CHAPTER XVII

RESULTS AND INFLUENCES

In this long conflict character shone forth and latent ability, refuting old slanders on the race. The Filipino disclosed himself. By ancient repute the Malayan was cruel and treacherous; the test of warfare showed him to be much more humane than the Spaniard and much more sensible of honor and faith. He had been described as incapable of combined and sustained activities; he revealed himself as organizing a government out of chaos, coördinating the energies of peoples unused to common effort, launching a democracy founded upon the most advanced ideas of political philosophy, defending it with skill and tenacious courage comparable to the best traditions of the Swiss mountaineers. Men whose talents had never been suspected because they had never had a chance to function arose in the Filipino ranks to astonish their enemies and overwhelm prejudice. Great commanders appeared like Luna and del Pilar; statesmen and thinkers like Felipe Calderon; and profoundly philosophical and illuminating intellects like Apolinario Mabini.

Next to Rizal himself, this was the greatest genius the Islands had produced and one that would have deserved eminence in any country or any time. He was come of poor people in the province of Batangas and had won an education partly through the pathetic sacrifices of his mother and partly through his own exertions, which in that time and place amounted to heroism. He was first in a school at Tanauan and then at the College of San Juan de Letran in Manila, where he earned his way by teaching. His mother’s hope had been that he would take holy orders; but his studies had made him skeptical instead of reverent; he revolted at the priesthood, and chose the bar, to which he was admitted in 1894.

Like Bonifacio he was a great reader, but on different lines. The warehouse porter, hanging by night over such books as he could lay hands upon, was set aflame by the struggles of mankind against oppression, particularly by that which is the epitome and symbol of them all, the French Revolution. Mabini, cool and even-pulsed philosopher, was concerned not so much with the physical aspects of revolution as with its causes. If the human story told true, revolutions were some rebound of the spirit of man against a privileged class that held or sought to hold the rest as bondmen. As this conflict between two main forces occupied so much of the history he was analyzing with his keen sure mind, and as it seemed the only thing there of enduring importance, he molded from its pages a philosophy of human life and its import not unworthy of Jefferson and Mill. The basis of everything good he conceived to be liberty; without liberty there could be no light and no progress. With a coolly measuring eye, as an architect looks at a building, he went over the system of government erected by Spain in the Philippines and estimated its fatal defects as a structure no longer tenable, knowing well that its fall was overdue.

Much more than Rizal he seems to have seized the fundamental facts about man’s capacity for self-government and the only way to uncover and develop that capacity. He, too, was of the cloister, and might have slipped likewise into the darling errors of the schoolmen about the magic keys to this wisdom believed to be buried in a classical education. He made no such error. Not even Jefferson was of a clearer faith. He accepted the whole democratic theory of government, not sentimentally but as the ultimate fact in human existence. On philosophical grounds, for unassailable reasons, popular rule was right; in the end the only human wisdom was the general thought. In the verdict of the majority he saw plainly the manifestation of the will of God.

He was not influenced by Bonifacio, of whose existence he seems to have been unaware until 1892. As one of the earliest members of La Líga Filipina he may have been influenced at one time by Rizal; but there was little chance and less need that he should be influenced by anybody. His was a mind accustomed to independent action; it seems always to have moved to its own conclusions in its own way.

He was an early recruit to the Katipunan, where, after a time, he became one of Bonifacio’s chief advisers. A stroke of paralysis crippled his body but left his mind clear and active. When the storm burst and official lunacy raged in Manila, his physical infirmities prevented his flight with his fellows. Trapped among other unfortunates, a drum-head doomed him to be shot. It is likely the Government knew little of his real connection with the Katipunan and nothing of his capacity to cause trouble. The sentence of death upon him was delayed. At last, homicidal mania spent itself even in Manila. Then, because of his physical condition, he was set at liberty.

This was in 1897, when revolution had changed all the outlook in the Philippines and the governing class was beginning to doubt its destiny. For the next year he was undergoing medical treatment at the hot springs of Los Baños. In the summer of 1898 he made his way to the revolutionary forces and was thereafter their ablest counselor, the shrewd adviser of the commanders in the field, the first voice in all negotiations, and to the masses of people the endless source of inspiration; for in all emergencies, however sudden or perplexing, here was the heart indomitable.

In him as in Rizal, the mysteries of an unusual power resolve themselves at last into unusual character. What was Mabini’s character may be gathered from this decalogue he composed for his own guidance and that of his countrymen:

First. Thou shalt love God and thine honor above all things; God as the fountain of all truth, of all justice, and of all activity; and thine honor, the only power that will oblige thee to be faithful, just, and industrious.

Second. Thou shalt worship God in the form that thy conscience may deem most righteous and worthy; for in thy conscience, which condemns thine evil deeds and praises thy good ones, speaks thy God.

Third. Thou shalt cultivate the special gifts that God has granted thee, working and studying according to thine ability, never leaving the path of righteousness and justice, in order to attain to thine own perfection, by means whereof thou shalt contribute to the progress of humanity. Thus thou shalt fulfil the mission to which God has appointed thee, and by so doing thou shalt be honored, and, being honored, thou shalt glorify thy God.

Fourth. Thou shalt love thy country after God and thine honor and more than thyself: for she is the only paradise which God has given thee in this life, the only patrimony of thy race, the only inheritance of thine ancestors, and the only hope of thy posterity; because of her, thou hast life, love, and interests, happiness, honor, and God.

Fifth. Thou shalt strive for the happiness of thy country before thine own, making of her the kingdom of reason, of justice, and of labor; for if she be happy, thou, together with thy family, shalt likewise be happy.

Sixth. Thou shalt strive for the independence of thy country; for only thou canst have any real interest in her advancement and exaltation, because her independence constitutes thine own liberty; her advancement, thy perfection; and her exaltation, thine own glory and immortality.

Seventh. Thou shalt not recognize in thy country the authority of any person that has not been elected by thee and thy countrymen; for authority emanates from God, and as God speaks in the conscience of every man, the person designated and proclaimed by the conscience of a whole people is the only one that can use true authority.

Eighth. Thou shalt strive for a republic and never for a monarchy in the country; for the latter exalts one or several families and founds a dynasty; the former makes a people noble and worthy through reason, great through liberty, and prosperous and brilliant through labor.

Ninth. Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself; for God has imposed upon him the obligation to help thee, as upon thee the obligation to help him, and not to do to thee what he would not have thee do unto him; but if thy neighbor, failing in this sacred duty, attempt against thy life, thy liberty, and thy interests, then thou shalt destroy and annihilate him, for the supreme law of self-preservation prevails.

Tenth. Thou shalt consider thy countryman as more than thy neighbor; thou shalt see in him thy friend, thy brother, or at least thy comrade, with whom thou art bound by one fate, by the same joys and sorrows, and by common aspirations and interests.

Therefore, as long as national frontiers subsist, raised and maintained by the selfishness of race and of family, with thy countryman alone shalt thou unite in a perfect solidarity of purpose and interest, in order to have force, not only to resist the common enemy but also to attain all the aims of human life.

Meantime, in the great events that had shaken this ancient theater of bold deeds, the freedom of which Mabini and his fellows had dreamed had more than once lightened before them. With the news of the discovery of the Katipunan and the cruelties of the hysteria in high places that followed next, the revolution spread swiftly to the provinces. Cavite, Batangas, Zambales, Tarlac rose as the clans rose in Scotland; a remarkable fact, for here had been no preparation, and the Katipunan had not gone far beyond Manila walls. Nothing would seem to show more plainly that the psychology of the people had been all misread. At Rizal’s school he had noticed that the Spaniards deemed the natives submissive to kicks and insults when in reality wrath burned in the native heart. It was so here; while the “miserable Indio” had borne in silence the lash of the governing class he had not ceased at any time to resent its sting, and at the first call to revolt the whole Island went aflame. In a week the comfortable fictions about Filipino incapacity were shattered by such ponderable facts as shot and shell, and Spain was retreating before the gravest crisis it had known in its 325 years of mismanagement.

Bonifacio’s forces increased daily. He gave battle to the regular troops sent against him and sometimes he beat them, sometimes he was beaten; but never was he dismayed. He developed captains among the young men that flocked around him; with others, this Emilio Aguinaldo of whom we have spoken. This was a youth lately out of college that had never set a squadron in the field nor the divisions of a battle knew more than Cassio. Yet he quickly showed such natural talents for command that he made his fame enduring among the military leaders of all times. He was born in the city of Cavite in March, 1869, and had studied at the College of San Juan with no more thought of being a soldier than of being a chiropodist. He had read his horoscope in the face of fate and perceived that he was to be a farmer and lead a quiet life among dingles and rice-plots. No sooner had he fingered his degree at San Juan than he hastened to fulfil this modest destiny by taking a farm in Cavite province and trying to better the yield of rice there. He had character, a presence, and a good mind; he had not been farming long when he was made municipal captain of his district. From his youth he seems to have been strong for nationalism, being a type of the class of young men rising in all parts of the Islands on whom the Spanish collar rested uneasily if at all, the class of which Rizal was the best example and natural leader. In 1894 he joined the Katipunan. When Father Gil pulled the strings and revealed, to the fevered imagination of the Spaniards, the lair of this frightful monster, Aguinaldo was one of the first to proclaim the revolution. Chiefly it was his work that made Cavite an insurrectionary stronghold. In whatever he undertook he showed the executive faculty, the power to get things done quickly and efficiently, and a cool, hardy courage that no emergency could shake. Bonifacio advanced him to the highest commands, and in each instance the result justified the election, for the man had undoubtedly an instinct for war.

On March 12, 1897, seven months after the Katipunan explosion, a convention of the revolutionists met to establish a Provisional Government. No doubt Bonifacio, still head of the Katipunan, expected to be made president of the Provisional Republic, also; but the convention’s choice was Aguinaldo. Intrigue may have played some part in this dénouement; but the impulse to it was Aguinaldo’s brilliant operations in the field—Napoleon and the Directoire again. Bonifacio was offered the place of secretary of the interior. He angrily refused it and took to the mountains with his brothers. In trying to arrest him a party of soldiers wounded him to death.

For months the war was fought with varying chances. Sometimes the Filipinos routed the Spaniards; [230] sometimes they were driven back. Fresh troops came from Spain; gradually the revolutionists retired into the mountains; but it was evident that no forces the Spaniards were likely to gather would be enough to suppress this uprising. What Spain faced was such years of wearying warfare as had drained her treasury and brought her shame in Cuba. It was a prospect the Government viewed with no satisfaction. Another governor-general, Primo de Rivera, came out to take the place of Polavieja, the foolish man that had led the mad hunt after Katipunanists. Once before de Rivera had been governor-general; by some extravagance he was believed to understand the Filipinos and to be their friend. He now sought to end a strife so unpromising of any result except deficits. A meeting was arranged with the insurgent chiefs, at which a treaty [231] was patched together whereby the Filipinos were to have all the reforms and rights they had demanded and had fought for, except actual independence. When we come to look to-day at these sweeping changes we should note that prominent among them was the triumph of the people so long delayed over the orders. These were to be expelled or secularized. [232] Complete religious freedom was explicitly guaranteed—and no more friars, no more System. By this token it would seem, then, that Rizal had already conquered. He exposed the orders; the orders killed him, but apparently wrought thereby their own ruin.

Amnesty for all that had taken part in the revolution was promised, with momentous changes in the methods of government. There was to be no longer an irresponsible oligarchy ruling as it pleased; the Philippines were to have representation in the Spanish Parliament; they were to emerge from the darkness that fostered iniquity and dwell in the critical spotlights of civilization. There was to be a free press, free speech, free assembly; there were to be radical reforms in the courts and other desirable novelties. A sum of money was to be deposited by the Spanish Government to guarantee the fulfilment of these pledges and to provide for the families of the revolutionists killed in the war. Aguinaldo and his commanders were to retire from the country.

This was signed December 14, 1897. In two months it was evident that the Spanish Government had no intention to keep any of the pledges thus made. The orders abated nothing of their power and insolence; the captured revolutionists were rigorously punished and often horribly mishandled; there was no free speech, no free press; no improvements were made in the courts; only a part of the guarantee fund was deposited. The revolution was resumed with new fury. Again the Filipinos drove the Spanish regulars before them until the noise of their guns was heard in Manila itself, when the blowing up of the American battle-ship Maine in the harbor of Havana gave to the relations between Spain and the United States a new and startling aspect.

Soon after the declaration of war between these nations and before the battle of Manila Bay, Commodore Dewey invited Aguinaldo to join him. On May 11, 1898, the Filipino leader landed at Cavite and took command of the insurgent army. From that time the Spanish troops met with nothing but disaster. Step by step they were driven (by native troops and these only) out of every stronghold, not only in Luzon but in the other Islands, until August when they were shut up in Manila and completely surrounded with Filipino trenches, while Dewey’s ships held the sea approaches. On August 10, Aguinaldo captured the Manila waterworks, and had the city at his mercy. On August 13 it surrendered, not to him that really had reduced it, but to the American naval and land forces; although of such land forces there was but a handful.

Aguinaldo had made Mabini the president of his council and secretary of foreign affairs. Mabini now bent himself to organize a constitutional government, and if the achievement that followed had been staged nearer to the center of the world’s attention it would have been hailed as a triumph of constructive statesmanship. On September 15, the first Philippine Congress met at Malolos, about twenty-five miles north of Manila, and proceeded to draft for the Philippine Republic a constitution that for wisdom and sound democratic philosophy may be compared with any other similar chart by which any government ever was steered. On November 29, 1898, the Congress adopted this constitution, and on the following January 21, the Philippine Republic, complete and functioning, was installed in place of the Provisional Government. Mabini was chief justice of the Supreme Court.

The United States refused to recognize the new republic, but, in accordance with the absurd treaty of Paris, insisted upon its own sovereignty over all the Philippines. For twenty million dollars it had bought of Spain a title that Spain did not possess. We need not dwell long on the deplorable strife that now ensued between the American and Filipino forces. [233] On February 4, the Americans advanced into territory held by the Filipino army, and for the next two years war raged. The Filipinos, although badly armed and always outnumbered, showed a tenacity, a courage, and a military prowess that continually astonished the Americans and won their candid and reiterated praise. Much of the credit for the skilful handling of the Filipino forces was due to General Antonio Luna, Aguinaldo’s chief of staff, whose natural aptitude for arms had been developed by study in the best schools of Europe. When he lost his life in June, 1899, the Filipino cause suffered a heavy blow, but not so heavy as its enemies expected. For the singular fact was to be noted that out of the body of natives once despised and scornfully classed as “brethren of the water-buffalo” arose men capable of inspiring the soldiers of a hopeless cause and of leading them well in desperately fought battles. If for the moment we can lay aside nationalistic consciousness, the dauntless strivings of the Filipinos against the Americans will appear worthy of a place in best records of the struggles of the weak against the strong.

On March 23, 1901, President Aguinaldo was captured, and thereafter the war slowly subsided until on July 4, 1902, President Roosevelt issued a proclamation of amnesty and the American Government took up the work of reconstruction, of which the first purpose was to prepare the natives for the independence repeatedly promised them.

Reviewing this chapter (none too edifying) in American history, one cannot well escape the feeling that the American success was stained with a needlessly harsh treatment of Mabini, the Thomas Jefferson of the Filipino cause. The American forces captured him in September, 1899, and kept him in prison for a year. He had been at liberty a scant six months when he was arrested again and carried a prisoner to Guam, [234] where he was kept two years, returning home to die. While he was under examination by American army officers, occurred a characteristic passage. He was asked if he had heard any one talking in favor of Philippine independence.

“I have,” said Mabini, speaking always in the same low, even voice.

“Whom have you heard?”

“Myself.”

“What? Are you opposed to the rule of the United States in the Philippines?”

“I certainly am. I am opposed to the rule of any power here except that of the people of these Islands. If you wish to shoot somebody for holding such sentiments, shoot me. Do not shoot or imprison those to whom I have urged this doctrine; do not waste time in hunting for them. Shoot me, the author of it. I am ready whenever you are.”

He died in Manila, May 13, 1903. Next to that of Rizal, his memory is dearest to the Filipino people.

