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. Julian
recollected with terror the observation of his master Plato, 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, 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 honors, 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 that philosophic emperor imposed on himself.
One of his most intimate friends, 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 short-hand 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 labor 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. 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
occupation. 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 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 at 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. 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 CÊsars, 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.
The reformation of the Imperial court was one of the first and most
necessary acts of the government of Julian. 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." 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 cup-bearers, 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. 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 colored 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. 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 splendor, 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 labor, 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 favor,
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 honorable citizens were obliged to dismount from
their horses, and respectfully to salute a 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 inconsiderate 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 dependants, 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 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.
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. I do not mean to apply
the epithet to my brother Constantius. He is no more; may the earth lie
light on his head! But his artful and cruel favorites 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 Bosphorus; 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 prÊfect of the East, a second Sallust, whose virtues
conciliated the esteem of Greek sophists, and of Christian bishops. He
was assisted by the eloquent Mamertinus, 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 clamors of faction.
The chamberlain Eusebius, who had so long abused the favor 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 ) 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, Taurus and Florentius were
reduced to implore the clemency of the inexorable tribunal of Chalcedon.
The former was banished to VercellÊ 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. Some months after the tribunal of
Chalcedon had been dissolved, the prÊtorian vicegerent of Africa, the
notary Gaudentius, and Artemius 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 unskillfully
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.
Chapter XXII: Julian Declared Emperor.--Part IV.
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, 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 CÊsar 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 endeavored to
heal the wound which had been inflicted by the hand of justice.
Julian was not insensible of the advantages of freedom. 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. He sincerely abhorred the system of Oriental
despotism, which Diocletian, Constantine, and the patient habits of
fourscore 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; but
he absolutely refused the title of Dominus, or Lord, 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 behavior 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. But the behavior 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, 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 honors,
privileges, and authority, which were still enjoyed by the senate of
ancient Rome. 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 services of their country; and by imposing an equal
distribution of public duties, he restored the strength, the splendor,
or, according to the glowing expression of Libanius, 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 have 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. Athens acknowledged him for her benefactor; Argos, for her
deliverer. The pride of Corinth, again rising from her ruins with the
honors 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 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,
and had given to Macedonia a race of kings and conquerors.
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 and of Judge, which are almost unknown to the modern sovereigns
of Europe. The arts of persuasion, so diligently cultivated by the first
CÊsars, 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 PrÊtorian prÊfects, 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 labored to disguise the
truths 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 wealthy and noble adversary. He carefully distinguished the judge from
the legislator; 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.
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 honors 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 CÊsar; 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
labored to relieve the distress, and to revive the spirit, of his
subjects; and who endeavored 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 confess, with a sigh, that the apostate Julian
was a lover of his country, and that he deserved the empire of the
world.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.--Part I.
The Religion Of Julian.--Universal Toleration.--He Attempts
To Restore And Reform The Pagan Worship--To Rebuild The
Temple Of Jerusalem--His Artful Persecution Of The
Christians.--Mutual Zeal And Injustice.
The character of Apostate has injured the reputation of Julian; and
the enthusiasm which clouded his virtues has exaggerated the real and
apparent magnitude of his faults. Our partial ignorance may represent
him as a philosophic monarch, who studied to protect, with an equal
hand, the religious factions of the empire; and to allay the theological
fever which had inflamed the minds of the people, from the edicts of
Diocletian to the exile of Athanasius. A more accurate view of the
character and conduct of Julian will remove this favorable prepossession
for a prince who did not escape the general contagion of the times. We
enjoy the singular advantage of comparing the pictures which have been
delineated by his fondest admirers and his implacable enemies. The
actions of Julian are faithfully related by a judicious and candid
historian, the impartial spectator of his life and death. The unanimous
evidence of his contemporaries is confirmed by the public and private
declarations of the emperor himself; and his various writings express
the uniform tenor of his religious sentiments, which policy would have
prompted him to dissemble rather than to affect. A devout and sincere
attachment for the gods of Athens and Rome constituted the ruling
passion of Julian; the powers of an enlightened understanding were
betrayed and corrupted by the influence of superstitious prejudice; and
the phantoms which existed only in the mind of the emperor had a real
and pernicious effect on the government of the empire. The vehement zeal
of the Christians, who despised the worship, and overturned the
altars of those fabulous deities, engaged their votary in a state of
irreconcilable hostility with a very numerous party of his subjects;
and he was sometimes tempted by the desire of victory, or the shame of
a repulse, to violate the laws of prudence, and even of justice. The
triumph of the party, which he deserted and opposed, has fixed a stain
of infamy on the name of Julian; and the unsuccessful apostate has been
overwhelmed with a torrent of pious invectives, of which the signal
was given by the sonorous trumpet of Gregory Nazianzen. The interesting
nature of the events which were crowded into the short reign of this
active emperor, deserve a just and circumstantial narrative. His
motives, his counsels, and his actions, as far as they are connected
with the history of religion, will be the subject of the present
chapter.
The cause of his strange and fatal apostasy may be derived from the
early period of his life, when he was left an orphan in the hands of
the murderers of his family. The names of Christ and of Constantius,
the ideas of slavery and of religion, were soon associated in a youthful
imagination, which was susceptible of the most lively impressions. The
care of his infancy was intrusted to Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, who
was related to him on the side of his mother; and till Julian reached
the twentieth year of his age, he received from his Christian preceptors
the education, not of a hero, but of a saint. The emperor, less jealous
of a heavenly than of an earthly crown, contented himself with the
imperfect character of a catechumen, while he bestowed the advantages
of baptism on the nephews of Constantine. They were even admitted to the
inferior offices of the ecclesiastical order; and Julian publicly read
the Holy Scriptures in the church of Nicomedia. The study of religion,
which they assiduously cultivated, appeared to produce the fairest
fruits of faith and devotion. They prayed, they fasted, they distributed
alms to the poor, gifts to the clergy, and oblations to the tombs of
the martyrs; and the splendid monument of St. Mamas, at CÊsarea, was
erected, or at least was undertaken, by the joint labor of Gallus and
Julian. They respectfully conversed with the bishops, who were eminent
for superior sanctity, and solicited the benediction of the monks and
hermits, who had introduced into Cappadocia the voluntary hardships
of the ascetic life. As the two princes advanced towards the years of
manhood, they discovered, in their religious sentiments, the difference
of their characters. The dull and obstinate understanding of Gallus
embraced, with implicit zeal, the doctrines of Christianity; which never
influenced his conduct, or moderated his passions. The mild disposition
of the younger brother was less repugnant to the precepts of the gospel;
and his active curiosity might have been gratified by a theological
system, which explains the mysterious essence of the Deity, and
opens the boundless prospect of invisible and future worlds. But
the independent spirit of Julian refused to yield the passive and
unresisting obedience which was required, in the name of religion, by
the haughty ministers of the church. Their speculative opinions
were imposed as positive laws, and guarded by the terrors of eternal
punishments; but while they prescribed the rigid formulary of the
thoughts, the words, and the actions of the young prince; whilst
they silenced his objections, and severely checked the freedom of his
inquiries, they secretly provoked his impatient genius to disclaim the
authority of his ecclesiastical guides. He was educated in the Lesser
Asia, amidst the scandals of the Arian controversy. The fierce contests
of the Eastern bishops, the incessant alterations of their creeds, and
the profane motives which appeared to actuate their conduct, insensibly
strengthened the prejudice of Julian, that they neither understood nor
believed the religion for which they so fiercely contended. Instead of
listening to the proofs of Christianity with that favorable attention
which adds weight to the most respectable evidence, he heard with
suspicion, and disputed with obstinacy and acuteness, the doctrines for
which he already entertained an invincible aversion. Whenever the young
princes were directed to compose declamations on the subject of the
prevailing controversies, Julian always declared himself the advocate of
Paganism; under the specious excuse that, in the defence of the weaker
cause, his learning and ingenuity might be more advantageously exercised
and displayed.
As soon as Gallus was invested with the honors of the purple, Julian was
permitted to breathe the air of freedom, of literature, and of Paganism.
The crowd of sophists, who were attracted by the taste and liberality of
their royal pupil, had formed a strict alliance between the learning and
the religion of Greece; and the poems of Homer, instead of being admired
as the original productions of human genius, were seriously ascribed
to the heavenly inspiration of Apollo and the muses. The deities of
Olympus, as they are painted by the immortal bard, imprint themselves on
the minds which are the least addicted to superstitious credulity.
