Home
  By Author [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Title [ A  B  C  D  E  F  G  H  I  J  K  L  M  N  O  P  Q  R  S  T  U  V  W  X  Y  Z |  Other Symbols ]
  By Language
all Classics books content using ISYS

Download this book: [ ASCII | HTML | PDF ]

Look for this book on Amazon


We have new books nearly every day.
If you would like a news letter once a week or once a month
fill out this form and we will give you a summary of the books for that week or month by email.

Title: Rizal's own story of his life
Author: Rizal, José
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.
Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Rizal's own story of his life" ***

This book is indexed by ISYS Web Indexing system to allow the reader find any word or number within the document.



                     RIZAL'S OWN STORY OF HIS LIFE

                    "IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND THERE
                 ARE NAMES WHICH OF THEMSELVES SIGNIFY
                     ACHIEVEMENTS. THEY CALL FORTH
                 REVERENCE AND REMIND US OF GREATNESS."



                     EDITED BY AUSTIN CRAIG, RIZAL
                  RESEARCH-PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY
                           OF THE PHILIPPINES



                         National Book Company
                              MANILA 1918



                     COPYRIGHT 1918 BY AUSTIN CRAIG
                  Registered in the Philippine Islands


      Printed in the United States of America (Philippine Islands)
             Press of E. C. McCullough & Co., Manila, P. I.



ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


Dr. W. W. Marquardt suggested this book.

Miss Josephine Craig advised and assisted in the selections.

Hon. C. E. Yeater read and criticised the original manuscript.

Miss M. W. Sproull revised the translations.

Dean Francisco Benitez acted as pedagogical adviser.

Miss Gertrude McVenn simplified the language for primary school use.

Mr. John C. Howe adapted and arranged the music.

Mr. Frederic H. Stevens planned the make-up and, in spite of wartime
difficulties, provided the materials needed.

Mr. Chas. A. Kvist supervised the production.

Mr. C. H. Noronha, who, in 1897, in his Hongkong magazine Odds and
Ends, first published Rizal's farewell poem "My Last Thought", was

Assistant Insular Architect Juan Arellano, a colleague of the editor
on the Dapitan Rizal national park committee, designed the sampaguita
decorations.

Mr. A. Garcia achieved creditable illustrations out of poorly preserved
photographs whose historical accuracy has not been impaired by the
slightest embellishment.

And the entire establishment of Messrs. E.C. McCullough &
Company--printers, pressmen and bookbinders--labored zealously and
enthusiastically to do credit to the imprint: "Made in Manila--The
Work of Filipinos".



The Memory of Rizal is kept alive in many ways:

1. A province near Manila bears his name.

2. The anniversary of his death is a public holiday.

3. A memorial school has been built by the Insular Government in his
native town.

4. His home in exile has been made a national park.

5. The first destroyer of the future Philippine navy is named "Rizal".

6. Rizal's portrait appears on the two-peso bill.

7. Rizal's portrait appears on the two-centavo postage stamp.



ILLUSTRATIONS


                                                                 Page

    Rizal's pencil sketch of himself                                1
    Rizal at 14                                                     4
    Rizal's painting of his sister Saturnina                        6
    Rizal's portrait on Philippine postage and money                8
    Rizal's home, Kalamba                                          12
    Rizal's mother and two of his sisters                          16
    Clay model of dog and cayman combat                            17
    Where Rizal went to school in Biñan                            18
    Rizal monument, Biñan                                          24
    Santa Rosa Gate, on Biñan-Kalamba road                         26
    Model of a Dapitan woman at work                               28
    Rizal's uncle                                                  29
    Rizal's uncle's home in Biñan                                  30
    Guardia Civil soldier                                          31
    Rizal's mother                                                 33
    Rizal's father                                                 34
    One of Rizal's teachers, Terracotta bust by Rizal              36
    Padre Sanchez, Rizal's favorite teacher in the Ateneo          37
    Carving of the Sacred Heart, made by Rizal in the Ateneo       44
    Wooden bust of Rizal's father                                  45
    Rizal at 18                                                    48
    Rizal's sacrifice of his life                                  57
    Professor Burgos                                               58
    The lake shore at Kalamba                                      60
    A Manila school girl, drawn by Rizal                           62
    Rizal in Paris                                                 64
    Rizal at 30                                                    66
    Crayon portrait of Rizal's cousin Leonore                      70
    Dapitan plaza and townhall                                     80
    Wooden medallion of Mrs. José Rizal                            84
    Chalk pipehead, Rizal's last modeling                          86
    Rizal at 27                                                    90
    Manila skyline, sketched by Rizal                              92
    Rizal at 22                                                   104
    Rizal at 24                                                   106
    Rizal at 26                                                   108
    Rizal at 28, from a group picture                             110
    Rizal at 28, profile                                          114
    Rizal Mausoleum, Luneta, Manila                               118
    Noli Me Tangere manuscript-cover design, by Rizal             120
    El Filibusterismo manuscript-cover, lettered by Rizal         121
    Portrait of Rizal at time of finishing El Filibusterismo      121
    Los Baños house where El Filibusterismo was begun, drawn
    by Rizal                                                      121
    Diploma of Merit awarded Rizal for allegory "The Council
    of the Gods"                                                  123
    Silver pen prize won by Rizal for poem "To Philippine
    Youth"                                                        125
    Alcohol lamp in which Rizal hid poem "My Last Thought"        125



CONTENTS

            Handwritten quote: It is commonly said that the life of a
            good writer is best read in his works.

                                     --Autographic quotation from Rizal.


                                                              Page

    Rizal's Song "Hymn to Labor"                                 2
    Rizal's Song "Maria Clara's Lullaby"                         3
    My Boyhood                                                  13
    My First Reading Lesson                                     49
    My Childhood Impressions                                    59
    The Spanish Schools of My Boyhood                           61
    The Turkey that Caused the Kalamba Land Trouble             65
    From Japan to England Across America                        69
    My Deportation to Dapitan                                   73
    Advice to a Nephew                                          81
    Filipino Proverbs                                           83
    Filipino Puzzles                                            84
    Rizal's "Don'ts"                                            85
    Poem: Hymn to Labor                                         87
    Memory Gems from Rizal's Writings                           91
    Mariang Makiling                                            93

    NOT BY RIZAL

    The Memory of Rizal                                           8
    Rizal Chronology                                            101
    A Reading List                                              119
    Philippine National Hymn (by José Palma)                    126
    Song: Hail, Philippines (by H. C. Theobald)                 128



RIZAL'S OWN STORY

MY BOYHOOD

    José Rizal wrote the first three chapters in 1878. He was seventeen
    years old at that time.


CHAPTER I

My Birth and Earliest Years in Kalamba


I was born on Wednesday, the nineteenth of June, 1861. It was a few
days before the full of the moon. I found myself in a village. I had
some slight notions of the morning sun and of my parents. That is as
much as I can recall of my baby days.

The training which I received from my earliest infancy is perhaps
what formed my habits. I can recall clearly my first gloomy nights,
passed on the azotea of our house. They seem as yesterday! They were
nights filled with the poetry of sadness and seem near now because
at present my days are so sad. On moonlight nights, I took my supper
on the azotea. My nurse, who was very fond of me, used to threaten
to leave me to a terrible but imaginary being like the bogey of the
Europeans if I did not eat.

I had nine sisters and a brother. Our father was a model parent. He
gave us the education which was suitable in a family neither rich
nor poor. He was thrifty. By careful saving, he was able to build
a stone house. He also bought another house; and he put up a nipa
cottage on our plot of irrigated ground. The cottage was shaded by
bananas and trees.

At nightfall, my mother had us all say our prayers together. Then
we would go to the azotea or to a window to enjoy the moonlight;
and my nurse would tell us stories. Sometimes sad and sometimes gay,
nurse's stories were always oriental in their imagination. In these
stories, dead people, gold, and plants on which diamonds grew were
all mixed together.

When I was four years of age, my little sister Concha died, and for
the first time I cried because of love and sorrow. Till then I had
shed tears only for my own faults, which my loving, prudent mother
well knew how to correct.

I learned to write in my own village. My father looked after my
education. He paid an old man, who had been his schoolmate, to teach
me the first steps in Latin. This teacher lived in our house till he
died, five months later. He had been in almost perfect health and it
was at the moment of death that he received extreme unction.

