The skill and diligence of the primate of Egypt had improved the season

of tranquillity, before it was interrupted by the hostile edicts of the

emperor. Julian, who despised the Christians, honored Athanasius with

his sincere and peculiar hatred. For his sake alone, he introduced an

arbitrary distinction, repugnant at least to the spirit of his former

declarations. He maintained, that the GalilÊans, whom he had recalled

from exile, were not restored, by that general indulgence, to

the possession of their respective churches; and he expressed his

astonishment, that a criminal, who had been repeatedly condemned by the

judgment of the emperors, should dare to insult the majesty of the laws,

and insolently usurp the archiepiscopal throne of Alexandria, without

expecting the orders of his sovereign. As a punishment for the imaginary

offence, he again banished Athanasius from the city; and he was pleased

to suppose, that this act of justice would be highly agreeable to his

pious subjects. The pressing solicitations of the people soon convinced

him, that the majority of the Alexandrians were Christians; and that

the greatest part of the Christians were firmly attached to the cause of

their oppressed primate. But the knowledge of their sentiments, instead

of persuading him to recall his decree, provoked him to extend to all

Egypt the term of the exile of Athanasius. The zeal of the multitude

rendered Julian still more inexorable: he was alarmed by the danger of

leaving at the head of a tumultuous city, a daring and popular leader;

and the language of his resentment discovers the opinion which he

entertained of the courage and abilities of Athanasius. The execution

of the sentence was still delayed, by the caution or negligence of

Ecdicius, prÊfect of Egypt, who was at length awakened from his lethargy

by a severe reprimand. "Though you neglect," says Julian, "to write to

me on any other subject, at least it is your duty to inform me of your

conduct towards Athanasius, the enemy of the gods. My intentions have

been long since communicated to you. I swear by the great Serapis,

that unless, on the calends of December, Athanasius has departed from

Alexandria, nay, from Egypt, the officers of your government shall pay

a fine of one hundred pounds of gold. You know my temper: I am slow to

condemn, but I am still slower to forgive." This epistle was enforced by

a short postscript, written with the emperor's own hand. "The contempt

that is shown for all the gods fills me with grief and indignation.

There is nothing that I should see, nothing that I should hear, with

more pleasure, than the expulsion of Athanasius from all Egypt. The

abominable wretch! Under my reign, the baptism of several Grecian ladies

of the highest rank has been the effect of his persecutions." The death

of Athanasius was not expressly commanded; but the prÊfect of Egypt

understood that it was safer for him to exceed, than to neglect, the

orders of an irritated master. The archbishop prudently retired to the

monasteries of the Desert; eluded, with his usual dexterity, the snares

of the enemy; and lived to triumph over the ashes of a prince, who, in

words of formidable import, had declared his wish that the whole

venom of the GalilÊan school were contained in the single person of

Athanasius.

I have endeavored faithfully to represent the artful system by which

Julian proposed to obtain the effects, without incurring the guilt,

or reproach, of persecution. But if the deadly spirit of fanaticism

perverted the heart and understanding of a virtuous prince, it must, at

the same time, be confessed that the real sufferings of the Christians

were inflamed and magnified by human passions and religious enthusiasm.

The meekness and resignation which had distinguished the primitive

disciples of the gospel, was the object of the applause, rather than of

the imitation of their successors. The Christians, who had now possessed

above forty years the civil and ecclesiastical government of the empire,

had contracted the insolent vices of prosperity, and the habit of

believing that the saints alone were entitled to reign over the earth.

As soon as the enmity of Julian deprived the clergy of the privileges

which had been conferred by the favor of Constantine, they complained

of the most cruel oppression; and the free toleration of idolaters and

heretics was a subject of grief and scandal to the orthodox party. The

acts of violence, which were no longer countenanced by the magistrates,

were still committed by the zeal of the people. At Pessinus, the altar

of Cybele was overturned almost in the presence of the emperor; and in

the city of CÊsarea in Cappadocia, the temple of Fortune, the sole place

of worship which had been left to the Pagans, was destroyed by the rage

of a popular tumult. On these occasions, a prince, who felt for the

honor of the gods, was not disposed to interrupt the course of justice;

and his mind was still more deeply exasperated, when he found that the

fanatics, who had deserved and suffered the punishment of incendiaries,

were rewarded with the honors of martyrdom. The Christian subjects of

Julian were assured of the hostile designs of their sovereign; and, to

their jealous apprehension, every circumstance of his government

might afford some grounds of discontent and suspicion. In the ordinary

administration of the laws, the Christians, who formed so large a

part of the people, must frequently be condemned: but their indulgent

brethren, without examining the merits of the cause, presumed their

innocence, allowed their claims, and imputed the severity of their judge

to the partial malice of religious persecution. These present hardships,

intolerable as they might appear, were represented as a slight prelude

of the impending calamities. The Christians considered Julian as a cruel

and crafty tyrant; who suspended the execution of his revenge till he

should return victorious from the Persian war. They expected, that as

soon as he had triumphed over the foreign enemies of Rome, he would lay

aside the irksome mask of dissimulation; that the amphitheatre would

stream with the blood of hermits and bishops; and that the Christians

who still persevered in the profession of the faith, would be deprived

of the common benefits of nature and society. Every calumny that could

wound the reputation of the Apostate, was credulously embraced by

the fears and hatred of his adversaries; and their indiscreet clamors

provoked the temper of a sovereign, whom it was their duty to respect,

and their interest to flatter. They still protested, that prayers and

tears were their only weapons against the impious tyrant, whose head

they devoted to the justice of offended Heaven. But they insinuated,

with sullen resolution, that their submission was no longer the effect

of weakness; and that, in the imperfect state of human virtue,

the patience, which is founded on principle, may be exhausted by

persecution. It is impossible to determine how far the zeal of Julian

would have prevailed over his good sense and humanity; but if we

seriously reflect on the strength and spirit of the church, we shall be

convinced, that before the emperor could have extinguished the religion

of Christ, he must have involved his country in the horrors of a civil

war.

Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.--Part I.

Residence Of Julian At Antioch.--His Successful Expedition

Against The Persians.--Passage Of The Tigris--The Retreat

And Death Of Julian.--Election Of Jovian.--He Saves The

Roman Army By A Disgraceful Treaty.

The philosophical fable which Julian composed under the name of the

CÊsars, is one of the most agreeable and instructive productions

of ancient wit. During the freedom and equality of the days of the

Saturnalia, Romulus prepared a feast for the deities of Olympus, who had

adopted him as a worthy associate, and for the Roman princes, who had

reigned over his martial people, and the vanquished nations of the

earth. The immortals were placed in just order on their thrones of

state, and the table of the CÊsars was spread below the Moon in the

upper region of the air. The tyrants, who would have disgraced the

society of gods and men, were thrown headlong, by the inexorable

Nemesis, into the Tartarean abyss. The rest of the CÊsars successively

advanced to their seats; and as they passed, the vices, the defects, the

blemishes of their respective characters, were maliciously noticed

by old Silenus, a laughing moralist, who disguised the wisdom of a

philosopher under the mask of a Bacchanal. As soon as the feast was

ended, the voice of Mercury proclaimed the will of Jupiter, that a

celestial crown should be the reward of superior merit. Julius CÊsar,

Augustus, Trajan, and Marcus Antoninus, were selected as the most

illustrious candidates; the effeminate Constantine was not excluded

from this honorable competition, and the great Alexander was invited to

dispute the prize of glory with the Roman heroes. Each of the candidates

was allowed to display the merit of his own exploits; but, in the

judgment of the gods, the modest silence of Marcus pleaded more

powerfully than the elaborate orations of his haughty rivals. When the

judges of this awful contest proceeded to examine the heart, and to

scrutinize the springs of action, the superiority of the Imperial Stoic

appeared still more decisive and conspicuous. Alexander and CÊsar,

Augustus, Trajan, and Constantine, acknowledged, with a blush, that

fame, or power, or pleasure had been the important object of their

labors: but the gods themselves beheld, with reverence and love,

a virtuous mortal, who had practised on the throne the lessons of

philosophy; and who, in a state of human imperfection, had aspired to

imitate the moral attributes of the Deity. The value of this agreeable

composition (the CÊsars of Julian) is enhanced by the rank of the

author. A prince, who delineates, with freedom, the vices and virtues of

his predecessors, subscribes, in every line, the censure or approbation

of his own conduct.