The historian and the philosopher considering these typical passages in the long struggle upward will see that, while ostensibly the Philippine Republic had been defeated, in reality it had triumphed. Instead of being crushed and obliterated, it had never ceased to exist. To this day it is not a memory but a living organism of veritable and powerful influence. Its flag flies side by side with that of the United States on every public building; it functions in effect in every session of the Philippine legislature. So far as one can see now it was a deathless creation that Rizal unconsciously called into being, and there could be no more impressive lesson in the inevitable destiny of democracy than the reflection that the cruelties intended to destroy freedom in the Philippines really gave to it enduring life. When so easily the governing class shattered Rizal’s body and silenced his physical voice, it did but give wings to his teachings, vindicating them at once and multiplying them. If the result is not yet complete and the Philippines lack still their national entity, no one that knows their people and no one that has studied attentively the significance the life and death of Rizal have for them will believe that this anomaly can continue. They live now under the solemn undertaking of the United States to set them free; that pledge they have accepted at its face-value; from day to day they continue in expectation of its fulfilment.

In such strange and fateful ways of which he never dreamed, Rizal has come to be the liberator of his country and the inspiration of its national life. It is a story so different from any other in the records of the human advance that it may be deemed worth the world’s attention on its own account. With arms and conflict Washington and the other patriots of his time freed America, Bolivar and San Martin freed South America, Garibaldi and Mazzini freed Italy. With an idea and an ideal Rizal freed the Philippines.

The more his brief career is studied the more it appears as apart from the ordinary aims and walks of men—singular, selfless, and admirable. If while he lived he had little recognition worthy of his great attainments, the veneration of his countrymen since his death has atoned for all former indifference anywhere. For the term of Spain’s dominion and a short time thereafter his dust remained obscurely buried. [235] When peace had come between the Americans and Filipinos both began to pay tribute to his memory. The body was disinterred from its nameless grave and reburied with high honors, civic and military. When the Filipinos came to have a measure of control over their own affairs they made a new province of the region around Manila, including Calamba, and named it Rizal. The anniversary of his death they made the national holy day. On the spot where he was killed they erected a magnificent monument, a stately and worthy memorial. Elsewhere they multiplied the tributes to his fame until by 1921 scarcely a considerable town in the Philippines was without his statue or bust or some commemoration of his story. Of the ground he had tilled in Dapitan, surrounding the little house where he had taught his school, a national park was made. In his honor the waterworks he had engineered were extended and perpetuated. From every available source the Government collected, often at great cost, the relics of his physical existence. [236]

Each return of Rizal day is marked with elaborate ceremonies; addresses are delivered to his memory; the schools hold special exercises; the press reviews his life and dwells upon its import. Year by year the earnestness of these tributes increases. Other men, as their tangible presence recedes, become more or less the lay figures of history. This man seems to become with time only the more potent and real.

Happy should be the land that has such a national hero, in whom the pitiless searchings of later years have not discovered enough of flaw to discredit any part of the homage paid him but instead cause him to appear always the more imposing figure, morally as well as intellectually. It is but truth to say that his analogue is hard to find in any nation of any color at any period of history. He had, what is so seldom to be found in the men we call great, a union of brilliant gifts and of lofty character. Of him it is never necessary to offer the Baconian apology; he was of the brightest and wisest of mankind but without an alloying trace of the mean.

Intellectually, there is no doubt he deserved the praise paid wonderingly to him by Sir Hugh Clifford and others; he was a master figure. To the capacity of his mind there seemed no normal limit; he could comprehend any subject, learn any craft, acquire any language, absorb any science. It seemed to be a mind of the order of Octopi, with tentacles that reached out and pumped up not the superficies but the heart of the matter. Hence he could out-argue the learned theologians with the most abstruse lore of their cult, discuss with the artists the recondite principles of their art, classify for entomologists and zoölogists unheard-of specimens of life, thread with economists the endless mazes of theoretical taxation, write exquisite lyrics and sing them to music of his own composing. Such are the facts of his life, however reluctant prejudice may be to acknowledge them. If there has yet appeared upon this earth what may be justly called a universal genius, it seems from the records that he was not of the white race, the world’s confident overlords, but of the misunderstood Malay.

So slowly we yield to truth when it runs counter to theories that it may be advisable to dwell for another moment on this man’s indisputable achievements. Let us say, then, that to have attained to his mastery of any two of the branches of knowledge he followed would have deserved distinction; yet he attained to this mastery in six or seven. He was one of the greatest ophthalmologists of his time; he was a great ethnologist, anthropologist, biologist, zoölogist, linguist; he was sculptor, painter, illustrator, poet, novelist, publicist, engineer, educator, reformer. With almost any of these gifts or accomplishments or whatever they may be termed, he could have won to eminence or to wealth anywhere among civilized men. He is almost the only example we have of a man marvelously endowed for material success and putting it all aside and every thought of it; putting aside, too, even the natural yearning for renown, that he might give himself entirely to the one end of benefiting his people.

Of the veritable basis for these conclusions, so strange in an age and a world that makes of disillusion a fetish, no fair-minded inquirer can have a doubt. It is but the truth that Rizal’s private life has endured the touch as surely as his public career. [237] That government of himself he began to learn at the Ateneo, that scorn of the revolt of flesh and fierce determination to put it under the dominion of spirit, he diligently fostered all his life. He had controversies and disputes; he even had quarrels (as we have seen) that might have had deadly outcome; it appears that he did not in any of these lose the perfect control of his temper. The contagion of the world’s slow stain never came near him. He looked upon life and all its phases with a coolly reasoned disdain of all things false. A hundred times he might have saved himself with one only step that the world would have applauded; he would not take that step because it would mean a compromise with the stern, iron-bound Puritan-like standard of virtue he had chosen for himself. No instance has been discovered in him of lies or equivocation. As he himself declared, he had his full share of human frailties and failings, but he managed to avoid those that scar the soul. Some of his jests, it is true, verged upon practical joking, the usual contradiction in men of a melancholy inclining. The wisdom of his marriage, for reasons that need not be gone into here, is now rather more than questionable. On the subject of the capacity of the Filipinos for immediate self-government in his own time, it seems to us clear he was gravely in error. Of the necessity of higher education as a foundation for independence he made far too much. When he held that reforms must needs come from above and could not be expected to be moved from below he must have overlooked some sure lessons of history. That naïve notion of his earlier years, that Spain would for the asking supplant exploitation with altruism was, even in his youth, hardly what men would expect from a mind so original and powerful, so sure and clear. And yet in all his relations to and great services for his country, in his incalculable contributions to the cause of eventual liberty, in his complex relations to science, art, literature, serious and valuable undertakings for the elevation of his fellows, in great trials alike and among the midges of everyday existence, the world may see in him the figure of a man: upright, alert, capable, resolute, patient, resourceful, and without guile.

As to few men it has been given to bring to the struggles of life so great a natural armament, few also have been able to wield in so short a time a power so momentous. To all the Far East he is slowly becoming a figure of inspiration and hope. To the modern Filipino world he gave an impetus and an impress it can hardly lose in generations if ever. To the movement for Philippine independence he gave vitality, character, and energy that have grown stronger year after year. Even when we consider the natural passion of the race for freedom and the long succession of revolts with which it shook Spanish rule, this remains substantially true. With his teachings first, then his sarcasms and censures, then his appeals, he showed the way to unity and drove the people along it. At his death he bequeathed to them his unquenchable yearning for liberty, while he gave them the necessary background of sacrifice for it. Whatever has been gained for nationality has been gained under this inspiration; without or beyond his knowledge, Rizal was the father of Philippine independence and the lofty model toward which Philippine life may aspire.

Those that seek to disparage the race (so called) to which he belonged find some refuge in the assertion that he was a strange and inexplicable exception to the general incompetence, a star against a background of ineptitude. Against this all just men will protest. Elsewhere the great minds of every nation have exalted that nation in the world’s esteem. The single lives that make up so much of the historic glory surrounding Greece, Rome, Italy, Holland, and our own Revolutionary period we do not sharply contrast against a darkness of general inferiority around these men, but think of them as lighting up all the land that bore them. Even if it were true that Rizal was the only great man of the Filipino people, Filipinos might well claim the same basis of judgment. But the more the leaders of the Philippine revolution are studied—Mabini, Luna, the two del Pilars, Calderon—the more men will be convinced that Rizal was the highest expression of an intellectual force, stimulated by the growing passion for liberty but still a power inherent in the race.

A race that gave such men to the world, that has at the same time proved so incontestably its capacity equally for self-expansion and for self-mastery, may well expect to be heard when asserting the foundation principles of faith and common honesty, it faces the United States and in the circle of nations demands the place it has earned.

APPENDICES

APPENDIX A

Translations of Poems by Rizal

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!

Come now, thou genius grand, And bring down inspiration; With thy mighty hand, Swifter than the wind’s violation, Raise the eager mind to higher station.

Come down with pleasing light Of art and science to the fight, O youth, and there untie The chains that heavy lie, Your spirit free to blight.

See how in flaming zone Amid the shadows thrown, The Spaniard’s holy hand A crown’s resplendent band Proffers to this Indian land.

Thou, who now wouldst rise On wings of rich emprise, Seeking from Olympian skies Songs of sweetest strain, Softer than ambrosial rain;

Thou, whose voice divine Rivals Philomel’s refrain, And with varied line Through the night benign Frees mortality from pain;

Thou, who by sharp strife Wakest thy mind to life; And the memory bright Of thy genius’ light Makest immortal in its strength;

And thou, in accents clear Of Phœbus, to Apelles dear; Or by the brush’s magic art Takest from nature’s store a part, To fix it on the simple canvas’ length;

Go forth, and then the sacred fire Of thy genius to the laurel may aspire; To spread around the fame, And in victory acclaim, Through wider spheres the human name.

Day, O happy day, Fair Filipinas, for thy land! So bless the Power to-day That places in thy way This favor and this fortune grand!

—Translated by Charles Derbyshire.

TO MY MUSE

Invoked no longer is the Muse, The lyre is out of date; The poets it no longer use, And youth its inspiration now imbues With other form and state.

If to-day our fancies aught Of verse would still require, Helicon’s hill remains unsought; And without heed we but inquire, Why the coffee is not brought.

In the place of thought sincere That our hearts may feel, We must seize a pen of steel, And with verse and line severe Fling abroad a jest and jeer.

Muse, that in the past inspired me, And with songs of love hast fired me; Go thou now to dull repose, For to-day in sordid prose I must earn the gold that hired me.

Now must I ponder deep, Meditate, and struggle on; E’en sometimes I must weep; For he who love would keep Great pain has undergone.

Fled are the days of ease, The days of love’s delight; When flowers still would please And give to suffering souls surcease From pain and sorrow’s blight.

One by one they have passed on, All I loved and moved among; Dead or married—from me gone, For all I place my heart upon By fate adverse are stung.

Go thou, too, O Muse, depart, Other regions fairer find; For my land but offers art For the laurel, chains that bind, For a temple, prisons blind.

But before thou leavest me, speak: Tell me with thy voice sublime, Thou couldst ever from me seek A song of sorrow for the weak, Defiance to the tyrant’s crime.

—Translated by Charles Derbyshire.

THE SONG OF THE TRAVELER

Like to a leaf that is fallen and withered, Tossed by the tempest from pole unto pole; Thus roams the pilgrim abroad without purpose, Roams without love, without country or soul.

Following anxiously treacherous fortune, Fortune which e’en as he grasps at it flees; Vain though the hopes that his yearning is seeking, Yet does the pilgrim embark on the seas!

Ever impelled by the invisible power, Destined to roam from the East to the West; Oft he remembers the faces of loved ones, Dreams of the day when he, too, was at rest.

Chance may assign him a tomb on the desert, Grant him a final asylum of peace; Soon by the world and his country forgotten, God rest his soul when his wanderings cease!

Often the sorrowing pilgrim is envied, Circling the globe like a sea-gull above; Little, ah, little they know what a void Saddens his soul by the absence of love.

Home may the pilgrim return in the future, Back to his loved ones his footsteps he bends; Naught will he find but the snow and the ruins, Ashes of love and the tomb of his friends,

Pilgrim, begone! Nor return more hereafter, Stranger thou art in the land of thy birth; Others may sing of their love while rejoicing, Thou once again must roam o’er the earth.

Pilgrim, begone! Nor return more hereafter, Dry are the tears that a while for thee ran; Pilgrim, begone! And forget thine affliction, Loud laughs the world at the sorrows of man.

—Translated by Arthur P. Ferguson.

SONNET: TO THE VIRGIN MARY

(Written in Manila, about the year 1880)

Dear Mary, soul of peace, our consolation, That to the heavy-stricken heart doth bring The cool sweet waters from the all-healing spring, From that skied throne where since thy coronation Our hearts are bowed in tender adoration, Lean down to hear my grief’s vague whispering, And o’er me, bruised and broken, deign to fling The shining robe of thy serene salvation. Thou art my mother, placid Mary; thou Mine only hope, my one sure source of strength. Wild is the sea and inky dark the night. One beacon shines!—the star upon thy brow. Sharp sin assails me; but thy look at length Puts sin and grief and thoughts of death to flight!

—Translated by C. E. R.

MY RETREAT

By the spreading beach where the sands are soft and fine, At the foot of the mount in its mantle of green, I have built my hut in the pleasant grove’s confine; From the forest seeking peace and a calmness divine, Rest for the weary brain and silence to my sorrow keen.

Its roof the frail palm-leaf and its floor the cane, Its beams and posts of the unhewn wood; Little there is of value in this hut so plain, And better by far in the lap of the mount to have lain, By the song and the murmur of the high sea’s flood.

A purling brook from the woodland glade Drops down o’er the stones and around it sweeps, Whence a fresh stream is drawn by the rough cane’s aid; That in the still night its murmur has made, And in the day’s heat a crystal fountain leaps.

When the sky is serene how gently it flows, And its zither unseen ceaselessly plays; But when the rains fall a torrent it goes Boiling and foaming through the rocky close. Roaring unchecked to the sea’s wide ways.

The howl of the dog and the song of the bird, And only the kalaw’s hoarse call resound; Nor is the voice of vain man to be heard, My mind to harness or my steps to begird; The woodlands alone and the sea wrap me round.

The sea, ah, the sea! for me it is all, As it massively sweeps from the worlds apart; Its smile in the morn to my soul is a call, And when in the even my faith seems to pall, It breathes with its sadness an echo to my heart.

By night an arcanum; when translucent it glows, All spangled over with its millions of lights, And the bright sky above resplendent shows; While the waves with their sighs tell of their woes— Tales that are lost as they roll to the heights.

They tell of the world when the first dawn broke, And the sunlight over their surface played; When thousands of beings from nothingness woke, To people the depths and the heights to cloak, Wherever its life-giving kiss was laid.

But when in the night the wild waves awake, And the waves in their fury begin to leap, Through the air rush the cries that my mind shake; Voices that pray, songs and moans that partake Of laments from the souls sunk down in the deep.

Then from their heights the mountains groan, And the trees shiver tremulous from great unto least; The groves rustle plaintive and the herds utter moan, For they say that the ghosts of the folk that are gone Are calling them down to their death’s merry feast.

In terror and confusion whispers the night, While blue and green flames flit over the deep; But calm reigns again with the morning’s light, And soon the bold fisherman comes into sight, As his bark rushes on and the waves sink to sleep.

So onward glide the days in my lonely abode; Driven forth from the world where once I was known, I muse o’er the fate upon me bestowed; A fragment forgotten that the moss will corrode, To hide from mankind the world in me shown.

I live in the thought of the lov’d ones left, And oft their names to my mind are borne; Some have forsaken me and some by death are reft; But now ’tis all one, as through the past I drift, That past that from me can never be torn.

For it is the friend that is with me always, That ever in sorrow keeps the faith in my soul; While through the still night it watches and prays, As here in my exile in my lone hut it stays, To strengthen my faith when doubts o’er me roll.

That faith I keep and I hope to see shine The day when the Idea prevails over might; When after the fray and death’s slow decline, Some other voice sounds, far happier than mine, To raise the glad song of the triumph of right.

I see the sky glow, refulgent and clear, As when it forced on me my first dear illusion; I feel the same wind kiss my forehead sere, And the fire is the same that is burning here To stir up youth’s blood in boiling confusion.