In June of 1868, I went to Manila with my father. That was just after
the birth of Trinidad, the third sister younger than myself. We went in
a casco which turned out to be a clumsy boat. I shall not try to tell
how happy I was at each new stop on the banks of the Pasig. Beside
this same river, a few years later, I was to be very sad. We went
to Cainta, Taytay, and Antipolo, and then to Manila. In Santa Ana I
visited my eldest sister, Saturnina, who at that time was a student
in La Concordia College. Then I returned to my village and remained
until 1870.



CHAPTER II

My Schooling in Biñan


Biñan is a town about one and one-half hour's drive from my own town,
Kalamba. My father was born in Biñan, and he wished me to go there to
continue the study of Latin, which I had just begun. He sent me over
one Sunday in the care of my brother. The parting from my family was
tearful on the side of my parents and my sisters, but I was nine years
old and managed to hide my own tears. We reached Biñan at nightfall. We
went to an aunt's house where I was to live. When the moon came up,
a cousin took me around the town. Biñan appeared to me large and
wealthy but neither attractive nor cheerful.

My brother left me after he presented me to the schoolmaster, who,
it seemed, had been his own teacher. The schoolmaster was a tall,
thin man with a long neck and a sharp nose. His body leaned slightly
forward. He wore a shirt of sinamay that had been woven by the deft
fingers of Batangas women. He knew Latin and Spanish grammar by heart;
but his severity, I believe now, was too great. This is all that I
remember of him. His classroom was in his own house, only some thirty
meters from my aunt's home.

When I entered the classroom for the first time, he said to me:

"You, do you speak Spanish?"

"A little, sir," I answered.

"Do you know Latin?"

"A little, sir," I again answered.

Because of these answers, the teacher's son, who was the worst boy in
the class, began to make fun of me. He was some years my elder and
was taller than I, yet we had a tussle. Somehow or other, I don't
know how, I got the better of him. I bent him down over the class
benches. Then I let him loose, having hurt only his pride. After this,
possibly because of my small size, my schoolmates thought me a clever
wrestler. On going from the class one boy challenged me. He offered
me my hold, but I lost and came near breaking my head on the sidewalk.

I do not want to take up time with telling about the beatings I
got, nor shall I attempt to say how it hurt when I received the
first ruler blow on my hand. I used to win in the competitions,
for no one happened to be better than I. I made the most of these
successes. But in spite of the reputation I had of being a good boy,
rare were the days in which my teacher did not call me up to receive
five or six blows on the hand. When I went out with my companions,
they jokingly called me nicknames. But individually they used to
be so kind to me that I thought little of their teasings. A few of
them were very good and always treated me well. Among these few was
a second cousin of mine. Later, some of them were my schoolmates in
Manila and then it became my turn to tease.

Near the house of my teacher, Justiniano Aquin Cruz, lived his
father-in-law, generally called Juancho. Juancho was an aged artist
who let me help him with his paintings. I had already such a liking
for this art that our schoolmates called José Guevarra, another pupil,
and myself the class painters.



CHAPTER III

My Daily Life in Biñan


Many of us lived in the same house. There were my aunt, two cousins,
and three half-cousins. My aunt was a very old lady, over seventy. She
used to sit on the floor and read the Bible in Tagalog. One cousin
was a maiden lady who liked very much to go to confession and to do
penances. The other cousin, her brother, was a widower.

One of the half-cousins was something of a tomboy. She was quick to
anger but frank and true-hearted. At times, we young folks played
in the street at night. Our elders did not permit us to play in the
house. The tomboy was two or three years older than I and taught me
games. She always treated me as if I were her brother.

My manner of life was simple. I heard mass at four if there were a
service so early, or studied my lessons at that hour and went to mass
afterwards. Then I went out in the yard and looked for mabolos. Then
came breakfast, which generally consisted of a plate of rice and two
dried sardines. There was class work till ten o'clock and after lunch a
study period. In the afternoon, there was school from two o'clock until
five. Next, there would be play with my cousins for a while. Study
and perhaps painting took up the remainder of the afternoon. By
and by came supper, one or two plates of rice with a fish called
ayungin. In the evening we had prayers and then, if it was moonlight,
a cousin and I would play in the street with the others. Fortunately,
I was never ill while away from home. From time to time, I went to my
own village. How long the trip seemed going, and how short coming back!

Many things happened which it would be tiresome to read. Finally,
there came a letter from my sister Saturnina which announced that the
steamer Talim would stop for me on a certain day. I said good-bye
to my numerous friends and teacher. To my teacher, I expressed my
sadness in leaving and my gratitude for his instruction. Although
he had punished me frequently, he did so, I now think, out of the
kindness of his heart; and his heart was heavy when he did it.

I left Biñan on Saturday afternoon, the seventeenth of December,
1870. I was then nine years old. For the first time, I saw what a
steamer really was. It seemed to me most beautiful and in every way
admirable. But I heard my cousin, who was with me, make remarks to
the banquero that were not complimentary to her speed. I was the only
passenger from Biñan. Two sailors put my baggage into a cabin. Then I
went to inspect it. I thought I was going to be without a cabin-mate,
but a Frenchman, Arturo Camps, who was a friend of my father, looked
after me. The journey seemed very long, but finally we arrived
at Kalamba.

Oh! how glad I was to see the shore! At once I wanted to jump
into the first banca. A deckhand took me in his arms and put me
into the captain's boat. Then the Frenchman came and four sailors
rowed us ashore. It is impossible to describe my joy when I saw a
servant waiting for us with a carriage. I jumped in and soon found
myself again in our home, happy in the love of my family. Here end
my recollections of that period of mingled sadness and gladness,
in which, for the first time, I came to know anybody of foreign birth.



CHAPTER IV

The Injustice Done My Mother

(This chapter and the next one, Rizal wrote in 1879. At that time he
was eighteen years old.)


Some days after my return to Kalamba, my parents decided that I
should remain, and that later, I should go to Manila. I wanted to
study with a teacher of the town, even though I could learn no more
than multiplication, so I entered the village school.

At this time, an uncle of mine, Don José Alberto, returned from
Europe. He found that during his absence, his wife had left his
home and abandoned her children. The poor man anxiously sought his
wife and, at my mother's earnest request, he took her back. They
went to live in Biñan. Only a few days later the ungrateful woman
plotted with a Guardia Civil officer who was a friend of ours. She
accused her husband of poisoning her and charged that my mother was
an accomplice. On this charge, the alcalde sent my mother to prison.

I do not like to tell of the deep grief which we all, nine sisters
and brothers, felt. Our mother's arrest, we knew, was unjust. The
men who arrested her pretended to be friends and had often been
our guests. Ever since then, child though I was, I have distrusted
friendship. We learned later that our mother, away from us all and
along in years, was ill. From the first, the alcalde believed the
accusation. He was unfair in every way and treated my mother rudely,
even brutally. Finally, he persuaded her to confess to what they wished
by promising to set her free and to let her see her children. What
mother could resist that? What mother would not sacrifice life itself
for her children?

They terrified and deceived my mother as they would have any
other mother. They threatened to condemn her if she did not say
what they wished. She submitted to the will of her enemies and
lost her spirit. The case became involved until the same alcalde
asked pardon for her. But this was only when the matter was before
the Supreme Court. He asked for the pardon because he was sorry
for what he had done. Such was his meanness that I felt afraid of
him. Attorneys Francisco de Marcaida and Manuel Masigan, Manila's
leading lawyers, defended my mother and they finally succeeded in
having her acquitted. They proved her innocence to her judges, her
accusers and her hosts of enemies. But after how much delay?--After
two and a half years.

Meanwhile my father decided to send me to Manila with my brother
Paciano. I was to take the entrance examinations for the secondary
course in the Ateneo Municipal. I arrived in Manila on June 10th,
1872. I found out for the first time what examinations were like. My
examinations were in Christian doctrine, arithmetic and reading,
in San Juan de Letran College. They gave me a passing mark and I
returned to my home. A few days later came the celebration of the
town festival, after which I went to Manila. But even then, I felt
that unhappiness was in store for me.



CHAPTER V

A Student in Manila


As I had hoped, I was taken to the Jesuit priest at that time in charge
of the Ateneo Municipal. He was Father Magin Fernando. At first he
was unwilling to admit me. One reason was I had come late. Other
reasons were that I did not seem strong and was very small for my
age. I was then eleven. But later, Doctor Manuel Xeres Burgos, a
nephew of the ill-fated Padre Burgos, spoke in my favor; and Father
Fernando admitted me.

