Advanced Study Group of Spiritism

EDITORIAL

TEXTS

He slept during the day, rarely did I see him sleep at night, only when he was ill.  Oh, how much pleasure he gave me! If on some mornings, Miguel and I overslept, Sultan would go to each of our rooms and wake us up ever so gently, carefully pulling the covers from over us. If on some afternoon, I walked through the woods then later sat down to meditate, and if on occasion sleep overcame me, he would then wake me up before the sky became completely dark. He always knew my wishes.

He would never enter the cemetery, on the contrary, he would wait for me at the entrance, barking with impatience when he saw the grave keeper. But later, when she died.....the pale young girl with the dark curls, he entered with me when I had her buried. There after, on days when we could not find Sultan anywhere, Miguel would say with a smile, “He is there.” By “there”he meant Sultan was in the cemetery. And sure enough, when we went looking for him, he was there next to her grave, behind the cross. Upon seeing me, Sultan would get up and run towards me, and then together we would both return to her grave, where the love and happiness of my life was buried. Oh Sultan, what a marvelous intelligence you possessed! What interest you took regarding me! Upon losing you, I have lost my best friend!

Before, when I would retire to the privacy of my own room, to pray with great lament regarding the persecutions that I was suffering, I would see him always there, very still and listening. He never tired of being with me, his eyes always looking and searching for mine. In the end, for that very last sleep, it was he himself who reclined his head on my lap, looking for the warmth of my body, until the very last moment of that instant when within him, that mysterious flame which is in all the beings of creation, went out.

It is now that I am really alone, because poor Miguel is like a machine, who only functions if I ask it to function. But Sultan, he had initiative, and was full of action. If I have done a few good deeds during my existence, he has been the one to have first pushed me towards them, because he always seemed to being saying, with his caresses and looks full of intention, “Let’s go, because it is necessary to save someone.” And, I would eagerly go, in my great desire to do good.

Now, no one awakens me nor is happy to see me. There is a coldness in my soul, an intense chill, and when I enter my poor house, everything is silent. Poor old Miguel, occupied in the garden, will come if I call him, but if not... he does not even hear my footsteps, and he continues busy with his favorite chore. I sit by the window looking at the sky and its immensity, and many memories flow through my mind. If there have been some, who have directed gratitude towards me, in my close reflections, there have also been images of my implacable enemies. They have pursued and accused me of being an apostate, a traitor to the Church and the State. And if it were not a crime, I would tell them, “Kill me and gratify your wrath against this poor old man who now lacks the strength to struggle against humanity.” But this cannot be. Life is a sacred depository. We cannot take away a life that does not belong to us; they would then be criminals, and I suicidal. Mankind does not come to earth to kill, because the fifth Commandment of the Law of God says, “Thou shalt not kill.” That is why I, following His Mandate, have done all that I can, to prevent society from committing murder, and that is why they accuse me, even calling me full of greed. Dear God, that is what I deplore the most, that they accuse me of avarice, believing that I was the one who inherited the fortune of the last Duke Constantine of Hus.

Time! Time, that mysterious magician, that great mathematician of the centuries that sums up all the accounts, who deciphers and resolves all problems, that agent of the past, has told men  that the Duke of Hus did not die at the hands of unknown assassins. On the contrary, he died very peacefully in his bed. His body now rests in the humble grave shaded by the willow trees and sweetened by flowers planted on his grave by those who were grateful to him. This is known. It is also known that the workers of Master John, as he later called himself, inherited all of what he had left, but they cannot conceive that the one who saved him, inherited nothing. They believe that the greater part of his wealth was given over to me before the death of the Duke.

Poor humanity! It does not believe in sacrifice without immediate benefits; they cannot content themselves with the fact that I risked imprisonment, and a sure death, for setting a disgraced criminal onto the path of virtue.

Earthly reasoning, how backward it still is! Reason is immersed in degradation, and submerged with egotism, chained by the most complete ignorance. It looks at everything with pettiness... in small ways; for it, there is nothing else but transactions, businesses, and usury. Loan a dollar and get back one hundred! Man is ignorant that the soul lives after material death; he believes that everything starts and ends in one life time on this planet earth, that is why people with this belief have such a passion for ephemeral amusements in this one existence.