I breathe here the winds that perchance have pass’d O’er the fields and the rivers of my own natal shore; And mayhap they will bring on the returning blast The sighs that lov’d being upon them has cast— Messages sweet from the first love I bore.

To see the same moon, all silver’d as of yore, I feel the sad thoughts within me arise; The fond recollections of the troth we swore, Of the field and the bower and the wide sea-shore, The blushes of joy, with the silence and sighs.

A butterfly seeking the flowers and the light, Of other lands dreaming, of vaster extent; Scarce a youth, from home and love I took flight, To wander unheeding, free from doubt or affright— So in foreign lands were my brightest days spent.

I, when like a languishing bird I was fain To the home of my fathers and my love to return, Of a sudden the fierce tempest roar’d amain; So I saw my wings shatter’d and no home remain, My trust sold to others and wrecks round me burn.

Hurl’d out into exile from the land I adore, My future all dark and no refuge to seek; My roseate dreams hover round me once more, Sole treasures of all that life to me bore; The faiths of youth that with sincerity speak.

But not as of old, full of life and of grace, Do you hold out hopes of undying reward; Sadder I find you; on your lov’d face, Though still sincere, the pale lines trace The marks of the faith it is yours to guard.

You offer now, dreams, my gloom to appease, And the years of my youth again to disclose; So I thank you, O storm, and heaven-born breeze, That you knew of the hour my wild flight to ease, To cast me back down to the soil whence I rose.

By the spreading beach where the sands are soft and fine, At the foot of the mount in the pleasant grove’s confine, I have found a home in its mantle of green, In the shady woods, that peace and calmness divine, Rest for the weary brain and silence to my sorrow keen.

—Translated by Charles Derbyshire.

TO THE FLOWERS OF HEIDELBERG

Go to my native land, go, foreign flowers. Sown by the traveler on his way; And there, beneath its azure sky, Where all of my affections lie; There from the weary pilgrim say, What faith is his in that land of ours!

Go there and tell how when the dawn, Her early light diffusing, Your petals first flung open wide; His steps beside chill Neckar drawn, You see him silent by your side, Upon its Spring perennial musing.

Saw how when morning’s light, All your fragrance stealing, Whispers to you as in mirth Playful songs of love’s delight, He, too, murmurs his love’s feeling In the tongue he learned at birth.

That when the sun on Koenigstuhl’s height Pours out its golden flood, And with its slowly warming light Gives life to vale and grove and wood, He greets that sun, here only upraising, Which in his native land is at its zenith blazing.

And tell there of that day he stood, Near to a ruin’d castle gray, By Neckar’s banks, or shady wood, And pluck’d you from beside the way; Tell, too, the tale to you addressed, And how with tender care, Your bending leaves he press’d ’Twixt pages of some volume rare.

Bear then, O flowers, love’s message bear; My love to all the lov’d ones there, Peace to my country—fruitful land— Faith whereon its sons may stand, And virtue for its daughters’ care; All those belovéd creatures greet, That still around home’s altar meet.

And when you come unto its shore, This kiss I now on you bestow, Fling where the winged breezes blow; That borne on them it may hover o’er All that I love, esteem, and adore.

But though, O flowers, you come unto that land, And still perchance your colors hold; So far from this heroic strand, Whose soil first bade your life unfold, Still here your fragrance will expand; Your soul that never quits the earth Whose light smiled on you at your birth.

—Translated by Charles Derbyshire.

YOU ASK ME FOR VERSES

You bid me now to strike the lyre, That mute and torn so long has lain: And yet I cannot wake the strain, Nor will the Muse one note inspire! Coldly it shakes in accents dire, As if my soul itself to wring, And when its sound seems but to fling A jest at its own low lament; So in sad isolation pent, My soul can neither feel nor sing.

There was a time—ah, ’tis too true— But that time long ago has past— When upon me the Muse had cast Indulgent smile and friendship’s due; But of that age now all too few The thoughts that with me yet will stay; As from the hours of festive play There linger on mysterious notes, And in our minds the memory floats Of minstrelsy and music gay.

A plant I am, that scarcely grown, Was torn from out its Eastern bed, Where all around perfume is shed, And life but as a dream is known; The land that I can call my own, By me forgotten ne’er to be, Where trilling birds their song taught me, And cascades with their ceaseless roar, And all along the spreading shore The murmurs of the sounding sea.

While yet in childhood’s happy day, I learned upon its sun to smile, And in my breast there seems the while Seething volcanic fires to play. A bard I was, my wish alway To call upon the fleeting wind, With all the force of verse and mind: “Go forth, and spread around its flame, From zone to zone with glad acclaim, And earth to heaven together bind!”

But it I left, and now no more— Like a tree that is broken and sere— My natal gods bring the echo clear Of songs that in past times they bore; Wide seas I cross’d to foreign shore, With hope of change and other fate; My folly was made clear too late, For in the place of good I sought The seas reveal’d unto me naught, But made death’s specter on me wait.

All these fond fancies that were mine, All love, all feeling, all emprise, Were left beneath the sunny skies, Which o’er that flowery region shine; So press no more that plea of thine, For songs of love from out a heart That coldly lies a thing apart; Since now with tortur’d soul I haste Unresting o’er the desert waste, And lifeless gone is all the art.

—Translated by Charles Derbyshire.

MY LAST FAREWELL

Farewell, dear Fatherland, clime of the sun caress’d, Pearl of the Orient seas, our Eden lost! Gladly now I go to give thee this faded life’s best, And were it brighter, fresher, or more blest, Still would I give it thee, nor count the cost.

On the field of battle, ’mid the frenzy of fight, Others have given their lives, without doubt or heed; The place matters not—cypress or laurel or lily white, Scaffold or open plain, combat or martyrdom’s plight, ’Tis ever the same, to serve our home and country’s need.

I die just when I see the dawn break, Through the gloom of night, to herald the day; And if color is lacking my blood thou shalt take, Pour’d out at need for thy dear sake, To dye with its crimson the waking ray.

My dreams, when life first opened to me, My dreams, when the hopes of youth beat high, Were to see thy lov’d face, O gem of the Orient sea, From gloom and grief, from care and sorrow free; No blush on thy brow, no tear in thine eye.

Dream of my life, my living and burning desire, All hail! cries the soul that is now to take flight; All hail! And sweet it is for thee to expire; To die for thy sake, that thou mayst aspire; And sleep in thy bosom eternity’s long night.

If over my grave some day thou seest grow, In the grassy sod, a humble flower, Draw it to thy lips and kiss my soul so, While I may feel on my brow in the cold tomb below The touch of thy tenderness, thy breath’s warm power.

Let the moon beam over me soft and serene, Let the dawn shed over me its radiant flashes, Let the wind with sad lament over me keen; And if on my cross a bird should be seen, Let it trill there its hymn of peace to my ashes.

Let the sun draw the vapors up to the sky, And heavenward in purity bear my tardy protest; Let some kind soul o’er my untimely fate sigh, And in the still evening a prayer be lifted on high From thee, O my country, that in God I may rest.

Pray for all those that hapless have died, For all who have suffered the unmeasur’d pain; For our mothers that bitterly their woes have cried, For widows and orphans, for captives by torture tried; And then for thyself that redemption thou mayst gain.

And when the dark night wraps the graveyard around, With only the dead in their vigil to see; Break not my repose or the mystery profound, And perchance thou mayst hear a sad hymn resound; ’Tis I, O my country, raising a song unto thee.

When even my grave is remembered no more, Unmark’d by never a cross nor a stone; Let the plow sweep through it, the spade turn it o’er, That my ashes may carpet thy earthly floor, Before into nothingness at last they are blown.

Then will oblivion bring to me no care, As over thy vales and plains I sweep; Throbbing and cleansed in thy space and air, With color and light, with song and lament I fare, Ever repeating the faith that I keep.

My Fatherland ador’d, that sadness to my sorrow lends, Beloved Filipinas, hear now my last good-by! I give thee all: parents and kindred and friends; For I go where no slave before the oppressor bends, Where faith can never kill, and God reigns e’er on high!

Farewell to you all, from my soul torn away, Friends of my childhood in the home dispossessed! Give thanks that I rest from the wearisome day! Farewell to thee, too, sweet friend that lightened my way; Beloved creatures all, farewell! In death there is rest!

—Translated by Charles Derbyshire.

TO EDUCATION

That goddess of garnered ages that sows For flowers of virtue perennial seeds, As upward dispensing her light she goes, Handfast the fatherland, too, she leads. The breath of her quickening summons she blows Like winds that bear life to the blossomless meads, And Wisdom along her pathway upsprings And Hope is revived in new bourgeonings.

Ay, she has put by for this fatherland The mortal allures of sleep and of rest, To weave green laurels with her white hand On the forehead of Science or Art to be prest! If on some aureate morrow we stand Forth gazing as one from a mountain’s crest, Her spirit that led us from steep to steep There will our faltering footsteps keep.

Wherever her gleaming white throne may arise, There with bared brow goes resolute youth; Error gives back from the glance of her eyes, Larger and luminous made with Truth; Vice before her cowering lies, Pallid and hurtless, with Crime the uncouth. For she has a magic all potent to make Wild nations tamest for her sweet sake.

Beneath that throne the fountain is flowing That waters the plants, the forests, the plains; Her placid abundance for ever outgoing For ever increases the store that remains; In the groves that along her rivers are growing The spell of her quiet loveliness reigns; If thence to rude conflict the summons sound In her is man’s ultimate triumph found.

In her lips is all lore to hearten and guide The pilgrim that heavenward plods his way, In her spirit a voice sagacious to chide Him that has purpose but for a day; As a shore lashed vainly of impotent tides Is her faith that knows not of fear or dismay, As she rises with hand outstretched toward the portals Where beckon the vistas celestial to mortals.

Where misery sits in its darkness and need, Behold her lighting the living flame; She fetters the filching fingers of Greed, Gives joy for sorrow and honor for shame. Who takes to his heart her uttermost creed Makes nobler his life and loftier his aim, And hers is the cool and dextrous art That heals the old hurts in the generous heart.

The lighthouse stands on the eternal rock By the storm-harried seas oft beaten and battered; The hurricane bellows, the mad waves shock— On its stirless walls they rise and are shattered, Till Ocean drives back his disorderly flock By their futile assailings affrighted and scattered. So with this goddess it is, whose light Ill cannot dim through the stormiest night.

Sapphires might serve of her splendors to tell, Or diamonds weigh out the worth of her glory, And still fall short of the virtues that swell In the breasts of her sons that have mastered her story. From flowers of her planting, their sight or their smell, Vanishes Self, foul, haggard, and hoary, But boundless her blessings on them whose thought Traces the plan that the Nazarene wrought.

Around the ocean’s chrysoprase brim The Dawn, approaching, broadcast will send Purple and scarlet, now bright and once dim, And yet their gorgeous painting suspend When the sun draws nigh, and in honor of him Show nothing but golden. So shall ascend The goddess of knowledge and pour from above Transfiguring light on the land we love.

—Translated by C. E. R.

APPENDIX B

RIZAL AS A PATRIOT, AUTHOR, AND SCIENTIST

By Francis Burton Harrison, Governor-General 1915–21

[Of all the governor-generals the Philippines have had, Mr. Harrison was the most beloved by the islanders. He seemed to have an instinctive sympathy with them and after his retirement from office testified to their worth in a remarkable book, “The Cornerstone of Philippine Independence.” The comments that follow are extracts from an address he delivered at the laying of the corner-stone of Rizal Hall, Philippine University, December 15, 1919.]

Addressing a university audience, I have selected three points in the life and writing of Dr. Rizal for your consideration. First is his patriotism. This university must devote its best efforts to teaching the students of to-day and those of coming generations that form of pure and unselfish patriotism that we find in the writings and sayings of Dr. Rizal. We have been gratified to follow the course in debate and in action of the students of this university in devoting their attention in a purely non-partizan way to the consideration of public questions of the day, but I address myself to the faculty as well as to the students for consideration of the form which that patriotism should take. In the days of my grandfather young men in America went to Germany to study at the universities. That was the golden age when the teachings and memory of Goethe, Schiller, Lessing, and Heine inspired the youth of the land and brought about a political movement that was crushed and ended in 1848 in the death of liberalism and the beginning of modern autocracy. Those of us that were educated in German literature can scarcely understand the Germany of the last three decades, and yet, in my opinion, their devotion to the religion of brutality and force is to be found in the teachings of their modern university professors—an example that has terrified all mankind and threatened the liberties of the world. So I say the teaching of pure patriotism must always be dedicated to the promotion of liberties, the liberty of thought, of the individual, to the care of the welfare of the common people, and for the progress and advancement in modern science of learning of the people of the Philippine Islands.

The literary aspect of Rizal’s works should commend itself to each of you as an inspiration to do your own duty. I think no man can read Rizal’s novels without feeling his powerful impulse of sympathy for and understanding of the people of this country. We can be moved not only by his profound reading of human nature, but we can also be inspired to emulate, if we may, the high level of talent for which his name will ever be famous in the history of literature. Here in the Philippines I would, if I could, arouse you to more earnest devotion to a literary career. You have natural advantages second to no country in the world. Your history is replete with incidents and romance and your present latter-day development is a true inspiration to the youth of the world in all countries. Last winter when I returned to New York for my first vacation home I remember one particularly dark and gloomy day when the people on the streets, which are nothing more than cañons between high buildings of stone and glass, were jostling one another without a spark of human sympathy or appreciation, conscious competitors in the struggle for the survival of the fittest; and my mind went back to those scenes of every-day life in the Philippines, to this land of lofty mountains, of clear water running to the sea, the sunsets across Mariveles Mountain, the dawn over Mount Arayat, the blue haze upon the rice-fields in the evening—all the familiar scenes and sounds of a life animate by the sun and made happy by the richness of nature. As I remembered the deep and tender lights of the coconut groves and the busy industry of your daily life, I said to myself, “There is a country which could inspire any man to literary efforts with all its wealth of romance.” When I recall the history of the Philippine Islands, the coming of the Christians with the sword and flaming cross, the coming of the Mohammedans, with the crescent and the crooked creese and their cry in many a hard-fought battle, the enterprise of the Spaniard in spiritual teachings as well as in material investments, the shouts of Legaspi’s sailors across Manila Bay, the guns of Dewey so many generations later, the efforts of our country to establish here our principles of democracy, it seems to me that any young man or woman born upon this soil and inspired by these ideas has an opportunity to take a place in the very foremost ranks of literature and history and show to the world not only what has been done here in education but what the world may expect of the Filipino people when they take their rank as an independent member of the brotherhood of nations.

In the scientific aspect of his teachings Rizal ranked high in public appreciation, higher indeed in other countries than at that time he was allowed to rank here. He was recognized for his scientific work in ethnology, in zoölogy, and in botany in England and in the leading universities of Germany. Upon his death, the most distinguished scientist in Germany of that day, Professor Virchow, stated that this was a murder of the most prominent scientist that Spain possessed. In my opinion Rizal’s greatest services to the cause of the human race were those scientific impulses which he gave to the world of his duty, and the martyrdom which he suffered was but another example of the determination of organized society in every age to eliminate those that by the pure processes of reason have arrived at new theories for the conduct and welfare of mankind. From the day of Socrates, who was put to death by the citizens of Athens for teaching the young men to think for themselves, down to that morning in December, 1896, when Rizal was done to death by the firing-squad at Bagumbayan, the pages of history have run red with the murder of men of science. In Europe of the Middle Ages the names of Roger Bacon, Giordano Bruno, Galileo, Agrippa, Campanella, Kepler, Lavoisier, of Priestly, and many others of less distinction in the annals of history have shown what struggles the human mind has been called upon to endure and to what stress the human body has been put in the efforts of science to liberate the human mind....

Bearing all these things in mind, it seems to me that we can justly appreciate Rizal’s love of science and his final martyrdom as the greatest contribution to the freedom of thought ever given by any one man to the Filipino people. This hall which we are about to dedicate, reserved as it is to be for the study of science, is the most fitting monument to the name of Rizal that could be devised. Were he alive to-day I have no doubt he would feel an infinitely greater inspiration in the thought that his name was to be attached to this great edifice and that his memory was to be preserved by the study of young Filipinos, men and women, in the natural sciences than he would be in that splendid statue erected down there on the Bagumbayan to perpetuate the memory of his patriotic death.