Our familiar knowledge of their names and characters, their forms and
attributes, seems to bestow on those airy beings a real and substantial
existence; and the pleasing enchantment produces an imperfect and
momentary assent of the imagination to those fables, which are the most
repugnant to our reason and experience. In the age of Julian, every
circumstance contributed to prolong and fortify the illusion; the
magnificent temples of Greece and Asia; the works of those artists who
had expressed, in painting or in sculpture, the divine conceptions of
the poet; the pomp of festivals and sacrifices; the successful arts of
divination; the popular traditions of oracles and prodigies; and the
ancient practice of two thousand years. The weakness of polytheism
was, in some measure, excused by the moderation of its claims; and the
devotion of the Pagans was not incompatible with the most licentious
scepticism. Instead of an indivisible and regular system, which occupies
the whole extent of the believing mind, the mythology of the Greeks was
composed of a thousand loose and flexible parts, and the servant of the
gods was at liberty to define the degree and measure of his religious
faith. The creed which Julian adopted for his own use was of the largest
dimensions; and, by strange contradiction, he disdained the salutary
yoke of the gospel, whilst he made a voluntary offering of his reason
on the altars of Jupiter and Apollo. One of the orations of Julian is
consecrated to the honor of Cybele, the mother of the gods, who required
from her effeminate priests the bloody sacrifice, so rashly performed
by the madness of the Phrygian boy. The pious emperor condescends to
relate, without a blush, and without a smile, the voyage of the
goddess from the shores of Pergamus to the mouth of the Tyber, and the
stupendous miracle, which convinced the senate and people of Rome that
the lump of clay, which their ambassadors had transported over the seas,
was endowed with life, and sentiment, and divine power. For the truth
of this prodigy he appeals to the public monuments of the city; and
censures, with some acrimony, the sickly and affected taste of those
men, who impertinently derided the sacred traditions of their ancestors.
But the devout philosopher, who sincerely embraced, and warmly
encouraged, the superstition of the people, reserved for himself the
privilege of a liberal interpretation; and silently withdrew from the
foot of the altars into the sanctuary of the temple. The extravagance of
the Grecian mythology proclaimed, with a clear and audible voice, that
the pious inquirer, instead of being scandalized or satisfied with the
literal sense, should diligently explore the occult wisdom, which had
been disguised, by the prudence of antiquity, under the mask of folly
and of fable. The philosophers of the Platonic school, Plotinus,
Porphyry, and the divine Iamblichus, were admired as the most skilful
masters of this allegorical science, which labored to soften and
harmonize the deformed features of Paganism. Julian himself, who was
directed in the mysterious pursuit by ∆desius, the venerable successor
of Iamblichus, aspired to the possession of a treasure, which he
esteemed, if we may credit his solemn asseverations, far above the
empire of the world. It was indeed a treasure, which derived its value
only from opinion; and every artist who flattered himself that he had
extracted the precious ore from the surrounding dross, claimed an equal
right of stamping the name and figure the most agreeable to his peculiar
fancy. The fable of Atys and Cybele had been already explained by
Porphyry; but his labors served only to animate the pious industry of
Julian, who invented and published his own allegory of that ancient and
mystic tale. This freedom of interpretation, which might gratify the
pride of the Platonists, exposed the vanity of their art. Without a
tedious detail, the modern reader could not form a just idea of the
strange allusions, the forced etymologies, the solemn trifling, and
the impenetrable obscurity of these sages, who professed to reveal
the system of the universe. As the traditions of Pagan mythology were
variously related, the sacred interpreters were at liberty to select
the most convenient circumstances; and as they translated an arbitrary
cipher, they could extract from any fable any sense which was adapted to
their favorite system of religion and philosophy. The lascivious form of
a naked Venus was tortured into the discovery of some moral precept, or
some physical truth; and the castration of Atys explained the revolution
of the sun between the tropics, or the separation of the human soul from
vice and error.
The theological system of Julian appears to have contained the sublime
and important principles of natural religion. But as the faith, which is
not founded on revelation, must remain destitute of any firm assurance,
the disciple of Plato imprudently relapsed into the habits of vulgar
superstition; and the popular and philosophic notion of the Deity seems
to have been confounded in the practice, the writings, and even in the
mind of Julian. The pious emperor acknowledged and adored the Eternal
Cause of the universe, to whom he ascribed all the perfections of
an infinite nature, invisible to the eyes and inaccessible to the
understanding, of feeble mortals. The Supreme God had created, or
rather, in the Platonic language, had generated, the gradual succession
of dependent spirits, of gods, of dÊmons, of heroes, and of men; and
every being which derived its existence immediately from the First
Cause, received the inherent gift of immortality. That so precious
an advantage might be lavished upon unworthy objects, the Creator had
intrusted to the skill and power of the inferior gods the office of
forming the human body, and of arranging the beautiful harmony of the
animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms. To the conduct of these
divine ministers he delegated the temporal government of this lower
world; but their imperfect administration is not exempt from discord
or error. The earth and its inhabitants are divided among them, and the
characters of Mars or Minerva, of Mercury or Venus, may be distinctly
traced in the laws and manners of their peculiar votaries. As long as
our immortal souls are confined in a mortal prison, it is our interest,
as well as our duty, to solicit the favor, and to deprecate the wrath,
of the powers of heaven; whose pride is gratified by the devotion
of mankind; and whose grosser parts may be supposed to derive some
nourishment from the fumes of sacrifice. The inferior gods might
sometimes condescend to animate the statues, and to inhabit the temples,
which were dedicated to their honor. They might occasionally visit the
earth, but the heavens were the proper throne and symbol of their glory.
The invariable order of the sun, moon, and stars, was hastily admitted
by Julian, as a proof of their eternal duration; and their eternity was
a sufficient evidence that they were the workmanship, not of an inferior
deity, but of the Omnipotent King. In the system of Platonists, the
visible was a type of the invisible world. The celestial bodies, as they
were informed by a divine spirit, might be considered as the objects
the most worthy of religious worship. The Sun, whose genial influence
pervades and sustains the universe, justly claimed the adoration of
mankind, as the bright representative of the Logos, the lively, the
rational, the beneficent image of the intellectual Father.
In every age, the absence of genuine inspiration is supplied by the
strong illusions of enthusiasm, and the mimic arts of imposture. If,
in the time of Julian, these arts had been practised only by the pagan
priests, for the support of an expiring cause, some indulgence might
perhaps be allowed to the interest and habits of the sacerdotal
character. But it may appear a subject of surprise and scandal, that
the philosophers themselves should have contributed to abuse the
superstitious credulity of mankind, and that the Grecian mysteries
should have been supported by the magic or theurgy of the modern
Platonists. They arrogantly pretended to control the order of nature, to
explore the secrets of futurity, to command the service of the inferior
dÊmons, to enjoy the view and conversation of the superior gods, and by
disengaging the soul from her material bands, to reunite that immortal
particle with the Infinite and Divine Spirit.
The devout and fearless curiosity of Julian tempted the philosophers
with the hopes of an easy conquest; which, from the situation of their
young proselyte, might be productive of the most important consequences.
Julian imbibed the first rudiments of the Platonic doctrines from the
mouth of ∆desius, who had fixed at Pergamus his wandering and persecuted
school. But as the declining strength of that venerable sage was unequal
to the ardor, the diligence, the rapid conception of his pupil, two of
his most learned disciples, Chrysanthes and Eusebius, supplied, at his
own desire, the place of their aged master. These philosophers seem to
have prepared and distributed their respective parts; and they artfully
contrived, by dark hints and affected disputes, to excite the impatient
hopes of the aspirant, till they delivered him into the hands of their
associate, Maximus, the boldest and most skilful master of the Theurgic
science. By his hands, Julian was secretly initiated at Ephesus, in
the twentieth year of his age. His residence at Athens confirmed this
unnatural alliance of philosophy and superstition. He obtained the
privilege of a solemn initiation into the mysteries of Eleusis, which,
amidst the general decay of the Grecian worship, still retained some
vestiges of their primÊval sanctity; and such was the zeal of Julian,
that he afterwards invited the Eleusinian pontiff to the court of Gaul,
for the sole purpose of consummating, by mystic rites and sacrifices,
the great work of his sanctification. As these ceremonies were performed
in the depth of caverns, and in the silence of the night, and as the
inviolable secret of the mysteries was preserved by the discretion of
the initiated, I shall not presume to describe the horrid sounds,
and fiery apparitions, which were presented to the senses, or the
imagination, of the credulous aspirant, till the visions of comfort and
knowledge broke upon him in a blaze of celestial light. In the caverns
of Ephesus and Eleusis, the mind of Julian was penetrated with sincere,
deep, and unalterable enthusiasm; though he might sometimes exhibit the
vicissitudes of pious fraud and hypocrisy, which may be observed, or at
least suspected, in the characters of the most conscientious fanatics.
From that moment he consecrated his life to the service of the gods;
and while the occupations of war, of government, and of study, seemed
to claim the whole measure of his time, a stated portion of the hours of
the night was invariably reserved for the exercise of private devotion.
