Julian is declared emperor by the legions of Gaul—His march and success—The death of Constantius—Civil Administration of Julian
The jealousy of Constantius against Julian.
While the Romans languished under the ignominious tyranny of
eunuchs and bishops, the praises of Julian were repeated
with transport in every part of the empire, except in the
palace of Constantius. The barbarians of Germany had felt,
and still dreaded, the arms of the young Caesar; his
soldiers were the companions of his victory; the grateful
provincials enjoyed the blessings of his reign; but the
favourites, who had opposed his elevation, were offended by
his virtues; and they justly considered the friend of the
people as the enemy of the court. As long as the fame of
Julian was doubtful, the buffoons of the palace, who were
skilled in the language of satire, tried the efficacy of
those arts which they had so often practised with success.
They easily discovered that his simplicity was not exempt
from affectation: the ridiculous epithets of an hairy
savage, of an ape invested with the purple, were applied to
the dress and person of the philosophic warrior; and his
modest despatches were stigmatised as the vain and elaborate
fictions of a loquacious Greek, a speculative soldier, who
had studied the art of war amidst the groves of the Academy.
(1) The voice of malicious folly was at length silenced by the shouts of victory; the conqueror of the Franks and Alemanni could no longer be painted as an object of contempt; and the
monarch himself was meanly ambitious of stealing from his
lieutenant the honourable reward of his labours. In the
letters crowned with laurel, which, according to ancient
custom, were addressed to the provinces, the name of Julian
was omitted.
"Constantius had made his dispositions in person; he had signalised his valour in the foremost ranks; his military conduct had secured the victory; and the captive king of the barbarians was presented to him on the field of battle,"
from which he was at that time distant above forty days' journey. (2) So extravagant a fable was incapable, however, of deceiving the public credulity, or even of satisfying the pride of the emperor himself. Secretly conscious that the applause and favour of the Romans accompanied the rising fortunes of Julian, his discontented mind was prepared to receive the subtle poison of those artful sycophants who coloured their mischievous designs with the fairest appearances of truth and candour. (3) Instead of depreciating the merits of Julian, they acknowledged, and even exaggerated, his popular fame, superior talents, and important services. But they darkly insinuated that the virtues of the Caesar might instantly be converted into the most dangerous crimes, if the inconstant multitude should prefer their inclinations to their duty; or if the general of a victorious army should be tempted from his allegiance by the hopes of revenge and independent greatness. Fears and envy of Constantius. The personal fears of Constantius were interpreted by his council as a laudable anxiety for the public safety; whilst in private, and perhaps in his own breast, he disguised, under the less odious appellation of fear, the sentiments of hatred and envy which he had secretly conceived for the inimitable virtues of Julian.
The legions of Gaul are ordered to march into the East. A.D. 360, April
T
he apparent tranquillity of Gaul, and the imminent danger
of the eastern provinces, offered a specious pretence for
the design which was artfully concerted by the Imperial
ministers. They resolved to disarm the Caesar; to recall
those faithful troops who guarded his person and dignity;
and to employ, in a distant war against the Persian monarch,
the hardy veterans who had vanquished, on the banks of the
Rhine, the fiercest nations of Germany. While Julian used
the laborious hours of his winter quarters at Paris in the
administration of power, which, in his hands, was the
exercise of virtue, he was surprised by the hasty arrival of
a tribune and a notary, with positive orders from the
emperor, which they were directed to execute, and he was
commanded not to oppose. Constantius signified his pleasure
that four entire legions—the Celtae and Petulants, the
Heruli and the Batavians—should be separated from the
standard of Julian, under which they had acquired their fame
and discipline; that in each of the remaining bands three
hundred of the bravest youths should be selected and that
this numerous detachment, the strength of the Gallic army,
should instantly begin their march, and exert their utmost
diligence to arrive, before the opening of the campaign, on
the frontiers of Persia. (4) The Caesar foresaw and lamented
the consequences of this fatal mandate. Most of the
auxiliaries, who engaged their voluntary service, had
stipulated that they should never be obliged to pass the
Alps. The public faith of Rome, and the personal honour of
Julian, had been pledged for the observance of this
condition. Such an act of treachery and oppression would
destroy the confidence, and excite the resentment of the
independent warriors of Germany, who considered truth as the
noblest of their virtues, and freedom as the most valuable
of their possessions. The legionaries, who enjoyed the title
and privileges of Romans, were enlisted for the general
defence of the republic; but those mercenary troops heard
with cold indifference the antiquated names of the republic
and of Rome. Attached, either from birth or long habit, to
the climate and manners of Gaul, they loved and admired
Julian; they despised, and perhaps hated, the emperor; they
dreaded the laborious march, the Persian arrows, and the
burning deserts of Asia. They claimed as their own the
country which they had saved; and excused their want of
spirit by pleading the sacred and more immediate duty of
protecting heir families and friends. The apprehensions of
the Gauls were derived from the knowledge of the impending
and inevitable danger. As soon as the provinces were
exhausted of their military strength, the Germans would
violate a treaty which had been imposed on their fears; and
notwithstanding the abilities and valour of Julian, the
general of a nominal army, to whom the public calamities
would be imputed, must find himself, after a vain
resistance, either a prisoner in the camp of the barbarians,
or a criminal in the palace of Constantius. If Julian
complied with the orders which he had received he subscribed
to his own destruction, and that of a people who deserved
his affection. But a positive refusal was an act of
rebellion and a declaration of war. The inexorable jealousy
of the emperor, the peremptory, and perhaps insidious,
nature of his commands, left not any room for a fair apology
or candid interpretation; and the dependent station of the
Caesar scarcely allowed him to pause or to deliberate.
Solitude increased the perplexity of Julian; he could no
longer apply to the faithful counsels of Sallust, who had
been removed from his office by the judicious malice of the
eunuchs: he could not even enforce his representations by
the concurrence of the ministers, who would have been afraid
or ashamed to approve the ruin of Gaul. The moment had been
chosen when Lupicinus, (5) the general of the cavalry, was
despatched into Britain, to repulse the inroads of the Scots
and Picts; and Florentius was occupied at Vienne by the
assessment of the tribute. The latter, a crafty and corrupt
statesman, declining to assume a responsible part on this
dangerous occasion, eluded the pressing and repeated
invitations of Julian, who represented to him that in every
important measure the presence of the praefect was
indispensable in the council of the prince. In the meanwhile
the Caesar was oppressed by the rude and importunate
solicitations of the Imperial messengers, who presumed to
suggest that, if he expected the return of his ministers, he
could charge himself with the guilt of the delay, and
reserve for them the merit of the execution. Unable to
resist, unwilling to comply, Julian expressed in the most
serious terms his wish, and even his intention, of resigning
the purple, which he could not preserve with honour, but
which he could not abdicate with safety.
