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

the careful and obliging proofreader.



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 Project Gutenberg's Rizal's own story of his life, by Jose Rizal