The temperance which adorned the severe manners of the soldier and
the philosopher was connected with some strict and frivolous rules of
religious abstinence; and it was in honor of Pan or Mercury, of Hecate
or Isis, that Julian, on particular days, denied himself the use of some
particular food, which might have been offensive to his tutelar deities.
By these voluntary fasts, he prepared his senses and his understanding
for the frequent and familiar visits with which he was honored by the
celestial powers. Notwithstanding the modest silence of Julian himself,
we may learn from his faithful friend, the orator Libanius, that he
lived in a perpetual intercourse with the gods and goddesses; that they
descended upon earth to enjoy the conversation of their favorite hero;
that they gently interrupted his slumbers by touching his hand or his
hair; that they warned him of every impending danger, and conducted him,
by their infallible wisdom, in every action of his life; and that he had
acquired such an intimate knowledge of his heavenly guests, as readily
to distinguish the voice of Jupiter from that of Minerva, and the form
of Apollo from the figure of Hercules. These sleeping or waking visions,
the ordinary effects of abstinence and fanaticism, would almost degrade
the emperor to the level of an Egyptian monk. But the useless lives
of Antony or Pachomius were consumed in these vain occupations. Julian
could break from the dream of superstition to arm himself for battle;
and after vanquishing in the field the enemies of Rome, he calmly
retired into his tent, to dictate the wise and salutary laws of an
empire, or to indulge his genius in the elegant pursuits of literature
and philosophy.
The important secret of the apostasy of Julian was intrusted to the
fidelity of the initiated, with whom he was united by the sacred ties
of friendship and religion. The pleasing rumor was cautiously circulated
among the adherents of the ancient worship; and his future greatness
became the object of the hopes, the prayers, and the predictions of the
Pagans, in every province of the empire. From the zeal and virtues of
their royal proselyte, they fondly expected the cure of every evil, and
the restoration of every blessing; and instead of disapproving of the
ardor of their pious wishes, Julian ingenuously confessed, that he
was ambitious to attain a situation in which he might be useful to his
country and to his religion. But this religion was viewed with a
hostile eye by the successor of Constantine, whose capricious passions
alternately saved and threatened the life of Julian. The arts of magic
and divination were strictly prohibited under a despotic government,
which condescended to fear them; and if the Pagans were reluctantly
indulged in the exercise of their superstition, the rank of Julian would
have excepted him from the general toleration. The apostate soon became
the presumptive heir of the monarchy, and his death could alone have
appeased the just apprehensions of the Christians. But the young prince,
who aspired to the glory of a hero rather than of a martyr, consulted
his safety by dissembling his religion; and the easy temper of
polytheism permitted him to join in the public worship of a sect which
he inwardly despised. Libanius has considered the hypocrisy of his
friend as a subject, not of censure, but of praise. "As the statues of
the gods," says that orator, "which have been defiled with filth, are
again placed in a magnificent temple, so the beauty of truth was seated
in the mind of Julian, after it had been purified from the errors and
follies of his education. His sentiments were changed; but as it would
have been dangerous to have avowed his sentiments, his conduct still
continued the same. Very different from the ass in ∆sop, who disguised
himself with a lion's hide, our lion was obliged to conceal himself
under the skin of an ass; and, while he embraced the dictates of reason,
to obey the laws of prudence and necessity." The dissimulation of Julian
lasted about ten years, from his secret initiation at Ephesus to
the beginning of the civil war; when he declared himself at once the
implacable enemy of Christ and of Constantius. This state of constraint
might contribute to strengthen his devotion; and as soon as he had
satisfied the obligation of assisting, on solemn festivals, at the
assemblies of the Christians, Julian returned, with the impatience of a
lover, to burn his free and voluntary incense on the domestic chapels of
Jupiter and Mercury. But as every act of dissimulation must be painful
to an ingenuous spirit, the profession of Christianity increased the
aversion of Julian for a religion which oppressed the freedom of his
mind, and compelled him to hold a conduct repugnant to the noblest
attributes of human nature, sincerity and courage.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.--Part II.
The inclination of Julian might prefer the gods of Homer, and of the
Scipios, to the new faith, which his uncle had established in the Roman
empire; and in which he himself had been sanctified by the sacrament of
baptism. But, as a philosopher, it was incumbent on him to justify his
dissent from Christianity, which was supported by the number of its
converts, by the chain of prophecy, the splendor of or miracles, and
the weight of evidence. The elaborate work, which he composed amidst
the preparations of the Persian war, contained the substance of those
arguments which he had long revolved in his mind. Some fragments have
been transcribed and preserved, by his adversary, the vehement Cyril
of Alexandria; and they exhibit a very singular mixture of wit and
learning, of sophistry and fanaticism. The elegance of the style and the
rank of the author, recommended his writings to the public attention;
and in the impious list of the enemies of Christianity, the celebrated
name of Porphyry was effaced by the superior merit or reputation of
Julian. The minds of the faithful were either seduced, or scandalized,
or alarmed; and the pagans, who sometimes presumed to engage in the
unequal dispute, derived, from the popular work of their Imperial
missionary, an inexhaustible supply of fallacious objections. But in the
assiduous prosecution of these theological studies, the emperor of
the Romans imbibed the illiberal prejudices and passions of a polemic
divine. He contracted an irrevocable obligation to maintain and
propagate his religious opinions; and whilst he secretly applauded the
strength and dexterity with which he wielded the weapons of
controversy, he was tempted to distrust the sincerity, or to despise
the understandings, of his antagonists, who could obstinately resist the
force of reason and eloquence.
The Christians, who beheld with horror and indignation the apostasy of
Julian, had much more to fear from his power than from his arguments.
The pagans, who were conscious of his fervent zeal, expected, perhaps
with impatience, that the flames of persecution should be immediately
kindled against the enemies of the gods; and that the ingenious malice
of Julian would invent some cruel refinements of death and torture which
had been unknown to the rude and inexperienced fury of his predecessors.
But the hopes, as well as the fears, of the religious factions were
apparently disappointed, by the prudent humanity of a prince, who was
careful of his own fame, of the public peace, and of the rights of
mankind. Instructed by history and reflection, Julian was persuaded,
that if the diseases of the body may sometimes be cured by salutary
violence, neither steel nor fire can eradicate the erroneous opinions of
the mind. The reluctant victim may be dragged to the foot of the altar;
but the heart still abhors and disclaims the sacrilegious act of the
hand. Religious obstinacy is hardened and exasperated by oppression;
and, as soon as the persecution subsides, those who have yielded are
restored as penitents, and those who have resisted are honored as saints
and martyrs. If Julian adopted the unsuccessful cruelty of Diocletian
and his colleagues, he was sensible that he should stain his memory with
the name of a tyrant, and add new glories to the Catholic church,
which had derived strength and increase from the severity of the pagan
magistrates. Actuated by these motives, and apprehensive of disturbing
the repose of an unsettled reign, Julian surprised the world by an
edict, which was not unworthy of a statesman, or a philosopher. He
extended to all the inhabitants of the Roman world the benefits of a
free and equal toleration; and the only hardship which he inflicted on
the Christians, was to deprive them of the power of tormenting their
fellow-subjects, whom they stigmatized with the odious titles of
idolaters and heretics. The pagans received a gracious permission, or
rather an express order, to open All their temples; and they were at
once delivered from the oppressive laws, and arbitrary vexations, which
they had sustained under the reign of Constantine, and of his sons. At
the same time the bishops and clergy, who had been banished by the Arian
monarch, were recalled from exile, and restored to their respective
churches; the Donatists, the Novatians, the Macedonians, the Eunomians,
and those who, with a more prosperous fortune, adhered to the doctrine
of the Council of Nice. Julian, who understood and derided their
theological disputes, invited to the palace the leaders of the hostile
sects, that he might enjoy the agreeable spectacle of their furious
encounters. The clamor of controversy sometimes provoked the emperor to
exclaim, "Hear me! the Franks have heard me, and the Alemanni;" but
he soon discovered that he was now engaged with more obstinate and
implacable enemies; and though he exerted the powers of oratory to
persuade them to live in concord, or at least in peace, he was perfectly
satisfied, before he dismissed them from his presence, that he had
nothing to dread from the union of the Christians. The impartial
Ammianus has ascribed this affected clemency to the desire of fomenting
the intestine divisions of the church, and the insidious design of
undermining the foundations of Christianity, was inseparably connected
with the zeal which Julian professed, to restore the ancient religion of
the empire.