In the cool moments of reflection, Julian preferred the useful and

benevolent virtues of Antoninus; but his ambitious spirit was inflamed

by the glory of Alexander; and he solicited, with equal ardor, the

esteem of the wise, and the applause of the multitude. In the season of

life when the powers of the mind and body enjoy the most active vigor,

the emperor who was instructed by the experience, and animated by the

success, of the German war, resolved to signalize his reign by some more

splendid and memorable achievement. The ambassadors of the East, from

the continent of India, and the Isle of Ceylon, had respectfully saluted

the Roman purple. The nations of the West esteemed and dreaded the

personal virtues of Julian, both in peace and war. He despised the

trophies of a Gothic victory, and was satisfied that the rapacious

Barbarians of the Danube would be restrained from any future violation

of the faith of treaties by the terror of his name, and the additional

fortifications with which he strengthened the Thracian and Illyrian

frontiers. The successor of Cyrus and Artaxerxes was the only rival whom

he deemed worthy of his arms; and he resolved, by the final conquest of

Persia, to chastise the naughty nation which had so long resisted

and insulted the majesty of Rome. As soon as the Persian monarch was

informed that the throne of Constantius was filed by a prince of a very

different character, he condescended to make some artful, or perhaps

sincere, overtures towards a negotiation of peace. But the pride of

Sapor was astonished by the firmness of Julian; who sternly declared,

that he would never consent to hold a peaceful conference among the

flames and ruins of the cities of Mesopotamia; and who added, with a

smile of contempt, that it was needless to treat by ambassadors, as

he himself had determined to visit speedily the court of Persia.

The impatience of the emperor urged the diligence of the military

preparations. The generals were named; and Julian, marching from

Constantinople through the provinces of Asia Minor, arrived at Antioch

about eight months after the death of his predecessor. His ardent desire

to march into the heart of Persia, was checked by the indispensable duty

of regulating the state of the empire; by his zeal to revive the worship

of the gods; and by the advice of his wisest friends; who represented

the necessity of allowing the salutary interval of winter quarters,

to restore the exhausted strength of the legions of Gaul, and the

discipline and spirit of the Eastern troops. Julian was persuaded to

fix, till the ensuing spring, his residence at Antioch, among a people

maliciously disposed to deride the haste, and to censure the delays, of

their sovereign.

If Julian had flattered himself, that his personal connection with the

capital of the East would be productive of mutual satisfaction to the

prince and people, he made a very false estimate of his own character,

and of the manners of Antioch. The warmth of the climate disposed the

natives to the most intemperate enjoyment of tranquillity and opulence;

and the lively licentiousness of the Greeks was blended with the

hereditary softness of the Syrians. Fashion was the only law, pleasure

the only pursuit, and the splendor of dress and furniture was the only

distinction of the citizens of Antioch. The arts of luxury were honored;

the serious and manly virtues were the subject of ridicule; and the

contempt for female modesty and reverent age announced the universal

corruption of the capital of the East. The love of spectacles was the

taste, or rather passion, of the Syrians; the most skilful artists were

procured from the adjacent cities; a considerable share of the revenue

was devoted to the public amusements; and the magnificence of the games

of the theatre and circus was considered as the happiness and as the

glory of Antioch. The rustic manners of a prince who disdained such

glory, and was insensible of such happiness, soon disgusted the delicacy

of his subjects; and the effeminate Orientals could neither imitate,

nor admire, the severe simplicity which Julian always maintained, and

sometimes affected. The days of festivity, consecrated, by ancient

custom, to the honor of the gods, were the only occasions in which

Julian relaxed his philosophic severity; and those festivals were the

only days in which the Syrians of Antioch could reject the allurements

of pleasure. The majority of the people supported the glory of the

Christian name, which had been first invented by their ancestors: they

contended themselves with disobeying the moral precepts, but they were

scrupulously attached to the speculative doctrines of their religion.

The church of Antioch was distracted by heresy and schism; but the

Arians and the Athanasians, the followers of Meletius and those of

Paulinus, were actuated by the same pious hatred of their common

adversary.

The strongest prejudice was entertained against the character of an

apostate, the enemy and successor of a prince who had engaged the

affections of a very numerous sect; and the removal of St. Babylas

excited an implacable opposition to the person of Julian. His subjects

complained, with superstitious indignation, that famine had pursued the

emperor's steps from Constantinople to Antioch; and the discontent of

a hungry people was exasperated by the injudicious attempt to relieve

their distress. The inclemency of the season had affected the harvests

of Syria; and the price of bread, in the markets of Antioch, had

naturally risen in proportion to the scarcity of corn. But the fair

and reasonable proportion was soon violated by the rapacious arts of

monopoly. In this unequal contest, in which the produce of the land is

claimed by one party as his exclusive property, is used by another as a

lucrative object of trade, and is required by a third for the daily and

necessary support of life, all the profits of the intermediate agents

are accumulated on the head of the defenceless customers. The hardships

of their situation were exaggerated and increased by their own

impatience and anxiety; and the apprehension of a scarcity gradually

produced the appearances of a famine. When the luxurious citizens

of Antioch complained of the high price of poultry and fish, Julian

publicly declared, that a frugal city ought to be satisfied with a

regular supply of wine, oil, and bread; but he acknowledged, that it was

the duty of a sovereign to provide for the subsistence of his people.

With this salutary view, the emperor ventured on a very dangerous and

doubtful step, of fixing, by legal authority, the value of corn. He

enacted, that, in a time of scarcity, it should be sold at a price which

had seldom been known in the most plentiful years; and that his own

example might strengthen his laws, he sent into the market four hundred

and twenty-two thousand modii, or measures, which were drawn by his

order from the granaries of Hierapolis, of Chalcis, and even of Egypt.

The consequences might have been foreseen, and were soon felt. The

Imperial wheat was purchased by the rich merchants; the proprietors of

land, or of corn, withheld from the city the accustomed supply; and the

small quantities that appeared in the market were secretly sold at an

advanced and illegal price. Julian still continued to applaud his own

policy, treated the complaints of the people as a vain and ungrateful

murmur, and convinced Antioch that he had inherited the obstinacy,

though not the cruelty, of his brother Gallus. The remonstrances of the

municipal senate served only to exasperate his inflexible mind. He

was persuaded, perhaps with truth, that the senators of Antioch who

possessed lands, or were concerned in trade, had themselves contributed

to the calamities of their country; and he imputed the disrespectful

boldness which they assumed, to the sense, not of public duty, but of

private interest. The whole body, consisting of two hundred of the most

noble and wealthy citizens, were sent, under a guard, from the palace to

the prison; and though they were permitted, before the close of evening,

to return to their respective houses, the emperor himself could

not obtain the forgiveness which he had so easily granted. The same

grievances were still the subject of the same complaints, which were

industriously circulated by the wit and levity of the Syrian Greeks.

