Rizal's Diaries
On the Confiscation of His Diary
November 2, 1896
Monday, 2 November -- Today, they returned to me this notebook which they took away on the 11th of last month before reaching Port Said. For this reason my diary was interrupted. They searched me and inspected thoroughly my luggage. They took away all my papers and afterward they put me behind bars and they did not take me out until we reached the Red Sea. That was what they did to me in 16 hours before our arrival. Also twice they put me in four or six hours before and they take me out when we are already in the high seas. However, at Singapore they put me in 16 hours before our arrival. Also twice they put handcuffs on me. On His Arrest in Fort Santiago
July 6, 1892
They assigned me a fairly furnished room with a bed, a dozen chairs, one table, a wash basin, and a mirror. The room had three windows; one without grill which opens on a patio, another with grills which looks out on the city walls and the beach and another which was the door closed with a padlock. Two artillery men as sentinels guarded it. They had orders to fire on anyone who might signal from the beach. I could not write nor speak with anyone except the officer on duty. On Madrid
Madrid is one of the gayest cities of the world which combines the spirit of Europe and the East, which has adopted the orderliness, the convenience, the bon ton of civilized Europe without disdaining, without repelling, the brilliant colors, the ardent passions, the primitive customs of the African tribes, of the chivalrous Arabs whose traces are still recognizable everywhere, in the look, feelings, and prejudices of the people, and even in their laws.
On Gambling Filipinos in Madrid
May 28, 1890
Luna in Paris complains of the gambling of the Filipinos in Madrid, so does Ventura. They say that, according to news from the Philippines, the parents are very much disgusted... I am afraid we are serving the friars' scheme. There is nothing at home to remind them that the Filipino does not come to Europe to gamble or amuse himself, but to work for his liberty and for the dignity of his race. It is not necessary to leave the Philippines to gamble, for there they already gamble very much. If we who are called upon to do something, if we in whom the poor people place their modest hopes, spend our time in these things precisely when the years of youth should be employed in something more noble and lofty for the reason that youth is noble and lofty, I fear much that we are fighting for a useless illusion and that, instead of being worthy of liberty, we are worthy of slavery. On America
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On Life in Dapitan
December 19, 1893
I shall tell you how we live here. I have three houses: one square, another hexagonal, and a third octagonal, all of bamboo, wood, and nipa. In the square house we live, my mother, sister Trinidad, a nephew and I; in the octagonal live my boys or some good youngsters whim I teach arithmetic, Spanish and English; and in the hexagonal live my chickens. From my house I hear the murmur of a crystal, clear brook which comes from the high rocks; I see the seashore, the sea where I have small boats, two canoes or barotos, as they say here. I have many fruit trees, mangoes, lanzones, guyabanos, baluno, nanka, etc. I have rabbits, dogs, cats, etc. I rise early -- at five -- visit my plants, feed the chickens, awaken my people and put them in movement. At half-past seven we breakfast with tea, pastries, cheese, sweetmeats, etc. Later I treat my poor patients who come to my land; I dress, go to the town in my baroto, treat the people there, and return at 12, when my luncheon awaits me. Then I teach the boys until 4 PM and devote the afternoon to agriculture. I spend the night reading and studying. On Finishing the El Filibusterismo
I have finished my book! Oh no, I have not written it in my idea of revenge against my enemies by only what is for the good of those who are suffering, for the rights of the Tagalog race, though brown and may not have good features!
Surely I will leave tomorrow for Paris, and from there I don't know where I am going. On Preparing to Go Home
July 18, 1890
I want to go back to the Philippines, and although I know it would be daring and imprudent, what does that matter? The Filipinos are all very prudent, and that is why our country is going the way she is. As it seems to me that we are not making any progress by following prudence, I am going to look for another pathway! The only thing that can detain me is a doubt whether my parents agree. I am afraid to disturb their last years. In case they should object to my homecoming, I would work for a livelihood in some other part of the world. On Paris
May 16, 1889
My daily life in Paris is spent in the following manner: one or two hours in the gymnasium and in fencing, three or four hours in the library, the rest I use up in writing and visiting friends... Every other night from 8:00 to 11:00 we meet in a cafe where we play chess. On Saturdays I am invited to eat at Luna's house, on Sundays at Mrs. Juliana's, and on Fridays I visit the family of Boustead (also a Filipino) where sometimes I take tea. |
Monday, May 7. I saw an Indian 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 passed 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 island of Talim in Laguna de Bay. We saw three Mormon boys at Farminton. There were sheep, cows, and horses in the meadows. This region is not thickly populated. A flock of ducks in the lake... Children greeted us at Salt Lake City. In Utah, the women serve at the table... We changed train at Ogden, and we still not have any change until Denver. In Provo I ate much for 75 cents. We are passing between two mountains through a narrow channel.
