The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER VIII 55
He met many carriages, drawn by beautiful pairs of dwarfish ponies, within which were government clerks
who seemed yet half asleep as they made their way to their offices, or military officers, or Chinese in foolish
and ridiculous attitudes, or Gave friars and canons. In an elegant victoria he thought he recognized Padre
Damaso, grave and frowning, but he had already passed. Now he was pleasantly greeted by Capitan Tinong,
who was passing in a carretela with his wife and two daughters.
As they went down off the bridge the horses broke into a trot along the Sabana Drive. [47] On the left the
Arroceros Cigar Factory resounded with the noise of the cigar-makers pounding the tobacco leaves, and Ibarra
was unable to restrain a smile as he thought of the strong odor which about five o'clock in the afternoon used
to float all over the Puente de Barcas and which had made him sick when he was a child. The lively
conversations and the repartee of the crowds from the cigar factories carried him back to the district of
Lavapiés in Madrid, with its riots of cigar-makers, so fatal for the unfortunate policemen.
The Botanical Garden drove away these agreeable recollections; the demon of comparison brought before his
mind the Botanical Gardens of Europe, in countries where great, labor and much money are needed to make a
single leaf grow or one flower open its calyx; he recalled those of the colonies, where they are well supplied
and tended, and all open to the public. Ibarra turned away his gaze toward the old Manila surrounded still by
its walls and moats like a sickly girl wrapped in the garments of her grandmother's better days.
Then the sight of the sea losing itself in the distance! "On the other shore lies Europe," thought the young
man,--"Europe, with its attractive peoples in constant movement in the search for happiness, weaving their
dreams in the morning and disillusioning themselves at the setting of the sun, happy even in the midst of their
calamities. Yes, on the farther shore of the boundless sea are the really spiritual nations, those who, even
though they put no restraints on material development, are still more spiritual than those who pride themselves
on adoring only the spirit!"
But these musings were in turn banished from his mind as he came in sight of the little mound in Bagumbayan
Field. [48] This isolated knoll at the side of the Luneta now caught his attention and made him reminiscent.
He thought of the man who had awakened his intellect and made him understand goodness and justice. The
ideas which that man had impressed upon him were not many, to be sure, but they were not meaningless
repetitions, they were convictions which had not paled in the light of the most brilliant foci of progress. That
man was an old priest whose words of farewell still resounded in his ears: "Do not forget that if knowledge is
the heritage of mankind, it is only the courageous who inherit it," he had reminded him. "I have tried to pass
on to you what I got from my teachers, the sum of which I have endeavored to increase and transmit to the
coming generation as far as in me lay. You will now do the same for those who come after you, and you can
treble it, since you are going to rich countries." Then he had added with a smile, "They come here seeking
wealth, go you to their country to seek also that other wealth which we lack! But remember that all that
glitters is not gold." The old man had died on that spot.
At these recollections the youth murmured audibly: "No, in spite of everything, the fatherland first, first the
Philippines, the child of Spain, first the Spanish fatherland! No, that which is decreed by fate does not tarnish
the honor of the fatherland, no!"
He gave little heed to Ermita, the phenix of nipa that had rearisen from its ashes under the form of blue and
white houses with red-painted roofs of corrugated iron. Nor was his attention caught by Malate, neither by the
cavalry barracks with the spreading trees in front, nor by the inhabitants or their little nipa huts, pyramidal or
prismatic in shape, hidden away among the banana plants and areca palms, constructed like nests by each
father of a family.
The carriage continued on its way, meeting now and then carromatas drawn by one or two ponies whose
abaka harness indicated that they were from the country. The drivers would try to catch a glimpse of the
occupant of the fine carriage, but would pass on without exchanging a word, without a single salute. At times