During the licentious days of the Saturnalia, the streets of the city

resounded with insolent songs, which derided the laws, the religion,

the personal conduct, and even the beard, of the emperor; the spirit

of Antioch was manifested by the connivance of the magistrates, and

the applause of the multitude. The disciple of Socrates was too deeply

affected by these popular insults; but the monarch, endowed with a quick

sensibility, and possessed of absolute power, refused his passions

the gratification of revenge. A tyrant might have proscribed, without

distinction, the lives and fortunes of the citizens of Antioch; and

the unwarlike Syrians must have patiently submitted to the lust, the

rapaciousness and the cruelty, of the faithful legions of Gaul. A milder

sentence might have deprived the capital of the East of its honors and

privileges; and the courtiers, perhaps the subjects, of Julian, would

have applauded an act of justice, which asserted the dignity of the

supreme magistrate of the republic. But instead of abusing, or exerting,

the authority of the state, to revenge his personal injuries, Julian

contented himself with an inoffensive mode of retaliation, which it

would be in the power of few princes to employ. He had been insulted

by satires and libels; in his turn, he composed, under the title of

the Enemy of the Beard, an ironical confession of his own faults, and a

severe satire on the licentious and effeminate manners of Antioch. This

Imperial reply was publicly exposed before the gates of the palace; and

the Misopogon still remains a singular monument of the resentment, the

wit, the humanity, and the indiscretion of Julian. Though he affected to

laugh, he could not forgive. His contempt was expressed, and his revenge

might be gratified, by the nomination of a governor worthy only of

such subjects; and the emperor, forever renouncing the ungrateful

city, proclaimed his resolution to pass the ensuing winter at Tarsus in

Cilicia.

Yet Antioch possessed one citizen, whose genius and virtues might atone,

in the opinion of Julian, for the vice and folly of his country. The

sophist Libanius was born in the capital of the East; he publicly

professed the arts of rhetoric and declamation at Nice, Nicomedia,

Constantinople, Athens, and, during the remainder of his life, at

Antioch. His school was assiduously frequented by the Grecian youth; his

disciples, who sometimes exceeded the number of eighty, celebrated their

incomparable master; and the jealousy of his rivals, who persecuted him

from one city to another, confirmed the favorable opinion which Libanius

ostentatiously displayed of his superior merit. The preceptors of Julian

had extorted a rash but solemn assurance, that he would never attend

the lectures of their adversary: the curiosity of the royal youth

was checked and inflamed: he secretly procured the writings of this

dangerous sophist, and gradually surpassed, in the perfect imitation

of his style, the most laborious of his domestic pupils. When Julian

ascended the throne, he declared his impatience to embrace and reward

the Syrian sophist, who had preserved, in a degenerate age, the

Grecian purity of taste, of manners, and of religion. The emperor's

prepossession was increased and justified by the discreet pride of his

favorite. Instead of pressing, with the foremost of the crowd, into

the palace of Constantinople, Libanius calmly expected his arrival

at Antioch; withdrew from court on the first symptoms of coldness and

indifference; required a formal invitation for each visit; and taught

his sovereign an important lesson, that he might command the obedience

of a subject, but that he must deserve the attachment of a friend.

The sophists of every age, despising, or affecting to despise, the

accidental distinctions of birth and fortune, reserve their esteem for

the superior qualities of the mind, with which they themselves are so

plentifully endowed. Julian might disdain the acclamations of a venal

court, who adored the Imperial purple; but he was deeply flattered by

the praise, the admonition, the freedom, and the envy of an independent

philosopher, who refused his favors, loved his person, celebrated his

fame, and protected his memory. The voluminous writings of Libanius

still exist; for the most part, they are the vain and idle compositions

of an orator, who cultivated the science of words; the productions of

a recluse student, whose mind, regardless of his contemporaries, was

incessantly fixed on the Trojan war and the Athenian commonwealth.

Yet the sophist of Antioch sometimes descended from this imaginary

elevation; he entertained a various and elaborate correspondence; he

praised the virtues of his own times; he boldly arraigned the abuse of

public and private life; and he eloquently pleaded the cause of Antioch

against the just resentment of Julian and Theodosius. It is the common

calamity of old age, to lose whatever might have rendered it desirable;

but Libanius experienced the peculiar misfortune of surviving the

religion and the sciences, to which he had consecrated his genius.

The friend of Julian was an indignant spectator of the triumph of

Christianity; and his bigotry, which darkened the prospect of the

visible world, did not inspire Libanius with any lively hopes of

celestial glory and happiness.

Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.--Part II.

The martial impatience of Julian urged him to take the field in the

beginning of the spring; and he dismissed, with contempt and reproach,

the senate of Antioch, who accompanied the emperor beyond the limits of

their own territory, to which he was resolved never to return. After a

laborious march of two days, he halted on the third at BerÊa, or Aleppo,

where he had the mortification of finding a senate almost entirely

Christian; who received with cold and formal demonstrations of respect

the eloquent sermon of the apostle of paganism. The son of one of

the most illustrious citizens of BerÊa, who had embraced, either from

interest or conscience, the religion of the emperor, was disinherited

by his angry parent. The father and the son were invited to the Imperial

table. Julian, placing himself between them, attempted, without success,

to inculcate the lesson and example of toleration; supported, with

affected calmness, the indiscreet zeal of the aged Christian, who seemed

to forget the sentiments of nature, and the duty of a subject; and at

length, turning towards the afflicted youth, "Since you have lost a

father," said he, "for my sake, it is incumbent on me to supply his

place." The emperor was received in a manner much more agreeable to

his wishes at BatnÊ, * a small town pleasantly seated in a grove of

cypresses, about twenty miles from the city of Hierapolis. The solemn

rites of sacrifice were decently prepared by the inhabitants of BatnÊ,

who seemed attached to the worship of their tutelar deities, Apollo and

Jupiter; but the serious piety of Julian was offended by the tumult of

their applause; and he too clearly discerned, that the smoke which arose

from their altars was the incense of flattery, rather than of devotion.

The ancient and magnificent temple which had sanctified, for so many

ages, the city of Hierapolis, no longer subsisted; and the consecrated

wealth, which afforded a liberal maintenance to more than three hundred

priests, might hasten its downfall. Yet Julian enjoyed the satisfaction

of embracing a philosopher and a friend, whose religious firmness had

withstood the pressing and repeated solicitations of Constantius and

Gallus, as often as those princes lodged at his house, in their passage

through Hierapolis. In the hurry of military preparation, and the

careless confidence of a familiar correspondence, the zeal of Julian

appears to have been lively and uniform. He had now undertaken an

important and difficult war; and the anxiety of the event rendered him

still more attentive to observe and register the most trifling presages,

from which, according to the rules of divination, any knowledge of

futurity could be derived. He informed Libanius of his progress as far

as Hierapolis, by an elegant epistle, which displays the facility of his

genius, and his tender friendship for the sophist of Antioch.

