Moral study
One can read in the Siècle from October 12th, 1864:
“In a horrible shanty at the passage of St. Pierre, in Clichy, there was a man called Louis-Henri, a sixty four year old that looked like ninety. He had fallen to the last level of the social echelon. People say that before he had been handsome and flamboyant; that he had disturbed many female’s heads and that he had led an agitated life. In fact sometimes he spoke in a way that reminded the refined society and in his house one could see two delicious miniatures representing charming women. The frame of those medallions had been sold long ago and the painting itself was too faded to be of any use. Louis-Henri was a ragman but he was so weak, so broken and frail that he was collecting almost nothing. With the rags on he slept on filthy things that were used as his bed. Other ragmen and almost as poor as him used to chip in to give him some food such as breadcrumbs and leftovers from kitchens that they would have in their baskets. He was covered in ulcers and worms. According to the Opinion Nationale the soldiers from the brigade of Clichy had several times collected money among them to pay for him to have sulphurous baths. He had forgotten his own name and did not know what had happened to his family. The only thing he remembered was the first name Louis-Henri. The leper, as he was called, had not been seen for some days. A terrible smile exhaled from his dwelling, catching the attention of the owners. The police was informed and together with Dr. Massart they came to the place with a locksmith to break in. They found the remains of the ragman among other filthy things, bitten by rats and in decomposition, having died from his sickness and late diseases.”
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It is a said turnaround of fortune and a proof that God’s justice not always waits for a future life to reach the offender. We say offender hypothetically because such a state of degradation cannot be the result but of a vices in their highest degree. The richest and best placed person may fall to the lowest social level but if honor was not abated in the deepest misery he keeps his dignity. Assuming that the life of that man could offer some teaching the Parisian Society resolved that he should be evoked in hopes that it would be at least useful.
Parisian Society, July 28th, 1864 – medium Mr. Vézy
Q. – The details that we read about your life and death seemed of interest first to yourself because all of those that suffer deserve our prayers and second to the benefit of our own instruction. From a moral point of view it would be useful to know how and why you fell into such abjection from a life that seemed to have been brilliant and what is your current situation. We beg a good Spirit to assist you in your communication with us. A. – Haven’t I pay enough during my life of sufferings on Earth to have a couple of hours of lucidity in the beyond the grave? Is my Spirit disturbed because of the worm infected and bitten body? Allow me to recognize myself a bit. I do not need to explain why I have fallen into such disgusting state to you that know the laws of migration of the soul. However, since I am ordered to do that, I will tell you my story… In fact an anecdote will do you good amidst your wise discussions and argumentations. You have an audience here and this will entertain them more than your moral and philosophy. Let us begin then.
Observation: On that day the Society had a general session in which a few strange individuals are admitted. That is what the Spirit makes reference to.
“Why wouldn’t I tell you the name I used and that in my final years, in particular, I had forgotten myself? Haven’t you guessed that the swamp that devoured me was the only cause of my silence about it? I pretended to have forgotten. I remember… but no. I do want to spill filth upon the tuxedos and the silky and velvet dresses of those that were my relatives and friends, with whom I lived in my youth and they still live. I also do not want to see some old ladies that changed from the hairdresser to the oratory to see the medallion that they used to have hanging above their alcove, hidden under the clothes of a gallant and kind gentleman, the miserable abandoned one. To some of them I died in America during the wars that followed the stand up of their peoples; to others I was the last to die in the bloody skirmishes of Vendée, screaming: Save the King! Let us not touch on those laurels on which my heart rests! I have died to them long ago! I also died for her! Ah Let us not talk about that any more… Yes, to you I am very dead! Dead for eternity! However how many hours of ecstasy and intoxication haven’t we spent together? How many times your eyes met mine, my smiles your smile! You still live to show me your wrinkles and your white hair. But when death finally reaches you I will see you no more! No, no! Damn it! I hear voices that shout: Damn it! No, I will not see her again… To hear light and shine, to me night and darkness! I removed the wings of the angel on Earth but her tears will return her purity and God’s forgiveness will present her with the wings of seraphim.
Ah! Why the youth plays with one’s heart like that? Why picking every flower on the way and having them below your feet later? However, when one’s heart speaks the language of the soul to the other soul it is not lying. Why is it necessary that the breath of impure passions rot your body, throwing it into abjection? Let me drop my tears... they are soothing to those that suffer!