Now, my friends, in dedicating this edifice to progress, I believe that it will stand for progress as long as the Filipino people themselves remain progressive and as long as you will fight the battle for liberty of thought and of reason, and, I believe, also, that Dr. Rizal, if he has any conscious knowledge in those ethereal spaces to which his soul has been summoned, will summon the youth of his beloved country to dare all, to endure all, and, if needs be, to suffer all that he himself had dared, endured, or suffered in order that science may not perish from the face of the earth.

APPENDIX C

REPRESENTATIVE COOPER’S TRIBUTE

Delivered in the House of Representatives, Washington, June 19, 1902

It has been said that if American institutions had done nothing else than furnish to the world the character of George Washington, that alone would entitle them to the respect of mankind. So, sir, I say to all those that denounce the Filipinos indiscriminately as barbarians and savages, without possibility of a civilized future, that this despised race proved itself entitled to their respect and to the respect of mankind when it furnished to the world the character of José Rizal.

[Mr. Cooper then recited to the House Rizal’s “Last Farewell” as described on a foregoing page. The profound silence that fell upon the chamber at the end of this recital he broke by saying:]

Pirates! Barbarians! Savages! Incapable of civilization! How many of the civilized Caucasian slanderers of his race could ever be capable of thoughts like these, which on that awful night, as he sat alone amidst silence unbroken save by the rustling of the black plumes of the death angel at his side, poured from the soul of the martyred Filipino? Search the long and bloody roll of the world’s heroic dead, and where, on what soil, under what sky, did Tyranny ever claim a nobler victim? Sir, the future is not without hope for a people that, from the midst of such an environment, has furnished to the world a character so lofty and so pure as that of José Rizal.

APPENDIX D

RIZAL’S VIEWS ON THE RACE PROBLEM

From an Article on Rizal in the “International Archiv für Ethnographie,” by Ferdinand Blumentritt, in part translated and abridged by R. L. Packard in the “Popular Science Monthly,” July, 1902.

Rizal devoted himself particularly to the analysis of the sentiments with which the white and the colored races mutually regard each other. No one was so well qualified as he to study this question, which is of such importance to folk-psychology, for he was of himself of a colored race, had lived among his fellow-countrymen at his own home as well as among the whites, those of mixed bloods, and other classes at Manila, and had besides come to know Hong-Kong, Japan, Europe, and the United States and that in a thorough way and not as a mere tourist. His extensive acquaintance with languages opened for him the ethnological writings of all civilized nations, and his penetrating intellect prevented him from remaining content with the surface of things. It should be said, however, that Rizal concerned himself wholly with the relations between the white and the colored peoples of the Pacific because, as he explained, he knew nothing of the psychology of other colored races.

He said that as a boy he was deeply sensible that the Spaniards treated him with contemptuous disregard for the sole reason that he was a Filipino. From the moment when he discovered this attitude of theirs he endeavored to find out what right the Spaniards and the other whites generally had to look down upon people who think as they think, study the same things they study, and have the same mental capacity they possess, simply because these people have a brown skin and stiff, straight hair.

Europeans regard themselves as the sovereign masters of the earth, the only supporters of progress and culture and the sole legitimate species of the genus Homo sapiens, while they proclaim that all other races are inferior by refusing to acknowledge their capability of acquiring European culture, so that, according to the European view, the colored races are varieties of the genus Homo brutus. Rizal then asked himself, Are these views just? He began asking this question when he was a school-boy and at the same time began to answer it by observing his white fellow-students closely while he studied his own mental processes and emotions in order to make comparisons.

He soon remarked that in school, at least, no difference could be detected between the intellectual level of the whites and Filipinos. There were lazy and industrious, moral and immoral, dull and intelligent boys among the whites as well as among the Filipino scholars. Soon this study of race spurred him to exert himself to the utmost in his school studies, and a kind of race rivalry took possession of him. He was overjoyed whenever he succeeded in solving a difficult problem that baffled his white companions. But he did not regard these events as personal successes so much as triumphs of his own collective people. Thus it was in school that he first became convinced that whites go through the same intellectual operations as Filipinos and—ceteris paribus—progress in the same way and to the same extent. From this observation he came to the conclusion that whites and Filipinos have the same intellectual endowment.

In consequence of this conclusion there manifested itself in Rizal, as he himself avowed, a sort of national self-exaltation. He began to believe that the Tagalogs must stand higher intellectually than the Spaniards (the only whites he had known up to that time) and he used to like to tell how he came to this fallacious conclusion. In the first place, he said, in his school the whites received instruction in their own language while the Filipinos had to worry with strange idioms in order to receive instruction which was given in it alone. The Filipinos, therefore, must be better endowed intellectually than the Spaniards, he inferred, since they not only kept up with the Spaniards in their studies but even surpassed them, although handicapped by a different language. Still another observation caused him to disbelieve in the superiority of the European intelligence. He noticed that the Spaniards believed that the Filipinos looked up to them as beings of a superior nation and made of a finer clay than themselves. But Rizal knew very well that the respectfulness the Filipinos manifested toward the Spaniards did not proceed from self-depreciation but was simply dictated by fear and self-interest.

By fear because they saw in the Spaniard their lord and master who oppressed them arbitrarily even with good intentions; by self-interest because they had observed that his pride of race lays the European open to flattery and that they could get large concessions from him by a little subserviency. The Filipinos do not therefore have any real respect for the European but cringe and bow to him from interested motives alone. Behind his back they laugh at him, ridicule his presumption, and regard themselves as in reality the shrewder of the two races. Because the Spaniards never divined the real sentiment of the Filipinos toward themselves, young Rizal felt justified in regarding them as inferior in intelligence to his own countrymen. But in later years he found it necessary to change this false impression of his youth, especially as he had found by his own personal experience how easy it is to draw mistaken conclusions about people of a different race from one’s own. “Whenever,” he used to say, “I came upon condemnation of my people by Europeans either in conversation or in books I recalled these foolish ideas of my youth, my indignation cooled, and I could smile and quote the French proverb, ‘Tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner.’”

Dr. Rizal’s sojourn in Spain opened to him a new world. His intellectual horizon began to widen with his new experiences. New ideas thronged in upon him. He came from a land which was the very home of bigotry, where the Spanish friar, the Spanish official, and the Spanish soldier governed with absolute sway. But in Madrid he found the exact opposite of this repression. Free-thinkers and atheists spoke freely in disparaging terms of religion and the church; the authority of the Government he found to be at a minimum, while he not only saw Liberals contending with the Clerical Party but he beheld with astonishment Republicans and Carlists openly promoting the development of their political ideas.

Still greater was the influence upon him of his residence in France, Germany, and England. In those countries he enlarged his scientific information, or it would be better, perhaps, to say that there the spirit of modern philology was revealed to him and there he learned the meaning of the word “ethnology.”

The personal influence of the late Dr. Rost of London was most marked in the philological training of Dr. Rizal. His teachings and the study of the works of W. von Humboldt, Jacquet, and Professor H. Kern opened a new world for the Filipino scholar. He formed a plan to write a work upon the Tagalog verb, which he afterward modified, and while an exile in Dapitan in Mindanao he began to write a Tagalog grammar in English and at the same time prepared an essay upon the allied elements in the Tagalog and Visayan languages. The former work he intended to dedicate to Professor Kern, in the name of the Malay race; the latter he wished to inscribe to the memory of Dr. Rost. It was not granted to him to complete the manuscript of either, for he was interrupted in the midst of his work to be dragged about from tribunal to tribunal until his final sentence and death by public execution.

Fortunately, his work upon the transcription of Tagalog remains to us, a translation having appeared in the “Bijdragen” of the Indian Institute. Unfortunately, this work only increased the hatred of his political opponents, for the Spaniards were very much opposed to any independent work on the part of the Filipinos, being convinced that everything of the kind was merely a cloak for separatist views, and whatever was suspected of separatism in the Philippines was certain of meeting an unhappy fate.

Rizal, brought up among the Spaniards, was no better instructed than they themselves in modern ethnology, and, indeed, it was through Professor Blumentritt’s instrumentality that his attention was first directed to the defects in his education in that direction, whereupon he began with ardor to enlarge his knowledge in comparative ethnology. The works upon general ethnography by Perschel, F. Müller, Waitz, Gerland, and Ratzel, the ethnographical parallels of André, Wilkins’s work, the culture-historical publications of Lippert and Helwald became at once the subject of his industrious and thorough study, a study, furthermore, that not only enlarged his knowledge but afforded him the consolation of the assurance that his people were not an anthropoid race as the Spanish asserted, for he found that the faults and virtues of the Tagal are entirely human, and, moreover, he became convinced that the virtues and vices of any people are not mere peculiarities of a race but inherited qualities, qualities that become affected by climate and history.

At the same time he continued what he called his “course in practical ethnology”; that is to say, he studied the life of the French and German peasants, because he thought that a peasantry preserves national and race peculiarities longer than the other classes of a people, and also because he believed he ought to compare only the peasantry of Europe with his own countrymen, because the latter were nearly all peasants. With this object in view he withdrew for weeks to some quiet village where he observed closely the daily life of the country people.

He summed up the results of his scientific and “practical” studies in the following propositions:

1. The races of man differ in outward appearance and in the structure of the skeleton but not in their physical qualities. The same passions and pains affect the white, yellow, brown, and black races; the same motives influence their actions, only the form in which the emotions are expressed and the way the actions are directed are different. Neither is this particular form of conduct and expression constant with any race or people but varies under the influence of the most diverse factors.

2. Races exist only for the anthropologists. For a student of the customs of a people there are only social strata, and it is the task of the ethnologist to separate and identify these strata. And just as we mark out the lines of stratification in the mountain ranges of a geological sketch so ought we to mark out the social strata of the human race. And just as there are mountains whose summits do not reach to the highest strata of the geological system, so there are many people that do not reach the highest social strata, while the lowest strata are common to all of them. Even in the old established civilizations of France and Germany a great proportion of the population forms a class which is upon the same intellectual level with the majority of the Tagal, and is to be distinguished from them only by the color of the skin, clothing, and language. But while mountains do not grow higher, peoples do gradually grow up into the higher strata of civilization, and this growth does not depend upon the intellectual capacity alone of a given people, but it is also due to some extent to good fortune and to other factors, some of which can be explained and others not.

3. Since not only the statesmen who conduct colonial affairs but scientific men as well maintain that there are races of limited intelligence that could never attain the height of European culture, the real explanation must be as follows: The higher intelligence may be compared to wealth—there are rich and poor peoples just as there are rich and poor individuals. The rich man that believes he was born rich deceives himself. He came into the world as poor and naked as his slave, but he inherits the wealth that his parents earned. In the same way intelligence is inherited. Races that formerly found themselves compelled by certain special conditions to exercise their mental powers to an unusual extent have naturally developed their intelligence to a higher degree than others and they have bequeathed this intelligence to their descendants, who in turn have increased it by further use. Europeans are rich in intelligence but the present inhabitants of Europe could not affirm without presumption that their ancestors were just as rich in intelligence at the start as they themselves are now. The Europeans have required centuries of strife and effort, of fortunate conjunctions, of the necessary ability, of advantageous laws, and of individual leading men to enable them to bequeath their intellectual wealth to their present representatives. The people that are so intelligent to-day have become so through a long process of transmission and struggles. History shows that the Romans thought no better of the Germans than the Spaniards think of the Tagalog, and when Tacitus praises the Germans he does so in the same style of philosophical idealizing that we see in the followers of Rousseau, who thought that their political ideal was realized in Tahaiti.

4. The condemnatory criticism of the Filipinos by the Spaniards is easy to explain but appears not to be justified. Rizal demonstrated this in the following way: Weaklings do not emigrate to foreign lands but only men of energy that travel hence already prejudiced against the colored races and reach their destination with the conviction, which is usually sanctioned by law, that they are called to rule the latter. If we remember, what few white men know, that the Filipinos fear the brutality of the whites, it is easy to explain why they make such a poor showing in works written by the white while they themselves cannot reply in print. If we consider further that the Filipinos with whom the whites had dealings belong, for the most part, to the lower strata of society, the opinions of them given by the whites have about the same value as that of an educated Tagal would have who should travel to Europe and judge all Germans and French by the dairy-maids, porters, waiters, and cab-drivers he might meet.

5. The misfortune of the Filipinos is in the color of their skin and in that alone. In Europe there are a great many persons that have risen from the lowest dregs of the populace to the highest offices and honors. Such people may be divided into two classes, those that accommodate themselves to their new position without pretensions and whose origin is consequently not imputed to them as a disgrace, but on the contrary they are respected as self-made men; and the conventional parvenus, who are ridiculed and detested universally.

A Filipino would find himself ordinarily in the second of these two classes no matter how noble his character or how perfect a gentleman he might be in his manners and conduct, because his origin is indelibly stamped upon his countenance, visible to all, a mark that always carries with it painful humiliations for the unfortunate native since it for ever exposes him to the prejudices of the whites. Everything he does is minutely examined; a trifling error in the toilet, which would be overlooked in a shoemaker’s son that had acquired the title of baron, and might easily happen to a pure-blooded descendant of the Montmorencys, in his case excites amusement and you hear the remark: “What else do you expect? He is only a native.” But even if he does not infringe any of the rules of etiquette, and is besides an able lawyer or a skilful physician, his accomplishments are not taken as a matter of course, but he is regarded with a kind of good-natured surprise, a feeling much like the astonishment with which one regards a well trained dog in a circus, but never as a man of the same capabilities as a white man.

Another reason for the mean opinion in which the Filipinos have been held by the whites is found in the circumstance that in the tropics all the servants are colored. They have the defects of their social class and of servants everywhere. Now, when a German housewife complains of her servants, she does not extend their bad qualities to the whole German nation; but this is done unblushingly by Europeans that live in the tropics, and they never apparently feel any compunctions but sleep the sleep of the just, undisturbed by conscience.

The merchants also have contributed to the unfavorable judgment of the Filipinos. Europeans come to the tropics in order to get rich as soon as possible, which can only be done by buying from the natives at astoundingly low rates. The latter, however, do not regard this proceeding as a really commercial one, but they believe that the whites are trying to cheat them; and they govern themselves accordingly by trying, on their side, to overreach the whites while their dealings with one another are far more honorable. Consequently the Europeans call the natives liars and cheats, while it never occurs to them that their own exploiting of the ignorance of the natives is a conscienceless proceeding, or rather they believe that, as whites, they are morally justified in dealing immorally with the natives because the latter are colored.

Dr. Rizal finally came to think that he need no longer wonder at the prejudice of the whites against his people after he saw in Europe what unjustifiable prejudices European nations entertain against one another. He himself was always benevolent and moderate in his judgment of foreign peoples. His active and keen mind, his personal amiability, his politeness and manner as a man of the world, and his good and noble heart gained him friends everywhere, and, therefore, the tragic death of this intellectually distinguished and amiable man aroused general concern.

Rizal was an artist of delicate perceptions, a draftsman and sculptor as well as a scholar and ethnologist. Professor Blumentritt possesses three statues made by him of terra cotta which might aptly serve as symbols of his life. One represents Prometheus bound. The second represents the victory of death over life, and this scene is imagined with peculiar originality: a skeleton in a monk’s cowl bears in its arms the inanimate body of a young maiden. The third shows us a female form standing upon a death’s head and holding a torch in her high uplifted hands. This is the triumph of knowledge of the soul over death. Rizal, concludes Professor Blumentritt, was undoubtedly the most distinguished man not only of his own people but of the Malay race in general. His memory will never die in his fatherland.

APPENDIX E

SPECIMEN PAGES FROM RIZAL’S DIARY

(It was more a series of notes to assist his memory than a daily record of events. Some of the entries are illegible.)

Saturday, April 28 (1888). We arrived at San Francisco in the morning. We anchored. It is said that we shall be quarantined. The Custom House boat visited us: its flag has this look: [American Customs flag drawn]. The sacks or bags of silk were taken away; a sack costing $700. They are not afraid of the silk; and they were to take their breakfast on board.

