Mr. Sanson.

(Spiritist Society of Paris, April 25, 1862. Medium: Mr. Leymarie. Second conversation. See the Review of May 1862.)

(Summary)

Evoked, Sanson answers, among others, the following questions:

You said that at the moment when the body exhales its last breath, life is severed and the vision of the Spirit is extinguished. Is that moment accompanied by a painful, distressing sensation? Is it more distressing, for example, for the materialist, for one who thinks that everything ends for him at that moment?

The last moments of a hardened unbeliever.

Can you tell us what surprised you and what you saw at the moment when your eyes opened to the light? If possible, describe the aspect of the things that presented themselves to you.

Under what aspect did the Spirits present themselves to you? Under the human form? Do you feel the head, the trunk, the arms and the legs?

The Spirits have no sex. However, since you were a man only a few days ago, in your new state do you have the masculine nature in preference to the feminine? Does the same occur with a Spirit who had left the body a long time ago?

Observation by Allan Kardec on the question of the sex and reproduction of Spirits.

Among the Spirits present here, do you see Saint Louis, our spiritual president? A. He is always at your side, and when he is absent, he always leaves a superior Spirit who substitutes for him. — Do you not see other Spirits? A. Pardon me; the Spirit of Truth, Saint Augustine, Lamennais, Sonnet, Saint Paul, Louis and other friends whom you evoke are always at your sessions.

What aspect does the session present to you?

You said that you read our thought. Could you explain how that transmission operates?

Evocation.

Answer. – My friends, I am beside you.

We are very happy with the conversation we had with you on the day of your burial, and, since you permit it, we shall have the pleasure of completing it, for our instruction.

Answer. – I am ready, happy that you think of me.

All that can enlighten us about the situation of the invisible world and make us understand it is a great teaching, for it is the false idea one forms of it that generally leads to incredulity. Do not be surprised, then, at the questions we may address to you.

Answer. – I shall not be surprised, and I shall attend to your questions.

You described with luminous clarity the passage from life to death; you said that at the moment when the body exhales its last breath, life is severed and the vision of the Spirit is extinguished. Is that moment accompanied by a painful, distressing sensation?

Answer. – Without a doubt, because life is a continuous succession of sufferings and death is the complement of all sufferings; hence a violent rupture, as if the Spirit were obliged to make a superhuman effort to escape from its wrapping. Such an effort, absorbing our whole being, leads us to lose the consciousness of what we shall become.

Observation. – This case is not general. The separation may take place with a certain effort, but experience proves that not all Spirits are conscious of it, for many lose consciousness completely before expiring; the convulsions of the agony are most often purely physical. Mr. Sanson presented a rather rare phenomenon: that of being, so to speak, a witness of his own last breath.

Do you know whether there are Spirits for whom this moment is more painful? Is it more distressing, for example, for the materialist, for one who thinks that everything ends for him at that moment?

Answer. – This is certain, because the prepared Spirit has already forgotten suffering or, rather, has already grown accustomed to it; the quietude with which he sees death prevents him from suffering twice over, since he knows what awaits him. Moral suffering is stronger, and its absence at the instant of death is a great relief. He who does not believe resembles one condemned to capital punishment, whose thought sees the blade and the unknown. There is a likeness between that death and that of the atheist.

Are there materialists hardened enough to believe seriously that at that supreme moment they will be plunged into nothingness?

Answer. – Without a doubt; until the last hour some believe in nothingness. But at the moment of separation the Spirit passes through profound reflections; doubt subdues and tortures him, because he asks himself what he shall become; he wants to cling to something, but cannot. The separation cannot take place without that impression.

Observation. – On another occasion a Spirit gave us the following description of the end of an unbeliever. “In the last moments the hardened unbeliever experiences the anguish of those terrible nightmares in which one sees oneself at the edge of precipices, about to fall into the abyss; he makes useless efforts to flee, but cannot walk; he wants to cling to something, to fasten himself to a point of support, and feels himself slipping; he wants to call someone, but is incapable of articulating the slightest sound; then the dying man writhes, clenches his hands and lets out stifled cries, indisputable signs of the nightmare of which he is the victim. In the ordinary nightmare, the awakening takes you out of the anxiety and you feel happy upon recognizing that you only dreamed, whereas the nightmare of death is often prolonged for a long time, even for years, after the passing; but what makes the sensation still more painful for the Spirit are the shadows in which it sometimes feels itself plunged.” We have even observed several similar cases, which goes to prove that this description is not exaggerated.

You said that at the moment of death you saw nothing, but that you sensed it beforehand. It is understandable that you did not see corporeally; but, before life was extinguished, did you already glimpse the brightness of the world of the Spirits?

Answer. – That is what I said before; the instant of death gives clairvoyance to the Spirit; the eyes see no more, but the Spirit, which possesses a far more profound vision, instantly discovers an unknown world, and the truth appears to it suddenly, giving it, even if momentarily, either a profound joy or an inexpressible sorrow, according to the state of its conscience and the remembrance of its past life. Observation. – This concerns the instant that precedes the one in which the Spirit loses consciousness, which explains the use of the word momentarily, because the same impressions, agreeable or painful, continue upon awakening.

Can you tell us what surprised you and what you saw at the moment when your eyes opened to the light? If possible, describe the aspect of the things that presented themselves to you.

Answer. – When I was able to come back to myself and see what was before my eyes, I was as if dazzled and did not take much account of it, for lucidity does not return instantaneously. But God, who profoundly bore witness to His goodness toward me, permitted me to recover my faculties. I found myself surrounded by numerous and faithful friends. All the protecting Spirits who come to assist us were around me and smiled; an unequaled happiness animated them, and I myself, strong and well disposed, could transport myself through space without effort. What I saw has no name in human language. Moreover, I shall come to speak more amply of all my happiness, without exceeding, however, the limit required by God. Know that happiness, such as you understand it, is a fiction. Live wisely, holily, in the spirit of charity and of love, and you will be prepared for impressions that your greatest poets could not describe.

