Example 3 - SAMUEL FILIPE.

— This was a man of goodness in the true sense of the word. No one could recall having seen him commit a bad action or willingly err in anything whatsoever. Of an extreme devotion toward his friends, one could count as certain his welcome, whenever any favors were concerned, even those contrary to his own interest.

Labors, fatigues, sacrifices, nothing prevented him from being useful, and this without ostentation, being astonished when a great merit was attributed to him for these qualities. He never despised those who did him wrong; rather, he hastened to serve them as if they had done him a like good.

As for the ungrateful, he would say: It is not I, but they who are to be pitied.

Although very intelligent and endowed with natural vivacity, he had on Earth an obscure, laborious life, embroidered with harsh trials. He could be compared to those select natures who live in the shadow, of whom the world does not speak and whose brilliance is not reflected on Earth.

He had drawn from the knowledge of Spiritism an ardent faith in the future life and a great resignation toward all the ills of earthly existence.

Finally, he died in December 1862, at the age of 50, of a terrible illness, his passing being deeply felt by his family and friends. We evoked him a few months after his decease.

Have you a clear recollection of the last moments of life on Earth? — A. “Perfectly, although that recollection reappeared gradually. At the precise instant of detachment my ideas were confused.

Would you, for the sake of our instruction and of the interest your exemplary life deserves from us, describe how your passage from corporeal life to spiritual life occurred? — A. Gladly, all the more so since the narrative will profit not only you, but myself as well, for, directing my thought toward Earth, the comparison makes me appreciate better the goodness of the Creator.

You know what tribulations I tasted in life; nevertheless, courage never failed me in adversity, thanks to God! And today, I congratulate myself! And I still tremble to think that everything I suffered would be annulled were I to falter, having to begin the trials anew! Oh! my friends, become firmly imbued with this truth, for in it resides the happiness of your future. It is surely not buying this happiness too dearly with a few years of suffering! Ah! If you knew what a few years are compared to the infinite!

If indeed my last existence had some merit in your eyes, you would not say as much of those that preceded it. And it was only by dint of work upon myself that I became what I now am. To erase the last traces of my former faults, I had to suffer the last trials that I voluntarily accepted. It was in the firmness of my resolutions that I shielded my resignation, in order to suffer without complaining. Today I bless those trials, for to them I owe having broken with the past — a mere recollection now that allows me to contemplate with legitimate joy the path traveled.

“Oh! you who made me suffer on Earth; who were cruel and malevolent toward me, who humiliated and afflicted me: you, whose bad faith so many times brought me harsh privations, not only do I forgive you but I even thank you. In intending to do harm, you did not suspect the good that this harm would procure me. It is true, therefore, that to you I owe a great part of the happiness I enjoy, since you afforded me the occasion to forgive and to repay evil with good. God placed you in my path to test my patience, exercising me likewise in the practice of the most difficult charity: that of loving one’s enemies.

“Do not grow impatient with this digression, for I shall now answer your question.

“Although I suffered cruelly from the illness that struck me, I had almost no agony: death came upon me like a sleep, without struggles or shocks.

Without fear for the future, I did not cling to life and consequently did not have to struggle in the last moments. The separation was completed without pain or effort, without my even being aware of it.

I do not know how long the sleep lasted, which was short, however. My calm awakening contrasted with the preceding state: I felt pains no more and exulted with joy; I wished to rise, to walk, but a torpor by no means disagreeable, rather delightful, held me, and I abandoned myself to it pleasurably, without understanding my situation, although I did not doubt that I had already left Earth.

Everything around me was as if it were a dream. I saw my wife and some friends kneeling in my room, weeping, and I considered to myself that they thought me dead. I then wished to disabuse them of such an idea, but I could not utter a word, and from this I concluded that I was dreaming. The fact of seeing myself surrounded by dear persons, long deceased, and also by others whom at first sight I could not recognize, strengthened in me this idea of a dream, in which such beings watched over me.

“This state alternated with moments of lucidity and of drowsiness, during which I recovered and lost the consciousness of my self. Little by little my ideas acquired more lucidity, the light that I glimpsed, through dense fog, became brilliant; and I began to understand myself, to recognize myself, understanding and recognizing that I no longer belonged to that world.

Certainly, had I not known Spiritism, the illusion would have lasted much longer.

My material envelope was not yet interred and I looked upon it with pity, congratulating myself on the separation, on the liberty. For how happy I was to have at last freed myself!

I breathed freely like one who emerges from a nauseating atmosphere; an indescribable sensation of well-being penetrated my whole being, the presence of those I had loved gladdened me without surprising me, rather seeming natural to me, as if I met them after a long journey.

One thing astonished me at once: our understanding one another without uttering a word! Our thoughts were transmitted by the gaze alone, as if by the effect of a fluidic penetration.

“I was not, however, completely free of earthly preoccupations, and, as if to set off the new situation all the more, the memory of what I had suffered came to my mind from time to time.

I had suffered corporeally and morally, above all morally, as the target I was of slander, of those infinite preoccupations more bitter perhaps than real misfortunes, when they degenerated into perpetual anxiety.

And scarcely had such impressions vanished when I asked myself whether I had indeed freed myself of them, seeming to me still to hear certain disagreeable voices. Reconsidering the difficulties that so much and so often tormented me, I trembled; and I sought, so to speak, to recognize myself, to assure myself that all of that was nothing but a fantastic dream. And when I arrived at the conclusion, at the reality of that new situation, it was as if a huge weight were lifted from me.

It is quite true, I said, that I am free of those cares that make the torment of life! Thanks be to God! Likewise the poor man, suddenly enriched, doubts the reality of his fortune and entertains for some time the apprehensions of poverty. So was I.

Ah! could men but understand the future life, and what strength, what courage this conviction would give them in adversity.

Who then, on Earth, would fail to provide for and assure himself of the happiness that God reserves for his docile and submissive children? Coveted, envied delights would become paltry in relation to those they disdain!”

Has that world so new and compared to which our own is worth nothing, as well as the numerous friends you found again there, made you forget your family and friends who are incarnate? — A. Had I forgotten them I would be unworthy of the happiness I enjoy. God does not reward egoism, He punishes it.

The world in which I find myself may cause me to disdain Earth, but not the Spirits incarnate upon it.

Only among men does prosperity cause one to forget the companions of misfortune.

Many times I come to visit those who are dear to me, exulting in the recollection they have kept of me; I attend their amusements, and, drawn by their thoughts, I rejoice if they rejoice or suffer if they suffer. My suffering is, however, relative and cannot be compared to human suffering, since I understand the scope, the necessity, and the transitory character of the trials.

This suffering is, moreover, softened by the conviction that those whom I love will also come in their turn to this fortunate dwelling where pain does not exist. To make them worthy of it, of that dwelling, I strive to suggest to them good thoughts and above all the resignation that I had, in keeping with the will of God.

My desolation grows when I see them delay its advent through lack of courage, murmurings, hesitations, and above all through any reprehensible act. I then try to turn them from the bad path, and, if I succeed, that is a happiness not only for me, but for other Spirits; when, on the contrary, the intervention is fruitless, I exclaim with regret: Another moment of delay; but I am consoled by the idea that nothing is irremediably lost.”