ook like emigrant ants. They are our brothers, who, like us,
are going to meet Anthony."

When they came to the place of meeting, they saw a magnificent
spectacle. The army of monks extended, in three ranks, in an immense
semicircle. In the first rank stood the old hermits of the desert, cross
in hand, and with long beards that almost touched the ground. The monks,
governed by the abbots Ephrem and Serapion, and also all the cenobites
of the Nile, formed the second line. Behind them appeared the ascetics,
who had come from their distant rocks. Some wore, on their blackened
and dried-up bodies, shapeless rags; others had for their only clothes,
bundles of reeds held together by withies. Many of them were naked, but
God had covered them with a fell of hair as thick as a sheep's fleece.
All held branches of palm; they looked like an emerald rainbow, or they
might have been also compared to the host of the elect--the living walls
of the city of God.

Such perfect order reigned in the assembly, that Paphnutius found,
without difficulty, the monks he governed. He placed himself near them,
after having taken care to hide his face under his hood, that he
might remain unknown, and not disturb them in their pious expectation.
Suddenly, an immense shout arose--

"The saint!" they all cried. "The saint! Behold the great saint, against
whom hell has not prevailed, the well-beloved of God! Our father,
Anthony!"

Then a great silence followed, and every forehead was lowered to the
sand.

From the summit of a dune, in the vast void space, Anthony advanced,
supported by his beloved disciples, Macarius and Amathas. He walked
slowly, but his figure was still upright, and showed the remains of a
superhuman strength. His white beard spread over his broad chest, his
polished skull reflected the rays of sunlight like the forehead of
Moses. The keen gaze of the eagle was in his eyes; the smile of a child
shone on his round cheek. To bless his people, he raised his arms, tired
by a century of marvellous works, and his voice burst forth for the last
time, with the words of love.

"How goodly are thy tents, O Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O Israel!"

Immediately, from one end to the other of the living wall, like a peal
of harmonious thunder, the psalm, "Blessed is the man that feareth the
Lord," broke forth.

Accompanied by Macarius and Amathas, Anthony passed along the ranks of
the old hermits, anchorites, and cenobites. This seer, who