he soul, are
numberless as those of the divinity. Often they seem strange, but the
initiated very well know that these roads are in accordance to fixed
laws, and that even the most exceptional emotions of the soul may be
traced back to causes which were capable of giving rise to them and to no
others.

Blows hurt, disgrace is a burden, and unjust punishment embitters the
heart, but Paulus' soul had sought and found a way to which these simple
propositions did not apply.

He had been ill-used and contemned, and, though perfectly innocent, ere
he left the oasis he was condemned to the severest penance. As soon as
the bishop had heard from Petrus of all that had happened in his house,
he had sent for Paulus, and as he could answer nothing to the accusation,
he had expelled him from his flock--to which the anchorites
belonged--forbidden him to visit the church on week-days, and declared
that this his sentence should be publicly proclaimed before the assembled
congregation of the believers.

And how did this affect Paulus as he climbed the mountain, lonely and
proscribed?

A fisherman from the little seaport of Pharan, who met him half-way and
exchanged a greeting with him, thought to himself as he looked after him,
"The great graybeard looks as happy as if he had found a treasure." Then
he walked on into the valley with his scaly wares, reminded, as he went,
of his son's expression of face when his wife bore him his first little
one.

Near the watch-tower at the edge of the defile, a party of anchorites
were piling some stones together. They had already heard of the bishop's
sentence on Paulus, the sinner, and they gave him no greeting. He
observed it and was silent, but when they could no longer see him he
laughed to himself and muttered, while he rubbed a weal that the
centurion's whip had left upon his back, "If they think that a Gaul's
cudgel has a pleasant flavor they are mistaken, however I would not
exchange it for a skin of Anthyllan wine; and if they could only know
that at least one of the stripes which torments me is due to each one of
themselves, they would be surprised! But away with pride! How they spat
on Thee, Jesus my Lord, and who am I, and how mildly have they dealt with
me, when I for once have taken on my back another's stripes. Not a drop
of blood was drawn! I wish the old man had hit harder!"

He walked cheerfully forward, and his mind recurred to the centurion's
speech that he could if he lis