I see beyond this, that is why gold does not seduce me. I am not virtuous, no, but what I am, is reasonable and essentially logical. I do not look for sainthood, I look for progress.  In the  ultimate result, how does religion view saintliness on earth?  It is intolerance of men, the annihilation of the body, and the breaking of all natural laws. Here is the saintliness of  mankind! Is this agreeable to God? Does it please Him to see His children struggling like hungry beasts?

No; if God is Love, if God is Justice, how could He wish that He be adored with cruel sacrifices? We should adore the Creator, the Ultimate Truth, with acts of truth. But mankind does not wish to comprehend, and since the majority of beings who call themselves rational do not see beyond the earth on which they step upon, they do not wish to become convinced that there are spiritual beings who see and reveal the Universal Life. An immortal life that I can sense, a life that I can see, that I can touch, and that I feel germinating within me, a generous salve which reanimates my weakened body and nourishes my weakened spirit.

Yet, when urgent circumstances cast me into the impetuous current of the world, when the persecution of men brings to my lips the cup of bitterness, when at times I must taste this bitterness of life, it is then that I contemplate on Nature and see renovation in everything, even in my own death.... Then I reflect and say to myself, “I'm also an integral atom and part of Creation and subject to the eternal laws of regeneration.” I will live, because everything will continue to live! I will progress, because everything progresses! I, dear Lord, believe in You, and I adore You and Your Immense Work, and, I follow as much as possible Your beautiful Laws, so that one day I can enter Your Kingdom! But, what afflictions! This one existence has cost me much agony, one that is so short of pleasure....and so endless with pain! Never do I stop suffering....always when I do a good work, it leaves me with an inheritance of tears. I was able to help the Duke of Hus to die peacefully in his bed, but....I do not know how I will die. Give me strength dear God! A man has power over me who knows the whole story, and I am sad to say, I am also the voice of his conscience.

In his hands he now has my life, I hold a special fascination for him. He wants to kill me but not be responsible for my death. What will he do with me? God only knows, Rudolph is to be dreaded.

A long time ago an old nobleman secretly ended his life and I was his confessor, but the  poison he took did not work as fast as he expected, so he sent for me to help him hasten his death. I could do nothing but hear him out in that critical supreme final hour, in those sacred moments in which men, even if they are corrupt, do not dare lie. The old man told me, “Father, I'm taking my own life to avoid a crime. I prefer being a criminal to having my son be one. I have seen in my son Rudolph’s eyes a sentence of death for me, and to avoid patricide, I have preferred to leave this earth by my own hand. My son hates me because I'm the only one that can tell him, face-to-face,‘you are wicked!’ Father, to you I entrust him. Look out for him, be his second father, being that his first one had to flee to avoid a horrendous crime from being committed. May God take into account, the reason for the taking of my own life!” The old man died and the fire that was in his eyes pierced through me.

Rudolph, who was hiding behind the heavy curtains that surrounded the bed, had heard the confession of his father. Upon seeing me, he flung himself against me, roaring like a wounded lion. I held on to his arm, and told him, “Evil one, get out of here, do not profane the body of your poor father!” And even though he was strong and me weak,  I restrained his hands of iron in mine. I demanded that he leave that room which now served as a mortuary. Then I told him, after freeing him,“Injure me if you wish.” He looked at me and lifted his right hand as if to strike, but I fixed my eyes on his, and he fell as if wounded by a ray of light, cursing me horribly under his breath.

A short time afterwards, the Count of A..... called upon me to make his last confession, and it was then that he told me, “Father, I only have one daughter. She has been dishonored by Rudolph and wanting to wash that blot against my honor with blood, and upon seeing that he did not want to give my Bertha, his last name, I asked him to a duel. But, he told me that he did not duel with old men, which I believed was just an excuse. He did not fight me because he is afraid that I would kill him, because the arm of one who has been offended, receives strength from God. So, my plan was to kill him and make my daughter enter a convent. But, Rudolph was more clever then me, he stabbed me in the back and even though he did it secretly, I found out it was him. My assassin is known to no one, because I have denied from all the name of my murderer. My poor Bertha does not even care. My family name remains dishonored if my daughter does not marry her seducer. I confide only in you, Father. I will die peacefully if you will swear that you will obligate Rudolph to marry my daughter and give her his family name.”