Their discontents
After a painful conflict, Julian was compelled to
acknowledge that obedience was the virtue of the most
eminent subject, and that the sovereign alone was entitled
to judge of the public welfare. He issued the necessary
orders for carrying into execution the commands of
Constantius; a part of the troops began their march for the
Alps; and the detachments from the several garrisons moved
towards their respective places of assembly. They advanced
with difficulty through the trembling and affrighted crowds
of provincials, who attempted to excite their pity by silent
despair or loud lamentations; while the wives of the
soldiers, holding their infants in their arms, accused the
desertion of their husbands in the mixed language of grief,
of tenderness, and of indignation. This scene of general
distress afflicted the humanity of the Caesar; he granted a
sufficient number of post-waggons to transport the wives and
families of the soldiers, (6) endeavoured to alleviate the
hardships which he was constrained to inflict, and increased
by the most laudable arts his own popularity and the
discontent of the exiled troops. The grief of an armed
multitude is soon converted into rage, their licentious
murmurs, which every hour were communicated from tent to
tent with more boldness and effect, prepared their minds for
the most daring acts of sedition; and by the connivance of
their tribunes a seasonable libel was secretly dispersed,
which painted in lively colours the disgrace of the Caesar,
the oppression of the Gallic army, and the feeble vices of
the tyrant of Asia. The servants of Constantius were
astonished and alarmed by the progress of this dangerous
spirit. They pressed the Caesar to hasten the departure of
the troops; but they imprudently rejected the honest and
judicious advice of Julian, who proposed that they should
not march through Paris, and suggested the danger and
temptation of a last interview.
They proclaim Julian emperor.
As soon as the approach of the troops was announced, the
Caesar went out to meet them, and ascended his tribunal,
which had been erected in a plain before the gates of the
city. After distinguishing the officers and soldiers who by
their rank or merit deserved a peculiar attention, Julian
addressed himself in a studied oration to the surrounding
multitude: he celebrated their exploits with grateful
applause; encouraged them to accept, with alacrity, the
honour of serving under the eyes of a powerful and liberal
monarch; and admonished them that the commands of Augustus
required an instant and cheerful obedience. The soldiers,
who were apprehensive of offending their general by an
indecent clamour, or of belying their sentiments by false
and venal acclamations, maintained an obstinate silence;
and, after a short pause, were dismissed to their quarters.
The principal officers were entertained by the Caesar, who
professed, in the warmest language of friendship, his desire
and his inability to reward, according to their deserts, the
brave companions of his victories. They retired from the
feast full of grief and perplexity; and lamented the
hardship of their fate, which tore them from their beloved
general and their native country. The only expedient which
could prevent their separation was boldly agitated and
approved, the popular resentment was insensibly moulded into
a regular conspiracy; their just reasons of complaint were
heightened by passion, and their passions were inflamed by
wine, as on the eve of their departure the troops were
indulged in licentious festivity. At the hour of midnight
the impetuous multitude, with swords, and bows, and torches
in their hands, rushed into the suburbs, encompassed the
palace;(7) and, careless of future dangers, pronounced the
fatal and irrevocable words, JULIAN AUGUSTUS! The prince,
whose anxious suspense was interrupted by their disorderly
acclamations, secured the doors against their intrusion;
and, as long as it was in his power, secluded his person and
dignity from the accidents of a nocturnal tumult. At the
dawn of day the soldiers, whose zeal was irritated by
opposition, forcibly entered the palace, seized, with
respectful violence, the object of their choice, guarded
Julian with drawn swords through the streets of Paris,
placed him on the tribunal, and with repeated shouts saluted
him as their emperor. Prudence as well as loyalty inculcated
the propriety of resisting their treasonable designs, and of
preparing for his oppressed virtue the excuse of violence.
Addressing himself by turns to the multitude and to
individuals, he sometimes implored their mercy, and
sometimes expressed his indignation; conjured them not to
sully the fame of their immortal victories; ventured to
promise that if they would immediately return to their
allegiance, he would undertake to obtain from the emperor
not only a free and gracious pardon, but even the revocation
of the orders which had excited their resentment. But the
soldiers, who were conscious of their guilt, chose rather to
depend on the gratitude of Julian than on the clemency of
the emperor. Their zeal was insensibly turned into
impatience, and their impatience into rage. The inflexible
Caesar sustained, till the third hour of the day, their
prayers, their reproaches, and their menaces; nor did he
yield till he had been repeatedly assured that, if he wished
to live, he must consent to reign. He was exalted on a
shield in the presence and amidst the unanimous acclamations
of the troops; a rich military collar, which was offered by
chance, supplied the want of a diadem;(8) the ceremony was
concluded by the promise of a moderate donative;(9) and the
new emperor, overwhelmed with real or affected grief,
retired into the most secret recesses of his apartment.(10)
His protestations of innocence .
The grief of Julian could proceed only from his innocence;
but his innocence must appear extremely doubtful(11) in the
eyes of those who have learned to suspect the motives and
the professions of princes. His lively and active mind was
susceptible of the various impressions of hope and fear, of
gratitude and revenge, of duty and of ambition, of the love
of fame and of the fear of reproach. But it is impossible
for us to calculate the respective weight and operation of
these sentiments; or to ascertain the principles of action
which might escape the observation, while they guided, or
rather impelled, the steps of Julian himself. The discontent
of the troops was produced by the malice of his enemies;
their tumult was the natural effect of interest and of
passion; and if Julian had tried to conceal a deep design
under the appearances of chance, he must have employed the
most consummate artifice without necessity, and probably
without success. He solemnly declares, in the presence of
Jupiter, of the Sun, of Mars, of Minerva, and of all the
other deities, that till the close of the evening which
preceded his elevation he was utterly ignorant of the
designs of the soldiers; (12) and it may seem ungenerous to
distrust the honour of a hero, and the truth of a
philosopher. Yet the superstitious confidence that
Constantius was the enemy, and that he himself was the
favourite, of the gods, might prompt him to desire, to
solicit, and even to hasten the auspicious moment of his
reign, which was predestined to restore the ancient religion
of mankind. When Julian had received the intelligence of the
conspiracy, he resigned himself to a short slumber; and
afterwards related to his friends that he had seen the
Genius of the empire waiting with some impatience at his
door, pressing for admittance, and reproaching his want of
spirit and ambition. (13) Astonished and perplexed, he
addressed his prayers to the great Jupiter, who immediately
signified, by a clear and manifest omen, that he should
submit to the will of heaven and of the army. The conduct
which disclaims the ordinary maxims of reason excites our
suspicion and eludes our inquiry. Whenever the spirit of
fanaticism, at once so credulous and so crafty, has
insinuated itself into a noble mind, it insensibly corrodes
the vital principles of virtue and veracity.
His envoy to Constantius.
To moderate the zeal of his party, to protect the persons of
his enemies, (14) to defeat and to despise the secret
enterprises which were formed against his life and dignity,
were the cares which employed the first days of the reign of
the new emperor. Although he was firmly resolved to maintain
the station which he had assumed, he was still desirous of
saving his country from the calamities of civil war, of
declining a contest with the superior forces of Constantius,
and of preserving his own character from the reproach of
perfidy and ingratitude. Adorned with the designs of
military and imperial pomp, Julian showed himself in the
field of Mars to the soldiers, who glowed with ardent
enthusiasm in the cause of their pupil, their leader, and
their friend. He recapitulated their victories, lamented
their sufferings, applauded their resolution, animated their
hopes, and checked their impetuosity; nor did he dismiss the
assembly till he had obtained a solemn promise from the
troops that, if the emperor of the East would subscribe an
equitable treaty, they would renounce any views of conquest,
and satisfy themselves with the tranquil possession of the
Gallic provinces. On this foundation he composed, in his own
name, and in that of the army, a specious and moderate
epistle,(15) which was delivered to Pentadius, his master of
the offices, and to his chamberlain Eutherius; two
ambassadors whom he appointed to receive the answer and
observe the dispositions of Constantius. This epistle is
inscribed with the modest appellation of Caesar; but Julian
solicits in a peremptory, though respectful manner, the
confirmation of the title of Augustus. He acknowledges the
irregularity of his own election, while he justifies in some
measure, the resentment and violence of the troops which had
extorted his reluctant consent. He allows the supremacy of
his brother Constantius; and engages to send him an annual
present of Spanish horses, to recruit his army with a select
number of barbarian youths, and to accept from his choice a
Praetorian praefect of approved discretion and fidelity. But
he reserves for himself the nomination of his other civil
and military officers, with the troops, the revenue, and the
sovereignty of the provinces beyond the Alps. He admonishes
the emperor to consult the dictates of justice; to distrust
the arts of those venal flatterers who subsist only by the
discord of princes; and to embrace the offer of a fair and
honourable treaty, equally advantageous to the republic and
to the house of Constantine. In this negotiation Julian
claimed no more than he already possessed. The delegated
authority which he had long exercised over the provinces of
Gaul, Spain, and Britain, was still obeyed under a name more
independent and august. The soldiers and the people rejoiced
in revolution which was not stained even with the blood of
the guilty. Florentius was a fugitive; Lupicinus a prisoner.
The persons who were disaffected to the new government were
disarmed and secured; and the vacant offices were
distributed, according to the recommendation of merit, by a
prince who despised the intrigues of the palace and the
clamours of the soldiers.(16)
His fourth and fifth expedition beyond the Rhine. A.D. 360,361.
The negotiations of peace were accompanied and supported by
the most vigorous preparations for war. The army, which
Julian held in readiness for immediate action, was recruited
and augmented by the disorders of the times. The cruel
persecution of the faction of Magnentius had filled Gaul
with numerous bands of outlaws and robbers. They cheerfully
accepted the offer of a general pardon from a prince whom
they could trust, submitted to the restraints of military
discipline, and retained only their implacable hatred to the
person and government of Constantius. (17) As soon as the
season of the year permitted Julian to take the field, he
appeared at the head of his legions; threw a bridge over the
Rhine in the neighbourhood of Cleves; and prepared to
chastise the perfidy of the Attuarii, a tribe of Franks, who
presumed that they might ravage with impunity the frontiers
of a divided empire. The difficulty, as well as glory, of
this enterprise consisted in a laborious march; and Julian
had conquered, as soon as he could penetrate into, a country
which former princes had considered as inaccessible. After
he had given peace to the barbarians, the emperor carefully
visited the fortifications along the Rhine from Cleves to
Basel; surveyed, with peculiar attention, the territories
which he had recovered from the hands of the Alemanni;
passed through Besancon,(18) which had severely suffered from
their fury; and fixed his headquarters at Vienne for the
ensuing winter. The barrier of Gaul was improved and
strengthened with additional fortifications; and Julian
entertained some hopes that the Germans, whom he had so
often vanquished, might, in his absence, be restrained by
the terror of his name. Vadomair(19) was the only prince of
the Alemanni whom he esteemed or feared; and while the
subtle barbarian affected to observe the faith of treaties,
the progress of his arms threatened the state with an
unseasonable and dangerous war. The policy of Julian
condescended to surprise the prince of the Alemanni by his
own arts: and Vadomair, who, in the character of a friend,
had incautiously accepted an invitation from the Roman
governors, was seized in the midst of the entertainment, and
sent away prisoner into the heart of Spain. Before the
barbarians were recovered from their amazement, the emperor
appeared in arms on the banks of the Rhine, and, once more
crossing the river, renewed the deep impressions of terror
and respect which had been already made by four preceding
expeditions.(20)
Fruitless treaty and declaration of war, A.D. 361.
The ambassadors of Julian had been instructed to execute
with the utmost diligence their important commission. But in
their passage through Italy and Illyricum they were detained
by the tedious and affected delays of the provincial
governors; they were conducted by slow journeys from
Constantinople to Caesarea in Cappadocia; and when at length
they were admitted to the presence of Constantius, they
found that he had already conceived, from the despatches of
his own officers, the most unfavourable opinion of the
conduct of Julian and of the Gallic army. The letters were
heard with impatience; the trembling messengers were
dismissed with indignation and contempt; and the looks, the
gestures, the furious language of the monarch, expressed the
disorder of his soul. The domestic connection, which might
have reconciled the brother and the husband of Helena, was
recently dissolved by the death of that princess, whose
pregnancy had been several times fruitless, and was at last
fatal to herself. (21) The empress Eusebia had preserved, to
the last moment of her life, the warm, and even jealous,
affection which she had conceived for Julian; and her mild
influence might have moderated the resentment of a prince
who, since her death, was abandoned to his own passions, and
to the arts of his eunuchs. But the terror of a foreign
invasion obliged him to suspend the punishment of a private
enemy; he continued his march towards the confines of
Persia, and thought it sufficient to signify the conditions
which might entitle Julian and his guilty followers to the
clemency of their offended sovereign. He required that the
presumptuous Caesar should expressly renounce the
appellation and rank of Augustus which he had accepted from
the rebels; that he should descend to his former station of
a limited and dependent minister; that he should vest the
powers of the state and army in the hands of those officers
who were appointed by the Imperial court; and that he should
trust his safety to the assurances of pardon, which were
announced by Epictetus, a Gallic bishop, and one of the
Arian favourites of Constantius. Several months were
ineffectually consumed in a treaty which was negotiated at
the distance of three thousand miles between Paris and
Antioch; and, as soon as Julian perceived that his moderate
and respectful behaviour served only to irritate the pride
of an implacable adversary, he boldly resolved to commit his
life and fortune to the chance of a civil war. He gave a
public and military audience to the quaestor Leonas: the
haughty epistle of Constantius was read to the attentive
multitude; and Julian protested, with the most flattering
deference, that he was ready to resign the title of
Augustus, if he could obtain the consent of those whom he
acknowledged as the authors of his elevation. The faint
proposal was impetuously silenced; and the acclamations of
"Julian Augustus, continue to reign, by the authority of the army, of the people, of the republic which you have saved,"
thundered at once from every part of the field, and terrified the pale ambassador of Constantius. A part of the letter was afterwards read, in which the emperor arraigned the ingratitude of Julian, whom he had invested with the honours of the purple; whom he had educated with so much care and tenderness; whom he had preserved in his infancy, when he was left a helpless orphan.
"An orphan!" interrupted Julian, who justified his cause by indulging his passions, "does the assassin of my family reproach me that I was left an orphan? He urges me to revenge those injuries which I have long studied to forget."
The assembly was dismissed; and Leonas, who with some difficulty had been protected from the popular fury, was sent back to his master with an epistle in which Julian expressed, in a strain of the most vehement eloquence, the sentiments of contempt, of hatred, and of resentment, which had been suppressed and embittered by the dissimulation of twenty years. After this message, which might be considered as a signal of irreconcilable war, Julian, who some weeks before had celebrated the Christian festival of the Epiphany, (22) made a public declaration that he committed the care of his safety to the IMMORTAL GODS; and thus publicly renounced the religion as well as the friendship of Constantius. (23)
Julian prepares to attack Constantius.