I dressed myself in the uniform like the other students, wearing a
white coat, or americana, and a necktie, and entered the chapel of the
Jesuit Fathers to hear mass. What fervent prayers did I address to God!

After mass, I went to the classroom. There I saw a number of boys,
Spanish, mestizos and natives, and a Jesuit teacher. Father José Bech,
the teacher, was a tall man, thin and somewhat stooping, but quick in
his movements. His face was thin and pale, yet lively. His eyes were
small and sunken, his nose sharp and Grecian. His thin lips curved
downwards. He was a little eccentric, sometimes being out of humor
and intolerant; at other times amusing himself by playing like a child.

Some of my schoolmates were interesting enough to warrant mentioning
them by name. Florencio Gavino Oliva, a young man from my own province,
had great talent but he did not work steadily. The same thing was
true of Moisés Santiago, a mathematician and a penman. It was also
true of Gonzalo Manzano, who then held the position of "Roman Emperor."

In Jesuit colleges they divide the boys into two groups or
"empires,"--one Roman and the other Greek. These two "empires" are
always at war. The boys of one "empire" always want to outdo those of
the other empire in all kinds of contests. Each group has a leader
who is called "Emperor." The "Emperor" wins his place by doing the
best work and standing the highest of anyone in his group. I was put
at the end of the line. I could scarcely speak Spanish, but I already
understood it.

After the religious exercises, I went out and found my brother waiting
to take me to my lodgings, which were about twenty-five minutes'
walk from the college. My brother did not wish to leave me in the
Walled City, which seemed very gloomy to me.

I lodged in a small house on Calle Caraballo, near an estero. The house
consisted of a dining room, a sala, a bedroom and a kitchen. An awning
covered the small space between the door and the steps. My landlady
was a maiden lady called Titay, who owed our family three hundred
pesos. Her mother, a good old woman, lived with her. There were besides
a crazy woman, quite harmless, and some Spanish mestizos in the house.

I must not speak of my sufferings, or of my troubles and pleasures. I
shall record only what happened in school during that year. By the
end of the first week, I was going up in the class. Then I began to
spend the siesta-time studying at Santa Isabel College. For this,
I paid three pesos a month. I went there with Pastor Millena, a boy
of my own age. A month later, I was "Emperor".

How pleased I was when I won my first prize, a religious
picture! In the first quarter I gained another prize, with the
grade "Excellent." After that I did not care to apply myself. I
had foolishly become dissatisfied because of something my teacher
said. Unfortunately, this continued until the end of the year and I
gained only second place in all my subjects. This gave me the grade of
"Excellent" but without any prize.

I spent the vacation at home and went with my eldest sister, Nening,
to Tanawan, for the town festival. This was in 1873. But our pleasure
was marred by the fact that our mother was not with us. I had gone
alone to see my mother without first sending word either to her or to
my father. This was at the close of the term in which I held second
place. I thought with what joy I would surprise her. Instead, we wept
in each other's arms. We had not seen each other for more than a year.

After vacation was over, I returned to Manila and enrolled in the
second year. Then I hunted lodgings in the Walled City. It was too
tiring to live so far away. I found a place at 6 Calle Magallanes
in the house of an elderly widow, Doña Pepay. Her daughter, also a
widow, lived with her. The name of the daughter was Doña Encarnación,
and her four sons were José, Rafael, Ignacio, and Ramón.

Nothing worth telling happened that year. My professor was the same
as in the previous year; but I had different schoolmates. Among them
I found three who had been with me in Biñan. At the end of this year,
I won a medal and returned to my town.

I again went alone to visit my mother in prison. Like another Joseph,
I prophesied to her from a dream that her release would take place
within three months. This prediction happened to come true.

At this time, I began to devote my leisure to reading novels. Years
before, I had read one, but it was not with any great interest. Imagine
how a romantic youngster of twelve would delight in the Count of Monte
Cristo! Under the pretext that I should have to study general history,
I persuaded my father to buy me a set of Cesar Cantu y Diós' histories.

I gained much by reading them. In spite of my only half applying
myself and of my indifferent Spanish, I was able to win prizes in
the quarterly examinations. I should have gained the medal if I had
not made some slips in Spanish, which I spoke very poorly. This gave
the place to a Spanish lad who spoke his mother tongue better than
I could. Thus, then, I finished my third year.

When I next returned to Manila, I found my former landlady's house
full. I had to take a room in the house with my brother, Paciano
Mercado, in company with a boy from my town named Quintero. My life
was not so free as formerly, for I was under close supervision. The
regular hours, however, were better for me. I prayed and played with
my landlord's children.


    A portrait of General Paciano Rizal-Mercado should appear here,
    but he has never had his picture taken. In September, 1896,
    he was cruelly tortured in an unsuccessful endeavor to get
    him to sign a statement that his brother was the leader of the
    rebellion. Rizal's last letter, from the Fort Santiago death-cell,
    tells how much the younger brother owed to the elder:

    "My dear brother: Now that I am about to die, it is to you that
    I write my last letter. I am thinking of how you worked to give
    me my career....

    ... I believe that I have tried not to lose my time ... I know
    how much you have suffered for my sake. ... I assure you, brother,
    that I die innocent of this crime of rebellion."


A little later my mother was proved innocent and she was set free. She
came to embrace me as soon as she was free. After the vacation, in
that memorable year of my mother's release, I again had my lodgings
in the Walled City. The house was in Calle Solana and belonged to a
priest. My mother had not wanted me to return to Manila, saying that
I already had sufficient education. Did she have a presentiment of
what was going to happen to me? Can it be that a mother's heart gives
her double vision?

My future profession was still unsettled. My father wanted me to
study metaphysics, so I enrolled in that course. But my interest was
so slight that I did not even buy a copy of the textbook. A former
schoolmate, who had finished his course three months before, was
my only intimate friend. He lived in the same street as I did. My
companions in the house were from Batangas and had only recently
arrived in Manila.

On Sundays and other holidays, this friend used to call for me and we
would spend the day at my great-aunt's house in Trozo. My aunt knew
his father. When my youngest sister entered La Concordia College, I
used to visit her, too, on the holidays. Another friend had a sister
in the same school, so we could go together. I made a pencil sketch
of his sister from a photograph which she lent me. On December 8th,
the festival of La Concordia, some other students and I went to the
college. It was a fine day and the building was gay with decorations
of banners, lanterns and flowers.

Shortly after that, I went home for the Christmas holidays. On
the same steamer, was a Kalamba girl who had been a pupil in Santa
Catalina College for nearly five years. Her father was with her. We
were well acquainted but her schooling had made her bashful. She
kept her back to me while we talked. To help her pass the time, I
asked about her school and studies but I got hardly more than "yes"
and "no" in answer. She seemed to have almost, if not entirely,
forgotten her Tagalog. When I walked into our house in Kalamba,
my mother at first did not recognize me. The sad cause was that she
had almost lost her sight. My sisters greeted me joyfully and I could
read their welcome in their smiling faces. But my father, who seemed
to be the most pleased of all, said least.

The next day we were expecting friends from Manila to arrive, on
their way to Lipa. But the steamer landed its passengers at Biñan
because of a storm. So I saddled a pony and rode over there to meet
them. My horse proved to be a good traveler and when I got back to
Kalamba I rode on, by the Los Baños road, to our sugar mill. There
I tied the horse by the roadside and for a time watched the water
flowing through the irrigation ditch. Its swiftness reminded me of
how rapidly my days were going by. I am now twenty years old and
have the satisfaction of remembering that in the crises of my life
I have not followed my own pleasure. I have always tried to live by
my principles and to do the heavy duties which I have undertaken.



MY FIRST READING LESSON

This tells how he himself became an intelligent student. It was
probably written while he was studying the schools of Saxony. These
were the models for America so that the present educational system
here is along the lines he advocated. As a child he had written a poem,
"By Education the Fatherland Gains in Splendor".


I remember the time when I had not seen any other river than the
one near my town. It was as clear as crystal, and joyous, too, as
it ran on its course. But it was shaded by bamboos whose boughs bent
to every breeze as if always complaining. That was my only world. It
was bounded at the back by the blue mountains of my province. It was
bounded in front by the white surface of the lake. The lake was as
smooth as a mirror. Graceful sails were to be seen everywhere on it.

