27 June 1888

London

No one would take the slightest step to enable Rizal’s works to enter Madrid – Send to Manila copies of Noli, even if they are not paid for – Some German doctors felicitate him – Literature is a secondary matter; the principal thing is to think and feel rightly – One ought to work always with the head and the heart and with the arms when the time comes – What I want is to be eclipsed by a pleiad of fellow countrymen at the time of my death.

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37 Chalcot Crescent, Primrose Hill, N.W., London

27 June 1888

Mr. Mariano Ponce

My very esteemed Friend,

I have received your cordial letter of 22nd instant and I am sincerely grateful to you for the promptness with which you have always complied with my bothersome requests.

There is nothing for which I have to forgive you because the edition[1] that you sent me is very useful and if you had not sent it and I had known it, I would have surely asked you for it. I still have to be grateful to you for it.

If you can send me the book to Paris, you can do it by addressing it either to Luna[2] at 175 Boulevard Periere (For Mr. Rizal), Paris or to Mr. Felix Hidalgo,[3] 65 Boulevard Arago (For Mr. Rizal), Paris. You may use any one of the two addresses, though it would be better to address it to Luna, the latter address being out of town. Please see to it that the remittance is the safest and the least costly B. B. B.

A fellow countryman, friend of mine, resident of Madrid, has advised me of the unfavorable reception by many of our countrymen over there, calling their behavior as downright inexpressible. According to this friend, no one wanted to take the slightest step to enable my works to reach Madrid and they were already at the frontier, the freight paid, and the authorization granted. It happened that I had to leave for the Philippines and until my return, this June, the wretched copies had not yet been able to enter. At the present moment, I don’t know whether they have entered or not. One who judges adversely my work after having read it does not hurt me or makes me sad, because the most that this can show is that I have written badly; but he who judges it unfavorably without having read it tells me a great deal, that many bricks are still clay and the house cannot be built.

I have had to destroy my work already begun and rewrite anew the chapters already written, because I have changed my plan entirely; so that the earliest that it can come out will be June or August of next year. I do not lack of patience and may my friends have a little of it also, and we shall march forward.

The news from Galicano has awakened in my mind extremely pleasant ideas. “Now we have a Mother Country, Vermundo,” I repeat here the celebrated verse of Pelayo. Now one can work with more spirit, assured that not all that is sowed is lost. On this I congratulate myself now inasmuch as I have been in a terribly bad humor for days on account of the news from Madrid.

Try to send copies of the Noli me tangere to Manila through any possible means. I believe that the book will do good there. Even if they do not pay for the copies.

Some German doctors of Berlin have just written me today congratulating me on my Noli. This congratulation satisfies my self-love because they are not under obligation to do it. Neither did I give them a copy of the book, nor did I ask them for their opinion. We should not now be vain; I am communicating it to you because I believe that the news will please you.

That you have had little success in journalism does not mean that you are not fit to write. Not all of us are born journalists, nor are literary men all journalists. As for me, the question of writing in more or less literary style is secondary; the principal thing is to think and feel rightly, work with a purpose, and the pen will take care of transmitting it. The principal thing that should be demanded from a Filipino of our generation is not to be a literary man but to be a good man, a good citizen, who would help his country to progress with his head, his heart, and if need be, with his arms. With the head and the heart we ought to work always; with the arms when the time comes. Now the principal instrument of the heart and the head is the pen. Others prefer the brush, others the chisel; I prefer the pen. Now, it does not seem to us that the instrument is the primordial object. Sometimes with a poor one great works can be produced; let the Philippine bolo speak. Sometimes in poor literature great truths can be said.

I am neither immortal nor invulnerable, and my greatest joy will be to see myself eclipsed by a pleiad of fellow countrymen at the hour of my death. If they kill or hang one, at least twenty or thirty would take his place, so that they may go cautiously about killing and hanging us. Many people do not want to kill ants because they say the more they multiply. Why should we not be like ants?

Well, it is true that while one is studying he cannot devote himself to writing because he has no time. Let us wait.

Nothing more for now. Please send me your photograph because I am collecting pictures of the Filipinos.

At your command,

Rizal

02-306 [Blumentritt V.1]