Wednesday, May 9. We are passing through the mountains and rocks along a river; the river is noisy and its noise gives life to the lifeless territory. We woke up at Colorado, the 5th state we crossed over. At 10:30 we climb up a certain height, and this is why snow is seen along the way. There are many pines. We passed through tunnels made of wood to protect the road against snow. Icicles in these tunnels are very bright which gave majestic effect. The porter of the Pullman Care, an American, is sort of thief. Colorado has more trees than the three states we passed over. There are many horses.
Thursday, May 10. We woke up in Nebraska. The country is a plain. We reached Omaha, a big city -- the biggest since we left San Francisco. The Missouri River is twice as wide as the Pasig River in its widest part. It is marshy... 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 woke up near Chicago. The country is cultivated. It shows our nearness to Chicago. We left Chicago at 8:14 Friday night. What I observed in Chicago is that every cigar store has an Indian figure, and always different.
Saturday, May 12. A good Wagner Car -- we were 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 to 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 Banos; but much bigger, more imposing... 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 woke 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... The Hudson is wide. Beautiful ships. Sliced granite rocks were paved along the railroads... There were beautiful houses between trees. Day fine. Our grand transcontinental trip ended on Sunday, May 13, at 11:10 A.am.
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 passed 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 island of Talim in Laguna de Bay. We saw three Mormon boys at Farminton. There were sheep, cows, and horses in the meadows. This region is not thickly populated. A flock of ducks in the lake... Children greeted us at Salt Lake City. In Utah, the women serve at the table... We changed train at Ogden, and we still not have any change until Denver. In Provo I ate much for 75 cents. We are passing between two mountains through a narrow channel.
Wednesday, May 9. We are passing through the mountains and rocks along a river; the river is noisy and its noise gives life to the lifeless territory. We woke up at Colorado, the 5th state we crossed over. At 10:30 we climb up a certain height, and this is why snow is seen along the way. There are many pines. We passed through tunnels made of wood to protect the road against snow. Icicles in these tunnels are very bright which gave majestic effect. The porter of the Pullman Care, an American, is sort of thief. Colorado has more trees than the three states we passed over. There are many horses.
Thursday, May 10. We woke up in Nebraska. The country is a plain. We reached Omaha, a big city -- the biggest since we left San Francisco. The Missouri River is twice as wide as the Pasig River in its widest part. It is marshy... 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 woke up near Chicago. The country is cultivated. It shows our nearness to Chicago. We left Chicago at 8:14 Friday night. What I observed in Chicago is that every cigar store has an Indian figure, and always different.
Saturday, May 12. A good Wagner Car -- we were 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 to 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 Banos; but much bigger, more imposing... 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 woke 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... The Hudson is wide. Beautiful ships. Sliced granite rocks were paved along the railroads... There were beautiful houses between trees. Day fine. Our grand transcontinental trip ended on Sunday, May 13, at 11:10 A.am.
On O-Sei-San
Japan has enchanted me. The beautiful scenery, the flowers, the trees, the inhabitants -- so peaceful, so courteous, and so pleasant. O-Sei-San, Sayonara, Sayonara! I have spent a happy golden month; I do not know if I can have another one like that in all my life. Love, money, friendship, appreciation, honors -- these have not been wanting.
