"And I venture to say that there is none here among us who has not from youth up realized the sacredness of death. If any sinned against the inviolable holiness of death, he should be visited with the severest punishment. "There was once a man here in Applum named Sven Elversson. His sin was that he had violated the sacredness of death. And we felt that he was more to be contemned than any amongst us. There may perhaps be some now present who were in the church that day when his sin was declared from the pulpit; some who remember how he looked as he stole away, humiliated and wretched. Some may, perhaps, have been among those who sent him on his way with words of scorn. He was a man who almost seemed to invite such treatment. Seeing how he smiled with the same patience whatever was done to him, how he moved aside and humbled himself in every way, one felt perhaps it was almost a duty to add a little to his shame. "And so it was that at last we made him leave the place. And I do not think anyone missed him greatly when he went. For there was something about him that was always asking our respect. Whenever anything difficult had to be done, and none of us were very willing to undertake it, that man stepped forward. He was trying to persuade us to give him back his honour as a man. And we could not do it, for we felt he was under the judgment of God. "And so he went on his way through life, as a man under the judgment of God. Always with the same humility, always fearing to stand in the way of others. And he kept apart from us, choosing rather those who were less hard to please--the vagabonds of the roads, and children, who had less knowledge of right and wrong. We found nothing strange in this; it was natural that the man should wish for some company of his fellows. And when we heard time after time how some poor child from the streets had been placed in a good home through his help, or that vagabonds and tramps had begun to seek honest work, we found nothing very strange in that, thinking only that the man had no doubt his own end in view all the time. He was always trying to win back some honour and respect for himself. And we were growing almost tired of his constant endeavours. "For what could we do for him after all? He had not sinned against any of us. He had not sinned in such a way that his crime could be atoned for by punishment. He had sinned against a sacred custom, and we had no power to grant him absolution. Moreover, we seemed to feel that God had condemned him as we ourselves had done. "And so, while he was striving to help his fellow men upward in life, I can imagine Death standing behind his chair, leering scornfully at him, knowing the man was in his power, was his prisoner and could not escape. Who was there in all the world that could deliver him?"