Hierapolis, * situate almost on the banks of the Euphrates, had

been appointed for the general rendezvous of the Roman troops, who

immediately passed the great river on a bridge of boats, which was

previously constructed. If the inclinations of Julian had been similar

to those of his predecessor, he might have wasted the active and

important season of the year in the circus of Samosata or in the

churches of Edessa. But as the warlike emperor, instead of Constantius,

had chosen Alexander for his model, he advanced without delay to CarrhÊ,

a very ancient city of Mesopotamia, at the distance of fourscore miles

from Hierapolis. The temple of the Moon attracted the devotion

of Julian; but the halt of a few days was principally employed in

completing the immense preparations of the Persian war. The secret of

the expedition had hitherto remained in his own breast; but as CarrhÊ

is the point of separation of the two great roads, he could no longer

conceal whether it was his design to attack the dominions of Sapor

on the side of the Tigris, or on that of the Euphrates. The emperor

detached an army of thirty thousand men, under the command of his

kinsman Procopius, and of Sebastian, who had been duke of Egypt. They

were ordered to direct their march towards Nisibis, and to secure

the frontier from the desultory incursions of the enemy, before they

attempted the passage of the Tigris. Their subsequent operations were

left to the discretion of the generals; but Julian expected, that after

wasting with fire and sword the fertile districts of Media and Adiabene,

they might arrive under the walls of Ctesiphon at the same time that he

himself, advancing with equal steps along the banks of the Euphrates,

should besiege the capital of the Persian monarchy. The success of this

well-concerted plan depended, in a great measure, on the powerful and

ready assistance of the king of Armenia, who, without exposing the

safety of his own dominions, might detach an army of four thousand

horse, and twenty thousand foot, to the assistance of the Romans. But

the feeble Arsaces Tiranus, king of Armenia, had degenerated still more

shamefully than his father Chosroes, from the manly virtues of the great

Tiridates; and as the pusillanimous monarch was averse to any enterprise

of danger and glory, he could disguise his timid indolence by the

more decent excuses of religion and gratitude. He expressed a pious

attachment to the memory of Constantius, from whose hands he had

received in marriage Olympias, the daughter of the prÊfect Ablavius; and

the alliance of a female, who had been educated as the destined wife of

the emperor Constans, exalted the dignity of a Barbarian king.

Tiranus professed the Christian religion; he reigned over a nation of

Christians; and he was restrained, by every principle of conscience and

interest, from contributing to the victory, which would consummate the

ruin of the church. The alienated mind of Tiranus was exasperated by the

indiscretion of Julian, who treated the king of Armenia as his slave,

and as the enemy of the gods. The haughty and threatening style of the

Imperial mandates awakened the secret indignation of a prince, who, in

the humiliating state of dependence, was still conscious of his royal

descent from the Arsacides, the lords of the East, and the rivals of the

Roman power.

The military dispositions of Julian were skilfully contrived to deceive

the spies and to divert the attention of Sapor. The legions appeared

to direct their march towards Nisibis and the Tigris. On a sudden they

wheeled to the right; traversed the level and naked plain of CarrhÊ; and

reached, on the third day, the banks of the Euphrates, where the strong

town of Nicephorium, or Callinicum, had been founded by the Macedonian

kings. From thence the emperor pursued his march, above ninety miles,

along the winding stream of the Euphrates, till, at length, about one

month after his departure from Antioch, he discovered the towers of

Circesium, * the extreme limit of the Roman dominions. The army of

Julian, the most numerous that any of the CÊsars had ever led against

Persia, consisted of sixty-five thousand effective and well-disciplined

soldiers. The veteran bands of cavalry and infantry, of Romans and

Barbarians, had been selected from the different provinces; and a just

preeminence of loyalty and valor was claimed by the hardy Gauls, who

guarded the throne and person of their beloved prince. A formidable body

of Scythian auxiliaries had been transported from another climate, and

almost from another world, to invade a distant country, of whose name

and situation they were ignorant. The love of rapine and war allured to

the Imperial standard several tribes of Saracens, or roving Arabs, whose

service Julian had commanded, while he sternly refuse the payment of the

accustomed subsidies. The broad channel of the Euphrates was crowded by

a fleet of eleven hundred ships, destined to attend the motions, and to

satisfy the wants, of the Roman army. The military strength of the fleet

was composed of fifty armed galleys; and these were accompanied by

an equal number of flat-bottomed boats, which might occasionally be

connected into the form of temporary bridges. The rest of the ships,

partly constructed of timber, and partly covered with raw hides, were

laden with an almost inexhaustible supply of arms and engines, of

utensils and provisions. The vigilant humanity of Julian had embarked a

very large magazine of vinegar and biscuit for the use of the soldiers,

but he prohibited the indulgence of wine; and rigorously stopped a long

string of superfluous camels that attempted to follow the rear of the

army. The River Chaboras falls into the Euphrates at Circesium; and

as soon as the trumpet gave the signal of march, the Romans passed the

little stream which separated two mighty and hostile empires. The custom

of ancient discipline required a military oration; and Julian embraced

every opportunity of displaying his eloquence. He animated the impatient

and attentive legions by the example of the inflexible courage and

glorious triumphs of their ancestors. He excited their resentment by a

lively picture of the insolence of the Persians; and he exhorted them to

imitate his firm resolution, either to extirpate that perfidious nation,

or to devote his life in the cause of the republic. The eloquence of

Julian was enforced by a donative of one hundred and thirty pieces of

silver to every soldier; and the bridge of the Chaboras was instantly

cut away, to convince the troops that they must place their hopes of

safety in the success of their arms. Yet the prudence of the emperor

induced him to secure a remote frontier, perpetually exposed to the

inroads of the hostile Arabs. A detachment of four thousand men was

left at Circesium, which completed, to the number of ten thousand, the

regular garrison of that important fortress.

From the moment that the Romans entered the enemy's country, the country

of an active and artful enemy, the order of march was disposed in three

columns. The strength of the infantry, and consequently of the whole

army was placed in the centre, under the peculiar command of their

master-general Victor. On the right, the brave Nevitta led a column of

several legions along the banks of the Euphrates, and almost always

in sight of the fleet. The left flank of the army was protected by the

column of cavalry. Hormisdas and ArinthÊus were appointed generals of

the horse; and the singular adventures of Hormisdas are not undeserving

of our notice. He was a Persian prince, of the royal race of the

Sassanides, who, in the troubles of the minority of Sapor, had escaped

from prison to the hospitable court of the great Constantine. Hormisdas

at first excited the compassion, and at length acquired the esteem,

of his new masters; his valor and fidelity raised him to the military

honors of the Roman service; and though a Christian, he might indulge

the secret satisfaction of convincing his ungrateful country, than

at oppressed subject may prove the most dangerous enemy. Such was the

disposition of the three principal columns. The front and flanks of

the army were covered by Lucilianus with a flying detachment of fifteen

hundred light-armed soldiers, whose active vigilance observed the

most distant signs, and conveyed the earliest notice, of any hostile

approach. Dagalaiphus, and Secundinus duke of Osrhoene, conducted

the troops of the rear-guard; the baggage securely proceeded in the

intervals of the columns; and the ranks, from a motive either of use

or ostentation, were formed in such open order, that the whole line of

march extended almost ten miles. The ordinary post of Julian was at the

head of the centre column; but as he preferred the duties of a general

to the state of a monarch, he rapidly moved, with a small escort of

light cavalry, to the front, the rear, the flanks, wherever his presence

could animate or protect the march of the Roman army. The country which

they traversed from the Chaboras, to the cultivated lands of Assyria,

may be considered as a part of the desert of Arabia, a dry and barren

waste, which could never be improved by the most powerful arts of human

industry. Julian marched over the same ground which had been trod above

seven hundred years before by the footsteps of the younger Cyrus, and

which is described by one of the companions of his expedition, the sage

and heroic Xenophon. "The country was a plain throughout, as even as the

sea, and full of wormwood; and if any other kind of shrubs or reeds

grew there, they had all an aromatic smell, but no trees could be seen.