To think that I am leaving this life for the uncertain, the unknown. There I was offered an easy way to life, beloved and esteemed... To you I dedicate the final chapter of these memoirs of my youth. No woman, like you, has ever loved me. No woman, like you has ever sacrificed for me. Like the flower of the chodji that falls from the stem fresh and whole without falling leaves or without withering -- with poetry still despite its fall -- thus you fell. Neither have you lost your purity nor have the delicate petals of your innocence faded -- Sayonara, Sayonara! You shall never return to know that I have once more thought of you and that your image lives in my memory; and undoubtedly, I am always thinking of you. Your name lives in the sight of my lips, your image accompanies and animates all my thoughts. When shall I return to pass another divine afternoon like that in the temple of Meguro? When shall the sweet hours I spent with you return? When shall I find them sweeter, more tranquil, more pleasing? You the color of the camellia, its freshness, its elegance... Ah! Last descendant of a noble family, faithful to an unfortunate vengeance, you are lovely like... everything has ended! Sayonara, Sayonara! On the Tumultuous Riotings to His Family
When the new Rector went to assume office next day [November 21,1884], feelings were much irritated, we were still seeing red, it was resolved not to return to classes as long as they did not give us satisfaction, and remove the Rector. There were repeated shouts of "Down with Creus!" I was there also. On that day there were new encounters, new fights, wounded, cane blows, imprisonment, etc. It was on this same day, the 21st, when a police lieutenant and a secret service man wanted to seize Ventura and me, but he and I escaped. Two Filipinos were taken prisoners.
On the third day, Saturday, the 22nd, the new Rector Creus called the police to occupy the University, to the great disgust of the professors and the great indignation of the students. On this day, because the agent of the law were staring very much at me, and I do not know why, I had to disguise myself three times. None entered the classes. More blows, wounded, etc. More than 80 guards occupied the University up and down; they had their guns and bugles in the lecture hall. The boulevard Del Prado was occupied by the cavalry, cannons, and soldiers. On this day we swore not to return to this dishonored University, whose Rector was imposed on it by force and threat, and in which we are treated as persons without dignity; and we have sworn not to go back until they give us complete satisfaction, and reinstate the old Rector, remove Creus who is a disgrace to the physicians who wanted to expel him from the Academy [of Medicine and Surgery] for lacking in dignity and self-respect... This Rector; to avoid the catcalls and insults of the students, leaves and enters the University though a secret door in the garden. All the papers of Madrid and in the provinces, except those of the Ministry, are in our favor, severely accusing the Government; the people also are on our side, and the students of the provinces are adhering to us. A rich banker offered ten thousand duros to the ex-Rector to bail out the imprisoned students, so much so that they take our cause as theirs. I had the luck of not having received even a cane blow, nor taken prisoner, nor arrested despite my two roles as student of medicine and of philosophy and letters... Whether it was luck or not, the case is that there were wounded old men, women, children, soldiers, strangers; I did not even have to run... No Filipino was wounded, but Cubans and Spaniards, many. |
On Rome
June 27, 1887
I am in Rome! Everything I step on is the dust of heroes. Here I breathe the same air which the Roman heroes have breathed. I salute every statue with reverence, and to me, a humble native of a small island, it seems that I am in a sanctuary. I have already seen the Capitolium, the Tarpeian Rock, the Palatinum, the Forum Romanum, the Amphitheatre, etc. Everything here is glorious except the cafes and the cafe singers. I do not enter these [cafes] because I loathe to hear their French songs or see modern industries. My favorite places are the Amphitheatre and the Roman Forum; there I remain seated for hours, contemplating everything and restoring life to the ruins... I have also visited some churches and museums, like the Capitoline Museum and the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore, which is also grandiose. On Heidelberg University
August 6, 1886
For its fifth centenary the famous University of Heidelberg celebrated its Festung this morning, and we attended. I liked the picture better than the original itself. There were, however, many elegant and brilliant costumes; Bugmuller, the famous student of Heidelberg, was dressed as Frederick the Victorious; Lieberman, as a gentleman of the seventeenth century; Gregoire, wolf of Schwahen, etc. Last night was Schlorsfest. When will these gaieties enjoyed in this poetic and beautiful city come back? When will the foreigners return there? When shall I return after I shall have left? Inquire the fate of the molecules of water that the sun evaporates.. Some fall as dew on the bosoms of the flowers; others are converted to ice and snow; others into mud or swamp or torrential cascade -- they are not lost but continue to live in nature. Will my soul have the fate of water -- never being lost into nothingness? On Leaving for Spain
But as God has not made anything useless in this world, as all beings fulfill obligations or a role in the sublime drama of Creation, I cannot exempt myself from this duty, and small though it be, I too have a mission to fulfill, as for example: alleviating the sufferings of my fellow-men. I realize that all this means sacrifices, and terrible ones. I imagine the pain which I must give you (parents), but I feel something that obliges and impels me to leave. I shall strive with fate, and I shall win or lose... God's will be done.
