In order to receive these communications, a man must possess a pure and noble mind, and he must have preserved the cultus of those whom he has lost. A mother who has been indifferent to her child during his life, or has forgotten him after his death, cannot expect to receive secret manifestations from him for whom she has felt but little tenderness. The friend from whose heart the image of the friend removed by death has been effaced, must renounce such priceless manifestations. The man who is abandoned to low and vicious instincts and perverse inclinations, must not flatter himself, however faithfully he may have preserved the memory of the dead, that these messages shall come to him. A pure and noble creature only can communicate with these privileged beings.
There exists in our hearts a moral force which no philosophy has been able to explain, which no science has been able to analyze, which is called conscience. Conscience is a sacred light burning within us, which nothing can obstruct, obscure, or extinguish, and which has the power of giving us sure and certain enlightenment on every occasion in our lives. Conscience is infallible. Notwithstanding everything, in spite of our real or apparent interest, at all times, and in all places, speaking to the great and the small alike, to the powerful and to the weak, it always teaches to discern good from evil, the honest from the dishonest way. In our belief, conscience is the impression transmitted to us by a beloved being, snatched from us by death. It is a relative, a friend, who has left the earth, and who deigns to reveal himself to us, that he may guide us in our actions, trace out the path of safety for us, and labour for our good. Cowardly, perverse, base, and lying men exist, of whom we say that they have no conscience. They do not know how to distinguish good from evil; they are entirely wanting in moral sense. It is because they have never loved any one, and their souls, base and vile, are not worthy to be visited by any of those superior beings, who only manifest themselves to men who resemble them, or who have loved them. A man without a conscience is, then, one who is rendered unworthy, by the vicious essence of his soul, of the lofty counsels and the protection of those who are no more.
Our readers will have perceived that this idea of a supreme and invisible protector of man, who guides his heart, and enlightens his reason, has already been formulated by the Christian religion, which has derived it from Holy Scripture. It is the Guardian Angel, a mysterious and poetic type, a seraphic creature, whom God has charged to watch over the Christian, to guard him against snares, and constantly to direct him to the ways of sanctity and virtue. We observe this argument without having sought it. In short, we register our ideas as they deduce themselves logically from each other, without any bias. And when we find ourselves led into agreement with a dogma of the Christian religion, we note that concord with pleasure.
We would ask those persons who have read these pages to question themselves, to summon up their recollections, to reflect upon what has passed around them, and we are convinced that they will discover many facts in harmony with what we advance. The moral phenomenon of the impressions made by the dead on the mind of the living who have loved them, and who keep up the cultus of their memory, is one of those truths which every one holds by intuition, and whose entire verity he acknowledges when he finds it curtly formulated and put forward. We will not give our readers second-hand information by invoking facts of this kind which they may know; we can only recall a few which came under our observation, briefly, as follows:
One of our friends, an Italian Count, B——, lost his mother nearly forty years ago. He has assured us that he has been in communication with her every day since, without intermission. He adds that he owes the wise ordering of his life, his labours, his career, and the good fortune which has always accompanied his enterprizes, to the constant influence and secret counsels of his mother.
Dr. V——, a professed materialist, one who, according to the popular phrase, believes in nothing, believes, nevertheless, in his mother. Like Count B——, he lost her early, and has never ceased to feel her presence. He told us that he is more frequently with his dead mother, than he used to be when she was living. This professed apostle of medical materialism has, without being aware of it, conversations with an emancipated soul.
A celebrated journalist, M. R——, lost a son, twenty years of age, a charming, gentle youth, a writer, and a poet. Every day M. R—— has an intimate conversation with this son. A quarter of an hour of solitary recollection admits him to direct communication with the beloved being snatched away from his love.
M. L——, a barrister, maintains constant relations with a sister who, when living, possessed, according to him, every human perfection, and who never fails to guide her brother in every difficulty of his life, great or small.
Another consideration suggests itself in support of the idea which occupies us at present. It has been remarked that artists, writers, and thinkers, after the loss of one beloved, have found their faculties, talents, and inspirations increased. We might surmise that the intellectual faculties of those whom they have loved have been added to their own. I know a financier who is remarkable for his business capacities. When he finds himself in a difficulty, he stops, without troubling himself to seek for its solution. He waits, knowing that the missing idea will come to him spontaneously, and, sometimes after days, sometimes after hours, the idea comes, just as he has expected. This happy and successful man has experienced one of the deepest sorrows the heart can know; he has lost an only son, aged eighteen years, and endowed with all the qualities of maturity, combined with the graces of youth. Our readers may draw the conclusion for themselves.
This last example may instruct us concerning a peculiarity of the superior manifestations which we are studying. We have just said that sometimes a certain time, some days for instance, are required for the production of the manifestations. The cause of this is that the superhuman being, to whom they are due, has much difficulty in putting himself in relation with the inhabitants of our globe. There are many beings on the earth whom he loves, and whom he would fain protect, and he cannot be in two different places at the same time. We may even suppose that the difficulties which human beings feel in putting themselves in relation with us, added to the spectacle of the sufferings and misfortunes which overwhelm their friends here below, are the causes of the only sorrows which trouble their existence, so marvellously happy in other respects. Absolute happiness exists nowhere in the world, and destiny has the power to let fall one drop of gall into the cup of happiness quaffed by the dwellers in ether, in their celestial abode.