Sunday, April 29. Second day of the quarantine. We are greatly troubled and impatient aboard. I have not eaten; it gets my nerve.

Monday, 30. The quarantine is continued. I read in the paper a statement of the Sanitary Doctor against quarantine.

Tuesday, May 1. The quarantine is continued. We signed a petition against the quarantine; and the Englishmen wrote to their Consul.

Thursday, May 3. Six days of quarantine.

Friday, May 4, at 3 P.M. the quarantine is ended. I stayed at Palace Hotel: $4 a day with bath and everything. Stockton-Str. 312. I saw the Golden Gate.... The Custom House. A letter of recommendation. On Sunday stores were closed. The best St. in San Francisco is Market St. I took a walk.—Stanford, the rich man.—A street near the China Town. We left San Francisco on Sunday, the 6th, at 4.30 P.M.—Sailed till Oakland—Railroad—On board from Port Costa to Benicia—Plantations—Herds of cattle—No herdsmen—Stores at the camp—Dinner at Sacramento, 75 cents. We slept in the coach. Regular night. We woke up an hour from Reno, where we took our breakfast at 7.30 of Monday, May 7.... I saw an Indian [Indio] attired in semi-European suit, and semi-Indian suit, leaning against a wall. Wide deserts without plants nor trees. Unpopulated. Lonely place. Bare mountains. Sands. A big extension of white land, like chalk. Far from this desert can be seen some blue mountains. It was a fine day. It was warm, and there was still snow on the top of some mountains.

Tuesday, May 8: This is a beautiful morning. We stop from place to place. We are near Ogden. I believe with a good system of irrigation this place could be cultivated. We are at Utah state, the 3rd. state we crossed over. In approaching Ogden the fields are seen with horses, oxen, and trees. Some small houses are seen from a distance. From Ogden to Denver. The clock is set one hour ahead of time. We are now beginning to see flowers with yellow color on the way. The mountains at a distance are covered with snow. The banks of Salt Lake are more beautiful than other things we saw. The mules are very big. There are mountains in the middle of the lake like the islands of Talim in Laguna de Bay. We saw three Mormon boys at Farmington. There were sheep, cows and horses in the meadows. This region not thickly populated. A flock of ducks in the lake. There were beautiful houses with trees, straight streets, flowers, low houses. Children greeted us at Salt Lake City. In Utah the women serve at the table. It is known that dinner will be cheap (?). We changed train at Ogden, and we will not have any change until Denver. In Provo I ate much for 75 cents. We are passing between two mountains through a narrow channel.

Wed. May 9. We are passing through the mountains of rocks along a river; the river is noisy and its noise gives life to the lifeless scenery. We woke up at Colorado the 4th state we crossed over. At 10/30 we climb up a certain height, and this is why snow is seen along the way. There were many pines. The snow on the mountain top is white and shiny. We passed through tunnels made of wood, to protect the road against snow. Icicles in these tunnels are very bright which gives majestic effect.—The Porter of the Pullman Car, an American, is a sort of thief.—Colorado has more trees than the three states we passed over. There are many horses.

Thursday, May 10. We woke up at Nebraska. The country is a plain. We reached Omaha, a big city at 4 P.M., the biggest since we left San Francisco. The Missouri river is twice as wide as the Pasig river in its wide part. It is marshy. Islands are formed in the middle of the river; its banks are not beautiful. This region has many horses and cattle. The train passed over the Missouri bridge for 2 and 1/2 minutes; the train goes slowly. We are now in Illinois.

Friday, May 11. We wake up near Chicago. The country is cultivated. It shows our nearness to Chicago. We left Chicago at 8:1/4 Friday night. What I observed in Chicago is that every cigar store has an Indian figure, and always different. (27–75 Washington Street. Boston. Miss C. G. Smith.)

Saturday, May 12. A good Wagner Car—we are proceeding in a fine day. The country is beautiful and well populated. We shall arrive at the English territory in the afternoon, and we shall soon see Niagara Falls. We stop for some time to see the points that are beautiful; we went at the side below the Falls; I was between two rocks and this is the greatest cascade I ever saw. It is not so beautiful nor so fine as the falls at Los Baños; but much bigger, more imposing and could not be compared with it. The cascade has various falls, various parts. We left the place at night. There is a mysterious sound and persistent echo.

Sunday, May 13. We wake up near Albany. This is a big city. The Hudson river which runs along carries many boats. We crossed over a bridge. The landscape is beautiful; and it is not inferior to the best in Europe. We are going along the banks of the Hudson. They are very beautiful, although a little more solitary than those of the Pasig. There were ships, boats, trees, hills; and the major part is cultivated. The Hudson is wide. Beautiful ships. Sliced granite rocks were paved along the railroads. Some points widely extended. There were beautiful houses between trees. Day fine. Our grand transcontinental trip ended on Sunday, May 13. at 11:10 A.M. We passed through various arches in tunnels:—The Art Age, 75 W. 23 Street.

We left New York on May 16, 1888. There were many people at the dock. The first and second class entrances are separated. At 9 o’clock sharp the bell rang to warn the visitors away. At 9 1/30, the pier was full of people. White handkerchiefs were waved; ribbons and flowers of different colors are seen here and there.

May 24—Arrived in Liverpool.

A RIZAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

1. “El Embarque: Himno á la Flota de Magellanes.” (The Departure: Hymn to Magellan’s Fleet.)

This poem seems to have been dated December 5, 1875, but according to Rizal’s friends, Vicente Elio and Mariano Ponce, it was written in 1874. It was first published in “La Patria,” Manila, December 30, 1899.

2. “Y Es Espanol: Elcano, el Primero en Dar la Vuelta al Mundo.” (And He Is Spanish: Elcano, the First to Go Around the World.)

A poem in couplets. Dated December 5, 1875.

3. “El Combate: Urbistondo, Terror de Jolo.” (The Battle: Urbistondo, the Terror of Jolo.)

A romance, dated December 5, 1875.

4. “Un Diálogo Alusivo á la Despedida de los Colegiales.” (A Dialogue Embodying His Farewell to the Collegians.)

Rizal mentions this poem as having been delivered toward the end of his course at the Ateneo, which would mean March, 1876.

5. “Al Niño Jesús.” (To the Child Jesus.)

A poem dated Manila, November 14, but the year is not given. Supposed to have been written in 1876.

6. “Un Recuerdo á Mi Pueblo.” (A Remembrance to My Town.)

Poem offered by the author at one of the sessions of the Academy of Literature of the Ateneo. First published in “La Patria,” December 30, 1899. Written about 1876.

7. “Alianza Intima entre la Religión y la Buena Educación.” (Intimate Bond between Religion and Good Education.)

Dated April 1, 1876.

8. “Por la Educación Recibe Lustre la Patria.” (Through Education the Country Receives Light.)

Poem written about April 1, 1876. First published in “El Renacimiento,” January 2, 1906.

9. “El Cautiverio y el Triunfo: Batalla de Lucena y Prisión de Boabdil.” (The Captivity and the Triumph: Battle of Lucena and the Imprisonment of Boabdil.)

Poem dated Manila, December 3, 1876.

10. “La Conquista de Granada: Abre la Ciudad sus Puertas á los Vencedores.” (The Conquest of Granada: Let the City Open Its Gates to the Conquerors.)

Legend in verse; dated December 3, 1876.

11. “En Año de 1876 á 1877.”

Written by Rizal between 1876 and 1877. A sketch of the history of Spanish literature.

12. “Cuaderno de Varias Preguntas Escritas por J. R. Mercado.” (Copy-book of various questions written by J. R. Mercado.)

Notes on history.

13. “Colón y Juan II.” (Columbus and John II.)

Lyric poem composed at the Ateneo.

14. “El Heróismo de Colón.” (The Heroism of Columbus.)

Epic canto, dated December 8, 1877.

15. “Leyenda, Gran Consuelo en la Mayor Desdicha.” (Reading, the Great Consolation in the Worst Misfortune.)

Poem written at the Ateneo, probably 1877.

16. “A la Juventud Filipina.” (To the Philippine Youth.)

The ode that contains the oblation, “My Fatherland.” First published in the “Revista del Liceo de Manila, 1879.”

16 b. “A la Juventud Filipina.” (To the Philippine Youth.)

Translation of the foregoing into Tagalog verse by Honorio Lopez, in the booklet “Ang Buhay ni Dr. José Rizal,” of which Lopez was the author.

17. “Abd-el-Azis y Mahoma.” (Abd-el-Azis and Mohammed.)

Historical romance, read at the Ateneo by Manuel Fernández y Maniung, December 8, 1879, at the meeting in honor of the Ateneo’s patron saint.

18. “A Filipinas.” (To the Philippines.)

A sonnet dated February, 1880, and written in the album of the Society of Sculptors, now extinct. First published in the “Independencia,” December 29, 1898.

19. “El Consejo de los Dioses.” (The Council of the Gods.)

An allegory written in praise of Cervantes and for the celebration of his anniversary. First published in the “Revista del Liceo,” 1880.

19 b. “El Consejo de los Dioses.”

The foregoing translated into Tagalog by Pascual H. Poblete, 1905.

20. “Junto al Pasig.” (Beside the Pasig.)

Melodrama in verse. First published in “La Patria,” December 30, 1902.

20 b. “Junto al Pasig.”

Part of the first scene of the foregoing as sung by students in a religious procession, November 27, 1904. The music was composed by Blas de Echegoyen.

20 c. “Sa Virgen ng Antipolo.”

Translation into Tagalog verse of the children’s chorus in “Junta al Pasig,” by Honorio Lopez.

21. “Al M. R. P. Pablo Ramon, Rector del Ateneo, en sus Dias.” (To his Reverence Pablo Ramon, Rector of the Ateneo.)

An ode dated January 25, 1881.

22. “A la Virgen Maria.” (To the Virgin Mary.)

A sonnet first published by “La Alborada,” Manila, December 30, 1901.

23. “Memorias Intimas.” (Intimate Memories.)

Impressions since leaving Calamba, May 1, 1882, and until May 3, 1883.

24. “El Amor Patrio.” (Love for the Fatherland.)

Article published under the pseudonym “Laong Laan” in the “Diariong Tagalog,” Manila, August 20, 1882—the first article he wrote in Europe.

24 a. “Ang Pag Ibig sa Tinubuang Lupa.”

Tagalog translation of the foregoing and printed at the same time.

25. “Los Viajes.” (The Voyages.)

Article in “Diariong Tagalog,” 1882.

25 b. “Ang Pangingibang Lupa.”

Tagalog translation of the foregoing and printed at the same time.

26. “Me Piden Versos!” (You Ask Me for Verses.)

Poem, for which see Appendix. Dated Madrid, Oct 7, 1882. First printed in “La Solidaridad.”

26 b. “Pinatutula Ako!”

Tagalog translation of foregoing.

27. “Las Dudas.” (Doubts.)

Article published under the pseudonym “Laong Laan” in Madrid, November 7, 1882.

28. “Revista de Madrid.” (Review of Madrid.)

An article dated Madrid, November 29, 1882, written under the name “Laong Laan” for the “Diariong Tagalog” and returned because that journal had ceased to exist.

29. “P. Jacinto: Memorias de un Estudiante de Manila.” (P. Jacinto: Memories of a Student of Manila.)

Refers to himself. Written after his arrival in Madrid, 1882.

30. “La Instrucción.” (Instruction.)

Probably written after his arrival in Madrid in 1882.

31. “Apuntes de Obstetricia.” (Notes on Obstetrics.)

Found in a copy-book.

32. “Apuntes clínicos.” (Clinical Notes.)

Madrid, not dated.

33. “Lecciones de Clínica Médica.” (Lessons in Medical Clinical Procedure.)

Madrid, October 4, 1883, to May 29, 1884.

34. “Filipinas Desgraciada.” (The Unfortunate Philippines.)

Article describing the calamities of 1880–82. Written in Madrid.

35. “Discurso-Brindis.” (Reply to a Toast.)

Speech at the Café de Madrid night of December 31, 1883.

36. A historical novel, unfinished.

Five chapters. He began to write it in Madrid while a student there. It has no title.

37. “A la Señorita C. O. y R.” (To Miss Consuelo Ortiga y Rey.)

Poem written in Madrid, August 22, 1883, first published in “El Renacimiento,” December 29, 1904.

38. “Sobre el Teatro Tagalo.” (On the Tagalog Theater.)

Written May 6, 1884, refuting an attack made by Manuel Lorenzo d’ Ayot. Published in Madrid.

39. “Discurso-Brindis.” (Reply to a Toast.)

Speech made in Madrid, June 25, 1884, which received great newspaper notoriety.

40. “Costumbres Filipinas: un Recuerdo.” (Philippine Customs: a Memory.)

An incomplete article, written in Madrid, 1884 or 1885.

41. “La Fête de Saint Isidro.”

Not dated. Written in French.

42. “Notes on Field Fortifications.”

Written in English about 1885. Found in a clinic note-book.

43. “Llanto y Risas.”

An uncompleted article, written in Madrid between 1884 and 1886.

44. “Memorias de un Gallo.” (Memories of a cock.)

Incomplete. Mutilated.

45. “Apuntes de Literatura Española, de Hebreo, y de Arabe.” (Notes on Spanish, Hebrew, and Arabian Literature.)

Not dated. Notes in a copy-book.

46. “Semblanzas de Algunos Filipinos Compañeros en Europa.”

Closely Noted Observations on Certain Filipinos Then Residing in Europe.

47. “Estado de Religiosidad de los Pueblos en Filipinas.” (Religious State of the Towns in the Philippines.)

Unpublished.

48. “Pensamiento de un Filipino.” (Thoughts of a Filipino.)

An unpublished article, date unknown.

49. “Un Librepensador.” (A Free-Thinker.)

An unpublished article. Probably written in Madrid.

50. “Los Animales de Juan.” (John’s Animals.)

An unpublished story.

51. “A S....” (To S——)

Poem dated November 6, ——.

52. “A....” (To ——)

Poem, not dated; rough draft.

53. “Mi Primer Recuerdo: Fragmento de Mis Memorias.” (My First Recollection: Fragments of My Memories.)

All these last few works seem to have been written while Rizal was a student in Madrid.

54. “Juan Luna.”

Article, published in the “Revista Hispano-Americana,” of Barcelona, February 28, 1886, carrying a front-page portrait of the great Filipino painter.

55. “A las Flores de Heidelberg.” (To the Flowers of Heidelberg.) Poem dated Heidelberg, April 22, 1886. Signed “Laong Laan,” first published in “La Solidaridad.”

56. “Madrid.”

An epistolary chronicle, written in French from Germany in 1886. First published in “Nuestro Tiempo” in February, 1905.

57. “Crítica Literaria.”

Not dated. Criticisms in French on “Tartarin sur les Alpes” and “Le Pistolet de la Petit Baronne.” Germany, 1886.

58. “Essai sur Pierre Corneille.”

In French. Germany, 1886.

59. “Tinipong Karunungan ng Kaibigan Ng mga Taga Rhin.”

Beginning of a translation of a book by Hebel into Tagalog.

60. “Une Soirée chez M. B....”

Written in Berlin, in French. Unpublished sketch. No date.

61. “Noli Me Tangere.” Berlin, March, 1887.

His first complete novel.

61 b. “Noli Me Tangere.”

Second edition, Manila, Chofre & Co., 1899.

61 c. “Noli Me Tangere.”

Third edition, Valencia, Sempere, 1902. Somewhat shortened and with mutilations.

61 d. “Noli Me Tangere.”

Fourth edition, Barcelona, Maucci, 1903. With a short prologue by Ramon Sempau.

61 e. “Au Pays des Moines.”

French translation of 61 by Henri Lucas and Ramon Sempau. Paris, 1899. With a few notes.

61 f. “An Eagle’s Flight.”

Abbreviated English translation. New York: McClure, Phillips & Co., 1900.

61 g. “Friars and Filipinos.”

Another English translation, somewhat fuller than 61 f, by F. E. Gannet. New York, 1907.

61 h. German translation of “Noli Me Tangere.”

Never finished, by Dr. Blumentritt.

61 i. “Noli Me Tangere.”