At that age, stories pleased me greatly and, with all my soul, I
believed whatever was in the books. There were good reasons why I
should. My parents told me to be very careful of my books. They urged
me to read and understand them. But they punished me for the least lie.

My first recollection of reciting my letters reaches back to my
babyhood. I must have been very little then, for when they rubbed the
floor of our house with banana leaves I almost fell down. I slipped
on the polished surface as beginners in skating do on ice. It took
great effort for me to climb into a chair. I went downstairs step by
step. I clung to each round of the baluster.

In our house, as in all others in the town, kerosene oil was unknown. I
had never seen a lamp in our town, nor a carriage on our streets. Yet
I thought Kalamba was a very gay and lively town. One night, all the
family, except my mother and myself, went to bed early. Why, I do
not know, but we two remained sitting alone. The candles had already
been put out. They had been blown out in their globes by means of
a curved tube of tin. That tube seemed to me the finest and most
wonderful plaything in the world. The room was dimly lighted by a
single light of coconut oil. In all Filipino homes such a light burns
through the night. It goes out just at day-break to awaken people by
its spluttering.

My mother was teaching me to read in a Spanish reader called "The
Children's Friend." This was quite a rare book and an old copy. It
had lost its cover and my sister had cleverly made a new one. She had
fastened a sheet of thick blue paper over the back and then covered
it with a piece of cloth.

This night my mother became impatient with hearing me read so poorly. I
did not understand Spanish and so I could not read with expression. She
took the book from me. First she scolded me for drawing funny pictures
on its pages. Then she told me to listen and she began to read. When
her sight was good, she read very well. She could recite well, and she
understood verse-making, too. Many times during Christmas vacations,
my mother corrected my poetical compositions, and she always made
valuable criticisms.

I listened to her, full of childish enthusiasm. I marveled at the
nice-sounding phrases which she read from those same pages. The phrases
she read so easily stopped me at every breath. Perhaps I grew tired
of listening to sounds that had no meaning for me. Perhaps I lacked
self-control. Anyway, I paid little attention to the reading. I was
watching the cheerful flame. About it, some little moths were circling
in playful flights. By chance, too, I yawned. My mother soon noticed
that I was not interested. She stopped reading. Then she said to me:
"I am going to read you a very pretty story. Now pay attention."

On hearing the word "story" I at once opened my eyes wide. The word
"story" promised something new and wonderful. I watched my mother
while she turned the leaves of the book, as if she were looking for
something. Then I settled down to listen. I was full of curiosity and
wonder. I had never even dreamed that there were stories in the old
book which I read without understanding. My mother began to read me
the fable of the young moth and the old one. She translated it into
Tagalog a little at a time.

My attention increased from the first sentence. I looked toward the
light and fixed my gaze on the moths which were circling around it. The
story could not have been better timed. My mother repeated the warning
of the old moth. She dwelt upon it and directed it to me. I heard her,
but it is a curious thing that the light seemed to me each time more
beautiful, the flame more attractive. I really envied the fortune of
the insects. They frolicked so joyously in its enchanting splendor
that the ones which had fallen and been drowned in the oil did not
cause me any dread.

My mother kept on reading and I listened breathlessly. The fate of
the two insects interested me greatly. The flame rolled its golden
tongue to one side and a moth which this movement had singed fell into
the oil, fluttered for a time and then became quiet. That became for
me a great event. A curious change came over me which I have always
noticed in myself whenever anything has stirred my feelings. The flame
and the moth seemed to go farther away and my mother's voice sounded
strange and uncanny. I did not notice when she ended the fable. All
my attention was fixed on the fate of the insect. I watched it with
my whole soul. I gave to it my every thought. It had died a martyr
to its illusions.

As she put me to bed, my mother said: "See that you do not behave
like the young moth. Don't become disobedient, or you may get burnt
as it did." I do not know whether I answered or not. I don't know
whether I promised anything or whether I cried. But I do remember
that it was a long time before I fell asleep. The story revealed to me
things until then unknown. Moths no longer were, for me, insignificant
insects. Moths talked; they knew how to warn. They advised, just like
my mother. The light seemed to me more beautiful. It had grown more
dazzling and more attractive. I knew why the moths circled the flame.

The advice and warnings sounded feebly in my ears. What I thought
of most was the death of the heedless moth. But in the depth of my
heart I did not blame it. My mother's care had not had quite the
result she intended.

Years have passed since then. The child has become a man. He has
crossed the most famous rivers of other countries. He has studied
beside their broad streams. He has crossed seas and oceans. He
has climbed mountains much higher than the Makiling of his native
province, up to perpetual snow. He has received from experience
bitter lessons, much more bitter than that sweet teaching which his
mother gave him. Yet, in spite of all, the man still keeps the heart
of a child. He still thinks that light is the most beautiful thing
in creation, and that to sacrifice one's life for it is worth while.



MY CHILDHOOD IMPRESSIONS

    One of numerous rough drafts evidently written for
    practice. Published as "Mi Primer Recuerdo," in El Renacimiento,
    Manila, February 2, 1908.


I spent many, many hours of my childhood down on the shore of the lake,
Laguna de Bay. I was thinking of what was beyond. I was dreaming of
what might be over on the other side of the waves. Almost every day,
in our town, we saw the Guardia Civil lieutenant caning and injuring
some unarmed and inoffensive villager. The villager's only fault was
that while at a distance he had not taken off his hat and made his
bow. The alcalde treated the poor villagers in the same way whenever
he visited us.

We saw no restraint put upon brutality. Acts of violence and
other excesses were committed daily. The officers whose duty it
was to protect the people and keep the public peace were the real
outlaws. Against such lawbreakers, our authorities were powerless. I
asked myself if, in the lands which lay across the lake, the
people lived in this same way. I wondered if there they tortured
any countryman with hard and cruel whips merely on suspicion. Did
they there respect the home? Or over yonder also, in order to live
in peace, would one have to bribe tyrants?



THE SPANISH SCHOOLS OF MY BOYHOOD

    From the introduction which Doctor Rizal put to his Spanish
    version of an article on "The Transliteration of Tagalog". His
    advocacy of the English style used in other Malay countries
    as more akin to the genius of Filipino dialects was considered
    extremely unpatriotic by most Spaniards.


You perhaps attended a village Spanish school to learn your
letters. Possibly, you have had to teach the letters in Spanish to
others smaller than yourself. In either case, you must have noticed
what I have, that children find great difficulty in mastering certain
syllables. These are ca, ce, ci, co, ga, ge, gua, gui, etc. It is
because Filipino children do not understand the reasons for such
irregularities. Nor do they know the cause for the changes in value
of the sounds of certain consonants.

In the old times, blows fell like rain. Many pupils were whipped every
day. Sometimes the schoolmaster broke the ferule and sometimes he
broke the children's hands. The first pages of their primers fell to
pieces from long and hard use. The children cried. Even the monitors
had to suffer at times. Yet those syllables which cost the children
so many tears are of no use to them.

Those syllables are necessary only in the learning of Spanish,
which language in my time only three boys in a thousand ever really
learned. These three learned it in Manila, by hearing Spanish spoken,
and by committing to memory book after book. I often wondered what
was the use of learning it at all when in the end one spoke only
Tagalog. But I kept my wonder to myself. I felt that to try to make
reforms in the Philippines at that time would be to embark on a
stormy voyage.

After I grew up, I had to write letters in Tagalog. I was shocked at
my ignorance of its spelling. I was surprised, too, to find the same
word spelled differently in the different works which I consulted. This
proved to me how foolish it was to try to write Tagalog in the Spanish
way. The spelling in use today by all Filipino scholars is a great
improvement over the old style. I want to place the credit for this
change where it belongs. These improvements are due to the studies
in Tagalog of Dr. T. H. Pardo de Tavera alone. I have only been one
of the most zealous champions of the change from the Spanish style.



THE TURKEY THAT CAUSED THE KALAMBA LAND TROUBLE

    This account was given Captain Carnicero, the Spanish commander
    of the Dapitan district where Rizal was in exile, in 1892.