Bustards and ostriches, antelopes and wild asses, appeared to be the

only inhabitants of the desert; and the fatigues of the march were

alleviated by the amusements of the chase." The loose sand of the desert

was frequently raised by the wind into clouds of dust; and a great

number of the soldiers of Julian, with their tents, were suddenly thrown

to the ground by the violence of an unexpected hurricane.

The sandy plains of Mesopotamia were abandoned to the antelopes and wild

asses of the desert; but a variety of populous towns and villages were

pleasantly situated on the banks of the Euphrates, and in the islands

which are occasionally formed by that river. The city of Annah, or

Anatho, the actual residence of an Arabian emir, is composed of two long

streets, which enclose, within a natural fortification, a small island

in the midst, and two fruitful spots on either side, of the Euphrates.

The warlike inhabitants of Anatho showed a disposition to stop the march

of a Roman emperor; till they were diverted from such fatal presumption

by the mild exhortations of Prince Hormisdas, and the approaching

terrors of the fleet and army. They implored, and experienced, the

clemency of Julian, who transplanted the people to an advantageous

settlement, near Chalcis in Syria, and admitted PusÊus, the governor,

to an honorable rank in his service and friendship. But the impregnable

fortress of Thilutha could scorn the menace of a siege; and the emperor

was obliged to content himself with an insulting promise, that, when he

had subdued the interior provinces of Persia, Thilutha would no longer

refuse to grace the triumph of the emperor. The inhabitants of the

open towns, unable to resist, and unwilling to yield, fled with

precipitation; and their houses, filled with spoil and provisions, were

occupied by the soldiers of Julian, who massacred, without remorse

and without punishment, some defenceless women. During the march, the

Surenas, * or Persian general, and Malek Rodosaces, the renowned emir of

the tribe of Gassan, incessantly hovered round the army; every straggler

was intercepted; every detachment was attacked; and the valiant

Hormisdas escaped with some difficulty from their hands. But the

Barbarians were finally repulsed; the country became every day less

favorable to the operations of cavalry; and when the Romans arrived

at Macepracta, they perceived the ruins of the wall, which had been

constructed by the ancient kings of Assyria, to secure their dominions

from the incursions of the Medes. These preliminaries of the expedition

of Julian appear to have employed about fifteen days; and we may compute

near three hundred miles from the fortress of Circesium to the wall of

Macepracta.

The fertile province of Assyria, which stretched beyond the Tigris, as

far as the mountains of Media, extended about four hundred miles from

the ancient wall of Macepracta, to the territory of Basra, where the

united streams of the Euphrates and Tigris discharge themselves into the

Persian Gulf. The whole country might have claimed the peculiar name of

Mesopotamia; as the two rivers, which are never more distant than fifty,

approach, between Bagdad and Babylon, within twenty-five miles, of each

other. A multitude of artificial canals, dug without much labor in a

soft and yielding soil connected the rivers, and intersected the

plain of Assyria. The uses of these artificial canals were various and

important. They served to discharge the superfluous waters from one

river into the other, at the season of their respective inundations.

Subdividing themselves into smaller and smaller branches, they refreshed

the dry lands, and supplied the deficiency of rain. They facilitated the

intercourse of peace and commerce; and, as the dams could be speedily

broke down, they armed the despair of the Assyrians with the means of

opposing a sudden deluge to the progress of an invading army. To the

soil and climate of Assyria, nature had denied some of her choicest

gifts, the vine, the olive, and the fig-tree; * but the food which

supports the life of man, and particularly wheat and barley, were

produced with inexhaustible fertility; and the husbandman, who committed

his seed to the earth, was frequently rewarded with an increase of two,

or even of three, hundred. The face of the country was interspersed with

groves of innumerable palm-trees; and the diligent natives celebrated,

either in verse or prose, the three hundred and sixty uses to which

the trunk, the branches, the leaves, the juice, and the fruit, were

skilfully applied. Several manufactures, especially those of leather and

linen, employed the industry of a numerous people, and afforded valuable

materials for foreign trade; which appears, however, to have been

conducted by the hands of strangers. Babylon had been converted into a

royal park; but near the ruins of the ancient capital, new cities had

successively arisen, and the populousness of the country was displayed

in the multitude of towns and villages, which were built of bricks dried

in the sun, and strongly cemented with bitumen; the natural and peculiar

production of the Babylonian soil. While the successors of Cyrus reigned

over Asia, the province of Syria alone maintained, during a third part

of the year, the luxurious plenty of the table and household of the

Great King. Four considerable villages were assigned for the subsistence

of his Indian dogs; eight hundred stallions, and sixteen thousand mares,

were constantly kept, at the expense of the country, for the royal

stables; and as the daily tribute, which was paid to the satrap,

amounted to one English bushel of silver, we may compute the annual

revenue of Assyria at more than twelve hundred thousand pounds sterling.

Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.--Part III.

The fields of Assyria were devoted by Julian to the calamities of war;

and the philosopher retaliated on a guiltless people the acts of rapine

and cruelty which had been committed by their haughty master in the

Roman provinces. The trembling Assyrians summoned the rivers to their

assistance; and completed, with their own hands, the ruin of their

country. The roads were rendered impracticable; a flood of waters was

poured into the camp; and, during several days, the troops of Julian

were obliged to contend with the most discouraging hardships. But every

obstacle was surmounted by the perseverance of the legionaries, who were

inured to toil as well as to danger, and who felt themselves animated

by the spirit of their leader. The damage was gradually repaired;

the waters were restored to their proper channels; whole groves of

palm-trees were cut down, and placed along the broken parts of the road;

and the army passed over the broad and deeper canals, on bridges of

floating rafts, which were supported by the help of bladders. Two cities

of Assyria presumed to resist the arms of a Roman emperor: and they

both paid the severe penalty of their rashness. At the distance of fifty

miles from the royal residence of Ctesiphon, Perisabor, * or Anbar,

held the second rank in the province; a city, large, populous, and well

fortified, surrounded with a double wall, almost encompassed by a branch

of the Euphrates, and defended by the valor of a numerous garrison. The

exhortations of Hormisdas were repulsed with contempt; and the ears of

the Persian prince were wounded by a just reproach, that, unmindful of

his royal birth, he conducted an army of strangers against his king and

country. The Assyrians maintained their loyalty by a skilful, as well

as vigorous, defence; till the lucky stroke of a battering-ram, having

opened a large breach, by shattering one of the angles of the wall, they

hastily retired into the fortifications of the interior citadel. The

soldiers of Julian rushed impetuously into the town, and after the

full gratification of every military appetite, Perisabor was reduced to

ashes; and the engines which assaulted the citadel were planted on the

ruins of the smoking houses. The contest was continued by an incessant

and mutual discharge of missile weapons; and the superiority which the

Romans might derive from the mechanical powers of their balistÊ and

catapultÊ was counterbalanced by the advantage of the ground on the side

of the besieged. But as soon as an Helepolis had been constructed, which

could engage on equal terms with the loftiest ramparts, the tremendous

aspect of a moving turret, that would leave no hope of resistance or

mercy, terrified the defenders of the citadel into an humble submission;

and the place was surrendered only two days after Julian first appeared

under the walls of Perisabor. Two thousand five hundred persons, of both

sexes, the feeble remnant of a flourishing people, were permitted

to retire; the plentiful magazines of corn, of arms, and of splendid

furniture, were partly distributed among the troops, and partly reserved

for the public service; the useless stores were destroyed by fire or

thrown into the stream of the Euphrates; and the fate of Amida was

revenged by the total ruin of Perisabor.