Tagalog translation by Paciano Rizal, brother of the author. Rizal himself revised and corrected the sheets.

61 j. “Noli Me Tangere.”

Tagalog translation by P. H. Poblete.

61 k. “Noli Me Tangere.”

Cebuana translation by Vicente Sotto.

61 l. “Tulang na sa ‘Noli.’”

The song from Chap. XXIII translated into Tagalog by M. H. del Pilar. 1888.

61 m. “Noli Me Tangere” (Extracts).

Translations of chapters, paragraphs, and sentences into many dialects in broadside form for general distribution in the islands.

61 n. “Ang ‘Noli Me Tangere.’”

Playlet performed on Rizal’s birthday. Mentioned in “El Renacimiento,” Manila, 1905.

61 o. “The Social Cancer.”

A complete English Version of “Noli Me Tangere,” from the Spanish of José Rizal by Charles Derbyshire (with a life of Rizal), Manila, Philippine Education Company, 1912.

62. “Histoire d’ une Mère.”

A Tale of Andersen’s. Translation from German to French. Berlin, March 5, 1887.

63. “Tagalische Verskunst.”

Work read before the Ethnographical Society of Berlin, April, 1887, and published the same year, by that society.

63 b. “Arte Métrica del Tagalog.” (Metrical Art of the Tagalogs.)

Spanish translation, made by Rizal, of the foregoing work. Amplified.

64. “Autocrítica de ‘Noli Me Tangere.’” (Self-Criticism of “Noli Me Tangere.”)

An unpublished article in French.

65. “An Account of the Life and Writings of Mr. James Thompson.” By Patrick Murdoch.

A study in English literature. 1887. Unpublished.

66. “Deducciones. El, segun El, Por un Pigmeo.” (Deductions, by himself, a pigmy.)

Published in “España en Filipinas,” Madrid, April, 1887.

67. “Dudas.” (Doubts.)

Madrid, May 28, 1887. Published in “España en Filipinas.”

68. “En las Montañas.” (In the Mountains.)

Poem written in Germany in 1887.

69. “El Historiador de Filipinas Fernando Blumentritt.” (The Historian of the Philippines, Fernando Blumentritt.)

July 7, 1887. “España en Filipinas.”

70. “De Heidelberg á Leipzig, Pasando por el Rhin.” (From Heidelberg to Leipzig, along the Rhine.)

Notes of travel.

71. “De Marsella á Manila.” (From Marseilles to Manila.)

Notes of travel.

72. “Traducción de Poesías Alemanes al Tagalo.” (Translation of German Poems into Tagalog.)

Done in Calamba about 1887 or 1888. Unpublished.

73. “Guillermo Tell: Trahediang Tinula ni Schiller sa Wikang Aleman.” (William Tell.)

Tagalog translation in which he used the new method of spelling.

74. “Informe al Administrador de Hacienda pública de la Laguna acerca de la Hacienda de los PP. Dominicos en Calamba.” (Report to the Administrator of Public Finance of La Laguna about the Estate of the Dominican Friars in Calamba.)

Rizal’s report in the tax fight. It was signed by the justice of the peace, the board of officers, and seventy leading men of the Calamba district. Mr. Ponce describes it as the first stone thrown in the bitter contest that ensued between the village and the powerful religious corporation. It was published as an appendix to “La Soberanía Monacal,” by M. H. del Pilar. The date was early in 1888.

75. “Diario de Viaje a Través de Norte-America.” (Diary of Trip across North America.)

April–May of 1888. See Appendix.

76. “Notas, en Colaboración con el Dr. A. B. Meyer y el Dr. F. Blumentritt, á un Códice Chino de la Edad Media, Traducido al Aleman por el Dr. Hirth.” (Notes, Collaborated with Dr. A. B. Meyer and Dr. F. Blumentritt, on an old Chinese Manuscript of the Middle Ages, Translated into German by Dr. Hirth.)

Published in “La Solidaridad,” April 30, 1889.

77. “Specimens of Tagal Folk-Lore.”

London, May, 1889. “Trübner’s Record.” Composed of three parts: proverbial sayings, puzzles, verses.

78. “La Verdad para Todos.” (The Truth for All.)

Article. Barcelona, May 31, 1889. Published in “La Solidaridad.”

79. “Barrantes y el Teatro Tagalo.” (Barrantes and the Tagalog Theater.)

Article, published in “La Solaridad,” Barcelona, June, 1889.

80. “Two Eastern Fables.”

In “Trübner’s Record,” London, June, 1889. English.

81. “La Visión de Fr. Rodríguez.” (The Vision of Friar Rodriguez.)

Barcelona, 1889. Under the pseudonym “Dimas Alang,” a booklet published surreptitiously.

81 b. “The Vision of Friar Rodriguez.”

English version made by F. M. de Rivas and published in the book “The Story of the Philippine Islands” by Murat Halstead, Chicago, 1898.

82. A novel in Spanish.

No title. Rizal began it in 1889, left unfinished.

83. “Por Teléfono.” (By Telephone.)

Under the pseudonym “Dimas Alang,” a handbill published surreptitiously.

84. “Verdades Nuevas.” (New Truths.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” Barcelona, July 31, 1889.

85. “Una Profanación.” (A profanation.)

Anonymous article. “La Solaridad,” July 31, 1889. In this he told of the disinterring by the friars of the body of Herbosa.

86. “Diferencias.” (Differences.)

An article in “La Solidaridad,” Barcelona, September 15, 1889.

87. “Filipinas dentro de Cien Años.” (The Philippines a Century Hence.)

Four articles in “La Solidaridad,” 1889 and 1890.

88. “A Nuestra Querida Madre Patria!!! España!!!” (To Our Beloved Mother-Country!!! Spain!!!)

Proclamation in sheet form, three columns. Paris, 1889. Ironical.

89. “A La Patria.” (To the Home-Land.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, November 15, 1889.

90. “Inconsecuencias.” (Inconsequences.)

Article against “El Pueblo Soberano” of Barcelona. Madrid, November 30, 1889.

91. “En la Ausencia.” (Absence.)

A poem written in Paris, 1889.

92. “Sa Mga Kababay-ang Dalaga sa Malolos.”

A letter headed “Europe, 1889.”

93. “Notas a la Obra, Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas, por el Dr. Antonio de Morga.” (Notes to Happenings in the Philippines by Dr. Antonio de Morga.)

Prologue by Professor Blumentritt. December, 1889.

94. “Ingratitudes.” (Ingratitudes.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” January 15, 1890.

95. “Al Excmo. Sr. D. Vicente Barrantes.” (To his Excellency Sr. D. Vicente Barrantes.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, February 15, 1890.

96. “Sin Nombre.” (Without Name.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, February 28, 1890.

97. “Filipinos en el Congreso.” (Filipinos in the Assembly.)

“La Solidaridad,” March 31, 1890.

98. “Seamos Justos.” (Let Us Be Just.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, April 15, 1890.

99. “Sobre la Nueva Ortografia de la Lengua Tagalog.” (On the new spelling of the Tagalog language.)

“La Solidaridad,” April 15, 1890.

99 b. “Die Transcription des Tagalog von Dr. José Rizal.”

Translated into German by F. Blumentritt with comments.

100. “Cosas de Filipinas.” (Things Philippine.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, April 30, 1890.

100 b. “Más sobre el Asunto de Negros.” (More Concerning the Affair in Negros.)

Second part of the above article appearing May 15, 1890.

101. “Una Esperanza.” (A Hope.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, July 15, 1890.

102. “Sobre la Indolencia de los Filipinos.” (Filipino Indolence.)

“La Solidaridad,” Madrid, July–September 15, 1890.

103. “Venganzas Cobardes.” (Cowardly Vengeance.)

Anonymous article. “La Solidaridad,” August 31, 1890.

104. “A la memoria de José Maria Panganiban.” (To the Memory of José Maria Panganiban.)

A meditation in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, September 30, 1890.

105. “Una Contestación á Isabelo de los Reyes.” (An Answer to Isabelo de los Reyes.)

Article in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, October, 1890.

106. “Las Luchas de Nuestros Días.” (The strifes of Our Day.)

Two criticisms of the work “Pi y Margall” appearing in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, November 30, 1890.

107. “Como Se Gobiernan las Filipinas.” (How the Philippines Are Governed.)

“La Solidaridad,” December 15, 1890.

108. “A Mi Musa.” (To My Muse.)

Poem under the pseudonym “Laong Laan,” published in “La Solidaridad,” Madrid, December 31, 1890.

109. “Mariang Makiling.”

Legend. Under the pseudonym “Laong Laan,” published in “La Solidaridad,” December 31, 1890.

109 b. “Mariang Makiling.”

Tagalog translation of the foregoing. This was the last work that Rizal did for “La Solidaridad.”

110. “Discurso en el Banquete de la Colonia Filipina de Madrid en la Noche del 31 de Diciembre de 1890.” (Speech at the Banquet of the Philippine Colony of Madrid, held in that city on the Evening of December 31, 1890.)

111. “El Filibusterismo: Novela Filipina.” (Filibusterism.)

Ghent, 1891. First edition, rare. Fragments were published by papers in Spain in 1891.

111 b. “El Filibusterismo.”

Second edition. Manila, Chofre & Co., 1900.

111 c. “El Filibusterismo.”

Tagalog translation by P. H. Poblete, 1904.

111 d. “El Filibusterismo: Novela Filipina.”

Third edition. Prologada y anotada por W. E. Retana. Barcelona, de Henrich and Company. 1908.

111 e. “The Reign of Greed.”

A complete English version of “El Filibusterismo,” from the Spanish of José Rizal by Charles Derbyshire. Manila, Philippine Education Company, 1912.

112. “Diario de Viaje de Marsella a Hong-Kong.” (Diary of a Voyage from Marseilles to Hong-Kong.)

Unpublished. Written in 1891.

113. “Ang Mga Karapatan Nang Tao.”

Tagalog translation of the Rights of Man proclaimed by the French revolutionists of 1789. This was probably done during his stay in Hong-Kong and is what the Filipinos call a “proclamation.”

114. “A la Nación Española.” (To the Spanish Nation.)

Hong-Kong, 1891. An undated proclamation, written in Hong-Kong about November, 1891. Refers to the land question in Calamba.

115. “Sa Mga Kababayan.”

Sheet printed in Hong-Kong in December, 1891. It deals with the land question of Calamba.

116. “La Exportación del Azucar Filipino.” (Exportation of Philippine Sugar.)

An article printed in Hong-Kong about 1892.

117. “Estatutos y Reglamentos de la Liga Filipina.” (Statutes and Rules of the Philippine League.)

Written in Hong-Kong, 1892.

118. “Una Visita a la Victoria Gaol.” (A Visit to Victoria Jail.)

Written in Hong-Kong in March, 1892, describing his visit to the city jail.

119. “Colonisation du British North Borneo, par des Families des Iles Philippines.” (Colonization of British North Borneo by families from the Philippine Islands.)

He also did this work in Spanish.

119 b. “Proyecto de Colonización del British North Borneo por Filipinos.”

An elaboration of the same idea. No date, but it is known that he wrote this at about the time of his trip to Borneo in April, 1892.

120. “La Mano Roja.” (The Red Hand.)

Sheet printed in Hong-Kong, June, 1892, calling attention to the number of fires started intentionally in Manila.

120 b. “Ang Mapulang Kamay.”

Translation of above, published in 1894.

121. “A los Filipinos! (Testamento público.)” (To the Filipinos.)

Dated at Hong-Kong, June 20, 1892. Published in various newspapers of the country. The address to his countrymen to be made public in case of his death.

122. “Notas de Sucesos desde su Desembarco en Manila, Procedente de Hong-Kong, hasta su Deportación y Llegada a Dapitan. 1892.” (Notes of Events from his Landing in Manila Arriving from Hong-Kong up to his Deportation and Arrival at Dapitan, 1892.)

123. “Cartas Filosofico-Religiosas de Controversia con el P. Pablo Pastells, S. J.” (Letters of His Philosophical-Religious Controversy with P. Pablo Pastells, S. J.)

124. “Etnografia de la Isla de Mindanao.” (Ethnography of the Island of Mindanao.)

Translated from the German of F. Blumentritt.

125. “Ampliación a Mi Mapa.” (Enlargement of My Map.)

Map of the Island of Mindanao, translated into Spanish by Rizal and dedicated to F. Blumentritt.

126. “Estudios sobre la Lengua Tagala.” (Studies on the Tagalog Tongue.)

Written in Dapitan in 1893 and first published in “La Patria” of Manila in 1899.

126 b. “Manga Pag-Aaral sa Wikang Tagalog na Sinulat ni Dr. José Rizal.”

Tagalog translation of the foregoing by Honorio Lopez.

127. “Canto del Viajero.” (Song of the Traveler.)

Poem written in Dapitan. First published in 1903.

128. “Dapitan.”

Introduction to a work which was never followed up.

129. “Avesta: Vendidad.”

An uncompleted Spanish translation.

130. “Fragmentos de una Novela Inédita y sin Concluir.” (Fragments of an Incomplete and Unpublished Novel.)

Written in Dapitan. Fragments of a novel.

131. “Makamisa.”

Verses beginning a novel in Tagalog. Never completed.

132. “Sociedad de Agricultores Dapitanos.” (Society of Dapitan Farmers.)

Statutes and by-laws, Dapitan, 1895.

133. “Mi Retiro: A Mi Madre.” (My Retirement: To My Mother.)

Poem written in Dapitan, 1895. First published in “República Filipina” in 1898.

133 b. “Ang Ligpit Kong Pamumuhay: Sa Aking Ina.”

Tagalog translation of the above by Honorio Lopez.

134. “Himno a Talisay.” (Hymn to Talisay.)

Composed in Dapitan, October 13, 1895.

135. “La Curación de los Hechizados.” (The Cure for the Bewitched.)

An article believed to be unpublished.

136. “Comparative Tagalog Grammar.”

Written in English. Incomplete.

137. “Datos para Mi Defensa.” (Points for My Defense.)

Written in Santiago Prison, December 12, 1896.

138. “Manifiesto—a Algunos Filipinos.” (Manifesto—To Certain Filipinos.)

Manila, Santiago Prison, December 15, 1896. This was published by many newspapers in the country.

139. “Adiciones a Mi Defensa.” (Additions to My Defense.)

Manila, December 26, 1896.

140. “Ultimo pensamiento.” (Last Thoughts.)

The poem written in the chapel, a few nights before his death. The original manuscript was unsigned and written on ordinary ruled paper. Alcohol stains (from the lamp) can still be seen on the original where it blurred the ink. The above title was given to the poem by Mr. Ponce.

Under the title “Ultimo Adiós” (My Last Farewell) it was published in “La Independencia,” September 25, 1898.

It has been translated into many languages, including the island dialects, French, English, German, Chinese, and Japanese.

141. “French Composition Exercises,” by José Rizal, B. A., Ph. M., L. C. M. (Madrid), Postgraduate student in Paris, Leipzig, Heidelberg, Berlin and London. Manila, 1912. Philippine Education Company.

142. “The Indolence of the Filipino,” by José Rizal, translated by Charles Derbyshire, edited by Austin Craig, Manila, 1913.

143. “Rizal’s Own Story of His Life.” National Book Company, 1918.

Contains also “Rizal’s First Reading Lesson,” “Rizal’s Childhood Impressions,” “The Spanish Schools of Rizal’s Boyhood,” “The Turkey That Caused the Calamba Land Trouble,” “Mariang Makiling,” and other short pieces.

144. “Manila en 1872.”

An article by Rizal discovered after his death and published in the Manila “Citizen,” January 9, 1919.

145. “Cartas á un Jesuita.”

Another posthumous article, published in the Manila “Citizen,” February 7, 1919.

The following books and articles relating to Rizal may also be noted:

“The Story of Rizal,” Hugh Clifford, “Blackwood’s,” November, 1902.

“Rizal’s Views on Race Differences,” “Popular Science Monthly,” July, 1902.

“The Future of the Philippines,” M. F. Steele, “The Nation,” March 27, 1902.

“A Filipino That Died for His Country,” “Literary Digest,” July 26, 1919.

“Rizal’s Picture of the Philippines under Spain,” “Review of Reviews,” May, 1913.