My father was a friend of the owners of the Kalamba
estate. He was intimate, too, with the manager in charge of the
plantation. Frequently, important visitors came to the plantation
house. Then the manager asked my father for whatever he needed. He
very often asked for a turkey, and my father gladly gave it to him. The
poultry yard at our house was always full of turkeys because my father
was a fancier of these fowls.

But one season there came some epidemic and almost all the turkeys
died. Only a few pairs, which were being kept for breeding, were
left. Just at this time the manager one day sent for the customary
turkey. Naturally my father had to tell the messenger that he had no
turkeys to spare, because the greater part of them had died. This reply
made the manager furiously angry. He wound up his abuse by saying,
"You will pay for this in the end!" A few days later my father received
a note from the manager, saying that he was going to raise the rent on
the land which my father occupied. He said the rent would be one-third
more than father was then paying.

The reason for this decision was clear. It was because my father had
refused to give the manager the turkey. The proof of this was that
no other tenant received any such notice.



Father paid this increase on the day set, without a single word of
protest, being among the first to pay. But after a few months, there
came another note. In it the manager gave notice that the rent would
be doubled. This, he said, was because my father was growing rich
from the rented land where he had installed machinery for making sugar.



My father could not pay this price. Then he was summoned to appear
in court; and finally the alcalde ordered him to leave the land. So
he lost his houses and machinery, all because of a turkey.



FROM JAPAN TO ENGLAND ACROSS AMERICA

    From letters written en route to his friend Mariano Ponce and
    first published in Manuel Artigas' Biblioteca Nacional Filipina,
    Manila, June, 1910.


On February 28th, 1888, I arrived in Yokohama. A few moments after
reaching the hotel, I received the card of the official in charge at
the Spanish legation. I had not even had a chance to brush up when he
called. He was very pleasant and offered to assist me in my work. He
even invited me to live at the legation, and I accepted. If, at the
bottom, there was a desire to watch me, I was not afraid to let them
know all about myself. I lived at the legation a little over a month,
and traveled in some of the nearby provinces of Japan. At times,
I was alone; at others, with the Spanish official himself, or with
the interpreter. While there, I learned to speak Japanese, and made a
slight study of the Japanese theatre. After many offers of employment,
which I refused, I sailed at last for America, about April 13th.

On the steamer, I met a half-Filipino family, the wife being a
mestiza, the daughter of an Englishman named Jackson. They had with
them a servant from Pangasinan. The son asked me if I knew "Richal,"
the author of Noli Me Tangere. Smiling, I answered that I did; and,
as he began to speak well of me, I had to make myself known and say
that I was the author. The mother paid me compliments, too. I made
the acquaintance of a Japanese who was going to Europe. He had been a
prisoner for being a radical and editor of an independent newspaper. As
the Japanese spoke only Japanese, I acted as interpreter for him
until we arrived in London.

During this voyage I was not seasick.

I visited the larger cities of America, where I saw splendid
buildings. The Americans have magnificent ideals. America is a homeland
for the poor who are willing to work.

I traveled across America, and saw the majestic cascade of Niagara. I
was in New York, the great city, but there everything is new. I went
to see some relics of Washington, that great man whom I fear has not
his equal in this century.

I embarked for Europe on the "City of Rome", said to be the second
largest steamer in the world. On board, a newspaper was published up
to the end of the voyage.

I made the acquaintance of many people. They wondered at my taking
about with me a foreigner who could not make himself understood. The
Europeans and Americans were astonished to see how I got along with
him. I could speak to every one in his own language and understand
what he said.



MY DEPORTATION TO DAPITAN

    First published in the Biblioteca National Filipina, Manila. The
    account was secretly sent by Rizal to his friends very shortly
    after his arrival at his place of exile. The reference to the
    school is from a letter to Doctor Blumentritt.


I arrived in Manila the 26th of June, 1892. It was on a Sunday,
at 12 o'clock, noon. A number of carbineers, including a major, met
me. A captain and a sergeant of the Guardia Veterana were there in
civilian clothes. I disembarked with my luggage, and they inspected
it at the custom house.

From there, I went to the Oriente Hotel. I occupied Room No. 22,
which overlooks the Binondo Church.

That afternoon, at four, I presented myself to His Excellency,
Governor-General Despujol. He told me to return at seven in the
evening and I did so. He granted my petition for the liberty of my
father, but not for the liberty of my brother and sisters. He told
me to return on Wednesday evening at half past seven.

From there, I went to see my sisters. First I saw my sister Narcisa,
afterwards Neneng (Saturnina). On the following day, Monday, at
six o'clock in the morning, I was at the railway station, bound for
Bulacan and Pampanga. I visited Malolos, San Fernando, and Tarlac. On
the return I stopped at Bacolor, reaching Manila on Tuesday at five
o'clock in the afternoon.

Seven-thirty on Wednesday saw me with His Excellency. But not even
then did I get him to revoke the deportation decrees. Still he gave me
hope for my sisters. As it was the festival of Saints Peter and Paul,
our interview ended at 9:15. I was to present myself on the following
day, at the same hour.

That day, Thursday, we spoke on unimportant matters. I thanked him
for having revoked the order to banish my sisters and told him that
my father and brother would come by the first mail-steamer. He asked
me if I wished to return to Hongkong and I answered, "Yes". He told
me to come again on Wednesday.

Wednesday he asked me if I persisted in my intention of returning
to Hongkong. I told him that I did. After some conversation he said
that I had brought political circulars in my baggage. I replied that
I had not. He asked me who was the owner of the roll of pillows and
petates with my baggage. I said that they belonged to my sister. He
told me that because of them he was going to send me to Fort Santiago.

Don Ramón Despujol, his nephew and aide, took me in one of the palace
carriages. At Fort Santiago Don Enrique Villamor, the commander,
received me. He assigned me to an ordinary room containing a bed,
a dozen chairs, a table, a washstand, and a mirror. The room had
three windows. One, without bars, looked out on a court; another
had bars, and overlooked the wall and the beach; the third served
also as a door and had a padlock. Two artillerymen were on guard as
sentinels. They had orders to fire on anyone who tried to make signs
from the beach. I could not talk with anyone except the officer of
the guard, and I was not allowed to write.

Don Enrique Villamor, the commander of the fort, gave me books from
the library.

Each day the corporal of the guard proved to be a sergeant. They
cleaned the room every morning. For breakfast, I had coffee with milk,
a roll, and coffee-cake. Lunch was at 12:30, and consisted of four
courses. Dinner was at 8:30, and was similar to the lunch. Commander
Villamor's orderly waited on me.

On Thursday, the 14th, about 5:30 or 6 p. m., the nephew notified me
that at ten o'clock that night I should sail for Dapitan. I prepared
my baggage, and at 10 was ready, but as no one came to get me, I went
to sleep. At 12:15, the aide arrived with the same carriage which had
brought me there. By way of the Santa Lucia gate, they took me to the
Malecon, where were General Ahumada and some other people. Another
aide and two of the Guardia Veterana were waiting for me in a boat.

The "Cebu" sailed in the morning at nine. They gave me a good stateroom
on the upper deck. Above the doors could be read "Chief". Next to my
cabin was that of Capt. Delgras, who had charge of the party.

Ten from each branch of the military service were in the party. There
were artillery, infantry of the 70th, 71st, 72nd, 73rd, and 74th
regiments, carbineers, cavalry and engineers, and Guardia Civil. Of
artillerymen there were at least twelve.

We were carrying prisoners loaded with chains, among whom were a
sergeant and a corporal, both Europeans. The sergeant was to be shot
because he had ordered his superior officer, who had misbehaved while
in Mindanao, to be tied up. The soldiers who obeyed orders and tied
the officer up were given twenty years' imprisonment; and the officer
himself was dismissed from the service because he had let them tie
him up.

I ate in my stateroom, the food being the same as the officers had. I
always had a sentinel and a corporal on guard. Every night, Captain
Delgras took me for a promenade on deck till 9 o'clock.

We passed along the east coast of Mindoro and the west coast of
Panay. We came to Dapitan on Sunday, at seven in the evening. Captain
Delgras and three artillerymen accompanied me in a boat rowed by
eight sailors. There was a heavy sea.

The beach seemed very gloomy. We were in the dark, except for our
lantern, which showed a roadway grown up with weeds.

In the town we met the governor, or commandant, Captain Ricardo
Carnicero. There was also a Spanish ex-exile, and the practicante,
Don Cosme. We went to the town hall, which was a large building.