I promised that martyr that his noble honor would be fulfilled and acting immediately, I went to see Rudolph. I told him that his life was in my hands because I knew his horrible secrets. Subjugated by my will, he acceded to my demands. Prior to the burial of the body of the Count of A......, I blessed the union of Bertha and Rudolph. Also, a strange thing happened, if I would have been asked to swear, I would have had to say that the soul of the Count of A........ had served as one of the witnesses at that sacred ceremony, because I clearly saw him by the side of his daughter. But who knows?

Bertha went to the country to mourn the death of her father. Later while there, she gave birth to a baby so deformed and so frightfully hideous, that I baptized him secretly, to save the mother from public humiliation. It was felt that the child was born as the old saying goes ‘under an evil star’, and his own mother felt horror upon looking at him. Rudolph repeatedly told me that his name would not be on such a  monstrous creature.

I took charge of the child and placed him in a farm house with a wet nurse near my parish. Meanwhile, the child’s parents went away traveling for eight months and I heard nothing from them. In the meantime, the child, hunchbacked and pale, lived, thanks to the care which he received. He was repulsive to look at and had a violent character, but with me he always smiled.  When I would kiss him, without explanation of the cause, I would feel my heart so heavy.

One morning the wet nurse came to me crying and told me that they had taken away the child.

“Who?” I asked, trembling.

“The boy’s own father, Sir. It has been three days since he came and gave me quite a bit of money, and, no matter how much I pleaded with him to leave the baby with me, he said, ‘No, his  mother must see him,’ and he left, taking the boy.”

The poor woman left, and without losing time, I went immediately to the manor house of Rudolph, where the servants told me that the parents had left about fifteen minutes before, but they could say nothing about the child. I was speechless, and when I found myself alone, and without knowing why, I cried. But crying with such despair, that my tears were like drops of fire twisting in their path, which instead of sliding down my face, fell directly to my heart.

I was always inspired with the most profound compassion by that child, because his mother did not love him and he was the cause of her weakness. And to his father, the child was the inheritor of his name, marked by God's wrath. Both, in their ignorance, blamed God’s anger and  vengeance for the deformities of the child, which was not true. But the world is full of absurdity.

That night I couldn’t sleep, and someone said softly in my ear, that the child had been murdered. These suspicions grew within me daily, and it was allotted to Sultan to eventually find the body of that innocent baby. On one afternoon, while walking on the uninhabited side of the nearby mountain, at the foot of an old cedar tree, I noticed that Sultan was digging with furor. I helped him and soon found, wrapped in a cape, the body of  Rudolph’s baby, in a state perfectly preserved. The deceased victim betrayed its murderers because his father and mother were the only enemies that poor being had. I had no doubt that Rudolph, perhaps with the connivance of Bertha, had killed that unfortunate child.

I re-buried  the body, covering his tomb with earth, full of my tears. I returned to my house suffering an acute inner sickness because the infamy of men acts as the most powerful venom on all those with sensitive souls.

I told no one of my sad discovery, because in the crimes of the great, the victims are always of the smallest. I wrote to only Rudolph, and obtained only silence as his response, but later on, a persecution of great terror followed me. The years passed, while Rudolph acquired great renown and influence at Court. He has always taken a part, either directly or indirectly, in all the aspects of my life. The truth is, that every time we have seen each other, his look has fixed itself on me with terrible detestation because he can never forgive me, it being that I know all of his crimes. For me, he is but a wretched person and this exasperates him because he tries to present himself as being flawless, but no one is more absent of virtues then he, who has none.