Observation. – No doubt the fairy tales are full of absurd things; but would they not correspond, on some points, to the picture of what takes place in the world of the Spirits? Does Mr. Sanson's description not resemble that of the man who, having fallen asleep in a poor and obscure hut, were to awaken in a splendid palace, in the midst of a brilliant court?

(THIRD CONVERSATION, MAY 2, 1862.)

Under what aspect did the Spirits present themselves to you? Under the human form?

Answer. – Yes, my dear friend. The Spirits had taught us on Earth that in the other world they preserved the transitory form they had had in yours; and it is true. But what a difference between the shapeless machine, which drags itself along painfully with its train of trials, and the marvelous fluidity of the body of the Spirits! Ugliness no longer exists, because the features have lost the hardness of expression that forms the distinctive character of the human race. God has beatified all those graceful bodies, which move with all the elegance of form; their language, for you, has untranslatable intonations, and their gaze has the depth of a star. Seek, through thought, to see what God can do in His omnipotence, He, the architect of architects, and you will have formed a pale idea of the form of the Spirits.

For you, how do you see? Do you recognize yourself with a limited, circumscribed form, although fluidic? Do you feel the head, the trunk, the arms and the legs?

Answer. – Having preserved the human form, but divinized, idealized, the Spirit incontestably has all the members of which you speak. I feel the legs and the fingers perfectly, because we can, at will, appear to you and press your hand. I am beside you and I have pressed the hand of all my friends, without their having been conscious of it, because our fluidity can be everywhere, without obstructing space, without causing any sensation, if this be our desire. At this moment you have your hands crossed and mine are in yours. I say to you all: I love you, but my body occupies no place; light passes through it and, what you would call a miracle, were it to become visible, is for the Spirits an uninterrupted action. The vision of the Spirits has no relation to human vision, just as the body has no real resemblance, because everything has changed in its whole and in its substance. I repeat that the Spirit has a divine perspicacity that extends to all things, since it can divine even your thoughts; thus it can suitably take the form that best recalls it to your remembrance. But, in truth, the superior Spirit, who has finished its trials, prefers the form that led it to God.

The Spirits have no sex. However, since you were a man only a few days ago, in your new state do you have the masculine nature in preference to the feminine? Does the same occur with a Spirit who had left the body a long time ago?

Answer. – We do not hold to the masculine or feminine nature: the Spirits do not reproduce. God created them by His will, and if, in His marvelous vision, He willed that the Spirits should reincarnate on Earth, He had to establish the reproduction of the species for the male and the female. But you sense, without any need of explanation, that the Spirits cannot have sex.

Observation. – It has always been said that the Spirits have no sex; the sexes are necessary only for the reproduction of bodies; as the Spirits do not reproduce, sex would be useless to them. Our question did not aim to establish the fact, but, because of the very recent death of Mr. Sanson, we wished to know whether there remained to him an impression of his terrestrial state. Purified Spirits perfectly account for their nature; but among the inferior Spirits, not dematerialized, many still judge themselves to be as they were on Earth, preserving the same passions and the same desires. These still believe themselves men or women, and for this reason some have said that the Spirits have sex. It is thus that certain contradictions proceed from the more or less advanced state of the Spirits who communicate; the error is not the Spirits', but that of those who interrogate them and do not take the trouble to go deeply into the question.

Among the Spirits present here, do you see Saint Louis, our spiritual president?

Answer. – He is always at your side, and when he is absent, he always leaves a superior Spirit who substitutes for him.

Do you not see other Spirits?

Answer. – Pardon me; the Spirit of Truth, Saint Augustine, Lamennais, Sonnet, Saint Paul, Louis and other friends whom you evoke are always at your sessions.

What aspect does the session present to you? With your new vision, does it present itself to you as you saw it in life? Do the persons have the same appearance? Is everything as clear and as distinct?

Answer. – Much clearer, because I can read the thought of everyone; and I feel very happy at the agreeable impression left by the goodwill of all the Spirits gathered. I desire that the same understanding be reached not only in Paris, through the union of all the groups, but also throughout all France, where the groups separate and envy one another, impelled by bungling Spirits who delight in disorder, whereas Spiritism ought to be the complete, absolute forgetting of the self.

You said that you read our thought. Could you explain how that transmission operates?

Answer. – This is not easy. To tell you, to explain to you this singular prodigy of the vision of the Spirits, it would be necessary to open to you a whole arsenal of new agents, and you would be as wise as we, which is not possible, because your faculties are limited by matter. Patience! Become good and you will arrive. You presently have only what God grants you; nevertheless, with the hope of progressing continually, later you will be as we are. Strive, then, to die, in order to know much. Curiosity, which is the stimulant of the intelligent man, leads you tranquilly to death, reserving for you the satisfaction of all curiosities past, present and future. While you wait, I shall tell you, answering your question well or ill: The air that surrounds you, impalpable as we are, bears the character of your thought; the breath you exhale is, so to speak, the written page of your thoughts; they are read and commented upon by the Spirits who incessantly press close to you; they are the messengers of a divine telegraphy from which nothing escapes.

You see, my dear Mr. Sanson, that we have made wide use of the permission you gave us to perform your spiritual necropsy. We shall not abuse it; another time, if you wish, we shall ask questions of another order.

Answer. – I shall always feel very happy to make myself useful to my former colleagues and to their worthy president.