of Java has been built up by the eruptions of volcanoes. Two extinct volcanoes, Salak and Gedah, can be seen from Buitenzorg, and from the top of Boro Boedoer temple nine volcanoes can be counted when the air is clear – at least Groneman so declares in his description of this temple, although not so many were visible the day we visited there.
It is only twenty-three years ago that Krakatau, which stands upon an island of the same name in the Strait of Sunda, just off the east end of Java, startled the world with an eruption seldom equaled in history. It began smoking in May, 1883, and continued active until the 26th of August following, when explosions took place which were heard at Batavia, eighty miles distant, and the next day the explosions were still more gigantic, being audible two thousand miles away. The loss of life caused by the mud and ashes and by the waves set in motion by the eruption was officially estimated at over thirty-six thousand. Various scientific societies, especially of Holland, England and France, made exhaustive reports on the Krakatau eruption. The Royal Society of Great Britain estimated that the volume of smoke arose to a height of seventeen miles and that several cubic miles of mud, lava and stones poured forth from the crater to the ruin of a large area. At one place the water rose more than seventy-five feet and threw a steamship over the harbor-head into a Chinese market; but under the influence of a tropical sun and abundant moisture the slopes of the volcano soon grew green again, and now the natives speed their skiffs through the adjacent waters and the inhabitants of this volcanic belt live and move with little thought of the mighty forces which have so often demonstrated their powers in the archipelago.
If one is interested in the study of trees, plants and flowers he can employ himself indefinitely in the famous botanical garden in Buitenzorg. While Batavia is the normal capital of Netherlands India, the governor general lives at Buitenzorg – a city built on a mountain slope forty miles from Batavia, where an altitude of some seven hundred feet gives an average temperature of eight degrees below that of the sea level. The botanical garden surrounds the palace and for nearly a century the authorities have been collecting specimens of the flora of the tropics.
The present superintendent of the garden, Herr Wigman, is an enthusiast in his line, and we are indebted to him for a most enjoyable tour through the garden. The main entrance leads through an avenue of gigantic kanari trees, set some forty feet apart and forming a verdant roof that entirely excludes the sun. The officials believe that they have made this the most attractive driveway in the world, and so far as my observation goes, they are justified in their claim. Climbing vines of every variety have been trained upon these trees until their enormous trunks stand like so many columns draped in living green. One climbing vine, with a trunk which one would mistake for a tree if it stood alone, has festooned a row of trees three hundred feet long and is still reaching out for new conquests. Herr Wigman shows this monster vine with pardonable pride, but he has found on his visits to Europe that he could not give a truthful description of it without endangering his reputation for veracity. We saw, here, also, rattan vines of seemingly endless length, hanging from lofty limbs or coiling on the ground like a colony of serpents. A specialty has been made of orchids, as is evidenced by a collection of between two and three thousand varieties. Some of these are remarkable for their curious and variegated leaves, others for the beauty and delicacy of the flowers. We were shown three kinds of pitcher plants; one kind is fashioned like a rat trap, the tiny spines pointing downward so that the insect can enter but can not escape until the flower withers; another drowns his victims in a syrup-like water; while a third poisons the unlucky prisoners lured into the recesses of the blossoms. Several plants growing on tree trunks have porous bulbs which seem to be designed for ant houses; at any rate the ants are always found in them. By an admirable reciprocity the ants pay their house rent by protecting the plants from other insects. Some of the European nations have defended their occupation of Oriental countries on the same theory, viz., that they give protection in exchange for a domicile, but there is no evidence that the ant lives on the plant, while colonialism is always a burden to the natives.
In the botanical garden, as elsewhere in the island, are to be found all varieties of the palm – the royal palm, than which there is no more ornamental tree, the cocoanut palm, with its myriad uses, the sugar palm, the sago palm, the oil palm, the betel-nut palm, which furnishes the Malay a substitute for chewing tobacco, the nipa palm, so helpful in building, the fan palm, etc., etc.