My life now is quiet, peaceful, retired and without glory, but I
think it is useful too. I teach reading, Spanish, English, mathematics
and geometry to the poor but intelligent boys here. Moreover I teach
them to behave like men. I have taught the men how to get a better
way of earning their living and they think I am right. We have begun
and success is crowning our trials.



ADVICE TO A NEPHEW

    Written from Dapitan. Rizal took great interest in the education
    of his sisters' children and in Germany had made for them a
    translation into Tagalog of Hans Christian Andersen's fairy
    tales. This he embellished with many appropriate drawings and
    wrote out very plainly, making a book of eighty pages.


I think that I ought to mention to you a slight error which I have
noticed in your letter. It is a little error which many in society
make.

One should not say, "I and my sisters greet you," but "My sisters and
I greet you." Always you have to put yourself last. You should say:
"Emilio and I," "You and I," "My friend and I," and so on. For the
rest, your letter is well written. In it you express your thoughts
clearly. You use only the necessary words, and your spelling is good.

Keep on advancing. Learn, learn and think much about what you
learn. Life is a very serious matter. It goes well only for those
who have intelligence and heart. To live is to be among men, and to
be among men is to strive.

But this strife is not a brute-like, selfish struggle,--nor with men
alone. It is a strife with men, and at the same time with one's own
passions. It is a struggle with the proprieties, with errors, with
prejudices. It is a never-ending striving, with a smile on the lips
and the tears in the heart.

On this battlefield, man has no better weapon than his intelligence. He
possesses no more force than he has spirit. Bring out your
intelligence, then, and improve it. Strengthen and educate yourself
that you may be prepared for the struggle.



FILIPINO PROVERBS

    The Proverbs and the Puzzles were published, with comments here
    omitted, in Truebner's Oriental Magazine, London, June and July
    issues of 1889.

    Rizal's own English.


1. Low words are stronger than loud words.

2. A petted child is generally naked (i. e. poor).

3. Parents' punishment makes one fat.

4. New king, new fashion.

5. Man promises while in need.

6. He who believes in tales has no mind of his own.

7. The most difficult to rouse from sleep is the man who pretends to
be asleep.

8. Too many words, too little work.

9. The sleeping shrimp is carried away by the current.

10. The fish is caught through the mouth.



FILIPINO PUZZLES


He carries me, I carry him.--The shoes.

A deep well filled with steel blades.--The mouth.



RIZAL'S DON'TS

    Condensed from the regulations of the Philippine League (Liga
    Filipino), a co-operative economic society which Rizal organized
    in Manila just before his deportation, in 1892.


DON'T gamble.

DON'T be a drunkard.

DON'T break the laws.

DON'T be cruel in any way.

DON'T be a rabid partisan.

DON'T be merely a faultfinding critic.

DON'T put yourself in the way of humiliation.

DON'T treat anyone with haughtiness or contempt.

DON'T condemn anyone without first hearing his side.

DON'T abandon the poor man who has right on his side.

DON'T forget those who, worthily, have come to want.

DON'T fail those without means who show application and ability.

DON'T associate with immoral persons or with persons of bad habits.

DON'T overlook the value to our country of new machinery and
industries.

DON'T ever cease working for the prosperity and welfare of our
native land.



HYMN TO LABOR

    (Written expressly for the exercises celebrating the erection of
    the pueblo of Lipa, Batangas, into a villa, but received too late
    to be used on that occasion.)--Translation by Charles Derbyshire.


        Men:

          Now the east with light is reddening,
        And to our fields and tasks we fare;
        By the toil of man sustaining
        Life and home and country there.

          Though the earth be hard and stubborn,
        And the sun unpitying glow,
        For our country and our homes
        Love an easy way will show.


        Chorus:

        For his country in peace,
          For his country in war,
        Let the Filipino work,
          Let him live, let him die.


        Matrons:

          Go then joyous to your labor,
        While the wife awaits you here;
        With the children learning from her
        To hold truth and country dear.

          When night brings you weary homeward
        May peace and joy await you there;
        But if fate unkindly frown,
        She your stubborn task will share.


        Chorus:

        For his country in peace,
          For his country in war,
        Let the Filipino work,
          Let him live, let him die.


        Maidens:

          Hail to labor! Blessed be it,
        For it brings our country wealth;
        May we ever hold it sacred,--
        'Tis our country's life and health!

          If the youth would win our favor
        By his work his faith be shown;
        Only he who toils and struggles
        Will support and keep his own.


        Chorus:

        For his country in peace,
          For his country in war,
        Let the Filipino work,
          Let him live, let him die.


        Boys:

          Show us then the way to labor,--
        The road you ope to guide our feet;
        So that when our country calls us,
        We your task may then complete,

          And the old men then will bless us,
        Saying: "They are worthy of their sires;
        For the dead are honored most
        By sons whom true worth inspires."


        Chorus:

        For his country in peace,
          For his country in war,
        Let the Filipino work,
          Let him live, let him die.



MEMORY GEMS FROM RIZAL'S WRITINGS


Without liberty there is no light.

One evil does not correct another.

My dearest wish is the happiness of my country.

It is a useless life which is not consecrated to a great idea.

A man keeps his independence while he holds to his own way of thinking.

If our country is ever to be free it will not be through vice and
crime.

Knowledge is the heritage of mankind, but only the courageous
inherit it.

It is better to honor a good man in life than to worship him after
he is dead.

Resignation is not always a virtue; it is a crime when it encourages
tyrants.

In the flames of war those who suffer most are the defenceless and
the innocent.



I have worked for the good of my native land, I have consecrated my
life to the welfare of others.

We need criticism to keep us awake. It makes us see our weaknesses
so that we may correct them.

There are three ways in which one may accompany the course of progress:
in front of, beside, or behind it.

Where are the young men who will consecrate their best years, their
ambitions and their enthusiasms to the welfare of their native land?



MARIANG MAKILING

    (This story is a favorite in my town.)


Mariang Makiling was a young woman. She lived somewhere on the
beautiful mountain Makiling, between Laguna province and Tayabas
province. No one knew just where or how she lived. Some said she
lived in a beautiful palace surrounded by gardens. Others said she
lived in a poor hut made of nipa and bamboo.

Maria was tall and graceful. Her color was a clear, pure brown,
kayumanging kaligatan, as the Tagalogs say. Her eyes were big
and black. Her hair was long and thick. Her hands and feet were
small and delicate. She was a fairy-like creature born under the
moon-beams of the Philippines. She flitted in and out among the woods
of Makiling. She was the ruling spirit of the mountain; but she seldom
came within sight of man.

Hunters sometimes saw Maria on the night of Good Friday when they
went out to trap deer. She would be standing motionless on the
edge of some great cliff. Her long hair floated in the wind. She
sometimes approached them. She would salute them gravely, then pass
on and disappear among the shadows of the trees. They never dared to
question her, to follow her, or to watch her.

She liked best to appear after a storm. Then she would scurry over the
fields bringing back life to the fallen plants, and setting everything
to rights. The trees straightened up their wind-blown trunks. The
streams went back into their beds. All signs of the storm disappeared
as she passed.

Mariang Makiling had a very good heart. She used to lend the poor
country folk clothing or jewels for weddings, baptisms and feast
days. All she asked in return was a pullet as white as milk. It had
to be a dumalaga; that is, one that had never laid an egg.

Sometimes she appeared as a simple country girl and helped the poor
old women to pick up firewood. Then she would slip gold nuggets,
coins and jewels into their bundles of wood.

A hunter was one day chasing a wild boar through the tall grass and
thorny bushes. Suddenly he came to a hut in which the animal hid. A
beautiful young woman came out and said:

"The wild boar belongs to me. You have done wrong to chase it, but
I see that you are very tired. Your arms and legs are covered with
blood. Come in and eat. Then you may go on your way."

The man was charmed by the beauty of the young woman. He went in and
ate everything she offered him. But he was not able to speak a single
word. Before the hunter left, the young woman gave him some pieces of
ginger. She told him to give them to his wife for her cooking. The
hunter thanked her and put the roots inside the crown of his broad
hat. On the way home his hat felt heavy. So he took out a number of
the pieces and threw them away. He was surprised and sorry the next
day when his wife discovered that what they had taken to be ginger
was solid gold. The supposed roots were bright as rays of sunshine.

But Mariang Makiling was not always kind and generous to the
hunters. Sometimes she punished them.

