The Spiritist Review - Journal of Psychological Studies - 1862

Spiritist Society of Lyon, Group Villon, medium Mrs. Bouilland

A spirit was forced to leave Earth, a place that he could not have visited given the fact that he was from a much inferior region. He had, however, asked to endure a trial and God did not refuse his request. Well! His hopes when coming to this world did not come true and his brute nature dominated him every day, staining his passage with greater faults. For a long time the guiding Spirits of mankind tried to veer him off from the bad path but then, tired of the attempt they finally left the unfortunate spirit on his own, almost fearing for any contact with him.


Nonetheless, everything comes to an end. Sooner or later everything comes out in the open and the repressive justice of the world imposes the eye for an eye penalty. This time it was not a head for another head though. It was one for a hundred. Yesterday, after having spent fifty years on Earth that spirit would return to the space and meet the Supreme Judge that weighs in one’s faults much more inexorably than people would do on this planet. The guardian Spirits hopelessly tried to avoid the penalty by trying to introduce some regret in that rebellious soul. They hopelessly brought to him the Spirits of his whole family. Each one tried to extract at least a sigh of sorrow from him. The fatal moment was near and nothing moved that soul of bronze, somewhat inhuman. Yet, a single sign of regret before leaving this life behind could have mitigated his sufferings, already condemned to lose his life by the worldly justice, and condemned by God to an endless remorse, a horrible torture like the vulture devouring a heart that revives incessantly.


While the Spirits worked tirelessly to bring out of him at least a thought of repentance, another spirit, an enthralling spirit, highly gifted with sensitivity and sublime tenderness glided around a very dear head, a head that was alive and said: "Think of the unfortunate who will die; tell me about him."


When charity is sympathetic, when two Spirits agree as if they were one, the mind is kind of charged with electricity. Soon after that the incarnate spirit said to the messenger of love: "My child, try to inspire a little remorse in this miserable that is about to die; go and console him!"


And thinking of everything that the miserable man would have to suffer in his atonement, a sneaky teardrop escapes from the eyes of the one who alone at that early hour awoke thinking of that impure creature who would momentarily meet his fate. The gentle messenger collected that charitable teardrop in the palm of his little hand, and in a quick flight carried it over to the tabernacle containing similar relics, and prayed like that:


"Lord, an impious is about to die; you condemned him, but you said: "I forgive where there is remorse and I grant indulgence when there is repentance." Here is a teardrop of true charity, which has gone through the heart in the eyes of the person I love the most in the world. I bring this teardrop: it is the pric ften the heart of the cold soul that will atone for his crimes.

- Go, replied the Master; go my child. This blessed teardrop can pay many ransoms.


The sweet child left and went to the place of execution of that criminal. What the child said to that man only God knows; what happened in the mind of that pariah of society nobody understood but he opened his eyes to light and saw before him a horrifying past. The very man who feared no instrument of death, who smiled before his condemnation, he raised his eyes and a thick and painful teardrop dropped like lead from his eyes.


After this mute demonstration that her prayers had been heard the angel of charity extended her white wings over the miserable man, collected the teardrop and seemingly said: “Oh unfortunate one! You will suffer less. I take your redemption with me!”


What a contrast can be inspired by the charity of our Creator! The most abject creature, at the bottom of the stairwell, and the purest angel about to enter the world of the elected ones, and just a sign is needed to extend her visible protection upon that scum of society.


From the Almighty tribunal, God blessed that touching scene and all of us surrounding the child said: “Go and collect your award.”


The gentle messenger rose to heavens and with the scorching hot teardrop in her hands she could say: