“I can see him now,—his countenance handsome, his figure tall, although somewhat stout and broad-shouldered,—and his whole appearance betokening sturdy health and vigour. His eye had a peculiar brightness, such as few men’s possess, and I especially noted it when it assumed, as it did several times, a glare which could not fail to remind me of that of a lion; while, as he uttered his remarks, he threw back his head, bringing out the full proportions of his thick neck. Rough and unrefined in appearance, his voice was remarkable for its gentleness and softness. In those days he had not assumed, as is now the case, that splendour of costume which he has copied from the princes of the East. He carried simply a spear in his hand, as an insignia of his office, and to show that by the spear he had won and intended to keep his Empire. Since then, I hear that he never goes abroad without a helmet bound round with an oriental diadem studded with jewels, that his robe is a purple silk richly embroidered with pearls and flowers worked in gold, while he wears wigs of false hair of various colours, a short beard ornamenting his chin. On this occasion he appeared simply as a victorious general. His refusal to join in the religious ceremonies usual on the occasion so displeased the turbulent populace that they threatened vengeance of all sorts. Some of the most evil disposed proposed to attack the Christians at whose instigation it was supposed the emperor had acted; others dared even to throw stones at the head of his statue.
“When a courtier rushed in, bringing news of the outrage, he smiled, and passing his hand over his face, observed,—‘Truly it is surprising, but I feel not in the least hurt; nothing do I find amiss in my head, nothing in my face.’ Although he had thus received the news so calmly, it created a disgust in his mind, both against the city and religion of Rome, which he has never overcome; and to this day he speaks of Rome—alas! with too much justice—as an ‘idolatrous and abandoned city.’ In spite of the wealth and influence of our bishop, our numbers, compared to that of the population, have continued to be small; and had it not been for the refuge afforded by the subterranean galleries outside the city, the church in Rome during the days of persecution would have been extinguished.”
Jovinian was allowed to pursue his studies at home under such tutors as Amulius recommended.
Many months thus passed away, faster than he could have supposed possible.
Gaius now treated his nephew with apparently perfect confidence, speaking unreservedly to him on matters of all sorts.
Jovinian thus heard much more of what was going on than he otherwise probably would have done. He found that both Gaius and Coecus—although professedly Christians, as were some of the other pontiffs—visited the college frequently, on which occasions discussions were held with closed doors. So great at length became the confidence which Gaius reposed in his nephew, that he invited him frequently to attend these meetings,—extracting a promise, however, that he would not divulge what he heard. On these occasions the pontiffs discussed the plans that had been proposed for maintaining their rank and position in Rome. Those who professed to have become Christians appeared to be and evidently were, on most friendly terms with the idolaters, all being united by a common interest. Their great object was to maintain their college in its integrity.
“We may thus,” observed Coecus one day, when visiting Gaius, “by keeping up our influence over the mass of the people, secure the election of the candidate of whom we approve to the office of bishop or any other dignities of the Church. We may select some of our own brethren, or any other persons whom we deem suitable.”
The plan was universally approved of. Its fruit was to be observed in after years, when the bishops of Rome found themselves controlled by the college of cardinals, the successors of the pontiffs.
Christianity appeared to be making great progress in Rome. Several new churches and basilicas were in course of erection, and even some of the heathen temples were being converted so as to suit the worship of the Christians.
The idolaters generally, however, objected to allow their temples to be so employed. Jovinian was greatly struck by the appearance of the statues which adorned the new places of worship, and he recognised among them some which had undoubtedly been heathen idols. In several of the churches were statues representing the virgin Mary, which had previously acted the parts of Isis, Juno, Venus, or some other goddess; and he could not help remarking that by far the larger number of worshippers bent before these statues and offered them the same respect which they had been accustomed to pay to the heathen goddesses. Among those who met at the college of pontiffs was a visitor who had come from a college long-established at Mount Carmel, where students in the Babylonian worship were instructed: he was said to be learnt in magical science. He spoke, however, of his admiration of the Christian faith, and came, it appeared, to discuss with Coecus and the other pontiffs the possibility of uniting it to the ancient faith without offending the followers of the latter. The idolaters seemed so completely in favour of this proposal that Coecus expressed his confidence that it would succeed.