exclaiming, "At the shop of the fat cook--Philemon--in the street of
Herakleotis." But he broke off, and cried with an impulse of shame, "It
were better that I should cease telling of my past life. The day does not
dawn yet, and you must try to sleep."

"I cannot sleep," sighed Stephanus; "if you love me go on with your
story."

"But do not interrupt me again then," said Paulus, and he went on: "With
all this gay life I was not happy--by no means. When I was alone
sometimes, and no longer sitting in the crowd of merry boon-companions
and complaisant wenches, emptying the wine cup and crowned with poplar, I
often felt as if I were walking on the brink of a dark abyss as if every
thing in myself and around me were utterly hollow and empty. I could
stand gazing for hours at the sea, and as the waves rose only to sink
again and vanish, I often reflected that I was like them, and that the
future of my frivolous present must be a mere empty nothing. Our gods
were of little account with us. My mother sacrificed now in one temple,
and now in another, according to the needs of the moment; my father took
part in the high festivals, but he laughed at the belief of the
multitude, and my brother talked of the 'Primaeval Unity,' and dealt with
all sorts of demons, and magic formulas. He accepted the doctrine of
Iamblichus, Ablavius, and the other Neoplatonic philosophers, which to my
poor understanding seemed either superhumanly profound or else debasingly
foolish; nevertheless my memory retains many of his sayings, which I have
learned to understand here in my loneliness. It is vain to seek reason
outside ourselves; the highest to which we can attain is for reason to
behold itself in us! As often as the world sinks into nothingness in my
soul, and I live in God only, and have Him, and comprehend Him, and feel
Him only--then that doctrine recurs to me. How all these fools sought and
listened everywhere for the truth which was being proclaimed in their
very ears! There were Christians everywhere about me, and at that time
they had no need to conceal themselves, but I had nothing to do with
them. Twice only did they cross my path; once I was not a little annoyed
when, on the Hippodrome, a Christian's horses which had been blessed by a
Nazarite, beat mine; and on another occasion it seemed strange to me when
I myself received the blessing of an old Christian dock-laborer, having
pulled his son out of the water.

"Years went on; my par