There is a mystery between Rudolph and I. He hates me. Upon seeing him, I know by the way he looks at me, he regrets not having strangled me before the dead body of his father. But, at the same time, as I look at him, he then closes his eyes as if he were dazzled, then flees with desperation.  I, on the other hand love him. Why...? Were we united in some way in another existence? Who knows! I only know that in spite of the fact that I recognize him as being a great criminal, I love him. Yes, I love him with all my soul, and in the depths of my heart there is a world of tenderness for him, and, for the poor child that sleeps at the foot of that cedar tree up in  the mountain.

Many, many times, that little one, awakens in my memories, and always I say a prayer for that ignored tomb, in his memory.

When the secret and mystery was discovered of how Constantine of Hus passed those last years of his life, Rudolph was the one to show the most interest, because this seemed a propitious circumstance which he could use to get rid of me and he wanted to make the most of it. I now find myself in the Hands of God, and I let man do what he wills. But God protects and watches out for me. I do not doubt it.

A few months ago, Rudolph came with the express order of taking me with him to appear before my superiors, and to be judged by the tribunals of the Church and the State. Why did he not force me to go with him? Why did he, after hearing me out and fulfilling the punishment that I had passed on to him, let me go free, and I've not heard from him? Why is this?  Because above all the hate of mankind, there is the immutable Justice of God.  Yes, oh yes, God is Just!

I was alone one night in my quarters when Rudolph entered, saying with caustic irony, “Do you know what's done to those that hide criminals?”

“What happens to them?” I asked coldly.

“They are bound with a short chain.”

“Then I should have been tied up a long time ago.”

“Do you then confess to your crimes?”

 “I will not confess them.....! You, by the way, are my accomplice.”

“I? What are you saying?”

“The truth. Perhaps, you are the first assassin that I have felt sorrow for,” I said.

“Be careful what you say,” he said.

“We are alone, Rudolph, which is why I can talk this way. Don’t you remember?” I then took his hand into mine and looked at him attentively, “Do you remember? It was twenty five years ago when your father died and you.... heard his last confession and.... his confessor obstructed you, but.... he lived causing you suffering. Five years have passed since the Count of A....... died and we both know who the assassin was. You married the daughter of the victim and a short time later, there came one who inherited your name. He lived only eight months on this earth and in that short term what was accomplished? A father without heart, without feeling, an iniquitous  monster grabbed him from his cradle because that poor deformed being upset his mother, a mother without a soul. That poor child, with his frightening looks, who appeared to be a punishment from God, and so that his parents would not appear ridiculous to society, what better way than to make him disappear? What do you say to that, Rudolph? Is it not true that the innocent child’s father is truly evil to kill a defenseless being for the sole crime of it being deformed...!”

“Shut up, shut up! Go to hell! I do not know why you’re still alive, you are an accursed   shadow in my life! I do not know what happens when I'm near you, before you, I cannot tell lies. You tell me all the horrible secrets of my evil existence and I listen to you without silencing you for good. Do not look at me! Set me free from that bewitching enchantment of which you have over me. Do not take my hand because on contact with you, it always feels as if lead is burning through my veins.”

I dropped his hand and sat down in an arm chair, he remained standing, looking at me with intense fury, finally telling me, “So it is true what she told me!”

“She, who?” I asked.

“Who would it be but my wife Bertha. She who, upon finding out that I was coming to see you, said,‘That man is a witch, a sorcerer, and with his black arts he will subjugate you and we will never find our happiness.’ ”

“I will let you question me about anything. What is it that you wish to know?”

“What do you want me to ask you, when you know it all? I know very well the whole story of Hus, is it not true?”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

“Why then do you protect these evildoers?”

