Thaïs | Page 8

is sometimes a danger for him to read in the Scriptures that
the Divine Master journeyed from town to town and supped with His
disciples. The virtues that the anchorites embroider so carefully on the
tissue of faith, are as fragile as they are beautiful; a breath of ordinary
life may tarnish their pleasant colours. For that reason, Paphnutius
avoided the towns, fearing lest his heart should soften at the sight of his
fellow men.
He journeyed along lonely roads. When evening came, the murmuring
of the breeze amidst the tamarisk trees made him shiver, and he pulled
his hood over his eyes that he might not see how beautiful all things
were. After walking six days, he came to a place called Silsile. There
the river runs in a narrow valley, bordered by a double chain of granite
mountains. It was there that the Egyptians, in the days when they
worshipped demons, carved their idols. Paphnutius saw an enormous
sphinx carved in the solid rock. Fearing that it might still possess some
diabolical properties, he made the sign of the cross, and pronounced the
name of Jesus; he immediately saw a bat fly out of one of the monster's

ears, and Paphnutius knew that he had driven out the evil spirits which
had been for centuries in the figure. His zeal increased, and picking up
a large stone, he threw it in the idol's face. Then the mysterious face of
the sphinx expressed such profound sadness that Paphnutius was
moved. In fact, the expression of superhuman grief on the stone visage
would have touched even the most unfeeling man. Therefore
Paphnutius said to the sphinx--
"O monster, be like the satyrs and centaurs our father Anthony saw in
the desert, and confess the divinity of Jesus Christ, and I will bless thee
in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."
When he had spoken a rosy light gleamed in the eyes of the sphinx; the
heavy eyelids of the monster quivered and the granite lips painfully
murmured, as though in echo to the man's voice, the holy name of Jesus
Christ; therefore Paphnutius stretched out his right hand, and blessed
the sphinx of Silsile.
That being done, he resumed his journey, and the valley having grown
wider, he saw the ruins of an immense city. The temples, which still
remained standing, were supported by idols which served as columns,
and--by the permission of God--these figures with women's heads and
cow's horns, threw on Paphnutius a long look which made him turn
pale. He walked thus seventeen days, his only food a few raw herbs,
and he slept at night in some ruined palace, amongst the wild cats and
Pharaoh's rats, with which mingled sometimes, women whose bodies
ended in a scaly tail. But Paphnutius knew that these women came
from hell, and he drove them away by making the sign of the cross.
On the eighteenth day, he found, far from any village, a wretched hut
made of palm leaves, and half buried under the sand which had been
driven by the desert wind. He approached it, hoping that the hut was
inhabited by some pious anchorite. He saw inside the hovel--for there
was no door--a pitcher, a bunch of onions, and a bed of dried leaves.
"This must be the habitation of a hermit," he said to himself. "Hermits
are generally to be found near their hut, and I shall not fail to meet this
one. I will give him the kiss of peace, even as the holy Anthony did

when he came to the hermit Paul, and kissed him three times. We will
discourse of things eternal, and perhaps our Lord will send us, by one
of His ravens, a crust of bread, which my host will willingly invite me
to share with him."
Whilst he was thus speaking to himself, he walked round the hut to see
if he could find any one. He had not walked a hundred paces when he
saw a man seated, with his legs crossed, by the side of the river. The
man was naked; his hair and beard were quite white, and his body
redder than brick. Paphnutius felt sure this must be the hermit. He
saluted him with the words the monks are accustomed to use when they
meet each other.
"Peace be with you, brother! May you some day taste the sweet joys of
paradise."
The man did not reply. He remained motionless, and appeared not to
have heard. Paphnutius supposed this was due to one of those
rhapsodies to which the saints are accustomed. He knelt down, with his
hands joined, by the side of the unknown, and remained thus in prayer
till sunset. Then, seeing that his companion had not moved, he said to