The situation of Julian required a vigorous and immediate
resolution. He had discovered from intercepted letters that
his adversary, sacrificing the interest of the state to that
of the monarch, had again excited the barbarians to invade
the provinces of the West. The position of two magazines,
one of them collected on the banks of the lake of Constance,
the other formed at the foot of the Cottian Alps, seemed to
indicate the march of two armies; and the size of those
magazines, each of which consisted of six hundred thousand
quarters of wheat, or rather flour, (24) was a threatening
evidence of the strength and numbers of the enemy who
prepared to surround him. But the Imperial legions were
still in their distant quarters of Asia; the Danube was
feebly guarded; and if Julian could occupy, by a sudden
incursion, the important provinces of Illyricum, he might
expect that a people of soldiers would resort to his
standard, and that the rich mines of gold and silver would
contribute to the expenses of the civil war. He proposed
this bold enterprise to the assembly of the soldiers;
inspired them with a just confidence in their general, and
in themselves; and exhorted them to maintain their
reputation of being terrible to the enemy, moderate to their
fellow-citizens, and obedient to their officers. His
spirited discourse was received with the loudest
acclamations, and the same troops which had taken up arms
against Constantius, when he summoned them to leave Gaul,
now declared with alacrity that they would follow Julian to
the farthest extremities of Europe or Asia. The oath of
fidelity was administered; and the soldiers, clashing their
shields, and pointing their drawn swords to their throats,
devoted themselves, with horrid imprecations, to the service
of a leader whom they celebrated as the deliverer of Gaul
and the conqueror of the Germans.(25) This solemn engagement,
which seemed to be dictated by affection rather than by
duty, was singly opposed by Nebridius, who had been admitted
to the office of Praetorian praefect. That faithful
minister, alone and unassisted, asserted the rights of
Constantius in the midst of an armed and angry multitude, to
whose fury he had almost fallen an honourable, but useless
sacrifice. After losing one of his hands by the stroke of a
sword, he embraced the knees of the prince whom he had
offended. Julian covered the praefect with his Imperial
mantle, and protecting him from the zeal of his followers,
dismissed him to his own house, with less respect than was
perhaps due to the virtue of an enemy.(26) The high office of
Nebridius was bestowed on Sallust; and the provinces of
Gaul, which were now delivered from the intolerable
oppression of taxes, enjoyed the mild and equitable
administration of the friend of Julian, who was permitted to
practise those virtues which he had instilled into the mind
of his pupil.(27)
His march from the Rhine to Illyricum.
The hopes of Julian depended much less on the number of his
troops than on the celerity of his motions. In the execution
of a daring enterprise he availed himself of every
precaution, as far as prudence could suggest; and where
prudence could no longer accompany his steps, he trusted the
event to valour and to fortune. In the neighbourhood of
Basel he assembled and divided his army.(28) One body, which
consisted of ten thousand men, was directed, under the
command of Nevitta, general of the cavalry, to advance
through the midland parts of Rhaetia and Noricum. A similar
division of troops, under the orders of Jovius and Jovinus,
prepared to follow the oblique course of the highways
through the Alps and the northern confines of Italy. The
instructions to the generals were conceived with energy and
precision: to hasten their march in close and compact
columns, which, according to the disposition of the ground,
might readily be changed into any order of battle; to secure
themselves against the surprises of the night by strong
posts and vigilant guards; to prevent resistance by their
unexpected arrival; to elude examination by their sudden
departure; to spread the opinion of their strength, and the
terror of his name; and to join their sovereign under the
walls of Sirmium. For himself Julian had reserved a more
difficult and extraordinary part. He selected three thousand
brave and active volunteers, resolved, like their leader, to
cast behind them every hope of a retreat; at the head of
this faithful band he fearlessly plunged into the recesses
of the Marcian, or Black Forest, which conceals the sources
of the Danube;(29) and, for many days, the fate of Julian was
unknown to the world. The secrecy of his march, his
diligence, and vigour, surmounted every obstacle; he forced
his way over mountains and morasses, occupied the bridges or
swam the rivers, pursued his direct course (30) without
reflecting whether he traversed the territory of the Romans
or of the barbarians, and at length emerged, between
Ratisbon and Vienna, at the place where he designed to
embark his troops on the Danube. By a well-concerted
stratagem he seized a fleet of light brigantines(31) as it
lay at anchor; secured a supply of coarse provisions
sufficient to satisfy the indelicate, but voracious,
appetite of a Gallic army; and boldly committed himself to
the stream of the Danube. The labours of his mariners, who
plied their oars with incessant diligence, and the steady
continuance of a favourable wind, carried his fleet above
seven hundred miles in eleven days;(32) and he had already
disembarked his troops at Bononia, only nineteen miles from
Sirmium, before his enemies could receive any certain
intelligence that he had left the banks of the Rhine. In the
course of this long and rapid navigation, the mind of Julian
was fixed on the object of his enterprise; and though he
accepted the deputation of some cities, which hastened to
claim the merit of an early submission, he passed before the
hostile stations, which were placed along the river, without
indulging the temptation of signalising a useless and
ill-timed valour. The banks of the Danube were crowded on
either side with spectators, who gazed on the military pomp,
anticipated the importance of the event, and diffused
through the adjacent country the fame of a young hero, who
advanced with more than mortal speed at the head of the
innumerable forces of the West. Lucilian, who, with the rank
of general of the cavalry commanded the military powers of
Illyricum, was alarmed and perplexed by the doubtful
reports, which he could neither reject nor believe. He had
taken some slow and irresolute measures for the purpose of
collecting his troops, when he was surprised by Dagalaiphus,
an active officer, whom Julian, as soon as he landed at
Bononia, had pushed forward with some light infantry. The
captive general, uncertain of his life or death, was hastily
thrown upon a horse, and conducted to the presence of
Julian, who kindly raised him from the ground, and dispelled
the terror and amazement which seemed to stupefy his
faculties. But Lucilian had no sooner recovered his spirits
than he betrayed his want of discretion, by presuming to
admonish his conqueror that he had rashly ventured, with a
handful of men, to expose his person in the midst of his
enemies.
"Reserve for your master Constantius these timid remonstrances," replied Julian, with a smile of contempt; "when I gave you my purple to kiss, I received you not as a counsellor, but as a suppliant."
Conscious that success alone could justify his attempt, and that boldness only could command success, he instantly advanced, at the head of three thousand soldiers, to attack the strongest and most populous city of the Illyrian provinces. As he entered the long suburb of Sirmium, he was received by the joyful acclamations of the army and people, who, crowned with flowers, and holding lighted tapers in their hands, conducted their acknowledged sovereign to the imperial residence. Two days were devoted to the public joy, which was celebrated by the games of the Circus; but, early on the morning of the third day, Julian marched to occupy the narrow pass of Succi, in the defiles of Mount Haemus; which, almost in the midway between Sirmium and Constantinople, separates the provinces of Thrace and Dacia, by an abrupt descent towards the former, and a gentle declivity on the side of the latter. (33) The defence of this important post was intrusted to the brave Nevitta, who, as well as the generals of the Italian division, successfully executed the plan of the march and junction which their master had so ably conceived. (34)
He justifies his cause.
The homage which Julian obtained from the fears or the
inclination of the people extended far beyond the immediate
effect of his arms. (35) The praefectures of Italy and
Illyricum were administered by Taurus and Florentius, who
united that important office with the vain honours of the
consulship; and, as those magistrates had retired with
precipitation to the court of Asia, Julian, who could not
always restrain the levity of his temper, stigmatised their
flight by adding, in all the Acts of the Year, the epithet
of fugitive to the names of the two consuls. The provinces
which had been deserted by their first magistrates
acknowledged the authority of an emperor who, conciliating
the qualities of a soldier with those of a philosopher, was
equally admired in the camps of the Danube and in the cities
of Greece. From his palace, or, more properly, from his
headquarters of Sirmium and Naissus, he distributed to the
principal cities of the empire a laboured apology for his
own conduct; published the secret despatches of Constantius;
and solicited the judgment of mankind between two
competitors, the one of whom had expelled, and the other had
invited, the barbarians. (36) Julian, whose mind was deeply
wounded by the reproach of ingratitude, aspired to maintain,
by argument as well as by arms, the superior merits of his
cause; and to excel not only in the arts of war, but in
those of composition. His epistle to the senate and people
of Athens(37) seems to have been dictated by an elegant
enthusiasm, which prompted him to submit his actions and his
motives to the degenerate Athenians of his own times, with
the same humble deference as if he had been pleading in the
days of Aristides before the tribunal of the Areopagus. His
application to the senate of Rome, which was still permitted
to bestow the titles of imperial power, was agreeable to the
forms of the expiring republic. An assembly was summoned by
Tertullus, praefect of the city; the epistle of Julian was
read and, as he appeared to be master of Italy, his claims were admitted without a dissenting voice. His oblique censure of the innovations of Constantine, and his passionate invective against the vices of Constantius, were heard with less satisfaction; and the senate, as if Julian had been present, unanimously exclaimed, "Respect, we beseech you, the author of your own fortune." (38) An artful expression, which, according to the chance of war, might be differently explained — as a manly reproof of the ingratitude of the usurper or as a flattering confession that a single act of such benefit to the state ought to atone for all the failings of Constantius.
Hostile preparations..
The intelligence of the march and rapid progress of Julian
was speedily transmitted to his rival, who, by the retreat
of Sapor, had obtained some respite from the Persian war.
Disguising the anguish of his soul under the semblance of
contempt, Constantius professed his intention of returning
into Europe, and of giving chase to Julian; for he never
spoke of this military expedition in any other light than
that of a hunting party. (39) In the camp of Hierapolis, in Syria, he communicated this design to his army; slightly mentioned the guilt and rashness, of the Caesar; and
ventured to assure them that, if the mutineers of Gaul
presumed to meet them in the field, they would be unable to
sustain the fire of their eyes and the irresistible weight
of their shout of onset. The speech of the emperor was
received with military applause; and Theodotus, the
president of the council of Hierapolis, requested, with
tears of adulation, that his city might be adorned with the
head of the vanquished rebel. (40) A chosen detachment was
despatched away in post-waggons, to secure, if it were yet
possible, the pass of Succi; the recruits; the horses, the
arms, and the magazines, which had been prepared against
Sapor, were appropriated to the service of the civil war;
and the domestic victories of Constantius inspired his
partisans with the most sanguine assurances of success. The
notary Gaudentius had occupied in his name the provinces of
Africa; the subsistence of Rome was intercepted; and the
distress of Julian was increased by an unexpected event,
which might have been productive of fatal consequences.
Julian had received the submission of two legions and a
cohort of archers who were stationed at Sirmium, but he
suspected, with reason, the fidelity of those troops which
had been distinguished by the emperor; and it was thought
expedient, under the pretence of the exposed state of the
Gallic frontier, to dismiss them from the most important
scene of action. They advanced, with reluctance, as far as
the confines of Italy; but, as they dreaded the length of
the way and the savage fierceness of the Germans, they
resolved, by the instigation of one of their tribunes, to
halt at Aquileia, and to erect the banners of Constantius on
the walls of that impregnable city. The vigilance of Julian
perceived at once the extent of the mischief, and the
necessity of applying an immediate remedy. By his order,
Jovinus led back a part of the army into Italy; and the
siege of Aquileia was formed with diligence and prosecuted
with vigour. But the legionaries, who seemed to have
rejected the yoke of discipline, conducted the defence of
the place with skill and perseverance; invited the rest of
Italy to imitate the example of their courage and loyalty;
and threatened the retreat of Julian, if he should be forced
to yield to the superior numbers of the armies of the East.
(41)
And death of Constantius, A.D. 361, November 30.
But the humanity of Julian was preserved from the cruel
alternative which he pathetically laments of destroying or
of being himself destroyed: and the seasonable death of
Constantius delivered the Roman empire from the calamities
of civil war. The approach of winter could not detain the
monarch at Antioch; and his favourites durst not oppose his
impatient desire of revenge. A slight fever, which was
perhaps occasioned by the agitation of his spirits, was
increased by the fatigues of the journey, and Constantius
was obliged to halt at the little town of Mopsucrene, twelve
miles beyond Tarsus, where he expired, after a short
illness, in the forty-fifth year of his age, and the
twenty-fourth of his reign.(42) His genuine character, which
was composed of pride and weakness, of superstition and
cruelty, has been fully displayed in the preceding narrative
of civil and ecclesiastical events. The long abuse of power
rendered him a considerable object in the eyes of his
contemporaries; but, as personal merit can alone deserve the
notice of posterity, the last of the sons of Constantine may
be dismissed from the world with the remark that he
inherited the defects, without the abilities, of his father.
Before Constantius expired, he is said to have named Julian
for his successor; nor does it seem improbable that his
anxious concern for the fate of a young and tender wife,
whom he left with child, may have prevailed in his last
moments over the harsher passions of hatred and revenge.
Eusebius and his guilty associates made a faint attempt to
prolong the reign of the eunuchs by the election of another
emperor; but their intrigues were rejected with disdain by
an army which now abhorred the thought of civil discord and
two officers of rank were instantly despatched to assure
Julian that every sword in the empire would be drawn for his
service. The military designs of that prince, who had formed
three different attacks against Thrace, were prevented by
this fortunate event. Without shedding the blood of his
fellow-citizens, he escaped the dangers of a doubtful conflict, and acquired the advantages of a complete victory. Impatient to visit the place of his birth and the new capital of the empire, he advanced from Naissus through the
mountains of Haemus and the cities of Thrace. When he reached Heraclea, at the distance of sixty miles, all Constantinople was poured forth to receive him; Julian enters Constantinople, December 11. and he made his triumphal entry amidst the dutiful acclamations of the soldiers, the people, and the senate. An innumerable multitude pressed around him with eager respect, and were perhaps disappointed when they beheld the small stature and simple garb of a hero, whose inexperienced youth had vanquished the barbarians of Germany, and who had now traversed, in a successful career, the whole continent of Europe from the shores of the Atlantic to those of the Bosphorus.(43) A few days afterwards, when the remains of the deceased emperor were landed in the harbour, the subjects of Julian applauded the real or affected humanity of their sovereign. On foot, without his diadem, and clothed in a mourning habit, he accompanied the funeral as far as the church of the Holy Apostles, where the body was deposited: and if these marks of respect may be interpreted as a selfish tribute to the birth and dignity of his Imperial kinsman, the tears of Julian professed to the world that he had forgot the injuries, and remembered only the obligations, which he had received from Constantius.(44) As soon as the legions of Aquileia were assured of the death of the emperor, they opened the gates of the city, and, by the sacrifice of their guilty leaders, obtained an easy pardon from the prudence or lenity of Julian; who, in the thirty-second year of his age, and is acknowledged by the whole empire acquired the undisputed possession of the Roman empire.(45)
His civil government and private life.