“For the same reasons that I protect you, because I feel that with persuasion rather than with severe punishment, I can obtain           more. Fortunately, I have always obtained good results, except with you. As an unrepentant criminal, you continue descending to the bottom of the abyss, but I always have hope that you will keep from slipping further, by becoming more aware of your vices. You see, if you did this, you would stop your evil ways. I know you hate me and that I have been the torment of your life. I know that there is no lack of assassins that if you wanted to, within seconds, they would come to kill my weakened body. You think about it many times, but you do not do it. You know that no one but me knows of your three greatest crimes. If you remember, I wrote you right away and told you when I found the body of your son, calling you guilty of infanticide. You did not answer me because there was nothing you could say, I whom you have never been able to lie to. Your wife also feels the weight of guilt while I still live, because she understands perfectly that I know full well the part she played in your last crime. You're both rich and powerful; and you could make me disappear, you could plunge me into a dungeon where I would never see the rays of the beautiful sun again. Why haven’t you done it? Why have you not accused me of being one who conceals criminals? Do you know why you do not do it?”  I asked.

“Why?”

“Because I morally dominate you; because mercy is the most powerful weapon on earth, that's why you feel so humble before me. You a noble, the favorite of a king, one who can upon his desire use the powers of the State, why is it that you abdicate your rights before the eyes of a poor old man who has the habit of loving his fellow man? Run, go, tell the king that Constantin of Hus died in my arms, to send troops to capture me, now that  you do not have courage to do it. What is one criminal to you, more or less? One who has committed patricide twice and guilty once of infanticide, it would be easy for you to denounce a benefactor of humanity who has asked God in all his prayers, for the progress of your spirit.”

“Keep quiet, Father, quiet!” he shouted.

“Criminal!” I said, “My voice is the only one on earth that tells you the truth. Aren’t you  tired of committing crimes? Do you think that I do not see you? Do you think that I am not aware of all the intrigues that you've taken part in?  How long are you going to live like this? Do you not realize that there is no crime committed, that does not come without punishment? You killed your son because he was ugly. You wanted a more beautiful son, but your wife has been sterile. It's because your bloodline has to be extinguished, because where a criminal has left foot prints, they should be wiped out. Think about tomorrow, Rudolph, think about your future.”

Rudolph looked at me intently. I rose, moved a chair close to mine, and made him sit down next to me. I took his hands and after a while he, upon feeling overwhelmed, softened that hard facial expression of his, and he told me, “I do not know...I do not know what happens to me when I'm with you. From afar I hate you, as you well know, a hate that could only be satisfied with your death. My past, at times disturbs me, but what aggravates me the most is that another man knows all my secrets. I have the means of taking care of you, because you have defied the tribunals, and when I go to sign the order sending you to prison, the pen falls from my hand, and I feel a terrible pain in my heart, and I get up and run from myself.”

“My son, I'm happy that this is happening. But not because of me but for your sake, because your spirit is starting to finally feel something. I, in dying, what would I lose?  Only a solitary existence, full of misery and contradictions. Here in this world I feel cold, very cold, but in a tomb, in the breast of mother earth, I would be much better off. But, if you were to kill me, it would be more remorse for you. Have I offended you? No, I have been to you what I've  been to others, a minister of God, who believes that he is the interpreter of His forgiving mercy, and His love towards sinners. Those are my only crimes. My son, someone has conducted you here to me because the time has arrived for your rehabilitation. Your hair is getting silver and  you have reached the pinnacle of power, but there is something higher, Rudolph. I do not want to die without placing you on the right path.”

“What do I have to do to start? Leave you free?”

“That question makes no difference to me, because wherever I am, I will always seek to reach God. What I will ask you is for another thing.”

“What? Tell me.”

“Tomorrow, when the sun brings light to the world, I want you and your wife to go and pray at the tomb of your son, and believe me, it's more beneficial for you both to visit it while you are still alive than after death. Otherwise, you both will be bound to the soul of that child for centuries, upon centuries. Take the first step, Rudolph, because redemption is never too late for God.”

Rudolph trembled, and looked at me. And I, who knew the great moral power that I held over him, asked God for enough strength to be able to dominate him, and it was given me.  All night, I fervently prayed for him not to miss that appointment, and he did not.

On the following day, early in the morning, I went to pray under the tree that gave shade to that child's ashes. Shortly thereafter, I observed Rudolph and Bertha coming up the side of the hill, on that mountain. Immediately, I got down on my knees and exclaimed, “Dear God Who sees me! You Who can read into the depths of my heart!  You Who understand my desires, inspire me during these supreme moments, so that these two beings feel within themselves the pangs of remorse in their afflicted minds, and, that they ask for Your mercy with the most sincerest repentance!”