The city or rather fortress, of Maogamalcha, which was defended by

sixteen large towers, a deep ditch, and two strong and solid walls of

brick and bitumen, appears to have been constructed at the distance of

eleven miles, as the safeguard of the capital of Persia. The emperor,

apprehensive of leaving such an important fortress in his rear,

immediately formed the siege of Maogamalcha; and the Roman army was

distributed, for that purpose, into three divisions. Victor, at the head

of the cavalry, and of a detachment of heavy-armed foot, was ordered to

clear the country, as far as the banks of the Tigris, and the suburbs of

Ctesiphon. The conduct of the attack was assumed by Julian himself, who

seemed to place his whole dependence in the military engines which

he erected against the walls; while he secretly contrived a more

efficacious method of introducing his troops into the heart of the city

Under the direction of Nevitta and Dagalaiphus, the trenches were opened

at a considerable distance, and gradually prolonged as far as the edge

of the ditch. The ditch was speedily filled with earth; and, by the

incessant labor of the troops, a mine was carried under the foundations

of the walls, and sustained, at sufficient intervals, by props of

timber. Three chosen cohorts, advancing in a single file, silently

explored the dark and dangerous passage; till their intrepid leader

whispered back the intelligence, that he was ready to issue from his

confinement into the streets of the hostile city. Julian checked their

ardor, that he might insure their success; and immediately diverted

the attention of the garrison, by the tumult and clamor of a general

assault. The Persians, who, from their walls, contemptuously beheld the

progress of an impotent attack, celebrated with songs of triumph the

glory of Sapor; and ventured to assure the emperor, that he might

ascend the starry mansion of Ormusd, before he could hope to take the

impregnable city of Maogamalcha. The city was already taken. History has

recorded the name of a private soldier the first who ascended from the

mine into a deserted tower. The passage was widened by his companions,

who pressed forwards with impatient valor. Fifteen hundred enemies were

already in the midst of the city. The astonished garrison abandoned the

walls, and their only hope of safety; the gates were instantly burst

open; and the revenge of the soldier, unless it were suspended by lust

or avarice, was satiated by an undistinguishing massacre. The governor,

who had yielded on a promise of mercy, was burnt alive, a few days

afterwards, on a charge of having uttered some disrespectful words

against the honor of Prince Hormisdas. * The fortifications were razed

to the ground; and not a vestige was left, that the city of Maogamalcha

had ever existed. The neighborhood of the capital of Persia was adorned

with three stately palaces, laboriously enriched with every production

that could gratify the luxury and pride of an Eastern monarch. The

pleasant situation of the gardens along the banks of the Tigris, was

improved, according to the Persian taste, by the symmetry of flowers,

fountains, and shady walks: and spacious parks were enclosed for the

reception of the bears, lions, and wild boars, which were maintained

at a considerable expense for the pleasure of the royal chase. The park

walls were broken down, the savage game was abandoned to the darts of

the soldiers, and the palaces of Sapor were reduced to ashes, by the

command of the Roman emperor. Julian, on this occasion, showed himself

ignorant, or careless, of the laws of civility, which the prudence and

refinement of polished ages have established between hostile princes.

Yet these wanton ravages need not excite in our breasts any vehement

emotions of pity or resentment. A simple, naked statue, finished by the

hand of a Grecian artist, is of more genuine value than all these rude

and costly monuments of Barbaric labor; and, if we are more deeply

affected by the ruin of a palace than by the conflagration of a cottage,

our humanity must have formed a very erroneous estimate of the miseries

of human life.

Julian was an object of hatred and terror to the Persian and the

painters of that nation represented the invader of their country under

the emblem of a furious lion, who vomited from his mouth a consuming

fire. To his friends and soldiers the philosophic hero appeared in

a more amiable light; and his virtues were never more conspicuously

displayed, than in the last and most active period of his life. He

practised, without effort, and almost without merit, the habitual

qualities of temperance and sobriety. According to the dictates of that

artificial wisdom, which assumes an absolute dominion over the mind

and body, he sternly refused himself the indulgence of the most natural

appetites. In the warm climate of Assyria, which solicited a luxurious

people to the gratification of every sensual desire, a youthful

conqueror preserved his chastity pure and inviolate; nor was Julian ever

tempted, even by a motive of curiosity, to visit his female captives

of exquisite beauty, who, instead of resisting his power, would have

disputed with each other the honor of his embraces. With the same

firmness that he resisted the allurements of love, he sustained the

hardships of war. When the Romans marched through the flat and flooded

country, their sovereign, on foot, at the head of his legions, shared

their fatigues and animated their diligence. In every useful labor, the

hand of Julian was prompt and strenuous; and the Imperial purple was wet

and dirty as the coarse garment of the meanest soldier. The two sieges

allowed him some remarkable opportunities of signalizing his personal

valor, which, in the improved state of the military art, can seldom

be exerted by a prudent general. The emperor stood before the citadel

before the citadel of Perisabor, insensible of his extreme danger,

and encouraged his troops to burst open the gates of iron, till he was

almost overwhelmed under a cloud of missile weapons and huge stones,

that were directed against his person. As he examined the exterior

fortifications of Maogamalcha, two Persians, devoting themselves for

their country, suddenly rushed upon him with drawn cimeters: the emperor

dexterously received their blows on his uplifted shield; and, with a

steady and well-aimed thrust, laid one of his adversaries dead at

his feet. The esteem of a prince who possesses the virtues which he

approves, is the noblest recompense of a deserving subject; and the

authority which Julian derived from his personal merit, enabled him to

revive and enforce the rigor of ancient discipline. He punished with

death or ignominy the misbehavior of three troops of horse, who, in

a skirmish with the Surenas, had lost their honor and one of their

standards: and he distinguished with obsidional crowns the valor of the

foremost soldiers, who had ascended into the city of Maogamalcha. After

the siege of Perisabor, the firmness of the emperor was exercised by the

insolent avarice of the army, who loudly complained, that their services

were rewarded by a trifling donative of one hundred pieces of silver.

His just indignation was expressed in the grave and manly language of a

Roman. "Riches are the object of your desires; those riches are in

the hands of the Persians; and the spoils of this fruitful country are

proposed as the prize of your valor and discipline. Believe me," added

Julian, "the Roman republic, which formerly possessed such immense

treasures, is now reduced to want and wretchedness once our princes have

been persuaded, by weak and interested ministers, to purchase with gold

the tranquillity of the Barbarians. The revenue is exhausted; the

cities are ruined; the provinces are dispeopled. For myself, the only

inheritance that I have received from my royal ancestors is a soul

incapable of fear; and as long as I am convinced that every real

advantage is seated in the mind, I shall not blush to acknowledge an

honorable poverty, which, in the days of ancient virtue, was considered

as the glory of Fabricius. That glory, and that virtue, may be your own,

if you will listen to the voice of Heaven and of your leader. But if

you will rashly persist, if you are determined to renew the shameful and

mischievous examples of old seditions, proceed. As it becomes an emperor

who has filled the first rank among men, I am prepared to die, standing;

and to despise a precarious life, which, every hour, may depend on an

accidental fever. If I have been found unworthy of the command, there

are now among you, (I speak it with pride and pleasure,) there are many

chiefs whose merit and experience are equal to the conduct of the most

important war. Such has been the temper of my reign, that I can retire,

without regret, and without apprehension, to the obscurity of a private

station." The modest resolution of Julian was answered by the unanimous

applause and cheerful obedience of the Romans, who declared their

confidence of victory, while they fought under the banners of their

heroic prince. Their courage was kindled by his frequent and familiar

asseverations, (for such wishes were the oaths of Julian,) "So may I

reduce the Persians under the yoke!" "Thus may I restore the strength

and splendor of the republic!" The love of fame was the ardent

passion of his soul: but it was not before he trampled on the ruins of

Maogamalcha, that he allowed himself to say, "We have now provided some

materials for the sophist of Antioch."