Philosophy had instructed Julian to compare the advantages
of action and retirement; but the elevation of his birth and
the accidents of his life never allowed him the freedom of
choice. He might perhaps sincerely have preferred the groves
of the Academy and the society of Athens; but he was
constrained, at first by the will, and afterwards by the
injustice of Constantius, to expose his person and fame to
the dangers of Imperial greatness; and to make himself
accountable to the world and to posterity for the happiness
of millions. (46) Julian recollected with terror the
observation of his master Plato,(47) that the government of
our flocks and herds is always committed to beings of a
superior species; and that the conduct of nations requires
and deserves the celestial powers of the Gods or of the
Genii. From this principle he justly concluded that the man
who presumes to reign should aspire to the perfection of the
divine nature; that he should purify his soul from her
mortal and terrestrial part; that he should extinguish his
appetites, enlighten his understanding, regulate his
passions, and subdue the wild beast which, according to the
lively metaphor of Aristotle,(48) seldom fails to ascend the
throne of a despot. The throne of Julian, which the death of
Constantius fixed on an independent basis, was the seat of
reason, of virtue, and perhaps of vanity. He despised the
honours, renounced the pleasures, and discharged with
incessant diligence the duties of his exalted station: and
there were few among his subjects who would have consented
to relieve him from the weight of the diadem, had they been
obliged to submit their time and their actions to the
rigorous laws which their philosophic emperor imposed on
himself. One of his most intimate friends,(49) who had often shared the frugal simplicity of his table, has remarked that his
light and sparing diet (which was usually of the vegetable
kind) left his mind and body always free and active for the
various and important business of an author, a pontiff, a
magistrate, a general, and a prince. In one and the same day
he gave audience to several ambassadors, and wrote or
dictated a great number of letters to his generals, his
civil magistrates, his private friends, and the different
cities of his dominions. He listened to the memorials which
had been received, considered the subject of the petitions,
and signified his intentions more rapidly than they could be
taken in shorthand by the diligence of his secretaries. He
possessed such flexibility of thought, and such firmness of
attention, that he could employ his hand to write, his ear
to listen, and his voice to dictate; and pursue at once
three several trains of ideas without hesitation, and
without error. While his ministers reposed, the prince flew
with agility from one labour to another; and, after a hasty
dinner, retired into his library till the public business
which he had appointed for the evening summoned him to
interrupt the prosecution of his studies. The supper of the
emperor was still less substantial than the former meal; his
sleep was never clouded by the fumes of indigestion; and,
except in the short interval of a marriage which was the
effect of policy rather than love, the chaste Julian never
shared his bed with a female companion. (50) He was soon
awakened by the entrance of fresh secretaries, who had slept
the preceding day; and his servants were obliged to wait
alternately, while their indefatigable master allowed
himself scarcely any other refreshment than the change of
occupations. The predecessors of Julian, his uncle, his
brother, and his cousin, indulged their puerile taste for
the games of the Circus, under the specious pretence of
complying with the inclinations of the people; and they
frequently remained the greatest part of the day as idle
spectators, and as a part of the splendid spectacle, till
the ordinary round of twenty-four races(51) was completely
finished. On solemn festivals, Julian, who felt and
professed an unfashionable dislike to these frivolous
amusements, condescended to appear in the Circus; and, after
bestowing a careless glance on five or six of the races, he
hastily withdrew with the impatience of a philosopher, who
considered every moment as lost that was not devoted to the
advantage of the public or the improvement of his own mind.
(52) By this avarice of time he seemed to protract the short
duration of his reign; and, if the dates were less securely
ascertained, we should refuse to believe that only sixteen
months elapsed between the death of Constantius and the
departure of his successor for the Persian war. The actions
of Julian can only be preserved by the care of the
historian; but the portion of his voluminous writings which
is still extant remains as a monument of the application, as
well as of the genius, of the emperor. The Misopogon, the
Caesars, several of his orations, and his elaborate work
against the Christian religion, were composed in the long
nights of the two winters, the former of which he passed at
Constantinople, and the latter at Antioch.
Reformation of the palace.
The reformation of the Imperial court was one of the first and most necessary acts of the government of Julian.(53) Soon after his entrance into the palace of Constantinople he had occasion for the service of a barber. An officer, magnificently dressed, immediately presented himself.
"It is a barber," exclaimed the prince, with affected surprise, "that I want, and not a receiver-general of the finances." (54)
He questioned the man concerning the profits of his employment, and was informed that, besides a large salary and some valuable perquisites, he enjoyed a daily allowance for twenty servants and as many horses. A thousand barbers, a thousand cupbearers, a thousand cooks, were distributed in the several offices of luxury; and the number of eunuchs could be compared only with the insects of a summer's day. (55) The monarch who resigned to his subjects the superiority of merit and virtue was distinguished by the oppressive magnificence of his dress, his table, his buildings, and his train. The stately palaces erected by Constantine and his sons were decorated with many-coloured marbles and ornaments of massy gold. The most exquisite dainties were procured to gratify their pride rather than their taste; birds of the most distant climates, fish from the most remote seas, fruits out of their natural season, winter roses, and summer snows. (56) The domestic crowd of the palace surpassed the expense of the legions; yet the smallest part of this costly multitude was subservient to the use, or even to the splendour, of the throne. The monarch was disgraced, and the people was injured, by the creation and sale of an infinite number of obscure and even titular employments; and the most worthless of mankind might purchase the privilege of being maintained, without the necessity of labour, from the public revenue. The waste of an enormous household, the increase of fees and perquisites, which were soon claimed as a lawful debt, and the bribes which they extorted from those who feared their enmity or solicited their favour, suddenly enriched these haughty menials. They abused their fortune, without considering their past or their future condition; and their rapine and venality could be equalled only by the extravagance of their dissipations. Their silken robes were embroidered with gold, their tables were served with delicacy and profusion; the houses which they built for their own use would have covered the farm of an ancient consul; and the most honourable citizens were obliged to dismount from their horses and respectfully to salute an eunuch whom they met on the public highway. The luxury of the palace excited the contempt and indignation of Julian, who usually slept on the ground, who yielded with reluctance to the indispensable calls of nature, and who placed his vanity not in emulating, but in despising the pomp of royalty. By the total extirpation of a mischief which was magnified even beyond its real extent, he was impatient to relieve the distress and to appease the murmurs of the people, who support with less uneasiness the weight of taxes if they are convinced that the fruits of their industry are appropriated to the service of the state. But in the execution of this salutary work Julian is accused of proceeding with too much haste and inconsiderable severity. By a single edict he reduced the palace of Constantinople to an immense desert, and dismissed with ignominy the whole train of slaves and dependents,(57) without providing any just, or at least benevolent, exceptions for the age, the services, or the poverty of the faithful domestics of the Imperial family. Such indeed was the temper of Julian, who seldom recollected the fundamental maxim of Aristotle, that true virtue is placed at an equal distance between the opposite vices. The splendid and effeminate dress of the Asiatics, the curls and paint, the collars and bracelets, which had appeared so ridiculous in the person of Constantine, were consistently rejected by his philosophic successor. But with the fopperies Julian affected to renounce the decencies of dress; and seemed to value himself for his neglect of the laws of cleanliness. In a satirical performance, which was designed for the public eye, the emperor descants with pleasure, and even with pride, on the length of his nails and the inky blackness of his hands; protests that although the greatest part of his body was covered with hair, the use of the razor was confined to his head alone; and celebrates with visible complacency the shaggy and populous (58) beard which he fondly cherished, after the example of the philosophers of Greece. Had Julian consulted the simple dictates of reason, the first magistrate of the Romans would have scorned the affectation of Diogenes, as well as that of Darius.