“The Martyred Novelist of the Philippines,” “Current Opinion,” April, 1913.

“The Malay Novelist,” “The Nation,” January 9, 1913.

“The Composite Rizal,” “The Nation,” April 10, 1913.

“The Life of José Rizal, a Chronology by Austin Craig,” “The Manila Independent,” December 31, 1921.

“Autógrafos de Rizal,” Fernando Canon, “The Manila Independent,” December 31, 1921.

“Páginas Inéditas de Rizal” (Dapitan), “Dia Filipino,” Manila, June 19, 1918.

“Rizal en Hong-Kong,” by Vicente Sotto, in “Renacimiento Filipino,” Manila, July 7, 1913.

“Rizal’s Story of His Life,” the Manila “Citizen,” August and September, 1918.

“Rizal and Philippine Nationalism,” by José Melencio, the Manila “Citizen,” February 21, 1919.

“Rizal as a Historian,” by Austin Craig, “Philippine Herald,” Manila, July 10, 1921.

“The Song of the Wanderer,” translated by Arthur Ferguson, “Dia Filipino,” June, 1918.

“The Song of the Wanderer,” translated by Charles Derbyshire, “Philippine Journal of Education,” Manila, December, 1919.

“To My Muse,” translated by Charles Derbyshire, “Philippine Journal of Education,” December, 1919.

“To the Flowers of Heidelberg,” translated by Charles Derbyshire, “Philippine Journal of Education,” December, 1919.

“Rizal as a Poet,” by Eliseo Hervas, “Philippine Journal of Education,” 1919.

“Inspiring Traits of Rizal’s Character,” by Ignacio Villamor, “Philippine Journal of Education,” December, 1919.

“Rizal as a Patriot, Author, and Scientist,” by former Governor-General Francis Burton Harrison, “Philippine Journal of Education,” December, 1919.

“Rizal as a Scientist,” Benito Soliven, “Philippine Journal of Education,” December, 1919.

“Rizal’s Character,” by T. H. Pardo de Tavera, published by the Manila Filatélica, 1918.

“The Story of José Rizal,” by Austin Craig, published by the Philippine Education Publishing Company, 1909.

“Revista Filipina,” Manila, December, 1916, a Rizal number, with articles by Mariano Ponce, Epifanio de los Santos, and others.

“Murió el Doctor Rizal Cristianamente? Reconstitución de las Ultimas Horas de Su Vida.” Estudio Histórico por Gonzalo M. Piñana, Barcelona, 1920.

NOTES

[1] Craig, p. 83; Derbyshire, p. xvi. Blair and Robertson, “The Philippine Islands,” Vol. LII, p. 170.

[2] “Noli Me Tangere,” Chap. LVII.

[3] Created after one of the many insurrections and contributing to the causes of the insurrection of 1872. Craig, p. 80.

[4] Craig, pp. 86–87.

[5] Born 1792, died 1872. He was once governor of Hong-Kong.

[6] Craig, p. 88.

[7] The ease with which false accusations could be manufactured, as Rizal showed afterward in his novels, was a valid asset in Spanish supremacy.

[8] Rizal, in his “Boyhood Story,” merely says her innocence was shown and she was released. It was Dr. Craig that, investigating the facts on the spot, came upon the incident of the dance and the pardon. At the time Rizal could hardly have published it.

[9] Retana, p. 15; Craig, Chap. II.

[10] Rizal, “Childhood Impressions,” p. 1.

[11] About seven thousand in all, including rocks and reefs.

[12] In “El Progreso Material,” “The National Forum,” July, 1922.

[13] To be discussed in a later chapter.

[14] Craig and Benitez, “Philippine Progress Prior to 1898.”

[15] Dominicans, Franciscans, Augustinians, and the Recollect Fathers. Compare Barrows, “History of the Philippines,” p. 121.

[16] Fernández, “A Brief History of the Philippines,” p. 136.

[17] The Philippine Independence Mission of 1922 estimated the number at one hundred, great and small.

[18] Barrio: hamlet. Most Philippine farmers live gregariously.

[19] From 1844 to 1850. He was one of the reforming governor-generals and left a name more revered than the others.

[20] Retana, pp. 14–15.

[21] Craig, pp. 61, 63.

[22] Derbyshire.

[23] College of Santa Rosa.

[24] Rizal’s “Boyhood Story,” “The First Reading Lesson.”

[25] Craig, p. 78.

[26] Azotea: the roof of the porch of a Philippine house, usually at the rear.

[27] His “Boyhood Story,” p. 4.

[28] Sinamay: a native cloth woven of abaca (hemp) and sometimes of the fiber that is called “pineapple.”

[29] Mabolo: the date-plum, a reddish fruit, looking something like an apple, but turnip-shaped.

[30] The Jesuits were not one of the four orders that figure so conspicuously in this story. They had been banished from the Philippines as from Spain in 1767, and all their insular property, valued at 3,320,000 pesos, was confiscated by the Government. In 1852 another royal decree allowed them to return, but they never regained their former prominence and power.

[31] Craig, p. 82.

[32] Craig, p. 83; Derbyshire, p. xvi; Fernández, p. 226.

[33] Retana, pp. 18, 19.

[34] See Dr. Blumentritt’s article, Appendix D.

[35] Dr. Blumentritt; see Appendix D.

[36] “Blackwood’s,” November, 1902, p. 620.

[37] “Boyhood Story,” p. vi.

[38] “Boyhood Story,” p. 19.

[39] With a girl older than he was and already engaged to another. She seems to have been something of a flirt. A few years afterward he wrote (apparently for himself) an account of his feelings and sufferings in those days. Mariano Ponce, his friend and confidant, published the document in the “Revista Filipina,” December, 1916. It shows Rizal to have been a poetical and dreamy lover. When he discovered the hopeless nature of his attachment he wandered alone in the woods, given up to a melancholy conviction of misfortune, but recovered in time to fall in love again and learn the reality of his forebodings.

[40] The professor speaks these words in the vulgar dialect.

[41] “El Filibusterismo,” Chap. XIII. Derbyshire’s translation.

[42] “Boyhood Story”: v.

[43] Craig, p. 92.

[44] These poems are printed by Retana, pp. 26–29. A translation of one of them is attempted for the first time in the Appendix A of this work.

[45] London, 1875.

[46] Craig, p. 95.

[47] Craig, pp. 696–98.

[48] Rizal’s “Boyhood Story.”

[49] Retana, p. 31.

[50] See Appendix A.

[51] Craig, pp. 109–110.

[52] “Fair hope of my fatherland.”

[53] See Appendix A.

[54] Craig, p. 109.

[55] It was founded in 1603, only thirty-three years after the capture of Manila and the beginning of the Spanish domination.

[56] Retana.

[57] Craig, p. 109; Retana, pp. 34–35.

[58] His father’s sore difficulties, to be described later, were then beginning. Mr. Mercado continued to send money regularly to José through Mr. Rivera, the detour being necessary to protect himself.

[59] Craig, p. 111; Retana, pp. 56 and 57.

[60] Craig, p. 117; Retana, p. 59; Derbyshire, p. xxvii.

[61] While he was in the Philippines on the occasion of his first return there, 1887, he had with him a considerable collection of books in many languages but scarcely any in Spanish. A friend once called his attention to this fact and asked why he omitted Spanish books. “Well,” said Rizal, in his quiet way but with a twinkle in his eyes, “if they can’t read them they will not borrow them, will they?”

[62] Fernando Canon, Manila “Citizen,” December 31, 1921.

[63] Craig, p. 99.

[64] Craig, p. 76.

[65] Senator Sandiko’s recollections.

[66] Retana, p. 99.

[67] Craig, p. 126; Retana, pp. 103–105.

[68] For example, “The Flowers of Heidelberg,” printed in “La Solidaridad,” December 15, 1889.

[69] Mr. Derbyshire, a discriminating critic, calls it “a story pulsating with life.”

[70] Compare Derbyshire, p. xxxi.

[71] “Noli Me Tangere,” Chaps. LII and LVII.

[72] To western readers this will seem impossible. There are, however, attested instances of the savage practice.

[73] A vein of strange coincidence that seems almost like some intuition runs through Rizal’s novels. What happened to the ashes of the elder Ibarra in the story is exactly what happened a few years later to the ashes of Rizal’s brother-in-law.

[74] “The letter enters with the blood.” This was the favorite motto of Dr. Cruz, master of the school at Biñan, the first that Rizal attended. The protest here against corporal punishment in schools is doubtless sharpened from Rizal’s own experiences.

[75] “Noli Me Tangere,” Chap. XIX, Derbyshire’s translation.

[76] “Noli Me Tangere,” Chap. L, Derbyshire’s translation.

[77] Retana prints the original of this letter (in French) at pp. 125–126.

[78] For most of the information we have of this interesting young woman we are indebted to Miss Salud Sevilla of the College of Education, University of the Philippines, who traced her story and verified and illuminated the incidents here related.

[79] Retana, pp. 79–90, cites other references to letters received from and written to Leonora, indicating a prosperous correspondence.

[80] Craig, pp. 217–218.

[81] Miss Sevilla.

[82] Miss Sevilla.

[83] Craig, p. 219, and Miss Sevilla.

[84] A fact communicated by Mr. Fernando Canon.

[85] The title-page bears this imprint: “Berlin, Berliner buchdruckerei-actien-geselschaft.”

[86] Mr. Canon’s manuscript.

[87] Retana gives the findings and the letter of the archbishop, pp. 128–130.

[88] Derbyshire, p. xxxiii.

[89] Craig, p. 131; Retana, p. 135.

[90] Craig, p. 133.

[91] By this time, no doubt, he surmised that his love-affair had gone wrong, but he had no final confirmation of this misadventure until he reached Manila.

[92] Mr. Canon’s manuscript.

[93] Derbyshire, p. xxxiv.

[94] Craig, p. 137; Retana, pp. 144–145.

[95] It is customary to pretend otherwise, but this is the real heart of modern imperialism.

[96] Derbyshire, p. xxxiv.

[97] Craig, p. 138.

[98] It is the whole philosophy of “Noli Me Tangere.”

[99] Ladrones and Carolines were groups of islands in the South Seas that Spain owned and misgoverned.

[100] Craig, p. 140.

[101] Retana, p. 150. He sees nothing remarkable in these suddenly cordial relations.

[102] Rizal’s diary: see Appendix E. Retana (p. 152) prints a letter from Rizal to his friend Mariano Ponce in which he allows himself a little sarcasm about some of these experiences.

[103] Published in Mexico in 1609. De Morga had been in the Philippines from 1595 to 1605. Retana, pp. 172–173.

[104] This is confirmed by the recent investigations of Craig and Benitez, “Philippine Progress Prior to 1898.” No one denied or denies the existence of uncivilized or scantly civilized tribes in the interior. De Morga was speaking about the people near the coast.

Skepticism about early Filipino civilization is a necessary waiter at the heels of whomsoever wishes to defend imperialism.

De Morga’s work, newly translated, is printed in Blair and Robertson, Vol. XV.

[105] Craig, p. 146.

[106] Retana, p. 193.

[107] The office of the governor-general at Malacañan, Manila, has one painting by Luna that, if he had never painted anything else, would be enough to insure his fame.

Juan Luna was also a sturdy patriot. In 1897 he was arrested in Manila for conspiring in behalf of his country’s independence and by a narrow chance missed the firing-squad. After six months close imprisonment he was released and escaped from the country but returned and was present when the Spanish domination came to an end. (Foreman, p. 394.) His career was picturesque. He had been born in as poor a home as any in the Philippines and had begun life as a sailor. The city of Barcelona purchased and still has one of his paintings that had been awarded a prize at the Madrid Salon.

[108] Mr. Derbyshire says it was thrown to the dogs, but this must be a figure of speech. It seems to have been exposed until buried in unconsecrated ground.

[109] Craig, p. 154; Retana, p. 195.

[110] Craig, p. 170.

[111] Rizal’s own account, “The Turkey That Caused the Calamba Land Trouble.”

[112] Craig, p. 164.

[113] Retana, pp. 226–227, assumes to defend Weyler on the ground that he was “upholding judicial authority.” This must be a recrudescence of Retana’s press-agent days.

[114] “La Solidaridad” was started by Graciano Lopez Jaena at Barcelona. Del Pilar took charge of it in October, 1887, and moved it to Madrid to be nearer the centers of action. Compare Blair and Robertson, Vol. LII, p. 176.

[115] Retana, p. 199; Blair and Robertson, Vol. LII, p. 178.

[116] “The Reign of Greed” (“El Filibusterismo”), pp. 86–87; Derbyshire’s translation.

[117] Between “Noli Me Tangere” and “El Filibusterismo” is a vast difference. We speak of novels. In “Noli Me Tangere” all is fresh, ingenuous, impetuous; it is a novel that impresses one in such a way that it is never forgotten; it is a work of feeling. “El Filibusterismo” is a work of deep thought, and in literature it must be remembered that sentiment is preferred to thought. “Noli Me Tangere” is a picture of the whole country, rich in color and in fantasy, entwined with the dreams of a delicate poetry. “El Filibusterismo” came to be a series of philosophical-political treatises with a novelistic trend; every speech that appears in the work ends in a patriotic dissertation. “Noli Me Tangere” is the unbosoming of an enlightened poet, passionately patriotic, artistically revolutionary. “El Filibusterismo” is a series of meditations; it lacks the admixture of humor, of semi-sweet irony that produces such an effect in the first book. It despises the attacks of the religious fanatics, threatens with Voltairian sharpness. The ambient air of the tropics is not felt, charged full of melancholy, which is to be breathed in “Noli Me Tangere.” Rizal wrote his first novel having constantly before his dreamy fantasy the vision of his country as it was. In the second he wrote thinking of the redemption of his race, elevating the philosopher above the artist. “Noli Me Tangere” is a novel; “El Filibusterismo” is a tract on the national anarchy. Retana, p. 201.

[118] It was published in Ghent. The title-page bears this imprint: “Gent: Boekdrukkerij F. Meyer-Van Loo, Vlaanderstraat, 67. 1891.” Rizal was now able to defray from his own means the cost of publication. The Madrid newspaper, “El Nuevo Régimen,” published in October, 1891, “extensive extracts” from the novel; so did “La Publicidad” of Barcelona. Not a line of it was printed in the Philippines until 1900. Four years later it was translated into Tagalog.

[119] “Filipinas dentro de Cien Años,” in “La Solidaridad,” 1889–90.

We note that when Rizal discusses the possibility of future independence for his people he sets it as a century hence. We need not take him literally, nor on the other hand need we say his title was merely hypocritical and he was insidiously inciting his people to think of immediate independence; we shall be fairer to survey his writings as a whole, probably reaching the conclusion that the independence of his people was constantly in his mind, but sober reason warned him to restrain his and their youthful impatience on that subject. Blair and Robertson, “The Philippine Islands,” Vol. LII, pp. 202–203.

[120] In his pretty little romance, “Mariang Makiling,” he utters this protest against forced military service in the Philippines and indicates the effect it had on the people:

“Meanwhile, the time of the Spanish army’s conscription came. God knows the young men dreaded it, and how their mothers hated it! Youth, home, family, feelings, and sometimes honor itself, good-bye! Seven or eight years of such soldier life was brutalizing. The military despotism relied upon the lash. Such a prospect seemed to the youth a long night that would sap away the fairest portion of his life. In it would be horrible nightmares, and from it he would awake old, useless, corrupted, bloody, and cruel. So dreaded was the draft that some have been known to cut off their two fingers in order to exempt themselves from military service. Others pulled out their front teeth (in the days when the cartridge had to be bitten off). Still others fled to the mountains and became bandits. Not a few even committed suicide.”—Dr. Craig’s translation.

[121] Retana, pp. 181–182.

[122] “French Composition Exercises,” by José Rizal, B.A., Ph.M., L.C.M. (Madrid), Postgraduate student in Paris, Leipzig, Heidelberg, Berlin and London. Our copy is published by the Philippine Education Company, Manila, 1912.

[123] Craig, “Rizal as a French Student,” printed as an Appendix to the “French Composition Exercises.”

[124] “La Indolencia de los Filipinos,” translated by Dr. Craig, Manila, 1913.