Nature has been prodigal in her gifts to the people of the tropics, and besides giving plant life in confusing abundance, her generosity is shown in a number of trees, each of which can be put to many uses. Reference was made to the bamboo in one of the articles on Japan, but the Javanese have not only the bamboo, but the palm as well, and from this one tree they could build their houses (though the bamboo is usually used for frames and floors because it is lighter, the trunk of the palm might be employed) and secure food, drink and light, and in addition, a fermented liquor and a narcotic.
The lakes and pools of the Buitenzorg garden teem with lotus and water lilies of many colors. One variety, brought from New Guinea, has blue flowers of various shades and is as yet unknown in Europe and America. One water lily has enormous flat, circular leaves with the edges turned up like a pie pan. Some of these leaves are four feet in diameter, and an imaginative writer has pictured them as frying pans on which the natives bake hot cakes.
The papyrus, from which the ancient Egyptians made their paper, grows here, though it is no longer found in Egypt. Here, too, are flowering trees and shrubs of many kinds, one whose pods are so exactly like tallow candles that it is called the candle tree. But it would occupy more space than I have at my disposal to give an adequate description of the beauties of the garden, with its mighty banyan trees, its waving palms, its graceful bamboos, its odorous sandalwood and tangled vines, its rose garden, its depth of shade and wealth of bloom, its upas tree (not deadly, however, as tradition has it, but quite innocent of any criminal intent), its winding ways and really moss-grown paths and its secluded little cemetery where rest those members of the families of the governors who died on the island. No wonder Buitenzorg is the Mecca of the botanist and the one spot never neglected by even the casual tourist in the island.
Java reminds one of Japan in the appearance of its rice fields, its cultivated hills and its terraced mountain sides. Though the island is diminutive in area, containing a little less than forty thousand square miles, half of which is tillable, the land is so wisely used that it supports a population of 28,000,000. With so many mountains and with a rainfall amounting to ten feet per annum in some places; the island has, as might be expected, an abundance of springs and running streams, and these make possible a very perfect system of irrigation which has converted Java into a vast garden. Sugar is the chief export, followed by tea, coffee and copra, although rice is the product to which most attention is given. It is the chief article of food, and so much is required to support the dense population that its importance as a crop is not indicated by its place in the table of exports.
As a traveler is more impressed by the unusual things than by the things with which he is familiar, one who visits Java immediately notices the numerous fruits peculiar to the island. They have here all of the fruits usually found in tropical countries and several that are not found elsewhere. The pineapple grows in perfection and can be bought in the market for about a cent apiece. The Java orange is not equal in taste or variety to those of California or Florida, but the banana, of which there are more than a hundred varieties, makes up for the deficiency. Mrs. Scidmore, in her book on Java, is authority for the statement that four thousand pounds of bananas will grow on the space required to produce ninety-nine pounds of potatoes or thirty-three pounds of wheat; if her calculation is correct and the ratio of productiveness anything like the same in the case of other fruit, one can understand why the problem of living is so simplified in warm countries. A fruit closely allied to our grape-fruit is found here, a variety of which grows in China and Japan. The papaya, which we first tasted in Honolulu, the mango, whose season had passed in the Philippines, the sour manila and the durian are all to be bought in the market here. The last named fruit has succeeded in arraying into ardent friends and unsparing critics the tourists who have ventured to eat it. Some declare that it is delicious, while others can not bear the taste, and all agree that the odor is exceedingly repulsive. It is rough-skinned, very large, sometimes weighing ten or fifteen pounds, and resembles in appearance both the bread fruit and the nangka.
Among the fruits which we have tasted for the first time the mangosteen and the rambutan are rivals in popularity. The first is a delicately flavored, orange-shaped morsel of pure white, encased in a thick hull of deep red. It melts in the mouth, and leaves a memory of mingled flavors. Its fame has spread abroad, and there was for years a standing offer of thirty pounds to anyone who would put Queen Victoria in possession of a ripe mangosteen, but it decays so quickly that not even ice will preserve it during a long sea voyage. The rambutan has not received as much praise as the mangosteen, but I am not sure but that it is superior for continuous use. The word rambutan means hairy, and the name was given to this fruit because it has a covering something like a chestnut burr, except that the so-called hairs are soft instead of spine-like. There is a variety of rambutan which has a smoother covering without the hair-like projections, and this is very appropriately called the kapoelassen (which means bald) rambutan. The usual color of the covering is a bright crimson, but there are several different shades, and the trees present a very attractive appearance when laden with ripe fruit. The pulp of the rambutan resembles a pigeon's egg in size and shape and contains a single seed. The flavor is half tart, half sweet, and recalls all the good things one has ever tasted.
