Anniversaries.

There is among all the men of the modern world a custom worthy of praise, without the least doubt, which, by the force of things, will soon be seen transformed into a norm. I wish to speak of anniversaries and centenaries!

A date celebrated in the History of Humanity, whether for a glorious conquest of the human spirit, or for the birth or death of illustrious benefactors, whose name is inscribed in indelible characters in the great book of immortality, a celebrated date, as I said, comes each year to remind all that only those who labored to improve the lot of their brothers have a right to all respect, to all veneration. The bloody dates are lost in the night of time, and if at times we still recall with pride the victories of a great warrior, it is with profound emotion that we remember those who sought, by means of more peaceful arms, to bring down the barriers that separate nationalities. This is good, it is worthy, but is it sufficient? Humanity sanctifies its great men; it does so with justice, and its sentences, heard by the divine tribunal, are without appeal, because it was the universal conscience that pronounced them. People: admiration, respect, sympathy move your heart, animate your spirit, excite your courage, but still more is necessary. It is necessary that the emotion you experience find an echo in all the great Spirits who attend, invisible and moved, the evocation of their generous actions; it is necessary that these latter recognize disciples and emulators among those who bring their past back to life. Remember! the memory of the heart is the seal of progressive Spirits, called to the baptism of regeneration; but prove that you understand the devotion of your favorite heroes, by acting as they did, in a theater less vast, perhaps, but ennobling, in order to acquire, or to cause those who surround you to acquire, the principles of liberty, of solidarity, and of tolerance, which constitute the only legislation of the universes. After five hundred years, John Huss lives in the memory of all, he who shed only his own blood for the defense of the liberties he had proclaimed. But does anyone remember the prince who, at the same time, at the cost of enormous sacrifices of men and money, attempted to seize the lands of his neighbors? Does anyone remember the armed robbers who exacted tribute from imprudent travelers? And yet, celebrity is associated with the warrior, the bandit, and the philosopher; but the warrior and the murderer are dead to posterity. Their memory lies enclosed between two yellowed leaves of the medieval histories; the thinker, the philosopher, the one who first awakened the idea of right and of duty, who substituted the hope of liberty for slavery and the yoke, is alive in all hearts. He did not seek his own well-being and his own glory, he sought the happiness and the glory of future Humanity. The glory of conquerors is extinguished with the smoke of the blood they shed, with the forgetting of the tears they caused to flow; that of the regenerators increases without ceasing, because the human spirit, in growing greater, gathers up the scattered leaves on which are inscribed the glorious acts of these men of good.

Be like them, my friends; seek less the brilliance than the useful; do not be of the number of those who fight for liberty with the desire to be seen; be of those who struggle obscurely, but incessantly, for the triumph of all truths, and you too will be among those whose memory will never be effaced.

Allan Kardec.