Thaïs | Page 9

immortal."
The old man replied--
"It is useless to act, or to abstain from acting. It matters not whether we live or die."
"Eh, what?" asked Paphnutius. "Do you not desire to live through all eternity? But, tell me, do you not live in a hut in the desert as the hermits do?"
"It seems so."
"Do I not see you naked, and lacking all things?"
"It seems so."
"Do you not feed on roots, and live in chastity?"
"It seems so."
"Have you not renounced all the vanities of this world?"
"I have truly renounced all those vain things for which men commonly care."
"Then you are like me, poor, chaste, and solitary. And you are not so --as I am--for the love of God, and with a hope of celestial happiness! That I cannot understand. Why are you virtuous if you do not believe in Jesus Christ? Why deprive yourself of the good things of this world if you do not hope to gain eternal riches in heaven?"
"Stranger, I deprive myself of nothing which is good, and I flatter myself that I have found a life which is satisfactory enough, though-- to speak more precisely--there is no such thing as a good or evil life. Nothing is itself, either virtuous or shameful, just or unjust, pleasant or painful, good or bad. It is our opinion which gives those qualities to things, as salt gives savour to meats."
"So then, according to you there is no certainty. You deny the truth which the idolaters themselves have sought. You lie in ignorance--like a tired dog sleeping in the mud."
"Stranger, it is equally useless to abuse either dogs or philosophers. We know not what dogs are or what we are. We know nothing."
"Old man, do you belong, then, to the absurd sect of sceptics? Are you one of those miserable fools who alike deny movement and rest, and who know not how to distinguish between the light of the sun and the shadows of night?"
"Friend, I am truly a sceptic, and of a sect which appears praiseworthy to me, though it seems ridiculous to you. For the same things often assume different appearances. The pyramids of Memphis seem at sunrise to be cones of pink light. At sunset they look like black triangles against the illuminated sky. But who shall solve the problem of their true nature? You reproach me with denying appearances, when, in fact, appearances are the only realities I recognise. The sun seems to me illuminous, but its nature is unknown to me. I feel that fire burns--but I know not how or why. My friend, you understand me badly. Besides, it is indifferent to me whether I am understood one way or the other."
"Once more. Why do you live on dates and onions in the desert? Why do you endure great hardships? I endure hardships equally great, and, like you, I live in abstinence and solitude. But then it is to please God, and to earn eternal happiness. And that is a reasonable object, for it is wise to suffer now for a future gain. It is senseless, on the contrary, to expose yourself voluntarily to useless fatigue and vain sufferings. If I did not believe--pardon my blasphemy, O uncreated Light!--if I did not believe in the truth of that which God has taught us by the voice of the prophets, by the example of His Son, by the acts of the Apostles, by the authority of councils, and by the testimony of the martyrs,--if I did not know that the sufferings of the body are necessary for the salvation of the soul--if I were, like thee, lost in ignorance of sacred mysteries--I would return at once amongst the men of this day, I would strive to acquire riches, that I might live in ease, like those who are happy in this world, and I would say to the votaries of pleasure, 'Come, my daughters, come, my servants, come and pour out for me your wines, your philtres, your perfumes.' But you, foolish old man! you deprive yourself of all these advantages; you lose without hope of any gain; you give without hope of any return, and you imitate foolishly the noble deeds of us anchorites, as an impudent monkey thinks, by smearing a wall, to copy the picture of a clever artist. What, then, are your reasons, O most besotted of men?"
Paphnutius spoke with violence and indignation, but the old man remained unmoved.
"Friend," he replied, gently, "what matter the reasons of a dog sleeping in the dirt or a mischievous ape?"
Paphnutius' only aim was the glory of God. His anger vanished, and he apologised with noble humility.
"Pardon me, old man, my brother," he said, "if zeal for the truth has carried me beyond proper bounds. God is my witness, that it is thy errors and not thyself that