On the Martyrdom of GomBurZa
Without 1872 there would not be now either a Plaridel or Jaena, or Sanciangco, nor would there exist brave and generous Filipino colonies in Europe; without 1872 Rizal would be a Jesuit now and, instead of writing Noli Me Tangere, would have written the opposite. At the sight of those injustices and cruelties while still a child my imagination was awakened and I swore to devote myself to avenge one day so many victims and with this idea in mind I have been studying, and this can be read in all my works and writings. God will someday give me an opportunity to carry out my promise.
On Memories at Laguna de Bay
I spent many, many hours of my childhood down on the shore of the lake, Laguna de Bay. I was thinking of what was beyond. I was dreaming of what might be over on the other side of the waves. Almost every day, in our town, we saw the Guardia Civil lieutenant caning and injuring some unarmed and inoffensive villagers. The villager's only fault was that while at a distance he had not taken off his hat and made his bow. The alcalde treated the poor villagers in the same way whenever he visited us.
We saw no restraint put upon brutality. Acts of violence and other excesses were committed daily... I asked myself if, in the lands which lay across the lake, the people lived in this same way. I wondered if there they tortured any countryman with hard and cruel whips merely on suspicion. Did they there respect the home? Or ever yonder also, in order to live in peace, would one have to bribe tyrants? |
On The Story of the Moth
One night, all the family, except my mother and myself, went to bed early. Why, I do not know, but we two remained sitting alone. The candles had already been put out. They had been blown out in their globes by means of a curved tube of tin. That tube seemed to me the finest and most wonderful plaything in the world. The room was dimly lighted by a single light of coconut oil. In all Filipino homes such a light burns through the night. It goes out just at day-break to awaken people by its spluttering.
My mother was teaching me to read in a Spanish reader called "The Children's Friend" (El Amigo de los Ninos). This was quite a rare book and an old copy. It had lost its cover and my sister had cleverly made a new one. She had fastened a sheet of thick blue paper over the back and then covered it with a piece of cloth.
This night my mother became impatient with hearing me read so poorly. I did not understand Spanish and so I could not read with expression. She took the book from me. First she scolded me for drawing funny pictures on its pages. Then she told me to listen and she began to read. When her sight was good, she read very well. She could recite well, and she understood verse-making, too. Many times during Christmas vacations, my mother corrected my poetical compositions, and she always made valuable criticisms.
I listened to her, full of childish enthusiasm. I marvelled at the nice-sounding phrases which she read from those same pages. The phrases she read so easily stopped me at every breath. Perhaps I grew tired of listening to sounds that had no meaning for me. Perhaps I lacked self-control. Anyway, I paid little attention to the reading. I was watching the cheerful flame. About it, some little moths were circling in playful flights. By chance, too, I yawned. My mother soon noticed that I was not interested. She stopped reading. Then she said to me: "I am going to read you a very pretty story. Now pay attention."
On hearing the word 'story' I at once opened my eyes wide. The word 'story' promised something new and wonderful. I watched my mother while she turned the leaves of the book, as if she were looking for something. Then I settled down to listen. I was full of curiosity and wonder. I had never even dreamed that there were stories in the old book which I read without understanding. My mother began to read me the fable of the young moth and the old one. She translated it into Tagalog a little at a time.