How much I would like to live again my life of former times to live better my hours of youth! Oh how much I would like to have my heart again when I was in my twenties! I would give it all to a twin heart. I would give my soul entirely to a sister soul and would ask God to allow us to enjoy the pleasantries of heaven! But it is done. Why my tears and my sorrow? Degraded man, what is your dream? Everything is lost to the one that could not enjoy what was given to him! Everything is lost to the miserable one that did not know how to employ the qualities that he had! Ah all of you that hear me, yes the one that speaks to you was gifted with beautiful faculties. What for? To deceive with astuteness and knowledge of cause! To commit crimes! I then muffled remorse in the orgies, blocking the screams of my conscience. I was a kind man; I handled the word and the sword with audacity and if the women called me a refined man, while caressing my head and my hair in their dressing room, men called me invincible and brave! Pride! Why such memories of those days? Disgrace… Damnation! I see blood around me! Why hasn’t this sword with which I hurt others, why hasn’t it turned against my own chest? Among the dead, do you see this cadaver? It is my son! Oh irony! That is the consequence of the culture of a society in which people laugh at everything. I was the guilty one did I know that it was my son? Did I know that the lover that was abandoned twenty years ago would throw on my path an adulterous fruit that I did not recognize and that would come to fight for a prey with the new D. Juan? And you wanted me not to have forgotten my name after so many mistakes? Ah to me the cup of shame and ignominy! I should have died as I did, in mud. I feel the cold of the tomb! I feel the worms biting me! I feel the filthy coverings! I feel the ulcers around my body! If your father did not give you a name, he erased your world; if he gave you death, he also died in mud. Ah! Open your arms to me! Teaches your father the path to God through forgiveness. What a dismal story! I believed that by taking his hand I would meet the smiles of former times! Attractive! Is it the environment where I am now that penetrates and transforms me? Why have you evoked me? Why have you brought me from darkness to some light and will throw me in darkness again? It is my time to interrogate you. Answer me!
Q. – We called you because we have pity on your suffering and because we want to be useful to you. What can we do for you? A. – Ah, what do I know? It is up to you to enlighten me. Do not throw me back into obscurity… You brought the dead back. I see them in darkness. I am afraid!
Q. – We will pray for you. A. – Ah pray. They say that the prayer is very good to those in suffering.
Q. – Would you like to sign your name? No, no. Pray for me.
A few days later another medium, Mr. Rul from Passy, carried out a private evocation of the same Spirit and obtained the following three communications. We considered superfluous to reproduce the advices given by the medium to the Spirit. Those are of one sincere Spiritist, moved by the true charity towards his brothers in suffering.
II. Yes, pray for me because the prayers of your brothers have already helped me. If you only knew the suffering of a discarnate! If you could read in my spiritual face the traces of the passions that deformed it, you would be taken by pity and your fraternal hand, holding mine, would feel the fever that agitates me. How much I suffer since I was evoked by your President! I know the divine justice. Alone, wandering around the dead I believed to be the only one to be aware of my sufferings and here I am, at the height of publicity, called to make confession of my mistakes! Ah how many mistakes I made because of passions! I did not tell your brother everything because I was stopped by shame; I preferred to hide my confessions and erase these indelible characters that placed me in the pillory of your consciences. But they prayed for me and today I acknowledge the good your charitable hearts did to me and to better deserve your compassion, because you are Spiritists, meaning indulgent and compassionate, I accuse myself for not having stepped back before any fault in order to satisfy my passions. I did not commit any crime punishable by human laws but the vices that your society tolerates and excuses, particularly when one has a name and fortune, those are condemned by God that never let them go unpunished. I atoned them cruelly on Earth; I fell onto the last degree of misery, of degradation and neglect, me that in other times was shiny and reason for envy and jealousy; the punishment chased me beyond the grave. I did not murder like a vile assassin; I did not steal because my pride would cause me to revolt to the simple thought of being confused with criminals. I nonetheless killed but to defend my honor according to the world. I led families to ruin, shame and despair, and I was called the happy and lucky one! How many victims cry for vengeance around me! Ah for how long will I bear the burden of those crimes! Pray for me since I suffer to the point of feeling my soul breaking apart… Thank you, thank you dear brother. I want to call you like you do to me; I thank you for your tears that brought me relief; I thank you for your prayers that have attracted to me Spirits full of glory that tell me: Wait, you that failed so miserably; wait for the mercy of God that forgives all creatures that regret. Persevere in your good resolutions and you shall be stronger to withstand your sufferings. Thank you for taking me from the fog that surrounded me. I hope I can one day demonstrate to you that the recognition of your brother is forever!
III. Remorse chases me; I suffer a lot but I understand the need to suffer; I understand that impurity can only become purity after its transformation by fire. The good Spirits ask me to wait; that I pray and I prayed but I need a friend that reaches out to me to help me out and do not allow me to succumb under this heavy burden. Be such a charitable and devout friend to me. I will hear your advices; I will pray with you; I shall prostrate with you to the feet of the Almighty. How many times have I seen my sword stained in the blood of one of my brothers! I was merciless in my vengeance and when exalted by flesh, vanity, and the desire that execute it upon my rivals I sought victory at any price. Sad victory, stained by the lowest passions! I was cruel when driven by pride. Yes, I was a huge sinner but I want to become a child of the Lord and for that I came to tell you: Be my friend to help me out in purification. Brother, let us pray together.
IV. Thank you, thank you brother. I am under the impression of the words that you have just said. I feel stronger; I see the objective and without measuring the distance that separates me from that I say to myself: I will do it, because I want and because I trust the good Spirits that ask me to wait. When I did bad things on Earth I did not doubt success. How could I doubt now when I want to do good? Thank you brother for your charity, for your good prayers, for your teachings, because I feel that I gain strength and I feel my regret grow. If regret doubles the suffering I know that it is going to last only sometime and that happiness waits for me after depuration. I then want to suffer, suffer a lot to soon deserve the happiness that the radiant Spirits that I see near you experience. So long, brother, since I see that you have another suffering Spirit to console and strengthen in his regret. Think of me and during your nightly prayer I will be near you.