Rudolph and Bertha arrived and prostrated themselves without saying one single word to me. They both were pale, distressed, and trembling. They looked about fearfully and with apprehension. She kneeled and prayed, and he reclined back against the trunk of the tree, almost hidden from sight amidst the branches. I approached Bertha and told her, “Look at me, have no fear. I'm neither a witch nor a magician, nor a sorcerer. I am only a minister of God and one who has cried for your crime.”

Bertha, upon hearing these words, was moved enough to shed a few tears, and I said, “Do not try and hold back from crying. Cry, you poor wretch! Cry, on the tomb of your poor son, so that his fertile ashes will produce flowers! Cry, because tears are like the blessed river Jordan, where tear drops of sin purify those guilty of murder! Cry, you ungrateful woman, cry! You who scorned the blessing that God granted you. So now, consider your sterility. You flung from your breast an innocent child who would have loved you, but now the fountain of life has dried up in you. Look, consider the path from which you came up, the whole mountain is covered as with a green rug, only the pathway where you have stepped has turned yellow, because the footprints of a criminal only leave tracks of death!”

Rudolph and Bertha looked at the path I had indicated, such was the power my voice carried over them and the potency of my will which had impressed itself on those two rebellious spirits. So fervent was the prayer that I had directed to God, so profound was the faith that I felt, so immense my desire, so pure my sentiment, and so great and powerful my inspiration, that I found myself surrounded by luminous figures, and the words, “Speak, God is Listening!” resounded in my ears. Wherein, I told them in a prophetic voice, “Look! Do you see your path? You carry Death with you because the foot prints of a criminal always destroy everything!”  I  also saw the grass yellow and wilted, and I continued talking, “Look! Sterile earth is all you will find! Your life will be like traveling through hardened flat lands without rest. You will ask for water and bread, but fountains will be dry and the blades of wheat will be pulled out by the strong south winds, because Creation provides nothing for ungrateful children. Return now to your gilded jail, get intoxicated at your feasts, adorn yourselves with your purple robes, keep fooling yourselves, but remember the footprints of a criminal always leave tracks of death.”

Bertha cried, and Rudolph looked at me inexplicably. All the passions were reflected in him; and he took my hand and said with a trembling voice, “I'm leaving here.... or I will go crazy. But, I will return.” Then he descended rapidly down the mountain. Bertha, supported by my arm, went down with me slowly. Once in a while, she would look back, and mentally I said, “Dear God, I hope that to her eyes, she still sees the wilted grass.” And it was so, because the desire in me was so great and,  I believed that with my breath turning to fire, I could have turned the whole world’s grasses wilted and yellow.

That poor sinner trembled with terror and then said to me, “Father, the grass is dry.”

“Yes, it's dry just like your heart has been. But God, if you wish, will give you an eternal spring. Love the poor, gather to you the orphans and the elderly invalids, practice truth and sublime charity. Love, because you have never loved! Have feelings, because you have never felt for anyone! Repent, poor sinner! It is never too late for God, our Father, have confidence and hope in Him. If today your tracks are wilted, and you change, later you will see germinate the most beautiful flowers.”

Before arriving at the parish we separated, but before parting, Rudolph again told me that he would return.

Some months have passed and he has not returned. Perhaps, away from my presence, his hate has been reborn. But I'm sure that when I elevate my spirit and when I think about the reformation of those two beings, and I say, “Dear God, may they see in their dreams the foot path of wilted grass on the mountain and that they still hear my voice saying, ‘The footprints of a criminal only leave a trail of death! Repent!’ ”, with all the profound faith that I have within my soul, this I ask God, and He should hear my fervent supplication.

What has happened to them? What will happen to me? Lord, I surrender myself to You.   May Your Supreme Will be done. You are the most Wisest of the sages, the Greatest of the great. You are God, and solely You possess infinite wisdom!
 

                                                                                                          Father Germain