As soon as he ascended the throne, he assumed, according to the custom
of his predecessors, the character of supreme pontiff; not only as
the most honorable title of Imperial greatness, but as a sacred and
important office; the duties of which he was resolved to execute with
pious diligence. As the business of the state prevented the emperor from
joining every day in the public devotion of his subjects, he dedicated
a domestic chapel to his tutelar deity the Sun; his gardens were filled
with statues and altars of the gods; and each apartment of the palace
displaced the appearance of a magnificent temple. Every morning he
saluted the parent of light with a sacrifice; the blood of another
victim was shed at the moment when the Sun sunk below the horizon;
and the Moon, the Stars, and the Genii of the night received their
respective and seasonable honors from the indefatigable devotion of
Julian. On solemn festivals, he regularly visited the temple of the god
or goddess to whom the day was peculiarly consecrated, and endeavored to
excite the religion of the magistrates and people by the example of
his own zeal. Instead of maintaining the lofty state of a monarch,
distinguished by the splendor of his purple, and encompassed by
the golden shields of his guards, Julian solicited, with respectful
eagerness, the meanest offices which contributed to the worship of the
gods. Amidst the sacred but licentious crowd of priests, of inferior
ministers, and of female dancers, who were dedicated to the service of
the temple, it was the business of the emperor to bring the wood,
to blow the fire, to handle the knife, to slaughter the victim, and,
thrusting his bloody hands into the bowels of the expiring animal, to
draw forth the heart or liver, and to read, with the consummate skill of
an haruspex, imaginary signs of future events. The wisest of the Pagans
censured this extravagant superstition, which affected to despise the
restraints of prudence and decency. Under the reign of a prince, who
practised the rigid maxims of economy, the expense of religious worship
consumed a very large portion of the revenue a constant supply of the
scarcest and most beautiful birds was transported from distant climates,
to bleed on the altars of the gods; a hundred oxen were frequently
sacrificed by Julian on one and the same day; and it soon became a
popular jest, that if he should return with conquest from the Persian
war, the breed of horned cattle must infallibly be extinguished. Yet
this expense may appear inconsiderable, when it is compared with the
splendid presents which were offered either by the hand, or by order,
of the emperor, to all the celebrated places of devotion in the Roman
world; and with the sums allotted to repair and decorate the ancient
temples, which had suffered the silent decay of time, or the
recent injuries of Christian rapine. Encouraged by the example, the
exhortations, the liberality, of their pious sovereign, the cities and
families resumed the practice of their neglected ceremonies. "Every part
of the world," exclaims Libanius, with devout transport, "displayed
the triumph of religion; and the grateful prospect of flaming altars,
bleeding victims, the smoke of incense, and a solemn train of priests
and prophets, without fear and without danger. The sound of prayer and
of music was heard on the tops of the highest mountains; and the same
ox afforded a sacrifice for the gods, and a supper for their joyous
votaries."
But the genius and power of Julian were unequal to the enterprise of
restoring a religion which was destitute of theological principles, of
moral precepts, and of ecclesiastical discipline; which rapidly hastened
to decay and dissolution, and was not susceptible of any solid or
consistent reformation. The jurisdiction of the supreme pontiff, more
especially after that office had been united with the Imperial dignity,
comprehended the whole extent of the Roman empire. Julian named for his
vicars, in the several provinces, the priests and philosophers whom he
esteemed the best qualified to cooperate in the execution of his
great design; and his pastoral letters, if we may use that name,
still represent a very curious sketch of his wishes and intentions. He
directs, that in every city the sacerdotal order should be composed,
without any distinction of birth and fortune, of those persons who were
the most conspicuous for the love of the gods, and of men. "If they
are guilty," continues he, "of any scandalous offence, they should be
censured or degraded by the superior pontiff; but as long as they retain
their rank, they are entitled to the respect of the magistrates and
people. Their humility may be shown in the plainness of their domestic
garb; their dignity, in the pomp of holy vestments. When they are
summoned in their turn to officiate before the altar, they ought not,
during the appointed number of days, to depart from the precincts of
the temple; nor should a single day be suffered to elapse, without
the prayers and the sacrifice, which they are obliged to offer for
the prosperity of the state, and of individuals. The exercise of their
sacred functions requires an immaculate purity, both of mind and body;
and even when they are dismissed from the temple to the occupations of
common life, it is incumbent on them to excel in decency and virtue the
rest of their fellow-citizens. The priest of the gods should never be
seen in theatres or taverns. His conversation should be chaste, his
diet temperate, his friends of honorable reputation; and if he sometimes
visits the Forum or the Palace, he should appear only as the advocate
of those who have vainly solicited either justice or mercy. His studies
should be suited to the sanctity of his profession. Licentious tales,
or comedies, or satires, must be banished from his library, which ought
solely to consist of historical or philosophical writings; of history,
which is founded in truth, and of philosophy, which is connected with
religion. The impious opinions of the Epicureans and sceptics deserve
his abhorrence and contempt; but he should diligently study the systems
of Pythagoras, of Plato, and of the Stoics, which unanimously teach that
there are gods; that the world is governed by their providence; that
their goodness is the source of every temporal blessing; and that
they have prepared for the human soul a future state of reward or
punishment." The Imperial pontiff inculcates, in the most persuasive
language, the duties of benevolence and hospitality; exhorts his
inferior clergy to recommend the universal practice of those virtues;
promises to assist their indigence from the public treasury; and
declares his resolution of establishing hospitals in every city, where
the poor should be received without any invidious distinction of country
or of religion. Julian beheld with envy the wise and humane regulations
of the church; and he very frankly confesses his intention to deprive
the Christians of the applause, as well as advantage, which they had
acquired by the exclusive practice of charity and beneficence. The
same spirit of imitation might dispose the emperor to adopt several
ecclesiastical institutions, the use and importance of which were
approved by the success of his enemies. But if these imaginary plans of
reformation had been realized, the forced and imperfect copy would have
been less beneficial to Paganism, than honorable to Christianity. The
Gentiles, who peaceably followed the customs of their ancestors, were
rather surprised than pleased with the introduction of foreign manners;
and in the short period of his reign, Julian had frequent occasions to
complain of the want of fervor of his own party.
The enthusiasm of Julian prompted him to embrace the friends of Jupiter
as his personal friends and brethren; and though he partially overlooked
the merit of Christian constancy, he admired and rewarded the noble
perseverance of those Gentiles who had preferred the favor of the gods
to that of the emperor. If they cultivated the literature, as well as
the religion, of the Greeks, they acquired an additional claim to the
friendship of Julian, who ranked the Muses in the number of his tutelar
deities. In the religion which he had adopted, piety and learning
were almost synonymous; and a crowd of poets, of rhetoricians, and
of philosophers, hastened to the Imperial court, to occupy the vacant
places of the bishops, who had seduced the credulity of Constantius. His
successor esteemed the ties of common initiation as far more sacred than
those of consanguinity; he chose his favorites among the sages, who were
deeply skilled in the occult sciences of magic and divination; and every
impostor, who pretended to reveal the secrets of futurity, was
assured of enjoying the present hour in honor and affluence. Among the
philosophers, Maximus obtained the most eminent rank in the friendship
of his royal disciple, who communicated, with unreserved confidence, his
actions, his sentiments, and his religious designs, during the anxious
suspense of the civil war. As soon as Julian had taken possession of
the palace of Constantinople, he despatched an honorable and pressing
invitation to Maximus, who then resided at Sardes in Lydia, with
Chrysanthius, the associate of his art and studies. The prudent and
superstitious Chrysanthius refused to undertake a journey which showed
itself, according to the rules of divination, with the most threatening
and malignant aspect: but his companion, whose fanaticism was of a
bolder cast, persisted in his interrogations, till he had extorted from
the gods a seeming consent to his own wishes, and those of the emperor.
The journey of Maximus through the cities of Asia displayed the triumph
of philosophic vanity; and the magistrates vied with each other in
the honorable reception which they prepared for the friend of their
sovereign. Julian was pronouncing an oration before the senate, when
he was informed of the arrival of Maximus. The emperor immediately
interrupted his discourse, advanced to meet him, and after a tender
embrace, conducted him by the hand into the midst of the assembly; where
he publicly acknowledged the benefits which he had derived from
the instructions of the philosopher. Maximus, who soon acquired the
confidence, and influenced the councils of Julian, was insensibly
corrupted by the temptations of a court. His dress became more splendid,
his demeanor more lofty, and he was exposed, under a succeeding reign,
to a disgraceful inquiry into the means by which the disciple of Plato
had accumulated, in the short duration of his favor, a very scandalous
proportion of wealth. Of the other philosophers and sophists, who were
invited to the Imperial residence by the choice of Julian, or by the
success of Maximus, few were able to preserve their innocence or
their reputation. The liberal gifts of money, lands, and houses, were
insufficient to satiate their rapacious avarice; and the indignation of
the people was justly excited by the remembrance of their abject poverty
and disinterested professions. The penetration of Julian could not
always be deceived: but he was unwilling to despise the characters of
those men whose talents deserved his esteem: he desired to escape the
double reproach of imprudence and inconstancy; and he was apprehensive
of degrading, in the eyes of the profane, the honor of letters and of
religion.