Chamber of justice.
But the work of public reformation would have remained imperfect if Julian had only corrected the abuses, without punishing the crimes, of his predecessor's reign.
"We are now delivered," says he, in a familiar letter to one of his intimate friends, "we are now surprisingly delivered from the voracious jaws of the Hydra. (59) I do not mean to apply that epithet to my brother Constantius. He is no more; may the earth lie light on his head! But his artful and cruel favourites studied to deceive and exasperate a prince whose natural mildness cannot be praised without some efforts of adulation. It is not, however, my intention that even those men should be oppressed: they are accused, and they shall enjoy the benefit of a fair and impartial trial."
To conduct this inquiry, Julian named six judges of the highest rank in the state and army, and, as he wished to escape the reproach of condemning his personal enemies, he fixed this extraordinary tribunal at Chalcedon, on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorous, and transferred to the commissioners an absolute power to pronounce and execute their final sentence, without delay and without appeal. The office of president was exercised by the venerable praefect of the East, a second Sallust, (60) whose virtues conciliated the esteem of Greek sophists and of Christian bishops. He was assisted by the eloquent Mamertinus,(61) one of the consuls elect, whose merit is loudly celebrated by the doubtful evidence of his own applause. But the civil wisdom of two magistrates was overbalanced by the ferocious violence of four generals, Nevitta, Agilo, Jovinus, and Arbetio. Arbetio, whom the public would have seen with less surprise at the bar than on the bench, was supposed to possess the secret of the commission, the armed and angry leaders of the Jovian and Herculian bands encompassed the tribunal, and the judges were alternately swayed by the laws of justice and by the clamours of faction. (62)
Punishment of the innocent and the guilty.
The chamberlain Eusebius, who had so long abused the favour
of Constantius, expiated, by an ignominious death, the
insolence, the corruption, and cruelty of his servile reign.
The executions of Paul and Apodemius (the former of whom was
burnt alive) were accepted as an inadequate atonement by the
widows and orphans of so many hundred Romans whom those
legal tyrants had betrayed and murdered. But Justice herself
(if we may use the pathetic expression of Ammianus(63) )
appeared to weep over the fate of Ursulus, the treasurer of
the empire, and his blood accused the ingratitude of Julian,
whose distress had been seasonably relieved by the intrepid
liberality of that honest minister. The rage of the
soldiers, whom he had provoked by his indiscretion, was the
cause and the excuse of his death; and the emperor, deeply
wounded by his own reproaches and those of the public,
offered some consolation to the family of Ursulus by the
restitution of his confiscated fortunes. Before the end of
the year in which they had been adorned with the ensigns of
the prefecture and consulship,(64) Taurus and Florentius were
reduced to implore the clemency of the inexorable tribunal
of Chalcedon. The former was banished to Vercellae in Italy,
and a sentence of death was pronounced against the latter. A
wise prince should have rewarded the crime of Taurus: the
faithful minister, when he was no longer able to oppose the
progress of a rebel, had taken refuge in the court of his
benefactor and his lawful sovereign. But the guilt of
Florentius justified the severity of the judges, and his
escape served to display the magnanimity of Julian, who
nobly checked the interested diligence of an informer, and
refused to learn what place concealed the wretched fugitive
from his just resentment.(65) Some months after the tribunal
of Chalcedon had been dissolved, the praetorian vicegerent
of Africa, the notary Gaudentius, and Artemius,(66) duke of
Egypt, were executed at Antioch. Artemius had reigned the
cruel and corrupt tyrant of a great province; Gaudentius had
long practised the arts of calumny against the innocent, the
virtuous, and even the person of Julian himself. Yet the
circumstances of their trial and condemnation were so
unskilfully managed that these wicked men obtained, in the
public opinion, the glory of suffering for the obstinate
loyalty with which they had supported the cause of
Constantius. The rest of his servants were protected by a
general act of oblivion, and they were left to enjoy with
impunity the bribes which they had accepted either to defend
the oppressed or to oppress the friendless. This measure,
which, on the soundest principles of policy, may deserve our
approbation, was executed in a manner which seemed to
degrade the majesty of the throne. Julian was tormented by
the importunities of a multitude, particularly of Egyptians,
who loudly redemanded the gifts which they had imprudently
or illegally bestowed; he foresaw the endless prosecution of
vexatious suits, and he engaged a promise, which ought
always to have been sacred, that if they would repair to
Chalcedon, he would meet them in person, to hear and
determine their complaints. But as soon as they were landed,
he issued an absolute order, which prohibited the watermen
from transporting any Egyptian to Constantinople, and thus
detained his disappointed clients on the Asiatic shore,
till, their patience and money being utterly exhausted, they
were obliged to return with indignant murmurs to their
native country. (67)
Clemency of Julian.
The numerous army of spies, of agents, and informers,
enlisted by Constantius to secure the repose of one man, and
to interrupt that of millions, was immediately disbanded by
his generous successor. Julian was slow in his suspicions,
and gentle in his punishments, and his contempt of treason
was the result of judgment, of vanity, and of courage.
Conscious of superior merit, he was persuaded that few among
his subjects would dare to meet him in the field, to attempt
his life, or even to seat themselves on his vacant throne.
The philosopher could excuse the hasty sallies of
discontent, and the hero could despise the ambitious
projects which surpassed the fortune or the abilities of the
rash conspirators. A citizen of Ancyra had prepared for his
own use a purple garment, and this indiscreet action, which,
under the reign of Constantius, would have been considered
as a capital offence, (68) was reported to Julian by the
officious importunity of a private enemy. The monarch, after
making some inquiry into the rank and character of his
rival, despatched the informer with a present of a pair of
purple slippers, to complete the magnificence of his
Imperial habit. A more dangerous conspiracy was formed by
ten of the domestic guards, who had resolved to assassinate
Julian in the field of exercise near Antioch. Their
intemperance revealed their guilt, and they were conducted
in chains to the presence of their injured sovereign, who,
after a lively representation of the wickedness and folly of
their enterprise, instead of a death of torture, which they
deserved and expected, pronounced a sentence of exile
against the two principal offenders. The only instance in
which Julian seemed to depart from his accustomed clemency
was the execution of a rash youth, who, with a feeble hand,
had aspired to seize the reins of empire. But that youth was
the son of Marcellus, the general of cavalry, who, in the
first campaign of the Gallic war, had deserted the standard
of the Caesar and the republic. Without appearing to indulge
his personal resentment, Julian might easily confound the
crime of the son and of the father; but he was reconciled by
the distress of Marcellus, and the liberality of the emperor
endeavoured to heal the wound which had been inflicted by
the hand of justice.(69)
His love of freedom, and the republic.
