at he might fall in his sleep, this pious man constructed
a roof and a railing on the top of the column.

Soon the report of this extraordinary existence spread from village to
village, and the labourers of the valley came on Sundays, with their
wives and children, to look at the stylite. The disciples of Paphnutius,
having learned with surprise the place of this wonderful retreat, came
to him, and obtained from him permission to build their huts at the foot
of the column. Every morning they came and stood in a circle round the
master, and received from him the words of instruction.

"My sons," he said to them, "continue like those little children whom
Jesus loved. That is the way of salvation. The sin of the flesh is the
source and origin of all sins; they spring from it as from a parent.
Pride, avarice, idleness, anger, and envy are its dearly beloved
progeny. I have seen this in Alexandria; I have seen rich men carried
away by the vice of lust, which, like a river with a turbid flood, swept
them into the gulf of bitterness."

The abbots Ephrem and Serapion, being informed of his strange
proceeding, wished to behold him with their own eyes. Seeing from
afar, on the river, the triangular sail which was bringing them to him,
Paphnutius could not prevent himself from thinking that God had made him
an example to all solitary monks. The two abbots, when they saw him, did
not conceal their surprise; and, having consulted together, they agreed
in condemning such an extraordinary penance, and exhorted Paphnutius to
come down.

"Such a mode of life is contrary to all usage," they said; "it is
peculiar, and against all rules."

But Paphnutius replied--

"What is the monastic life if not peculiar? And ought not the deeds of
a monk to be as eccentric as he is himself? It was a sign from God
that caused me to ascend here; it is a sign from God that will make me
descend."

Every day religious men came to join the disciples of Paphnutius, and
they built for themselves shelters round the aerial hermitage. Several
of them, to imitate the saint, mounted the ruins of the temple; but,
being reproved by their brethren, and conquered by fatigue, they soon
gave up these attempts.

Pilgrims flocked from all parts. There were some who had come long
distances, and were hungry and thirsty. The idea occurred to a poor
widow of selling fresh water and melons. Against the foot of the column,
behind her bottles of red clay, her cups and h