that thy children should reverence thee like a mother, Alexandria, and
I was begotten in thy magnificently adorned breast. But the ascetic
despises nature, the mystic scorns appearances, the Christian regards
his native land as a place of exile, the monk is not of this earth. I
have turned away my heart from loving thee, Alexandria. I hate thee! I
hate thee for thy riches, thy science, thy pleasures, and thy beauty. Be
accursed, temple of demons! Lewd couch of the Gentiles, tainted pulpit
of Arian heresy, be thou accursed! And thou, winged son of heaven who
led the holy hermit Anthony, our father, when he came from the depths of
the desert, and entered into the citadel of idolatry to strengthen the
faith of believers and the confidence of martyrs, beautiful angel of
the Lord, invisible child, first breath of God, fly thou before me, and
cleanse, by the beating of thy wings, the corrupted air I am about to
breathe amongst the princes of darkness of this world!"

Having thus spoken, he resumed his journey. He entered the city by the
Gate of the Sun. This gate was a handsome structure of stone. In the
shadow of its arch, crowded some poor wretches, who offered lemons
and figs for sale, or with many groans and lamentations, begged for an
obolus.

An old woman in rags, who was kneeling there, seized the monk's cassock,
kissed it, and said--

"Man of the Lord, bless me, that God may bless me. I have suffered many
things in this world that I may have joys in the world to come. You
come from God, O holy man, and that is why the dust of your feet is more
precious than gold."

"The Lord be praised!" said Paphnutius, and with his half-closed hand he