[125] Pages 11–12.

[126] Page 13.

[127] Page 15.

[128] Page 17.

[129] Page 18.

[130] Page 22.

[131] Page 23.

[132] Page 26.

[133] Page 26.

[134] Page 27.

[135] Page 30.

[136] Page 37.

[137] Page 38.

[138] “The Outlook for the Philippines,” Chap. X.

[139] Flat-horned buffalo, the beast of burden in the Philippines.

[140] Page 49.

[141] Page 56.

[142] These and the succeeding particulars are communicated or verified by friends that knew him in Madrid at this time, had been in the university with him or observed him later.

[143] In a letter to the present authors.

[144] See Appendix A.

[145] Mr. Canon; also Craig.

[146] The letter will be found in a later chapter.

[147] Craig, p. 165. On Retana’s return from the Philippines he became connected with “La Politica de España en Filipinas,” an organ of reaction and most furiously opposed by “La Solidaridad.” From 1895 to 1898 he was the chief editor of this virulent sheet, which was undoubtedly maintained by the friars as their mouthpiece in the capital. Compare Blair and Robertson, Vol. LII, p. 164.

[148] Retana, p. 195.

[149] For a collection of astounding facts bearing upon the disregard of this part of the oath reference may be had to Foreman, “The Philippine Islands,” pp. 202–204.

[150] Chap. IV and X.

[151] As will appear later, this was either prevision or a knowledge of governor-generals so accurate it is almost phenomenal.

[152] Chap. XI.

[153] Chap. XVIII.

[154] Convento: priest’s house.

[155] Chap. XXX.

[156] Chap. XXVII.

[157] Chap. XXXIII–XXXV.

[158] Chap. XXXIX.

[159] Retana, pp. 194–195. He dwells with sympathy upon Rizal’s unselfish devotion to his family.

[160] Craig, pp. 172–174; Retana, pp. 231–233.

[161] Craig, p. 182; Retana, p. 235.

[162] They bear the same date, June 20, 1892. Retana, p. 243.

[163] Retana prints the Spanish original at p. 243.

[164] Dr. Craig’s translation, pp. 176–179.

[165] Craig, p. 179.

[166] Craig, p. 182.

[167] The Economic Society of Friends of the Country was established by Governor-General Basco in 1780. It was about as radical, revolutionary, and dangerous as Despujol himself.

[168] It appears that the first members he enrolled were friends of his in the masonic lodge, which probably gave rise to the story that La Liga Filipina was a masonic organization. Rizal had been warmly welcomed by his brother masons at Manila and was pleasantly astonished to find the lodge so large and flourishing.

The Constitution of the Liga declared these to be its Ends:

1. To unite the whole archipelago into one compact, vigorous, and homogeneous body. 2. Mutual protection in every want and necessity. 3. Defense against all violence and injustice. 4. Encouragement of industry, agriculture, and commerce. 5. The study and application of reforms.

The motto was “Unus instar omnium.” (One like all.)

[169] The idea of such a society originated with José Maria Basa, one of the remarkable Filipinos then refugees in Hong-Kong. He mentioned it to Rizal and suggested a constitution, which Rizal, with his trained intellect, quickly formulated.

[170] Retana, pp. 252–253, says it had spread into the provinces before the Spanish Government was well aware of what was going on.

[171] “Rizal’s Own Story,” p. 53.

[172] Craig, p. 190; Derbyshire, p. xxxvii. Mr. Derbyshire calls the decree of banishment “a marvel of sophistry.” Retana’s version, pp. 254–255, justifies this verdict.

[173] Petates: bed-mats. Mattresses were little used in the Philippines.

[174] Once more, justice à la espagnole in the Philippines. Dr. Craig has the full story.

[175] Practicante: practitioner in surgery and medicine.

[176] Craig, p. 196.

[177] Craig, p. 198.

[178] Dr. Craig, p. 223, has photographic reproductions of some of these.

[179] “Another famous and well-known water supply is that of Dapitan, Mindanao, designed and constructed by Dr. José Rizal during his banishment in that municipality by the Spanish authorities.... This supply comes from a little mountain stream across the river from Dapitan and follows the contour of the country for the whole distance. When one considers that Dr. Rizal had no explosives with which to blast the hard rocks, and no resources save his own ingenuity, one cannot help but honor a man that against adverse conditions had the courage and tenacity to construct this aqueduct, which had for its bottom the fluted tiles from the houseroofs and was covered with concrete made from lime burned from sea coral. The length of this aqueduct is several kilometers, and it winds in and out among the rocks and is carried across gullies in bamboo pipes upheld by rock or brick piers to the distributing reservoir.”—Quarterly Bulletin, Department of Public Works, October, 1912.

[180] Mr. Soliven, “Rizal as a Scientist.”

In about three years he sent to the museum at Dresden nine mammals, thirteen birds, forty-five reptiles, nine fishes, 240 insects, sixty-eight crustaceans, and other invertebrates.

[181] Craig, pp. 148–149.

[182] Printed by Retana, pp. 328–329.

[183] See Appendix A.

[184] He refers to the long contest between the orders and the part of the clergy (largely native) that was outside of the orders, called “the secular clergy.” What he means is to end the power of the orders to fill the parish appointments. In this conversation, Carnicero seems to be leading him to speak of the friars—the most perilous of topics.

[185] Retana, p. 327.

[186] Dr. Craig’s translation, first printed with his “Rizal’s Own Story.”

[187] Rizal to his mother.

[188] Retana, p. 338.

[189] Craig, p. 103.

[190] Retana, p. 338.

[191] Craig, p. 272.

[192] Craig, p. 214; Retana, pp. 339–340.

[193] Craig, p. 215; Derbyshire, p. xlvii.

[194] Retana, p. 248, hails him as “Grand figure!”

[195] Fernández, p. 241.

[196] Fernández, p. 240.

[197] Retana, p. 342.

[198] Craig, p. 224; also, Retana, p. 342.

[199] Dr. Blumentritt had been so resentful of the injustice of which Rizal was a victim that he had endeavored to have the German Government protest against Rizal’s deportation. Retana, p. 316.

[200] Retana prints this at p. 349.

[201] Retana, pp. 347–348.

[202] Derbyshire, p. xii.

[203] Fernández, p. 244.

“The ordinary prisons were more than full, and about 600 suspects were confined in the dungeons of Fort Santiago at the mouth of the Pasig river, where a frightful tragedy occurred. The dungeons were overcrowded ... the Spanish sergeant on duty threw his rug over the only light and ventilating shaft and in a couple of days carts were seen by many citizens carrying away the dead, calculated to number seventy. Provincial governors and parish priests seemed to regard it as a duty to supply the capital with batches of ‘suspects’ from their localities. In Vigan, where nothing had occurred, many of the heads of the best families and moneyed men were arrested and brought to Manila. They were bound hand and foot and carried like packages of merchandise in the hold. I happened to be on the quay when the steamer discharged her living freight with chains and hooks to haul up and swing out the bodies like bales of hemp.... I was informed by my friend the Secretary of the Military Court that 4,377 individuals were awaiting trial by court martial.”—John Foreman, “The Philippine Islands,” pp. 375, 377.

In September alone thirty-seven men were shot after summary trials. Compare Blair and Robertson, Vol. LII, p. 191.

[204] Foreman, p. 376.

[205] Craig, pp. 229–230; Blair and Robertson, Vol. LII, p. 190.

[206] Foreman, p. 376.

[207] Retana, p. 351. “No! Prófugo? No! Me declararían cómplice del levantamiento!”

[208] Craig, p. 231; Derbyshire, p. xliii.

[209] His old friend, Dr. Antonio Maria Regidor of London, was the author of this plan. It went so far that all the papers were drawn up and signed. Retana prints them at pp. 352–353.

[210] Craig, p. 234.

[211] Dr. Craig’s translation.

[212] Craig, p. 237.

[213] The other, in rime, excellently done by Mr. Derbyshire, will be found in the Appendix. The blank verse translation printed above was once heard in the American House of Representatives and gave rise to a memorable scene. A debate was on concerning Philippine independence. In a speech of great power and eloquence, Representative Cooper, of Wisconsin, supported the plea of the Filipinos. In the course of his argument he told how he had indifferently picked up at a book-stall a

## book containing the farewell poem of José Rizal, of whom he knew next

to nothing; how he had read it and been so seized with its beauty that he had bought the book and committed the poem to memory. Then he recited it. After the first few lines a profound silence fell upon the chamber, unbroken to the end. As Mr. Cooper uttered the last great line in this wonderful composition, there was an exhibition of emotion unwonted in that place. One of the oldest and most famous representatives, little given to sentiment, afterward admitted that the poem and Mr. Cooper’s speech had converted him to the Philippine cause. He said that a race capable of producing a man of such character and attainments was a race entitled to and capable of its freedom.

[214] Retana, p. 417. The newspaper represented was the “Herald” of Madrid.

[215] His letters show this.

[216] Craig, p. 244.

Mr. Derbyshire (p. xlvi) does not indorse this opinion, and Retana (p. 287) recounts a discussion between Rizal and a Jesuit priest in which Rizal seemed to repudiate the doctrine of the eucharist. But Dr. Craig came to the conclusion that in faith Rizal never wavered from the foundation principles of the church. Whosoever reads now attentively the passages in his writings that seem to express his convictions on this subject can hardly fail to be impressed with the noble and exalted piety that breathes through them and is not likely to believe that this could be otherwise than sincere.

[217] Craig, p. 244.

[218] This would be insisted upon first of all.

[219] The obvious lies that have been piled high over all these matters must fill every investigator with disgust. The friars promptly issued (from Barcelona) what purported to be a circumstantial account of Rizal’s last hours. Almost every statement in it susceptible of any examination has been shown to be false, or impossible. The liars have even managed to make doubtful the ecclesiastical marriage with Josephine. They said that the record of it was in Manila Cathedral, but it is not and never has been discovered. They said that Rizal signed in a book of devotions his full acceptance of the articles of faith and gave it to his sister. His sister afterward could not recall having seen it and it was never found. They said that he was fully reconciled to the church, but his burial was not in accordance with the church’s rites.

One fact about the matter and only one seems reasonably certain. If Rizal had signed any document that could have been of the slightest use to the governing Interests it would have been exhibited and used at that time so perilous to Spain. A great rebellion was on; the immediate impulse to it was resentment against the ill treatment of Rizal and the inspiration of freedom. Anything in the nature of a retraction from him would have been worth to the Spanish cause more than the strength of many brigades. The mysterious document he was alleged to have signed has mysteriously disappeared. The friars said they took it to the Ateneo, and thence sent it by messenger to the archbishop, to be deposited in the archiepiscopal records. There all trace of it was lost—if there ever was such a paper. It was for Spain, if these accounts have any truth, the most valuable thing in all the Philippines, and the cunning persons that had (again by these accounts) produced a jewel of such price immediately allowed it to slip into the gutter. Not unless they had all gone mad.

The whole subject, which might well be considered as extraneous to the real significance of Rizal’s life and death, was revived in 1920 by the appearance in Barcelona of a brochure by Gonzalo M. Piñana entitled “Murió el Doctor Rizal Cristianamente?” (Did Doctor Rizal Die a Christian?), with the subtitle of “Reconstruction of the Last Hours of his Life: a Historical Study.” Unfortunately, the book renewed a futile discussion without adding a line to the available information about it. Mr. Piñana gathered the newspaper reports current at the time of Rizal’s death, used the statements of the friars already discredited, and reprinted the assertions that for twenty-four years had been made on one side and repudiated on the other. He satisfied himself that Rizal died a Christian, but everybody else had long before been satisfied of that fact. But while he added nothing to the store of human wisdom on these subjects, Mr. Piñana reminds us of an incident that is well worth preserving. Among the persons moved by the tragedy to sympathy with the condemned man was the attorney-general of the Philippines, Señor Castaño, who said to him:

“Rizal, you love passionately your mother and your country. Both are Catholic. Do you not think it will be very hard for you to die outside of their chosen religion?” To which Rizal replied:

“Mr. Attorney-General, you may be sure that I have no intention of closing the gates of eternity upon myself.” Piñana, p. 79.

[220] Craig, p. 240.

[221] Retana, p. 428.

[222] Clifford, in “Blackwood’s Magazine.”

[223] Retana, p. 429.

[224] Retana, p. 431; Craig, p. 248. The details of the last scene in Retana’s account followed here were supplied to him by Dr. Saura, who said he followed the death-march and tried to hear all that was said.

[225] Foreman, “The Philippine Islands.” p. 386.

[226] Retana, pp. 430–432; Craig, pp. 247–250; Derbyshire, pp. xlvii–xlix; Clifford in “Blackwood’s Magazine”; Mr. Tavera’s corrections; Piñana; Foreman, Chap. XXII.

[227] Craig, p. 251.

[228] Craig, p. 259.

[229] He rose from the ranks to the grade of brigadier-general.

[230] General Monet (Spanish) operated in the north against the rebels with Spanish and native auxiliary forces. He attacked the armed mobs in Zambales province, where encounters of minor importance took place almost daily, with no decisive victory for either party. He showed no mercy and took no prisoners; his troops shot down or bayoneted rebels, non-combatants, women and children indiscriminately. Tillage was carried on at the risk of one’s life, for men found going out to their lands were seized as spies and treated with the utmost severity as possible sympathizers with the rebels. He carried this war of extermination up to Ilocos, where, little by little, his forces deserted him. His auxiliaries went over to the rebels in groups. Even a few Spaniards passed to the other side, and, after a protracted struggle which brought no advantage to the government, he left garrisons in several places and returned to Manila.—Foreman, p. 390.

[231] Treaty of Biacnabato.

[232] Fernández, p. 251.

“That Spanish circles in Manila as well as the Filipinos were in expectation, late in 1897, and early in 1898, of the announcement of some comprehensive scheme of Philippine reform is apparent from the press of that time.”—Blair and Robertson, Vol. LII, pp. 200–201.

[233] For a full account of these difficulties, see “The Outlook for the Philippines,” pp. 77–98.

[234] Barrows, “History of the Philippines,” p. 308.

[235] Incredible as it may seem, when the first anniversary of his death came, December 30, 1897, the implacable Interests made it an occasion of public holiday and rejoicing.

[236] With other evidences of gratitude the legislature sought to bestow a pension on Rizal’s mother. The character of this extraordinary woman was revealed again in her response. She declined the pension on the ground that it would lower the standard of patriotism observed in her family. The Rizals, she said, did not serve Filipinas for money.

José Rizal’s father died soon after José’s murder. His mother lived to see the Spanish flag pulled down and the power of the friars annihilated. Paciano Rizal was living in 1923, a prosperous farmer. Mrs. José Rizal joined the insurgent army after her husband’s death and for a short time appeared with rifle in hand in the trenches. Soon afterward she retired to a hospital, where she served for a time as a nurse. She then made her way to Manila, where she had a heated interview with Governor-General de Rivera.—(Foreman, p. 388.)

“What did you go to Imus for?” inquired the general.

“What did you go there for?” rejoined Josephine.

“To fight,” said the general.

“So did I,” said Josephine.

“Will you leave Manila?” asked the general.

“Why should I?” asked Josephine.

“The friars will not leave you alone if you stay there, and they will bring false evidence against you. I have no power to overrule theirs.”

“Then what is the use of being governor-general?”

Because of her adopted father’s nationality, she was now under American protection; otherwise she would have experienced the vengeful feeling that still possessed the reigning powers. She made her way to Hong-Kong, where, after a time, she remarried and so passed from history.

[237] In the life of Rizal the note of physical love is scarcely perceived. Don Isabelo de los Reyes has written:

“I have said that he sacrificed even his natural passions for his country, because if Rizal would have stretched forth his hand for better favor from the Philippines, he would easily have received it; and yet he did not marry, undoubtedly so as not to bring misfortune on his family because of the horrible end which he foresaw, and only ‘in articulato mortis’ married a foreigner who had been his sweetheart. Thus he made patent the fact that he did not hate the white race, as his enemies the priests claimed. They are very much interested in having it believed that the insurrectionists do not hate them directly, but the entire white race, which is a calumny, as are so many others that they are wont to invent to help obtain their ends.”—Retana, p. 338.