The successful valor of Julian had triumphed over all the obstacles that

opposed his march to the gates of Ctesiphon. But the reduction, or even

the siege, of the capital of Persia, was still at a distance: nor can

the military conduct of the emperor be clearly apprehended, without a

knowledge of the country which was the theatre of his bold and skilful

operations. Twenty miles to the south of Bagdad, and on the eastern bank

of the Tigris, the curiosity of travellers has observed some ruins of

the palaces of Ctesiphon, which, in the time of Julian, was a great and

populous city. The name and glory of the adjacent Seleucia were forever

extinguished; and the only remaining quarter of that Greek colony

had resumed, with the Assyrian language and manners, the primitive

appellation of Coche. Coche was situate on the western side of the

Tigris; but it was naturally considered as a suburb of Ctesiphon, with

which we may suppose it to have been connected by a permanent bridge

of boats. The united parts contribute to form the common epithet of

Al Modain, the cities, which the Orientals have bestowed on the winter

residence of the Sassinades; and the whole circumference of the Persian

capital was strongly fortified by the waters of the river, by lofty

walls, and by impracticable morasses. Near the ruins of Seleucia, the

camp of Julian was fixed, and secured, by a ditch and rampart, against

the sallies of the numerous and enterprising garrison of Coche. In this

fruitful and pleasant country, the Romans were plentifully supplied with

water and forage: and several forts, which might have embarrassed the

motions of the army, submitted, after some resistance, to the efforts

of their valor. The fleet passed from the Euphrates into an artificial

derivation of that river, which pours a copious and navigable stream

into the Tigris, at a small distance below the great city. If they had

followed this royal canal, which bore the name of Nahar-Malcha, the

intermediate situation of Coche would have separated the fleet and army

of Julian; and the rash attempt of steering against the current of the

Tigris, and forcing their way through the midst of a hostile capital,

must have been attended with the total destruction of the Roman navy.

The prudence of the emperor foresaw the danger, and provided the remedy.

As he had minutely studied the operations of Trajan in the same country,

he soon recollected that his warlike predecessor had dug a new and

navigable canal, which, leaving Coche on the right hand, conveyed the

waters of the Nahar-Malcha into the river Tigris, at some distance above

the cities. From the information of the peasants, Julian ascertained the

vestiges of this ancient work, which were almost obliterated by design

or accident. By the indefatigable labor of the soldiers, a broad and

deep channel was speedily prepared for the reception of the Euphrates.

A strong dike was constructed to interrupt the ordinary current of the

Nahar-Malcha: a flood of waters rushed impetuously into their new bed;

and the Roman fleet, steering their triumphant course into the Tigris,

derided the vain and ineffectual barriers which the Persians of

Ctesiphon had erected to oppose their passage.

As it became necessary to transport the Roman army over the Tigris,

another labor presented itself, of less toil, but of more danger, than

the preceding expedition. The stream was broad and rapid; the ascent

steep and difficult; and the intrenchments which had been formed on the

ridge of the opposite bank, were lined with a numerous army of heavy

cuirassiers, dexterous archers, and huge elephants; who (according to

the extravagant hyperbole of Libanius) could trample with the same

ease a field of corn, or a legion of Romans. In the presence of such an

enemy, the construction of a bridge was impracticable; and the intrepid

prince, who instantly seized the only possible expedient, concealed

his design, till the moment of execution, from the knowledge of the

Barbarians, of his own troops, and even of his generals themselves.

Under the specious pretence of examining the state of the magazines,

fourscore vessels * were gradually unladen; and a select detachment,

apparently destined for some secret expedition, was ordered to stand to

their arms on the first signal. Julian disguised the silent anxiety of

his own mind with smiles of confidence and joy; and amused the hostile

nations with the spectacle of military games, which he insultingly

celebrated under the walls of Coche. The day was consecrated to

pleasure; but, as soon as the hour of supper was passed, the emperor

summoned the generals to his tent, and acquainted them that he had

fixed that night for the passage of the Tigris. They stood in silent

and respectful astonishment; but, when the venerable Sallust assumed the

privilege of his age and experience, the rest of the chiefs supported

with freedom the weight of his prudent remonstrances. Julian contented

himself with observing, that conquest and safety depended on the

attempt; that instead of diminishing, the number of their enemies would

be increased, by successive reenforcements; and that a longer delay

would neither contract the breadth of the stream, nor level the height

of the bank. The signal was instantly given, and obeyed; the most

impatient of the legionaries leaped into five vessels that lay nearest

to the bank; and as they plied their oars with intrepid diligence, they

were lost, after a few moments, in the darkness of the night. A flame

arose on the opposite side; and Julian, who too clearly understood

that his foremost vessels, in attempting to land, had been fired by

the enemy, dexterously converted their extreme danger into a presage

of victory. "Our fellow-soldiers," he eagerly exclaimed, "are already

masters of the bank; see--they make the appointed signal; let us hasten

to emulate and assist their courage." The united and rapid motion of

a great fleet broke the violence of the current, and they reached the

eastern shore of the Tigris with sufficient speed to extinguish the

flames, and rescue their adventurous companions. The difficulties of a

steep and lofty ascent were increased by the weight of armor, and

the darkness of the night. A shower of stones, darts, and fire, was

incessantly discharged on the heads of the assailants; who, after

an arduous struggle, climbed the bank and stood victorious upon the

rampart. As soon as they possessed a more equal field, Julian, who,

with his light infantry, had led the attack, darted through the ranks

a skilful and experienced eye: his bravest soldiers, according to the

precepts of Homer, were distributed in the front and rear: and all

the trumpets of the Imperial army sounded to battle. The Romans, after

sending up a military shout, advanced in measured steps to the animating

notes of martial music; launched their formidable javelins; and rushed

forwards with drawn swords, to deprive the Barbarians, by a closer

onset, of the advantage of their missile weapons. The whole engagement

lasted above twelve hours; till the gradual retreat of the Persians

was changed into a disorderly flight, of which the shameful example

was given by the principal leader, and the Surenas himself. They were

pursued to the gates of Ctesiphon; and the conquerors might have entered

the dismayed city, if their general, Victor, who was dangerously wounded

with an arrow, had not conjured them to desist from a rash attempt,

which must be fatal, if it were not successful. On their side, the

Romans acknowledged the loss of only seventy-five men; while they

affirmed, that the Barbarians had left on the field of battle two

thousand five hundred, or even six thousand, of their bravest soldiers.

The spoil was such as might be expected from the riches and luxury of

an Oriental camp; large quantities of silver and gold, splendid arms and

trappings, and beds and tables of massy silver. * The victorious emperor

distributed, as the rewards of valor, some honorable gifts, civic, and

mural, and naval crowns; which he, and perhaps he alone, esteemed more

precious than the wealth of Asia. A solemn sacrifice was offered to

the god of war, but the appearances of the victims threatened the most

inauspicious events; and Julian soon discovered, by less ambiguous

signs, that he had now reached the term of his prosperity.