The favor of Julian was almost equally divided between the Pagans,
who had firmly adhered to the worship of their ancestors, and the
Christians, who prudently embraced the religion of their sovereign. The
acquisition of new proselytes gratified the ruling passions of his
soul, superstition and vanity; and he was heard to declare, with the
enthusiasm of a missionary, that if he could render each individual
richer than Midas, and every city greater than Babylon, he should not
esteem himself the benefactor of mankind, unless, at the same time,
he could reclaim his subjects from their impious revolt against the
immortal gods. A prince who had studied human nature, and who possessed
the treasures of the Roman empire, could adapt his arguments, his
promises, and his rewards, to every order of Christians; and the merit
of a seasonable conversion was allowed to supply the defects of a
candidate, or even to expiate the guilt of a criminal. As the army is
the most forcible engine of absolute power, Julian applied himself, with
peculiar diligence, to corrupt the religion of his troops, without whose
hearty concurrence every measure must be dangerous and unsuccessful;
and the natural temper of soldiers made this conquest as easy as it was
important. The legions of Gaul devoted themselves to the faith, as well
as to the fortunes, of their victorious leader; and even before the
death of Constantius, he had the satisfaction of announcing to his
friends, that they assisted with fervent devotion, and voracious
appetite, at the sacrifices, which were repeatedly offered in his camp,
of whole hecatombs of fat oxen. The armies of the East, which had been
trained under the standard of the cross, and of Constantius, required a
more artful and expensive mode of persuasion. On the days of solemn
and public festivals, the emperor received the homage, and rewarded
the merit, of the troops. His throne of state was encircled with the
military ensigns of Rome and the republic; the holy name of Christ was
erased from the Labarum; and the symbols of war, of majesty, and of
pagan superstition, were so dexterously blended, that the faithful
subject incurred the guilt of idolatry, when he respectfully saluted the
person or image of his sovereign. The soldiers passed successively in
review; and each of them, before he received from the hand of Julian a
liberal donative, proportioned to his rank and services, was required to
cast a few grains of incense into the flame which burnt upon the altar.
Some Christian confessors might resist, and others might repent; but
the far greater number, allured by the prospect of gold, and awed by the
presence of the emperor, contracted the criminal engagement; and their
future perseverance in the worship of the gods was enforced by every
consideration of duty and of interest. By the frequent repetition of
these arts, and at the expense of sums which would have purchased the
service of half the nations of Scythia, Julian gradually acquired for
his troops the imaginary protection of the gods, and for himself the
firm and effectual support of the Roman legions. It is indeed more than
probable, that the restoration and encouragement of Paganism revealed
a multitude of pretended Christians, who, from motives of temporal
advantage, had acquiesced in the religion of the former reign; and who
afterwards returned, with the same flexibility of conscience, to the
faith which was professed by the successors of Julian.
While the devout monarch incessantly labored to restore and propagate
the religion of his ancestors, he embraced the extraordinary design of
rebuilding the temple of Jerusalem. In a public epistle to the nation or
community of the Jews, dispersed through the provinces, he pities
their misfortunes, condemns their oppressors, praises their constancy,
declares himself their gracious protector, and expresses a pious hope,
that after his return from the Persian war, he may be permitted to pay
his grateful vows to the Almighty in his holy city of Jerusalem. The
blind superstition, and abject slavery, of those unfortunate exiles,
must excite the contempt of a philosophic emperor; but they deserved the
friendship of Julian, by their implacable hatred of the Christian name.
The barren synagogue abhorred and envied the fecundity of the rebellious
church; the power of the Jews was not equal to their malice; but their
gravest rabbis approved the private murder of an apostate; and their
seditious clamors had often awakened the indolence of the Pagan
magistrates. Under the reign of Constantine, the Jews became the
subjects of their revolted children nor was it long before they
experienced the bitterness of domestic tyranny. The civil immunities
which had been granted, or confirmed, by Severus, were gradually
repealed by the Christian princes; and a rash tumult, excited by the
Jews of Palestine, seemed to justify the lucrative modes of oppression
which were invented by the bishops and eunuchs of the court of
Constantius. The Jewish patriarch, who was still permitted to exercise
a precarious jurisdiction, held his residence at Tiberias; and the
neighboring cities of Palestine were filled with the remains of a people
who fondly adhered to the promised land. But the edict of Hadrian was
renewed and enforced; and they viewed from afar the walls of the holy
city, which were profaned in their eyes by the triumph of the cross and
the devotion of the Christians.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.--Part III.
In the midst of a rocky and barren country, the walls of Jerusalem
enclosed the two mountains of Sion and Acra, within an oval figure of
about three English miles. Towards the south, the upper town, and the
fortress of David, were erected on the lofty ascent of Mount Sion: on
the north side, the buildings of the lower town covered the spacious
summit of Mount Acra; and a part of the hill, distinguished by the name
of Moriah, and levelled by human industry, was crowned with the stately
temple of the Jewish nation. After the final destruction of the temple
by the arms of Titus and Hadrian, a ploughshare was drawn over the
consecrated ground, as a sign of perpetual interdiction. Sion was
deserted; and the vacant space of the lower city was filled with the
public and private edifices of the ∆lian colony, which spread themselves
over the adjacent hill of Calvary. The holy places were polluted with
mountains of idolatry; and, either from design or accident, a chapel was
dedicated to Venus, on the spot which had been sanctified by the death
and resurrection of Christ. * Almost three hundred years after those
stupendous events, the profane chapel of Venus was demolished by the
order of Constantine; and the removal of the earth and stones revealed
the holy sepulchre to the eyes of mankind. A magnificent church was
erected on that mystic ground, by the first Christian emperor; and the
effects of his pious munificence were extended to every spot which had
been consecrated by the footstep of patriarchs, of prophets, and of the
Son of God.
The passionate desire of contemplating the original monuments of their
redemption attracted to Jerusalem a successive crowd of pilgrims, from
the shores of the Atlantic Ocean, and the most distant countries of
the East; and their piety was authorized by the example of the empress
Helena, who appears to have united the credulity of age with the warm
feelings of a recent conversion. Sages and heroes, who have visited
the memorable scenes of ancient wisdom or glory, have confessed the
inspiration of the genius of the place; and the Christian who knelt
before the holy sepulchre, ascribed his lively faith, and his fervent
devotion, to the more immediate influence of the Divine Spirit. The
zeal, perhaps the avarice, of the clergy of Jerusalem, cherished and
multiplied these beneficial visits. They fixed, by unquestionable
tradition, the scene of each memorable event. They exhibited the
instruments which had been used in the passion of Christ; the nails and
the lance that had pierced his hands, his feet, and his side; the crown
of thorns that was planted on his head; the pillar at which he was
scourged; and, above all, they showed the cross on which he suffered,
and which was dug out of the earth in the reign of those princes, who
inserted the symbol of Christianity in the banners of the Roman legions.
Such miracles as seemed necessary to account for its extraordinary
preservation, and seasonable discovery, were gradually propagated
without opposition. The custody of the true cross, which on Easter
Sunday was solemnly exposed to the people, was intrusted to the bishop
of Jerusalem; and he alone might gratify the curious devotion of the
pilgrims, by the gift of small pieces, which they encased in gold or
gems, and carried away in triumph to their respective countries. But as
this gainful branch of commerce must soon have been annihilated, it was
found convenient to suppose, that the marvelous wood possessed a
secret power of vegetation; and that its substance, though continually
diminished, still remained entire and unimpaired. It might perhaps
have been expected, that the influence of the place and the belief of
a perpetual miracle, should have produced some salutary effects on the
morals, as well as on the faith, of the people. Yet the most respectable
of the ecclesiastical writers have been obliged to confess, not only
that the streets of Jerusalem were filled with the incessant tumult of
business and pleasure, but that every species of vice--adultery, theft,
idolatry, poisoning, murder--was familiar to the inhabitants of the holy
city. The wealth and preeminence of the church of Jerusalem excited the
ambition of Arian, as well as orthodox, candidates; and the virtues of
Cyril, who, since his death, has been honored with the title of Saint,
were displayed in the exercise, rather than in the acquisition, of his
episcopal dignity.
