Paphnutius passed his life in teaching his disciples, and in ascetic practices.Often did he meditate upon the Holy Scriptures in order to find allegories in them.Therefore he abounded in good works, though still young.The devils, who so rudely assailed the good hermits, did not dare to approach him.At night, seven little jackals sat in the moonlight in front of his cell, silent and motionless, and with their ears pricked up.It was believed that they were seven devils, who, owing to his sanctity, could not cross his threshold.
Paphnutius was born at Alexandria of noble parents, who had instructed him in all profane learning.He had even been allured by the falsehoods of the poets, and in his early youth had been misguided enough to believe that the human race had all been drowned by a deluge in the days of Deucalion, and had argued with his fellow-scholars concerning the nature, the attributes, and even the existence of God.
He then led a life of dissipation, after the manner of the Gentiles, and he recalled the memory of those days with shame and horror.
"At that time," he used to say to the brethren, "I seethed in the cauldron of false delights."He meant by that that he had eaten food properly dressed, and frequented the public baths.In fact, until his twentieth year he had continued to lead the ordinary existence of those times, which now seemed to him rather death than life; but, owing to the lessons of the priest Macrinus, he then became a new man.
The truth penetrated him through and through, and--as he used to say--entered his soul like a sword.He embraced the faith of Calvary, and worshipped Christ crucified.After his baptism he remained yet a year amongst the Gentiles, unable to cast off the bonds of old habits.But one day he entered a church, and heard a deacon read from the Bible, the verse, "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor." Thereupon he sold all that he had, gave away the money in alms, and embraced the monastic life.
During the ten years that he had lived remote from men, he no longer seethed in the cauldron of false delights, but more profitably macerated his flesh in the balms of penitence.
One day when, according to his pious custom, he was recalling to mind the hours he had lived apart from God, and examining his sins one by one, that he might the better ponder on their enormity, he remembered that he had seen at the theatre at Alexandria a very beautiful actress named Thais.This woman showed herself in the public games, and did not scruple to perform dances, the movements of which, arranged only too cleverly, brought to mind the most horrible passions.Sometimes she imitated the horrible deeds which the Pagan fables ascribe to Venus, Leda, or Pasiphae.Thus she fired all the spectators with lust, and when handsome young men, or rich old ones, came, inspired with love, to hang wreaths of flowers round her door, she welcomed them, and gave herself up to them.So that, whilst she lost her own soul, she also ruined the souls of many others.
She had almost led Paphnutius himself into the sins of the flesh.She had awakened desire in him, and he had once approached the house of Thais.But he stopped on the threshold of the courtesan's house, partly restrained by the natural timidity of extreme youth--he was then but fifteen years old--and partly by the fear of being refused on account of his want of money, for his parents took care that he should commit no great extravagances.
God, in His mercy, had used these two means to prevent him from committing a great sin.But Paphnutius had not been grateful to Him for that, because at that time he was blind to his own interests, and did not know that he was lusting after false delights.Now, kneeling in his cell, before the image of that holy cross on which hung, as in a balance, the ransom of the world, Paphnutius began to think of Thais, because Thais was a sin to him, and he meditated long, according to ascetic rules, on the fearful hideousness of the carnal delights with which this woman had inspired him in the days of his sin and ignorance.After some hours of meditation the image of Thais appeared to him clearly and distinctly.He saw her again, as he had seen her when she tempted him, in all the beauty of the flesh.At first she showed herself like a Leda, softly lying upon a bed of hyacinths, her head bowed, her eyes humid and filled with a strange light, her nostrils quivering, her mouth half open, her breasts like two flowers, and her arms smooth and fresh as two brooks.At this sight Paphnutius struck his breast and said--"I call Thee to witness, my God, that I have considered how heinous has been my sin."Gradually the face of the image changed its expression.Little by little the lips of Thais, by lowering at the corners of the mouth, expressed a mysterious suffering.Her large eyes were filled with tears and lights; her breast heaved with sighs, like the sighing of a wind that precedes a tempest.At this sight Paphnutius was troubled to the bottom of his soul.Prostrating himself on the floor, he uttered this prayer--"Thou who hast put pity in our hearts, like the morning dew upon the fields, O just and merciful God, be Thou blessed! Praise! praise be unto Thee! Put away from Thy servant that false tenderness which tempts to concupiscence, and grant that I may only love Thy creatures in Thee, for they pass away, but Thou endurest for ever.If I care for this woman, it is only because she is Thy handiwork.The angels themselves feel pity for her.Is she not, O Lord, the breath of Thy mouth? Let her not continue to sin with many citizens and strangers.