My attention increased from the first sentence. I looked toward the light and fixed my gaze on the moths which were circling around it. The story could not have been better timed. My mother repeated the warning of the old moth. She dwelt upon it and directed it to me. I heard her, but it is a curious thing that the light seemed to me each time more beautiful, the flame more attractive. I really envied the fortune of the insects. They frolicked so joyously in its enchanting splendor that the ones which had fallen and been drowned in the oil did not cause me any dread.
My mother kept on reading and I listened breathlessly. The fate of the two insects interested me greatly. The flame rolled its golden tongue to one side and a moth which this movement had singed fell into the oil, fluttered for a time and then became quiet. That became for me a great event. A curious change came over me which I have always noticed in myself whenever anything has stirred my feelings. The flame and the moth seemed to go further away and my mother's words sounded strange and uncanny. I did not notice when she ended the fable. All my attention was fixed on the face of the insect. I watched it with my whole soul... It had died a martyr to its illusions.
As she put me to bed, my mother said: "See that you do not behave like the young moth. Don't be disobedient, or you may get burnt as it did." I do not know whether I answered or not... The story revealed to me things until then unknown. Moths no longer were, for me, insignificant insects. Moths talked; they know how to warn. They advised just like my mother. The light seemed to me more beautiful. It had grown more dazzling and more attractive. I knew why the moths circled the flame.
My mother was teaching me to read in a Spanish reader called "The Children's Friend" (El Amigo de los Ninos). This was quite a rare book and an old copy. It had lost its cover and my sister had cleverly made a new one. She had fastened a sheet of thick blue paper over the back and then covered it with a piece of cloth.
This night my mother became impatient with hearing me read so poorly. I did not understand Spanish and so I could not read with expression. She took the book from me. First she scolded me for drawing funny pictures on its pages. Then she told me to listen and she began to read. When her sight was good, she read very well. She could recite well, and she understood verse-making, too. Many times during Christmas vacations, my mother corrected my poetical compositions, and she always made valuable criticisms.
I listened to her, full of childish enthusiasm. I marvelled at the nice-sounding phrases which she read from those same pages. The phrases she read so easily stopped me at every breath. Perhaps I grew tired of listening to sounds that had no meaning for me. Perhaps I lacked self-control. Anyway, I paid little attention to the reading. I was watching the cheerful flame. About it, some little moths were circling in playful flights. By chance, too, I yawned. My mother soon noticed that I was not interested. She stopped reading. Then she said to me: "I am going to read you a very pretty story. Now pay attention."
On hearing the word 'story' I at once opened my eyes wide. The word 'story' promised something new and wonderful. I watched my mother while she turned the leaves of the book, as if she were looking for something. Then I settled down to listen. I was full of curiosity and wonder. I had never even dreamed that there were stories in the old book which I read without understanding. My mother began to read me the fable of the young moth and the old one. She translated it into Tagalog a little at a time.
My attention increased from the first sentence. I looked toward the light and fixed my gaze on the moths which were circling around it. The story could not have been better timed. My mother repeated the warning of the old moth. She dwelt upon it and directed it to me. I heard her, but it is a curious thing that the light seemed to me each time more beautiful, the flame more attractive. I really envied the fortune of the insects. They frolicked so joyously in its enchanting splendor that the ones which had fallen and been drowned in the oil did not cause me any dread.
My mother kept on reading and I listened breathlessly. The fate of the two insects interested me greatly. The flame rolled its golden tongue to one side and a moth which this movement had singed fell into the oil, fluttered for a time and then became quiet. That became for me a great event. A curious change came over me which I have always noticed in myself whenever anything has stirred my feelings. The flame and the moth seemed to go further away and my mother's words sounded strange and uncanny. I did not notice when she ended the fable. All my attention was fixed on the face of the insect. I watched it with my whole soul... It had died a martyr to its illusions.
As she put me to bed, my mother said: "See that you do not behave like the young moth. Don't be disobedient, or you may get burnt as it did." I do not know whether I answered or not... The story revealed to me things until then unknown. Moths no longer were, for me, insignificant insects. Moths talked; they know how to warn. They advised just like my mother. The light seemed to me more beautiful. It had grown more dazzling and more attractive. I knew why the moths circled the flame.