The vain and ambitious mind of Julian might aspire to restore the
ancient glory of the temple of Jerusalem. As the Christians were firmly
persuaded that a sentence of everlasting destruction had been pronounced
against the whole fabric of the Mosaic law, the Imperial sophist would
have converted the success of his undertaking into a specious argument
against the faith of prophecy, and the truth of revelation. He was
displeased with the spiritual worship of the synagogue; but he approved
the institutions of Moses, who had not disdained to adopt many of the
rites and ceremonies of Egypt. The local and national deity of the Jews
was sincerely adored by a polytheist, who desired only to multiply
the number of the gods; and such was the appetite of Julian for bloody
sacrifice, that his emulation might be excited by the piety of Solomon,
who had offered, at the feast of the dedication, twenty-two thousand
oxen, and one hundred and twenty thousand sheep. These considerations
might influence his designs; but the prospect of an immediate and
important advantage would not suffer the impatient monarch to expect
the remote and uncertain event of the Persian war. He resolved to erect,
without delay, on the commanding eminence of Moriah, a stately temple,
which might eclipse the splendor of the church of the resurrection on
the adjacent hill of Calvary; to establish an order of priests, whose
interested zeal would detect the arts, and resist the ambition, of their
Christian rivals; and to invite a numerous colony of Jews, whose stern
fanaticism would be always prepared to second, and even to anticipate,
the hostile measures of the Pagan government. Among the friends of the
emperor (if the names of emperor, and of friend, are not incompatible)
the first place was assigned, by Julian himself, to the virtuous and
learned Alypius. The humanity of Alypius was tempered by severe justice
and manly fortitude; and while he exercised his abilities in the civil
administration of Britain, he imitated, in his poetical compositions,
the harmony and softness of the odes of Sappho. This minister, to whom
Julian communicated, without reserve, his most careless levities, and
his most serious counsels, received an extraordinary commission to
restore, in its pristine beauty, the temple of Jerusalem; and the
diligence of Alypius required and obtained the strenuous support of the
governor of Palestine. At the call of their great deliverer, the Jews,
from all the provinces of the empire, assembled on the holy mountain of
their fathers; and their insolent triumph alarmed and exasperated the
Christian inhabitants of Jerusalem. The desire of rebuilding the temple
has in every age been the ruling passion of the children of IsrÊl. In
this propitious moment the men forgot their avarice, and the women their
delicacy; spades and pickaxes of silver were provided by the vanity of
the rich, and the rubbish was transported in mantles of silk and purple.
Every purse was opened in liberal contributions, every hand claimed
a share in the pious labor, and the commands of a great monarch were
executed by the enthusiasm of a whole people.
Yet, on this occasion, the joint efforts of power and enthusiasm were
unsuccessful; and the ground of the Jewish temple, which is now covered
by a Mahometan mosque, still continued to exhibit the same edifying
spectacle of ruin and desolation. Perhaps the absence and death of the
emperor, and the new maxims of a Christian reign, might explain the
interruption of an arduous work, which was attempted only in the last
six months of the life of Julian. But the Christians entertained a
natural and pious expectation, that, in this memorable contest, the
honor of religion would be vindicated by some signal miracle. An
earthquake, a whirlwind, and a fiery eruption, which overturned and
scattered the new foundations of the temple, are attested, with some
variations, by contemporary and respectable evidence. This public event
is described by Ambrose, bishop of Milan, in an epistle to the emperor
Theodosius, which must provoke the severe animadversion of the Jews;
by the eloquent Chrysostom, who might appeal to the memory of the elder
part of his congregation at Antioch; and by Gregory Nazianzen, who
published his account of the miracle before the expiration of the
same year. The last of these writers has boldly declared, that this
preternatural event was not disputed by the infidels; and his assertion,
strange as it may seem is confirmed by the unexceptionable testimony of
Ammianus Marcellinus. The philosophic soldier, who loved the virtues,
without adopting the prejudices, of his master, has recorded, in
his judicious and candid history of his own times, the extraordinary
obstacles which interrupted the restoration of the temple of Jerusalem.
"Whilst Alypius, assisted by the governor of the province, urged, with
vigor and diligence, the execution of the work, horrible balls of fire
breaking out near the foundations, with frequent and reiterated attacks,
rendered the place, from time to time, inaccessible to the scorched and
blasted workmen; and the victorious element continuing in this manner
obstinately and resolutely bent, as it were, to drive them to a
distance, the undertaking was abandoned." * Such authority should
satisfy a believing, and must astonish an incredulous, mind. Yet a
philosopher may still require the original evidence of impartial and
intelligent spectators. At this important crisis, any singular accident
of nature would assume the appearance, and produce the effects of a
real prodigy. This glorious deliverance would be speedily improved and
magnified by the pious art of the clergy of Jerusalem, and the active
credulity of the Christian world and, at the distance of twenty years, a
Roman historian, care less of theological disputes, might adorn his work
with the specious and splendid miracle.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.--Part IV.
The restoration of the Jewish temple was secretly connected with the
ruin of the Christian church. Julian still continued to maintain the
freedom of religious worship, without distinguishing whether this
universal toleration proceeded from his justice or his clemency. He
affected to pity the unhappy Christians, who were mistaken in the most
important object of their lives; but his pity was degraded by contempt,
his contempt was embittered by hatred; and the sentiments of Julian were
expressed in a style of sarcastic wit, which inflicts a deep and deadly
wound, whenever it issues from the mouth of a sovereign. As he was
sensible that the Christians gloried in the name of their Redeemer,
he countenanced, and perhaps enjoined, the use of the less honorable
appellation of GalilÊans. He declared, that by the folly of the
GalilÊans, whom he describes as a sect of fanatics, contemptible to
men, and odious to the gods, the empire had been reduced to the brink of
destruction; and he insinuates in a public edict, that a frantic patient
might sometimes be cured by salutary violence. An ungenerous distinction
was admitted into the mind and counsels of Julian, that, according to
the difference of their religious sentiments, one part of his subjects
deserved his favor and friendship, while the other was entitled only
to the common benefits that his justice could not refuse to an obedient
people. According to a principle, pregnant with mischief and oppression,
the emperor transferred to the pontiffs of his own religion the
management of the liberal allowances for the public revenue, which had
been granted to the church by the piety of Constantine and his sons.
The proud system of clerical honors and immunities, which had been
constructed with so much art and labor, was levelled to the ground; the
hopes of testamentary donations were intercepted by the rigor of the
laws; and the priests of the Christian sect were confounded with the
last and most ignominious class of the people. Such of these regulations
as appeared necessary to check the ambition and avarice of the
ecclesiastics, were soon afterwards imitated by the wisdom of an
orthodox prince. The peculiar distinctions which policy has bestowed, or
superstition has lavished, on the sacerdotal order, must be confined to
those priests who profess the religion of the state. But the will of
the legislator was not exempt from prejudice and passion; and it was the
object of the insidious policy of Julian, to deprive the Christians of
all the temporal honors and advantages which rendered them respectable
in the eyes of the world.
A just and severe censure has been inflicted on the law which prohibited
the Christians from teaching the arts of grammar and rhetoric. The
motives alleged by the emperor to justify this partial and oppressive
measure, might command, during his lifetime, the silence of slaves and
the applause of flatterers. Julian abuses the ambiguous meaning of
a word which might be indifferently applied to the language and the
religion of the Greeks: he contemptuously observes, that the men who
exalt the merit of implicit faith are unfit to claim or to enjoy the
advantages of science; and he vainly contends, that if they refuse
to adore the gods of Homer and Demosthenes, they ought to content
themselves with expounding Luke and Matthew in the church of the
GalilÊans. In all the cities of the Roman world, the education of the
youth was intrusted to masters of grammar and rhetoric; who were elected
by the magistrates, maintained at the public expense, and distinguished
by many lucrative and honorable privileges. The edict of Julian appears
to have included the physicians, and professors of all the liberal
arts; and the emperor, who reserved to himself the approbation of the
candidates, was authorized by the laws to corrupt, or to punish, the
religious constancy of the most learned of the Christians. As soon
as the resignation of the more obstinate teachers had established the
unrivalled dominion of the Pagan sophists, Julian invited the rising
generation to resort with freedom to the public schools, in a just
confidence, that their tender minds would receive the impressions of
literature and idolatry. If the greatest part of the Christian youth
should be deterred by their own scruples, or by those of their parents,
from accepting this dangerous mode of instruction, they must, at the
same time, relinquish the benefits of a liberal education. Julian had
reason to expect that, in the space of a few years, the church would
relapse into its primÊval simplicity, and that the theologians, who
possessed an adequate share of the learning and eloquence of the age,
would be succeeded by a generation of blind and ignorant fanatics,
incapable of defending the truth of their own principles, or of exposing
the various follies of Polytheism.
