unrelenting thought spoiled the splendour of the tabernacles and
tortured him in the midst of his penances.

He did not rebel against God, who had inflicted his action, but he
despaired at the thought that he had committed it.

He had such a horror of himself that he took all sorts of risks.
He rescued paralytics from fire and children from waves. But the
ocean scorned him and the flames spared him. Time did not allay
his torment, which became so intolerable that he resolved to die.

One day, while he was stooping over a fountain to judge of its
depth, an old man appeared on the other side. He wore a white
beard and his appearance was so lamentable that Julian could not
keep back his tears. The old man also was weeping. Without
recognising him, Julian remembered confusedly a face that
resembled his. He uttered a cry; for it was his father who stood
before him; and he gave up all thought of taking his own life.

Thus weighted down by his recollections, he travelled through many
countries and arrived at a river which was dangerous, because of
its violence and the slime that covered its shores. Since a long
time nobody had ventured to cross it.

The bow of an old boat, whose stern was buried in the mud, showed
among the reeds. Julian, on examining it closely, found a pair of
oars and hit upon the idea of devoting his life to the service of
his fellow-men.

He began by establishing on the bank of the river a sort of road