One afternoon two hunters were coming down the mountain, carrying
some wild boars and deer which they had killed during the day.

They met an old woman who begged them to give her a quarter. They
thought that was too much to give, so they refused. The old woman said
that she would go and tell the mistress of those animals, and she
left them. This threat made the hunters laugh heartily. When night
had fallen and the two were near the plain, they heard a distant
shout--very distant, as though it came from the top of the mountain:

"There they go-o-o--o!"

Then another even more distant cry replied:

"There they go-o-o--o!"

That cry surprised both the hunters, who could not account for it. On
hearing it, the dogs stuck up their ears. They uttered low growls
and drew nearer to their masters. In a few minutes the same cry was
heard again, this time from the mountain-side. On hearing it, the
dogs thrust their tails between their legs and came close to their
masters. The men stared at each other without saying a word. They
were astonished that the one who uttered the cry could travel so far
in such a short time. When they reached the plain, the fearful cry
was heard again. This time, it was so clear and distinct that both
looked back. In the moonlight, they could see two strange, gigantic
shapes coming down the mountain at full speed. Both hunters ran as
fast as they could with such heavy loads. Still the strange creatures
came nearer.

The men, coming to a spring called bukal, threw down their burdens,
and climbed a tree; and the dogs fled toward the town. The monsters
came up, and in a few seconds devoured the wild boars and deer and went
back toward the mountain. Only then, did the hunters recover. The more
courageous took aim but his gun missed fire and the monsters escaped.

No one ever knew whether Mariang Makiling had parents, brothers and
sisters, or other kin. Such persons spring up naturally, like the
stones the Tagalogs call mutya. No one ever knew her real name. She
was simply called Maria. No one ever saw her enter the town or take
part in any religious ceremony. She remained ever the same. The
five or six generations that knew her always saw her young, fresh,
sprightly, and pure.

For many years now no one has seen her on Makiling. Her vapor figure
no longer wanders through the deep valleys. It no longer hovers over
the waterfall on the serene moonlight nights. The melancholy tone
of her mysterious harp is no longer heard. Now lovers are married
without getting from her either jewels or presents. Mariang Makiling
has disappeared.

Some blame the people of a certain town who not only refused to give
her the customary white pullet but even failed to return the jewels
and clothing borrowed. Others say that Mariang Makiling is offended
because some landlords are trying to take half of the mountain.



A CHRONOLOGY OF THE LIFE OF JOSÉ RIZAL


1848, June 28.--Rizal's parents married in Kalamba, La Laguna:
Francisco Rizal-Mercado y Alejandra (born in Biñan, April 18,1818)
and Teodora Morales Alonso-Realonda y Quintos (born in Sta. Cruz,
Manila, Nov. 14, 1827).

1861, June 19.--Rizal born, their seventh child.

June 22.--Christened as José Protasio Rizal-Mercado y Alonso-Realonda.

1870, Age 9.--In school at Biñan under Master Justiniano Aquin Cruz.

1871, Age 10.--In Kalamba public school under Master Lucas Padua.

1872, June 10. Age 11.--Examined in San Juan de Letran college, Manila,
which, during the Spanish time, as part of Sto. Tomás University,
controlled entrance to all higher institutions.

June 26.--Entered the Ateneo Municipal de Manila, then a public school,
as a day scholar.

1875, June 14. Age 14.--Became a boarder in the Ateneo.

1876, March 23. Age 15.--Received the Bachelor of Arts (B.A.) degree,
with highest honors, from Ateneo de Manila.

June.--Entered Sto. Tomás University in Philosophy course.

1877, June. Age 16.--Matriculated in medical course. Won Liceo
Artístico-Literario prize, in poetical competition for "Indians and
Mestizos", with poem "To Philippine Youth."

Nov. 29.--Awarded diploma of honorable mention and merit by Royal
Economic Society of Friends of the Country, Amigos del País, for
prize poem.

1880, April 23. Age 19.--Received Liceo Artístico-Literario diploma
of honorable mention for allegory "The Council of the Gods," in
competition open to "Spaniards, mestizos and Indians." Unjustly
deprived of first prize.

Dec. 8.--Operetta "On the Banks of the Pasig" produced.

1881. Age 20.--Submitted winning wax model design for commemorative
medal for Royal Economic Society of Friends of the Country centennial.

Wounded in the back for not saluting a Guardia Civil lieutenant whom
he had not seen. His complaint was ignored by the authorities.

1882, May 3. Age 21.--Secretly left Manila, with passport of a cousin,
taking at Singapore a French mail steamer for Marseilles and entering
Spain at Port Bou by railroad. Money furnished. by his brother,
Paciano Mercado.

June.--Absence noted at Sto. Tomás University, which owned Kalamba
estate. Rizal's father was compelled to prove that he had had no
knowledge of his son's plan in order to hold the land on which he
was the University's tenant.

July-Nov.--A student in Barcelona.

Nov. 3.--Began studies in Madrid.

1885, June 19. Age 24--Received degree of Licentiate in Medicine with
honors from Central University of Madrid.

1886, June. Age 25--Received degree of Licentiate in Philosophy,
with honors and special mention in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, from
Central University of Madrid.

Clinical assistant to Dr. L. de Weckert, a Paris oculist.

Visited Universities of Heidelberg, Leipzig, and Berlin.

1887, Feb. 21. Age 26--Finished novel Noli Me Tangere in Berlin.

Travelled in Austria, Switzerland and Italy.

July 3.--Sailed from Marseilles.

Aug. 5.--Arrived in Manila. Travelled in nearby provinces with a
Spanish lieutenant, detailed by the Governor-General, as escort.

1888, Feb.--Sailed for Japan via Hongkong.

Feb. 28.-Apr. 13. Age 27--A guest at Spanish Legation, Tokyo, and
travelling in Japan.

April-May.--Travelling in the United States.

May 24.--In London, studying in the British Museum to edit Morga's
1609 Philippine History.

1889, March. Age 28.--In Paris, publishing Morga's History. Published
"The Philippines A Century Hence" in La Solidaridad, a Filipino
fortnightly review, first of Barcelona and later of Madrid.

1890, Feb.-July. Age 29.--In Belgium and Holland, finishing El
Filibusterismo (The Reign of Greed), which is the sequel to Noli
Me Tangere.

Published "The Indolence of the Filipino" in La Solidaridad.

Aug. 4.--Returned to Madrid to confer with countrymen on the Philippine
situation, then constantly growing worse.

1891, Jan. 27.--Left Madrid for France.

Nov. Age 30.--Arranging for a Filipino agricultural colony in British
North Borneo.

Practiced medicine in Hongkong.

1892, June 26. Age 31--Returned to Manila under Governor-General
Despujol's safe conduct.

Organized mutual aid economic society Liga Filipina.

July 6.--Ordered deported to Dapitan, but the decree and charges were
kept secret from him.

Taught school and conducted a hospital during exile, patients coming
from China coast ports for treatment. Fees thus earned were used to
beautify the town. Arranged a water system and had the plaza lighted.

1896, Aug. 1. Age 35--Left Dapitan en route to Spain as a volunteer
surgeon for the Cuban yellow fever hospitals. Carried letters of
recommendation from Governor-General Blanco.

Aug. 7.-Sept. 3.--On Spanish cruiser Castilla in Manila Bay.

Sailed for Spain on Spanish mail steamer and just after leaving
Port Said was confined to cabin as a prisoner on cabled order from
Manila. (Governor-General Blanco's promotion had been purchased by
Rizal's enemies to secure appointment of a governor-general subservient
to them, the servile Polavieja.)

Oct. 5.--Placed in Montjuich Castle dungeon on arrival in Barcelona
and the same day re-embarked for Manila. Friends and countrymen in
London by cable made an unsuccessful effort for a Habeas Corpus writ
at Singapore. On arrival in Manila was placed in Fort Santiago dungeon.

Dec. 3.--Charged with treason, sedition and forming illegal societies,
the prosecution arguing that he was responsible for the deeds of
those who read his writings.

Dec. 12.--Wrote poem "My Last Farewell" and concealed it in an alcohol
cooking lamp, after appearing in a courtroom where the judges made
no effort to check those who cried out for his death.

Dec. 15.--Wrote an address to insurgent Filipinos to lay down their
arms because their insurrection was at that time hopeless. Address
not made public but added to the charges against him.