Another Javanese fruit is the doekoe, which on the outside looks like an apricot, but is divided into sections like an orange and has a taste peculiarly its own. The jamboa, or Java apple, is conical in shape and has a white wax appearance. But enough has been said to indicate the variety of fruits exposed for sale on the street and peddled at railway stations. The natives usually carry an assortment of fruit as they go to or return from market, and the floor of the third-class railroad coaches are always littered with rinds and peelings. Verily, one can revel in fruit to his heart's content in Java.
One of the most interesting days that we spent in Java was devoted to a trip to Boro Boedoer, the great Hindu temple near Djokjakarta. Leaving the through train at this station with the jaw-breaking name, we went by tram line about twenty miles and then drove six miles farther. Near the temple the road crosses a ferry, the substantial bridge which once spanned the river there having been swept away, and when we reached this point we found the stream so swollen by recent rains that the natives were not willing to risk their boats in the angry flood. We returned to the tramway station and spent the night in the hospitable home of the Dutch stationmaster, the only white man in the town. Returning to the river early next morning we found that the waters had sufficiently subsided to enable us to cross, and we reached Boro Boedoer while yet the sun was low. And what a monument is Boro Boedoer to the zeal of the Buddhist priests, the skill of the Hindu architect and the patient industry of the Javanese! As a temple it is not surpassed, in labor expended upon its construction it is comparable with the pyramids, and in artistic skill displayed in design and execution, it is even superior to them.
According to archæologists, it was built about twelve hundred years ago when the Javanese were worshipers of Buddha, but the invasion of the Mohammedans of the fifteenth century was so complete that that stupendous pile was first neglected, then deserted and at last forgotten. It was so overgrown with trees and shrubbery that the Dutch traders were in the country for two centuries before its presence was discovered. When it was found and unearthed during the occupancy of the English under Sir Stamford Raffles in 1814, the people living in the vicinity were as much surprised as the foreigners, for all tradition of its existence had been lost. This seems hardly possible when it is remembered that the temple stands upon the summit of a mound, is five hundred feet square at the base and towers to the height of a hundred feet. The structure is pyramidal in form and rises in eight terraces, the first five being square and the last three circular. Each terrace has a wall at the outer edge, which with the wall of the next succeeding terrace forms a roofless gallery, either side of which is ornamented with bas reliefs descriptive of the life of Buddha. These carvings, if placed side by side, would, it is estimated, extend for three miles, and the story which they tell has been interpreted by eminent archæologists who have visited the place. These pictures in stone not only portray the rise and development of the great Indian teacher, but they preserve a record of the dress and customs of the people, the arms and implements used, and the fauna and flora of that time.
At the center of each side there is a covered stairway leading to the summit, and there is evidence that the galleries were once separated from each other by doors. In the niches along the gallery walls there are four hundred and thirty-two stone images of Buddha, life size and seated on the ever present lotus. On the three circular terraces there are seventy-two openwork, bell-shaped structures, called dagabas, each containing a stone image of Buddha. Surmounting the temple is a great dagaba fifty feet in diameter and in it was found an unfinished statue of Buddha similar to those found on the various galleries.
As the stone employed in the construction of the temple was of a hard variety the bas reliefs are well preserved. No mortar was used for cementing the stones and no columns or pillars were employed.
Besides Boro Boedoer there are hundreds of other temples scattered over the island. Within two miles of the elevation upon which the great temple stands there are two religious edifices – one a shrine of exquisite proportions, restored in 1904, and another a temple of considerable size now being restored. At Brambanan, about twenty miles east of Djokjakarta, there is a large group of temples scarcely less interesting than Boro Boedoer. One of the reports received by Sir Stamford Raffles describes this territory as the headquarters of Hinduism in Java and the temples as "stupendous and finished specimens of human labor and of the science and taste of ages long since forgot."