Example 4 - MAX, the beggar.

— In 1850, in a village of Bavaria, there died an old man nearly a hundred years old, known as Father Max. As he had no family, no one could determine his origin. For about half a century he had been incapacitated for earning a living, with no other resource than begging, which he disguised by seeking to sell, about the estates and castles, almanacs and other trifles.

He was given the nickname Count Max, and the children would call him only by the title, a circumstance that made him laugh without vexation. Why this title? No one could say. Custom had sanctioned it. Perhaps it had come from his countenance, from his manners, whose distinction made a contrast with the wretchedness of his rags.

Many years after his death, Max appeared in a dream to the daughter of the owner of a castle in whose stable he was once lodged, because he had no dwelling of his own. In that apparition, he said: "I thank you for having remembered poor Max in your prayers, for the Lord has heard them. Charitable soul, who took an interest in the poor beggar, since you wish to know who I am, I will satisfy you, imparting, at the same time and to all, a great teaching."

He then made to her the following account, more or less in these terms:

"About a century and a half ago I was one of the rich and powerful lords of this region, but proud of my nobility. My immense fortune, besides serving only my pleasures, scarcely sufficed for gambling, for debauchery, for the orgies that were my only preoccupation in life.

As for the vassals, because I considered them beasts of burden destined to serve me, they were trampled and oppressed, in order to provide for my dissipations. Deaf to their laments, as I generally was also with all the unfortunate, I thought that they should still consider themselves honored to satisfy my whims.

I died early, exhausted by excesses, but without having, in fact, experienced any real misfortune. On the contrary, everything seemed to smile upon me, to the point that I passed for one of the most fortunate beings in the world. I had a sumptuous funeral, and the revelers lamented the loss of the rich man, but the truth is that over my tomb not a single tear was shed, not a single prayer was made for me to God, from the heart, while my memory was cursed by all those to whose misery I had contributed.

Ah! And how terrible is the curse of those whom we wrong! For that curse did not cease to resound in my ears during long years that seemed to me an eternity. Then, at the death of each of my victims, there was a new specter, threatening or sarcastic, that rose before me, pursuing me without respite, without my being able to find any hidden recess where I might escape from their sight!

Not one friendly look! My former companions of debauchery, unfortunate like me, fled, seeming to say to me disdainfully: "You can no longer pay for our pleasures."

Oh! Then, how much would I have given for an instant of repose, for a glass of water to slake the burning thirst that devoured me! Yet I possessed nothing more, and all the gold poured out in streams over the Earth produced not a single blessing, not one… did you hear, my daughter?!

"Weary at last, oppressed, like a traveler who does not glimpse the end of his journey, I cried out: "My God, have compassion on me! When will this horrible situation end?" Then a voice — the first I had heard since leaving the Earth — said: "When you will."

What must be done, great God? — I replied. Say it, for I will submit to everything. — "What is needed is repentance; you must humble yourself before the very ones whom you humiliated; ask them to intercede for you, for the prayer of the offended one who forgives is always pleasing to the Lord."

And I humbled myself, and I begged my vassals and servants who were there before me, and whose faces, little by little more benevolent, ended by disappearing. This was for me like a new life; despair gave way to hope, while I thanked God with all the strength of my soul.

The voice added: "Prince…" to which I answered: "There is no other prince here but God, the Almighty God who humbles the proud. Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned; and if such be your will, make me the servant of my servants."

"Some years later I reincarnated into a family of poor burghers. While still a child I lost my parents, and I remained alone in the world, forsaken. I earned my living as I could, now as a workman, now as a field laborer, but always honestly, for I already believed in God.

But at forty years of age I became wholly paralyzed, and from then on it was necessary for me to beg for more than fifty years, throughout those very lands of which I had been the absolute lord. On the estates that had belonged to me, I received a crumb of bread, happy when for shelter they gave me the roof of a stable. And by a further bitter irony of fate, they nicknamed me Mister Count.

During sleep, it pleased me to wander through that same castle where I had reigned despotically, seeing myself again in the splendor of my former fortune! On waking, I felt from such visions an impression of bitterness and sadness, but never did a single complaint escape my lips; and when it pleased God to call me, I exalted His glory for having sustained me with firmness and resignation in so painful a trial, of which today I receive the reward. As for you, my daughter, I bless you for having prayed for me."

To this fact we ask the attention of all those who maintain that, without the prospect of eternal punishments, men would cease to have a curb upon their passions. Will a chastisement such as that of Father Max perhaps be less profitable than those endless punishments, in which today no one believes?

[1] This communication was published in the Spiritist Review of July 1863.