Dec. 26.--Formally condemned to death by Spanish court martial.

Pi y Margall, who had been president of the Spanish Republic, pleaded
with the Prime Minister for Rizal's life, but the Queen Regent could
not forgive his having referred in one of his writings to the murder
by, and suicide of, her relative, Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria.

Dec. 30.--Married in Fort Santiago death cell to Josephine Bracken,
Irish, the adopted daughter of a blind American who came to Dapitan
for treatment.

Age 35 years, 6 months, 11 days. Shot on the Luneta, Manila, at 7:30
a. m., and buried in a secret grave in Paco Cemetery. (Entry of death
made on back flyleaf of Paco Church Register, among suicides.)

1897, Jan.--Commemorated by Spanish Freemasons who dedicated a tablet
to his memory, in their Grand Lodge hall in Madrid, as a martyr
to Liberty.

1898, Aug.--Grave sought, immediately after the American capture of
Manila, by Filipinos who placed over it, in Paco cemetery, a cross
inscribed simply "December 30, 1896." Since his death his name had
never been spoken by his countrymen, but all references had been to
"The Dead" (El Difunto).

Dec. 30.--Memorial services held by Filipinos, and American soldiers
on duty carried their arms reversed.

1911, June 19.--Birth semi-centennial observed in all public schools
by act of Philippine Legislature.

1912, Dec. 30.--Ashes transferred to the Rizal Mausoleum on the Luneta
with impressive public ceremonies.



REFERENCES

A READING LIST


RIZAL, JOSÉ.--The Monkey and the Tortoise. A Tagalog tale told in
English and illustrated by Rizal. Manila, 1912.

--Elias and Salome. An unpublished chapter from the original Noli Me
Tangere manuscript.

--The Whole Truth. (La Verdad para Todos.) A defense of the Filipinos.

--By Telephone (Por Teléfono). A satire.

--The Philippines A Century Hence (Filipinas Dentro de Cien Años). A
forecast of the future.

--The Indolence of the Filipino (La Indolencia de los Filipinos). An
answer to criticism.

--My Last Thought and other Poems. Translations by Charles Derbyshire
and A. P. Fergusson.

--Mariang Makiling. A folk tale.

(These titles are in the Noli Me Tangere Quarter-Centennial Series,
edited by Austin Craig. Translations are by Charles Derbyshire.)
Manila, 1912.

--An Eagle Flight: A Filipino Novel. Adapted from Noli Me Tangere, with
a short sketch of Rizal's life. Anonymous translator. New York, 1900.

--Friars and Filipinos. An abridged translation of Noli Me Tangere
by F.E. Gannett. New York, 1900.

--The Social Cancer. Charles Derbyshire's translation of Noli Me
Tangere. Manila and New York, 1912.

--The Reign of Greed. Charles Derbyshire's translation of El
Filibusterismo. Manila and New York, 1912.

BLUMENTRITT, F.--Life of José Rizal. Translated from the German by
H.W. Bray. Singapore, 1898.

--Views of Doctor Rizal, the Filipino Scholar, upon Race
Differences. Translated from the German by R.L. Packard. Popular
Science Monthly, Vol. 61 (July, 1902), pages 222-229.

HALSTEAD, MURAT.--The Story of the Philippines. Pages 190-201 give
a translation of Rizal's "The Vision of Friar Rodriguez" (La Visión
de Fray Rodriguez) by F.M. de Rivas. Chicago, 1898.

CLIFFORD, Sir HUGH.--The Story of José Rizal, the Filipino. In
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 172 (Nov., 1902), pages 620-638.

CRAIG, AUSTIN.--Readings from Rizal. A series of selections from
Rizal's novels, in volume 1 of "The Philippine Teacher." Manila, 1905.

--The Rizal Story in Pictures. A series of twenty-one post cards with
authentic illustrations and explanations. Manila, 1908.

--The Story of José Rizal, the Greatest Man of the Brown Race. Manila,
1909.

--Lineage, Life and Labors of José Rizal. Manila and Yonkers-on-Hudson,
1912.

--Particulars of the Philippines' Pre-Spanish Past. Dr. Rizal's "Ibn
Batutu's Tawalisi the Northern Part of the Philippines" appears on
pages 20-22. Manila, 1916.

CRAIG-FEE.--Rizal, the Martyr-Hero of the Philippines. An imaginative
account, expanding the known facts, for youthful readers. In
"Philippine Education." Manila, 1913.

BLAIR-ROBERTSON.--The Philippine Islands 1493-1898. Rizal's annotations
to Morga's 1609 History of the Philippines appear among the notes in
Vols. XV and XVI. Cleveland, Ohio, 1904.



Brief sketches of Rizal's life and work may be found in every
encyclopedia published since 1898, the modern histories of the
Philippines have extended references to him and the numerous recent
works on the Philippines all attempt estimates of his influence upon
his countrymen.



DIPLOMA OF MERIT WON BY JOSÉ RIZAL


In a literary competition in honor of Spain's greatest writer,
Cervantes, held in Manila in 1880, the Liceo Artistico-Literario
offered a gold ring as first prize and the Economic Society of the
Friends of the Country gave the winner a diploma of merit. Rizal's
allegory, "The Council of the Gods" was preferred by the judges,
all Spaniards. But when the envelopes containing the contestants'
names were opened, there was objection to giving first prize to a
Filipino when prominent Spaniards had taken part in the contest. Rizal
says that he was hissed off the stage when he appeared in answer to
the reading of his name. Manila newspapers of that period dared not
speak of the incident openly but there were several veiled allusions
to it. One writer sarcastically said that medical students should be
forbidden to write poetry.


THE COUNCIL OF THE GODS

"We gods and goddesses, met on Mount Olympus, find that the greatest
three authors in the world's history are of equal merit. So in justice
equal respect must be paid them. To Homer we award fame's trumpet,
to Vergil the lyre of glory, and to Cervantes the laurel wreath of
immortal honor."



TO THE PHILIPPINE YOUTH


      "Hold high the brow serene,
    O youth, where now you stand;
    Let the bright sheen,
    Of your grace be seen,
    Fair hope of my Fatherland!"


First verse of the winning poem, won by Rizal at the age of 17 in
a public competition open to "Indians and Mestizos". By these two
names, the Spaniard called, and divided, the Filipinos.



MY LAST THOUGHT


"Farewell, beloved Fatherland, thou sunny clime of ours,
Pearl of the Orient Ocean, our lost Paradise!
For thee my life I give, nor mourn its saddened hours;
And were't more bright, strewn less with thorns and more with flowers,
For thee I still would give it, a welcome sacrifice."



RIZAL'S "HYMN TO LABOR"

Words by José Rizal

(Arranged from Chas. Derbyshire's translation; lines in different
order.)

Tune of "The Wearing of the Green"



RIZAL'S "MARIA CLARA'S LULLABY"

Words by José Rizal

(Chas. Derbyshire's translation)

Music by Juan Hernandez



PHILIPPINE NATIONAL HYMN

Written in Spanish by José Palma

Music by I. Felipe

(The versifier of the English translation prefers not to have his
name appear.)



HAIL, PHILIPPINES!

Words by L. H. Theobald

Music arranged from the Toreador's song in the opera "CARMEN"





*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Rizal's own story of his life" ***

Doctrine Publishing Corporation provides digitized public domain materials.
Public domain books belong to the public and we are merely their custodians.
This effort is time consuming and expensive, so in order to keep providing
this resource, we have taken steps to prevent abuse by commercial parties,
including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.

We also ask that you:

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Doctrine Publishing
Corporation's ISYS search for use by individuals, and we request that you
use these files for personal, non-commercial purposes.

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort
to Doctrine Publishing's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a
large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the use of
public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.

+ Keep it legal -  Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for
ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just because
we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States,
that the work is also in the public domain for users in other countries.
Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we
can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of any specific book is
allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Doctrine Publishing
ISYS search  means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.

About ISYS® Search Software
Established in 1988, ISYS Search Software is a global supplier of enterprise
search solutions for business and government.  The company's award-winning
software suite offers a broad range of search, navigation and discovery
solutions for desktop search, intranet search, SharePoint search and embedded
search applications.  ISYS has been deployed by thousands of organizations
operating in a variety of industries, including government, legal, law
enforcement, financial services, healthcare and recruitment.



Home