An egoist.

— On January 10, 1865, one of our correspondents in Lyon conveyed to us the following account:

In a neighboring locality, we knew an individual whose name we omit, so as not to be slanderous and because the name has nothing to do with the fact. He was a Spiritist and, under the sway of that belief, he improved, although he had not profited from it as much as he could have done, given his intelligence. He lived with an old aunt, who loved him like a son, and who spared neither labors nor sacrifices for her dear nephew. Out of economy it was the good woman who took care of the house. So far all very natural; what was less so is that the nephew, young and in good shape, let her do work beyond her strength, without it ever occurring to him to spare her marches painful for her age, the carrying of bundles and similar things. In the house he would not move a piece of furniture from its place, as if he had servants at his orders; and even if he foresaw some painful exceptional task, he would arrange a pretext to abstain, fearful that they might ask of him a help that he could not refuse. Yet he had received several lessons in this regard, one might say affronts, capable of making a man of heart reflect; but he was insensible. One day when the aunt was exhausting herself splitting firewood, there he was sitting, calmly smoking his pipe. A neighbor came in and, seeing this, cast a glance of contempt upon the young man and said: “This is work for a man, and not for a woman.” Then, taking the axe, he set about splitting the firewood, while the other looked on. He was esteemed as a decent man of good conduct, but because his character had neither gentleness nor perseverance, he was not appreciated, and the majority of his friends had drawn away. We, Spiritists, were distressed by this hardness of heart and said that one day he would pay very dearly for it. The prediction was realized recently. I must say that, in consequence of the efforts she made, the old lady was stricken with a very serious hernia, which made her suffer greatly, but which she had the courage not to lament. During these recent cold spells, probably wishing to evade a painful task, the nephew went out early and did not return. As he was crossing a bridge, he was struck by the fall of a vehicle and dragged down a slope; he died two hours later.

When we were informed of the fact, we wished to evoke him, and here is what was answered to us by one of our guides:

— “He whom you wish to call will not be able to communicate for some time. I come to answer for him and to tell you what you wish to know; later he will confirm it to you. At this moment he is greatly disturbed by the thoughts that agitate him. He sees his aunt and the illness she contracted in consequence of bodily fatigues and of which she will die. It is this that torments him, for he considers himself her murderer. And so he is, indeed, since he could have spared her the labor that will be the cause of her death. For him it is a poignant remorse that will pursue him for a long time, until he has repaired his fault. He would like to do so; he does not leave his aunt, but his efforts are useless, and so he despairs. It is necessary, for his punishment, that he see her die because of his egoistic negligence, for his conduct is a variety of egoism. Pray for him, so that he may keep the repentance which later will save him.”

[Study on human conduct.]

Q. – Could our dear guide tell us whether other defects of which he corrected himself on account of Spiritism will not be taken into account for him, and whether his position has not been softened?

Answer. – Without any doubt, that improvement is taken into account for him, for nothing escapes the searching gaze of divine Providence. But here is in what manner each good or bad action has its natural, inevitable consequences, according to these words of Christ: “To each one according to his works.” He who has corrected himself of some faults spares himself the punishment that they would have entailed and, on the contrary, receives the reward of the qualities that replaced them; but he cannot escape the consequences of the defects that still remained. Thus, he is punished only in proportion to and according to the gravity of the latter; the fewer he has of them, the better his position. A quality does not redeem a defect; it diminishes the number of these and, consequently, the sum of the punishments.

The defects of which one corrects oneself first are the easiest to be extirpated, and the one of which one frees oneself with most difficulty is egoism. People think they have done enough because they have moderated the violence of their character, resigned themselves to their lot, or rid themselves of some bad habits; no doubt that is something that profits them, but it does not exempt them from paying the tribute of purification for the rest.

My friends, egoism is what one sees best in others, because we feel its repercussion and because the egoist wounds us; but the egoist finds in himself his own satisfaction, which is why he does not perceive it. Egoism is always a proof of dryness of heart; it withers sensibility to the sufferings of others. The man of heart, on the contrary, feels that suffering and is moved by it; this is why he sacrifices himself to spare or to mitigate it in others, because he would like them to do the same for him. Thus, he is happy when he avoids a sorrow or a suffering for someone; having identified himself with the misfortune of his fellow being, he experiences a real relief when the misfortune no longer exists. Count on his gratitude if you render him a service; but from the egoist expect only ingratitude; gratitude in words costs him nothing, but in action it would tire him and disturb his repose. He acts for another only when forced, and never spontaneously; his attachment is in proportion to the good he expects from people, and this sometimes in spite of himself. The young man of whom we have spoken certainly loved his aunt and would have rebelled had one told him the contrary; nonetheless, his affection did not reach the point of tiring himself for her; on his part it was not a premeditated design, but an instinctive repulsion, a consequence of his innate egoism. The light that he had not known how to find in life now appears to him, and he regrets not having better profited from the teachings that he received. Pray for him. Egoism is the gnawing worm of society; it is, more or less, that of each one of you. Soon I will give you a dissertation, in which it will be regarded under its diverse shades; it will be a mirror; look at it carefully, to see whether you do not perceive in some corner a reflection of your own personality.

Your spiritual guide.