Julian was not insensible of the advantages of freedom.(70)
From his studies he had imbibed the spirit of ancient sages
and heroes; his life and fortunes had depended on the
caprice of a tyrant; and, when he ascended the throne, his
pride was sometimes mortified by the reflection that the
slaves who would not dare to censure his defects were not
worthy to applaud his virtues.(71) He sincerely abhorred the
system of oriental despotism which Diocletian, Constantine,
and the patient habits of four score years, had established
in the empire. A motive of superstition prevented the
execution of the design which Julian had frequently
meditated, of relieving his head from the weight of a costly
diadem;(72) but he absolutely refused the title of Dominus
or Lord ,(73) a word which was grown so familiar to the ears of the Romans, that they no longer remembered its servile
and humiliating origin. The office, or rather the name, of
consul was cherished by a prince who contemplated with
reverence the ruins of the republic; and the same behaviour
which had been assumed by the prudence of Augustus was
adopted by Julian from choice and inclination. On the
calends of January, at break of day, the new consuls,
Mamertinus and Nevitta, hastened to the palace to salute the
emperor. As soon as he was informed of their approach, he
leaped from his throne, eagerly advanced to meet them, and
compelled the blushing magistrates to receive the
demonstrations of his affected humility. From the palace
they proceeded to the senate. The emperor, on foot, marched
before their litters, and the gazing multitude admired the
image of ancient times, or secretly blamed a conduct which,
in their eyes, degraded the majesty of the purple.(74) But
the behaviour of Julian was uniformly supported. During the
games of the Circus, he had, imprudently or designedly,
performed the manumission of a slave in the presence of the
consul. The moment he was reminded that he had trespassed on
the jurisdiction of another magistrate, he condemned himself
to pay a fine of ten pounds of gold, and embraced this
public occasion of declaring to the world that he was
subject, like the rest of his fellow-citizens, to the laws,
(75) and even to the forms, of the republic. The spirit of his
administration, and his regard for the place of his
nativity, induced Julian to confer on the senate of
Constantinople the same honours, privileges, and authority
which were still enjoyed by the senate of ancient Rome.(76) A
legal fiction was introduced and gradually established, that
one half of the national council had migrated into the East,
and the despotic successors of Julian, accepting the title
of Senators, acknowledged themselves the members of a
respectable body which was permitted to represent the
majesty of the Roman name. From Constantinople the attention
of the monarch was extended to the municipal senates of the
provinces. He abolished, by repeated edicts, the unjust and
pernicious exemptions which had withdrawn so many idle
citizens from the service of their country; His care of the Graecian cities and by imposing an equal distribution of public duties, he restored the strength, the splendour, or, according to the glowing
expression of Libanius, (77) the soul of the expiring cities of his empire. The venerable age of Greece excited the most tender compassion in the mind of Julian, which kindled into
rapture when he recollected the gods, the heroes, and the men superior to heroes and to gods, who had bequeathed to the latest posterity the monuments of their genius or the example of their virtues. He relieved the distress and
restored the beauty of the cities of Epirus and Peloponnesus.(78) Athens acknowledged him for her benefactor, Argos for her deliverer. The pride of Corinth, again rising
from her ruins with the honours of a Roman colony, exacted a tribute from the adjacent republics for the purpose of defraying the games of the Isthmus, which were celebrated in the amphitheatre with the hunting of bears and panthers. From this tribute the cities of Elis, of Delphi, and of Argos, which had inherited from their remote ancestors the sacred office of perpetuating the Olympic, the Pythian, and the Nemean games, claimed a just exemption The immunity of Elis and Delphi was respected by the Corinthians, but the poverty of Argos tempted the insolence of oppression, and the feeble complaints of its deputies were silenced by the decree of a provincial magistrate, who seems to have consulted only the interest of the capital in which he resided. Seven years after this sentence Julian(79) allowed the cause to be referred to a superior tribunal, and his eloquence was interposed, most probably with success, in the defence of a city which had been the royal seat of
Agamemnon,(80) and had given to Macedonia a race of kings and conquerors.(81)
Julian, an orator and a judge.
The laborious administration of military and civil affairs,
which were multiplied in proportion to the extent of the
empire, exercised the abilities of Julian; but he frequently
assumed the two characters of Orator (82) and of Judge,(83)
which are almost unknown to the modern sovereigns of Europe.
The arts of persuasion, so diligently cultivated by the
first Caesars, were neglected by the military ignorance and
Asiatic pride of their successors, and, if they condescended
to harangue the soldiers, whom they feared, they treated
with silent disdain the senators, whom they despised. The
assemblies of the senate, which Constantius had avoided,
were considered by Julian as the place where he could
exhibit with the most propriety the maxims of a republican
and the talents of a rhetorician. He alternately practised,
as in a school of declamation, the several modes of praise,
of censure, of exhortation; and his friend Libanius has
remarked that the study of Homer taught him to imitate the
simple, concise style of Menelaus, the copiousness of
Nestor, whose words descended like the flakes of a winter's
snow, or the pathetic and forcible eloquence of Ulysses. The
functions of a judge, which are sometimes incompatible with
those of a prince, were exercised by Julian not only as a
duty, but as an amusement; and although he might have
trusted the integrity and discernment of his Braetorian
praefects, he often placed himself by their side on the seat
of judgment. The acute penetration of his mind was agreeably
occupied in detecting and defeating the chicanery of the
advocates, who laboured to disguise the truth of facts and
to pervert the sense of the laws. He sometimes forgot the
gravity of his station, asked indiscreet or unseasonable
questions, and betrayed, by the loudness of his voice and
the agitation of his body, the earnest vehemence with which
he maintained his opinion against the judges, the advocates,
and their clients. But his knowledge of his own temper
prompted him to encourage, and even to solicit, the reproof
of his friends and ministers: and whenever they ventured to
oppose the irregular sallies of his passions, the spectators
could observe the shame as well as the gratitude of their
monarch. The decrees of Julian were almost always founded on
the principles of justice, and he had the firmness to resist
the two most dangerous temptations which assault the
tribunal of a sovereign under the specious forms of
compassion and equity. He decided the merits of the cause
without weighing the circumstances of the parties; and the
poor, whom he wished to relieve, were condemned to satisfy
the just demands of a noble and wealthy adversary. He
carefully distinguished the judge from the legislator;(84)
and though he meditated a necessary reformation of the Roman
jurisprudence, he pronounced sentence according to the
strict and literal interpretation of those laws which the
magistrates were bound to execute and the subjects to obey.
His character.
The generality of princes, if they were stripped of their
purple and cast naked into the world, would immediately sink
to the lowest rank of society, without a hope of emerging
from their obscurity. But the personal merit of Julian was,
in some measure, independent of his fortune. Whatever had
been his choice of life, by the force of intrepid courage,
lively wit, and intense application, he would have obtained,
or at least he would have deserved, the highest honours of
his profession, and Julian might have raised himself to the
rank of minister or general of the state in which he was
born a private citizen. If the jealous caprice of power had
disappointed his expectations; if he had prudently declined
the paths of greatness, the employment of the same talents
in studious solitude would have placed beyond the reach of
kings his present happiness and his immortal fame. When we
inspect with minute, or perhaps malevolent, attention the
portrait of Julian, something seems wanting to the grace and
perfection of the whole figure. His genius was less powerful
and sublime than that of Caesar, nor did he possess the
consummate prudence of Augustus. The virtues of Trajan
appear more steady and natural, and the philosophy of Marcus
is more simple and consistent. Yet Julian sustained
adversity with firmness, and prosperity with moderation.
After an interval of one hundred and twenty years from the
death of Alexander Severus, the Romans beheld an emperor who
made no distinction between his duties and his pleasures,
who laboured to relieve the distress and to revive the
spirit of his subjects, and who endeavoured always to
connect authority with merit, and happiness with virtue.
Even faction, and religious faction, was constrained to
acknowledge the superiority of his genius in peace as well
as in war, and to con fess, with a sigh, that the apostate
Julian was a lover of his country, and that he deserved the
empire of the world.(85)
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