It was undoubtedly the wish and design of Julian to deprive the
Christians of the advantages of wealth, of knowledge, and of power; but
the injustice of excluding them from all offices of trust and profit
seems to have been the result of his general policy, rather than the
immediate consequence of any positive law. Superior merit might deserve
and obtain, some extraordinary exceptions; but the greater part of the
Christian officers were gradually removed from their employments in the
state, the army, and the provinces. The hopes of future candidates were
extinguished by the declared partiality of a prince, who maliciously
reminded them, that it was unlawful for a Christian to use the sword,
either of justice, or of war; and who studiously guarded the camp and
the tribunals with the ensigns of idolatry. The powers of government
were intrusted to the pagans, who professed an ardent zeal for the
religion of their ancestors; and as the choice of the emperor was often
directed by the rules of divination, the favorites whom he preferred as
the most agreeable to the gods, did not always obtain the approbation of
mankind. Under the administration of their enemies, the Christians had
much to suffer, and more to apprehend. The temper of Julian was averse
to cruelty; and the care of his reputation, which was exposed to the
eyes of the universe, restrained the philosophic monarch from violating
the laws of justice and toleration, which he himself had so recently
established. But the provincial ministers of his authority were placed
in a less conspicuous station. In the exercise of arbitrary power, they
consulted the wishes, rather than the commands, of their sovereign;
and ventured to exercise a secret and vexatious tyranny against the
sectaries, on whom they were not permitted to confer the honors of
martyrdom. The emperor, who dissembled as long as possible his knowledge
of the injustice that was exercised in his name, expressed his real
sense of the conduct of his officers, by gentle reproofs and substantial
rewards.
The most effectual instrument of oppression, with which they were
armed, was the law that obliged the Christians to make full and
ample satisfaction for the temples which they had destroyed under
the preceding reign. The zeal of the triumphant church had not always
expected the sanction of the public authority; and the bishops, who were
secure of impunity, had often marched at the head of their congregation,
to attack and demolish the fortresses of the prince of darkness. The
consecrated lands, which had increased the patrimony of the sovereign or
of the clergy, were clearly defined, and easily restored. But on these
lands, and on the ruins of Pagan superstition, the Christians had
frequently erected their own religious edifices: and as it was necessary
to remove the church before the temple could be rebuilt, the justice
and piety of the emperor were applauded by one party, while the other
deplored and execrated his sacrilegious violence. After the ground was
cleared, the restitution of those stately structures which had been
levelled with the dust, and of the precious ornaments which had been
converted to Christian uses, swelled into a very large account of
damages and debt. The authors of the injury had neither the ability nor
the inclination to discharge this accumulated demand: and the impartial
wisdom of a legislator would have been displayed in balancing
the adverse claims and complaints, by an equitable and temperate
arbitration. But the whole empire, and particularly the East, was thrown
into confusion by the rash edicts of Julian; and the Pagan magistrates,
inflamed by zeal and revenge, abused the rigorous privilege of the Roman
law, which substitutes, in the place of his inadequate property, the
person of the insolvent debtor. Under the preceding reign, Mark, bishop
of Arethusa, had labored in the conversion of his people with arms more
effectual than those of persuasion. The magistrates required the full
value of a temple which had been destroyed by his intolerant zeal: but
as they were satisfied of his poverty, they desired only to bend his
inflexible spirit to the promise of the slightest compensation. They
apprehended the aged prelate, they inhumanly scourged him, they tore his
beard; and his naked body, anointed with honey, was suspended, in a net,
between heaven and earth, and exposed to the stings of insects and the
rays of a Syrian sun. From this lofty station, Mark still persisted to
glory in his crime, and to insult the impotent rage of his persecutors.
He was at length rescued from their hands, and dismissed to enjoy the
honor of his divine triumph. The Arians celebrated the virtue of their
pious confessor; the Catholics ambitiously claimed his alliance; and the
Pagans, who might be susceptible of shame or remorse, were deterred from
the repetition of such unavailing cruelty. Julian spared his life: but
if the bishop of Arethusa had saved the infancy of Julian, posterity
will condemn the ingratitude, instead of praising the clemency, of the
emperor.
At the distance of five miles from Antioch, the Macedonian kings of
Syria had consecrated to Apollo one of the most elegant places of
devotion in the Pagan world. A magnificent temple rose in honor of
the god of light; and his colossal figure almost filled the capacious
sanctuary, which was enriched with gold and gems, and adorned by the
skill of the Grecian artists. The deity was represented in a bending
attitude, with a golden cup in his hand, pouring out a libation on the
earth; as if he supplicated the venerable mother to give to his arms the
cold and beauteous Daphne: for the spot was ennobled by fiction; and
the fancy of the Syrian poets had transported the amorous tale from the
banks of the Peneus to those of the Orontes. The ancient rites of Greece
were imitated by the royal colony of Antioch. A stream of prophecy,
which rivalled the truth and reputation of the Delphic oracle, flowed
from the Castalian fountain of Daphne. In the adjacent fields a stadium
was built by a special privilege, which had been purchased from Elis;
the Olympic games were celebrated at the expense of the city; and a
revenue of thirty thousand pounds sterling was annually applied to
the public pleasures. The perpetual resort of pilgrims and spectators
insensibly formed, in the neighborhood of the temple, the stately
and populous village of Daphne, which emulated the splendor, without
acquiring the title, of a provincial city. The temple and the village
were deeply bosomed in a thick grove of laurels and cypresses, which
reached as far as a circumference of ten miles, and formed in the most
sultry summers a cool and impenetrable shade. A thousand streams of
the purest water, issuing from every hill, preserved the verdure of the
earth, and the temperature of the air; the senses were gratified
with harmonious sounds and aromatic odors; and the peaceful grove was
consecrated to health and joy, to luxury and love. The vigorous youth
pursued, like Apollo, the object of his desires; and the blushing maid
was warned, by the fate of Daphne, to shun the folly of unseasonable
coyness. The soldier and the philosopher wisely avoided the temptation
of this sensual paradise: where pleasure, assuming the character of
religion, imperceptibly dissolved the firmness of manly virtue. But
the groves of Daphne continued for many ages to enjoy the veneration of
natives and strangers; the privileges of the holy ground were enlarged
by the munificence of succeeding emperors; and every generation added
new ornaments to the splendor of the temple.
When Julian, on the day of the annual festival, hastened to adore
the Apollo of Daphne, his devotion was raised to the highest pitch
of eagerness and impatience. His lively imagination anticipated the
grateful pomp of victims, of libations and of incense; a long procession
of youths and virgins, clothed in white robes, the symbol of their
innocence; and the tumultuous concourse of an innumerable people. But
the zeal of Antioch was diverted, since the reign of Christianity, into
a different channel. Instead of hecatombs of fat oxen sacrificed by the
tribes of a wealthy city to their tutelar deity the emperor complains
that he found only a single goose, provided at the expense of a priest,
the pale and solitary in habitant of this decayed temple. The altar was
deserted, the oracle had been reduced to silence, and the holy ground
was profaned by the introduction of Christian and funereal rites. After
Babylas (a bishop of Antioch, who died in prison in the persecution of
Decius) had rested near a century in his grave, his body, by the order
of CÊsar Gallus, was transported into the midst of the grove of Daphne.
A magnificent church was erected over his remains; a portion of the
sacred lands was usurped for the maintenance of the clergy, and for the
burial of the Christians at Antioch, who were ambitious of lying at
the feet of their bishop; and the priests of Apollo retired, with their
affrighted and indignant votaries. As soon as another revolution seemed
to restore the fortune of Paganism, the church of St. Babylas was
demolished, and new buildings were added to the mouldering edifice which
had been raised by the piety of Syrian kings. But the first and most
serious care of Julian was to deliver his oppressed deity from
the odious presence of the dead and living Christians, who had so
effectually suppressed the voice of fraud or enthusiasm. The scene of
infection was purified, according to the forms of ancient rituals;
the bodies were decently removed; and the ministers of the church
were permitted to convey the remains of St. Babylas to their former
habitation within the walls of Antioch. The modest behavior which might
have assuaged the jealousy of a hostile government was neglected,
on this occasion, by the zeal of the Christians. The lofty car, that
transported the relics of Babylas, was followed, and accompanied, and
received, by an innumerable multitude; who chanted, with thundering
acclamations, the Psalms of David the most expressive of their contempt
for idols and idolaters. The return of the saint was a triumph; and the
triumph was an insult on the religion of the emperor, who exerted his
pride to dissemble his resentment. During the night which terminated
this indiscreet procession, the temple of Daphne was in flames; the
statue of Apollo was consumed; and the walls of the edifice were left
a naked and awful monument of ruin. The Christians of Antioch asserted,
with religious confidence, that the powerful intercession of St. Babylas
had pointed the lightnings of heaven against the devoted roof: but as
Julian was reduced to the alternative of believing either a crime or a
miracle, he chose, without hesitation, without evidence, but with some
color of probability, to impute the fire of Daphne to the revenge of the
GalilÊans. Their offence, had it been sufficiently proved, might have
justified the retaliation, which was immediately executed by the order
of Julian, of shutting the doors, and confiscating the wealth, of the
cathedral of Antioch. To discover the criminals who were guilty of the
tumult, of the fire, or of secreting the riches of the church, several
of the ecclesiastics were tortured; and a Presbyter, of the name of
Theodoret, was beheaded by the sentence of the Count of the East. But
this hasty act was blamed by the emperor; who lamented, with real or
affected concern, that the imprudent zeal of his ministers would tarnish
his reign with the disgrace of persecution.
Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.--Part V.
The zeal of the ministers of Julian was instantly checked by the frown
of their sovereign; but when the father of his country declares himself
the leader of a faction, the license of popular fury cannot easily be
restrained, nor consistently punished. Julian, in a public composition,
applauds the devotion and loyalty of the holy cities of Syria, whose
pious inhabitants had destroyed, at the first signal, the sepulchres
of the GalilÊans; and faintly complains, that they had revenged
the injuries of the gods with less moderation than he should have
recommended. This imperfect and reluctant confession may appear to
confirm the ecclesiastical narratives; that in the cities of Gaza,
Ascalon, CÊsarea, Heliopolis, &c., the Pagans abused, without prudence
or remorse, the moment of their prosperity. That the unhappy objects
of their cruelty were released from torture only by death; and as their
mangled bodies were dragged through the streets, they were pierced
(such was the universal rage) by the spits of cooks, and the distaffs of
enraged women; and that the entrails of Christian priests and virgins,
after they had been tasted by those bloody fanatics, were mixed with
barley, and contemptuously thrown to the unclean animals of the city.
Such scenes of religious madness exhibit the most contemptible and
odious picture of human nature; but the massacre of Alexandria attracts
still more attention, from the certainty of the fact, the rank of the
victims, and the splendor of the capital of Egypt.
George, from his parents or his education, surnamed the Cappadocian, was
born at Epiphania in Cilicia, in a fuller's shop. From this obscure and
servile origin he raised himself by the talents of a parasite; and the
patrons, whom he assiduously flattered, procured for their worthless
dependent a lucrative commission, or contract, to supply the army with
bacon. His employment was mean; he rendered it infamous. He accumulated
wealth by the basest arts of fraud and corruption; but his malversations
were so notorious, that George was compelled to escape from the pursuits
of justice. After this disgrace, in which he appears to have saved his
fortune at the expense of his honor, he embraced, with real or affected
zeal, the profession of Arianism. From the love, or the ostentation,
of learning, he collected a valuable library of history rhetoric,
philosophy, and theology, and the choice of the prevailing faction
promoted George of Cappadocia to the throne of Athanasius. The entrance
of the new archbishop was that of a Barbarian conqueror; and each moment
of his reign was polluted by cruelty and avarice. The Catholics of
Alexandria and Egypt were abandoned to a tyrant, qualified, by nature
and education, to exercise the office of persecution; but he oppressed
with an impartial hand the various inhabitants of his extensive diocese.
The primate of Egypt assumed the pomp and insolence of his lofty
station; but he still betrayed the vices of his base and servile
extraction. The merchants of Alexandria were impoverished by the unjust,
and almost universal, monopoly, which he acquired, of nitre, salt,
paper, funerals, &c.: and the spiritual father of a great people
condescended to practise the vile and pernicious arts of an informer.
The Alexandrians could never forget, nor forgive, the tax, which he
suggested, on all the houses of the city; under an obsolete claim, that
the royal founder had conveyed to his successors, the Ptolemies and the
CÊsars, the perpetual property of the soil. The Pagans, who had been
flattered with the hopes of freedom and toleration, excited his devout
avarice; and the rich temples of Alexandria were either pillaged or
insulted by the haughty prince, who exclaimed, in a loud and threatening
tone, "How long will these sepulchres be permitted to stand?" Under
the reign of Constantius, he was expelled by the fury, or rather by the
justice, of the people; and it was not without a violent struggle, that
the civil and military powers of the state could restore his authority,
and gratify his revenge. The messenger who proclaimed at Alexandria the
accession of Julian, announced the downfall of the archbishop. George,
with two of his obsequious ministers, Count Diodorus, and Dracontius,
master of the mint were ignominiously dragged in chains to the public
prison. At the end of twenty-four days, the prison was forced open by
the rage of a superstitious multitude, impatient of the tedious forms
of judicial proceedings. The enemies of gods and men expired under their
cruel insults; the lifeless bodies of the archbishop and his associates
were carried in triumph through the streets on the back of a camel;
* and the inactivity of the Athanasian party was esteemed a shining
example of evangelical patience. The remains of these guilty wretches
were thrown into the sea; and the popular leaders of the tumult declared
their resolution to disappoint the devotion of the Christians, and to
intercept the future honors of these martyrs, who had been punished,
like their predecessors, by the enemies of their religion. The fears of
the Pagans were just, and their precautions ineffectual. The meritorious
death of the archbishop obliterated the memory of his life. The rival of
Athanasius was dear and sacred to the Arians, and the seeming conversion
of those sectaries introduced his worship into the bosom of the Catholic
church. The odious stranger, disguising every circumstance of time and
place, assumed the mask of a martyr, a saint, and a Christian hero; and
the infamous George of Cappadocia has been transformed into the renowned
St. George of England, the patron of arms, of chivalry, and of the
garter.
About the same time that Julian was informed of the tumult of
Alexandria, he received intelligence from Edessa, that the proud
and wealthy faction of the Arians had insulted the weakness of the
Valentinians, and committed such disorders as ought not to be suffered
with impunity in a well-regulated state. Without expecting the slow
forms of justice, the exasperated prince directed his mandate to the
magistrates of Edessa, by which he confiscated the whole property of
the church: the money was distributed among the soldiers; the lands were
added to the domain; and this act of oppression was aggravated by the
most ungenerous irony. "I show myself," says Julian, "the true friend of
the GalilÊans. Their admirable law has promised the kingdom of heaven
to the poor; and they will advance with more diligence in the paths of
virtue and salvation, when they are relieved by my assistance from the
load of temporal possessions. Take care," pursued the monarch, in a more
serious tone, "take care how you provoke my patience and humanity. If
these disorders continue, I will revenge on the magistrates the crimes
of the people; and you will have reason to dread, not only confiscation
and exile, but fire and the sword." The tumults of Alexandria were
doubtless of a more bloody and dangerous nature: but a Christian bishop
had fallen by the hands of the Pagans; and the public epistle of Julian
affords a very lively proof of the partial spirit of his administration.
His reproaches to the citizens of Alexandria are mingled with
expressions of esteem and tenderness; and he laments, that, on this
occasion, they should have departed from the gentle and generous manners
which attested their Grecian extraction. He gravely censures the offence
which they had committed against the laws of justice and humanity; but
he recapitulates, with visible complacency, the intolerable provocations
which they had so long endured from the impious tyranny of George
of Cappadocia. Julian admits the principle, that a wise and vigorous
government should chastise the insolence of the people; yet, in
consideration of their founder Alexander, and of Serapis their tutelar
deity, he grants a free and gracious pardon to the guilty city, for
which he again feels the affection of a brother.
After the tumult of Alexandria had subsided, Athanasius, amidst the
public acclamations, seated himself on the throne from whence his
unworthy competitor had been precipitated: and as the zeal of the
archbishop was tempered with discretion, the exercise of his authority
tended not to inflame, but to reconcile, the minds of the people. His
pastoral labors were not confined to the narrow limits of Egypt. The
state of the Christian world was present to his active and capacious
mind; and the age, the merit, the reputation of Athanasius, enabled him
to assume, in a moment of danger, the office of Ecclesiastical Dictator.
Three years were not yet elapsed since the majority of the bishops of
the West had ignorantly, or reluctantly, subscribed the Confession of
Rimini. They repented, they believed, but they dreaded the unseasonable
rigor of their orthodox brethren; and if their pride was stronger than
their faith, they might throw themselves into the arms of the Arians, to
escape the indignity of a public penance, which must degrade them to the
condition of obscure laymen. At the same time the domestic differences
concerning the union and distinction of the divine persons, were
agitated with some heat among the Catholic doctors; and the progress of
this metaphysical controversy seemed to threaten a public and lasting
division of the Greek and Latin churches. By the wisdom of a select
synod, to which the name and presence of Athanasius gave the authority
of a general council, the bishops, who had unwarily deviated into error,
were admitted to the communion of the church, on the easy condition of
subscribing the Nicene Creed; without any formal acknowledgment of their
past fault, or any minute definition of their scholastic opinions. The
advice of the primate of Egypt had already prepared the clergy of Gaul
and Spain, of Italy and Greece, for the reception of this salutary
measure; and, notwithstanding the opposition of some ardent spirits,
the fear of the common enemy promoted the peace and harmony of the
Christians.