This venerable man, ever since the transactions which he had conducted—­with reference to the thanksgiving of the Christians for the safety of the Emperor after the fire, had been one of the most esteemed friends of Titianus and Julia.  The prefect discussed with the Patriarch the inauspicious effects that the death of the young fellow might be expected to have on the Emperor, and as a result, on the government, although the favorite had had no qualities of mind to distinguish him.

“Whenever Hadrian,” continued Titianus, “would give his unresting brain an hour’s relaxation, and release himself from disappointment and vexation and the severe toil and anxiety of which his life is overfull, he would go out hunting with the bold youth or would have the handsome, good-hearted boy into his own room.  The sight of the Bithynian’s beauty delighted his eye, and how well Antinous knew how to listen to him—­silent, modest and attentive!  Hadrian loved him as a son, and the poor fellow clung to his master in return with more than a son’s fidelity; his death itself proved it.  Caesar himself said to me once; ’In the midst of the turmoil of waking life, when I see Antinous a feeling comes over me as if a beautiful dream stood incorporate before my eyes.’

“Caesar’s grief at losing him must indeed be great,” said the Patriarch.

“And the loss will add to the gloom of his grave and brooding nature, render his restless scheming and wandering still more capricious, and increase his suspiciousness and irritability.”

“And the circumstances under which Antinous perished,” added Eumenes, “will afford new ground for his attachment to superstitions.”

“That is to be feared.  We have not happy days before us; the revolt in Judaea, too, will again cost thousands of lives.”

“If only it had been granted to you to assume the government of that province.”

“But you know, my worthy friend, the condition I am in.  On my bad days I am incapable of commanding a thought or opening my lips.  When my breathlessness increases I feel as if I were being suffocated.  I have placed many decades of my life at the disposal of the state, and I now feel justified in devoting the diminished strength which is left me to other things.  I and my wife think of retiring to my property by lake Larius, and there to try whether we may succeed, she and I, in becoming worthy of the salvation and capable of apprehending the truth that you have offered us.  You are there Julia?  As the determination to retire from the world has matured in us, we have, both of us, remembered more than once the words of the Jewish sage, which you lately told us of.  When the angel of God drove the first man out of Paradise, he said:  ’Henceforth your heart must be your Paradise.’  We are turning our backs on the pleasure of a city life—­”

“And we do so without regret,” said Julia, interrupting her husband, “for we bear in our minds the germ of a more indestructible, purer, and more lasting happiness.”