On the second day after the battle, the domestic guards, the Jovians and

Herculians, and the remaining troops, which composed near two thirds of

the whole army, were securely wafted over the Tigris. While the Persians

beheld from the walls of Ctesiphon the desolation of the adjacent

country, Julian cast many an anxious look towards the North, in full

expectation, that as he himself had victoriously penetrated to the

capital of Sapor, the march and junction of his lieutenants, Sebastian

and Procopius, would be executed with the same courage and diligence.

His expectations were disappointed by the treachery of the Armenian

king, who permitted, and most probably directed, the desertion of his

auxiliary troops from the camp of the Romans; and by the dissensions of

the two generals, who were incapable of forming or executing any plan

for the public service. When the emperor had relinquished the hope of

this important reenforcement, he condescended to hold a council of war,

and approved, after a full debate, the sentiment of those generals,

who dissuaded the siege of Ctesiphon, as a fruitless and pernicious

undertaking. It is not easy for us to conceive, by what arts of

fortification a city thrice besieged and taken by the predecessors of

Julian could be rendered impregnable against an army of sixty thousand

Romans, commanded by a brave and experienced general, and abundantly

supplied with ships, provisions, battering engines, and military stores.

But we may rest assured, from the love of glory, and contempt of danger,

which formed the character of Julian, that he was not discouraged by any

trivial or imaginary obstacles. At the very time when he declined the

siege of Ctesiphon, he rejected, with obstinacy and disdain, the most

flattering offers of a negotiation of peace. Sapor, who had been so long

accustomed to the tardy ostentation of Constantius, was surprised by the

intrepid diligence of his successor. As far as the confines of India and

Scythia, the satraps of the distant provinces were ordered to assemble

their troops, and to march, without delay, to the assistance of their

monarch. But their preparations were dilatory, their motions slow;

and before Sapor could lead an army into the field, he received the

melancholy intelligence of the devastation of Assyria, the ruin of

his palaces, and the slaughter of his bravest troops, who defended the

passage of the Tigris. The pride of royalty was humbled in the dust; he

took his repasts on the ground; and the disorder of his hair expressed

the grief and anxiety of his mind. Perhaps he would not have refused to

purchase, with one half of his kingdom, the safety of the remainder;

and he would have gladly subscribed himself, in a treaty of peace, the

faithful and dependent ally of the Roman conqueror. Under the pretence

of private business, a minister of rank and confidence was secretly

despatched to embrace the knees of Hormisdas, and to request, in the

language of a suppliant, that he might be introduced into the presence

of the emperor. The Sassanian prince, whether he listened to the voice

of pride or humanity, whether he consulted the sentiments of his birth,

or the duties of his situation, was equally inclined to promote a

salutary measure, which would terminate the calamities of Persia, and

secure the triumph of Rome. He was astonished by the inflexible firmness

of a hero, who remembered, most unfortunately for himself and for his

country, that Alexander had uniformly rejected the propositions

of Darius. But as Julian was sensible, that the hope of a safe and

honorable peace might cool the ardor of his troops, he earnestly

requested that Hormisdas would privately dismiss the minister of Sapor,

and conceal this dangerous temptation from the knowledge of the camp.

Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.--Part IV.

The honor, as well as interest, of Julian, forbade him to consume his

time under the impregnable walls of Ctesiphon and as often as he defied

the Barbarians, who defended the city, to meet him on the open plain,

they prudently replied, that if he desired to exercise his valor,

he might seek the army of the Great King. He felt the insult, and he

accepted the advice. Instead of confining his servile march to the banks

of the Euphrates and Tigris, he resolved to imitate the adventurous

spirit of Alexander, and boldly to advance into the inland provinces,

till he forced his rival to contend with him, perhaps in the plains of

Arbela, for the empire of Asia. The magnanimity of Julian was applauded

and betrayed, by the arts of a noble Persian, who, in the cause of

his country, had generously submitted to act a part full of danger, of

falsehood, and of shame. With a train of faithful followers, he deserted

to the Imperial camp; exposed, in a specious tale, the injuries which he

had sustained; exaggerated the cruelty of Sapor, the discontent of

the people, and the weakness of the monarchy; and confidently offered

himself as the hostage and guide of the Roman march. The most rational

grounds of suspicion were urged, without effect, by the wisdom and

experience of Hormisdas; and the credulous Julian, receiving the traitor

into his bosom, was persuaded to issue a hasty order, which, in the

opinion of mankind, appeared to arraign his prudence, and to endanger

his safety. He destroyed, in a single hour, the whole navy, which had

been transported above five hundred miles, at so great an expense of

toil, of treasure, and of blood. Twelve, or, at the most, twenty-two

small vessels were saved, to accompany, on carriages, the march of the

army, and to form occasional bridges for the passage of the rivers.

A supply of twenty days' provisions was reserved for the use of the

soldiers; and the rest of the magazines, with a fleet of eleven hundred

vessels, which rode at anchor in the Tigris, were abandoned to the

flames, by the absolute command of the emperor. The Christian bishops,

Gregory and Augustin, insult the madness of the Apostate, who executed,

with his own hands, the sentence of divine justice. Their authority, of

less weight, perhaps, in a military question, is confirmed by the cool

judgment of an experienced soldier, who was himself spectator of the

conflagration, and who could not disapprove the reluctant murmurs of

the troops. Yet there are not wanting some specious, and perhaps solid,

reasons, which might justify the resolution of Julian. The navigation of

the Euphrates never ascended above Babylon, nor that of the Tigris above

Opis. The distance of the last-mentioned city from the Roman camp was

not very considerable: and Julian must soon have renounced the vain

and impracticable attempt of forcing upwards a great fleet against the

stream of a rapid river, which in several places was embarrassed

by natural or artificial cataracts. The power of sails and oars was

insufficient; it became necessary to tow the ships against the current

of the river; the strength of twenty thousand soldiers was exhausted

in this tedious and servile labor, and if the Romans continued to march

along the banks of the Tigris, they could only expect to return home

without achieving any enterprise worthy of the genius or fortune of

their leader. If, on the contrary, it was advisable to advance into the

inland country, the destruction of the fleet and magazines was the

only measure which could save that valuable prize from the hands of the

numerous and active troops which might suddenly be poured from the gates

of Ctesiphon. Had the arms of Julian been victorious, we should now

admire the conduct, as well as the courage, of a hero, who, by depriving

his soldiers of the hopes of a retreat, left them only the alternative

of death or conquest.

The cumbersome train of artillery and wagons, which retards the

operations of a modern army, were in a great measure unknown in the

camps of the Romans. Yet, in every age, the subsistence of sixty

thousand men must have been one of the most important cares of a prudent

general; and that subsistence could only be drawn from his own or from

the enemy's country. Had it been possible for Julian to maintain a

bridge of communication on the Tigris, and to preserve the conquered

places of Assyria, a desolated province could not afford any large or

regular supplies, in a season of the year when the lands were covered

by the inundation of the Euphrates, and the unwholesome air was darkened

with swarms of innumerable insects. The appearance of the hostile

country was far more inviting. The extensive region that lies between

the River Tigris and the mountains of Media, was filled with villages

and towns; and the fertile soil, for the most part, was in a very

improved state of cultivation. Julian might expect, that a conqueror,

who possessed the two forcible instruments of persuasion, steel and

gold, would easily procure a plentiful subsistence from the fears or

avarice of the natives. But, on the approach of the Romans, the rich

and smiling prospect was instantly blasted. Wherever they moved,

the inhabitants deserted the open villages, and took shelter in the

fortified towns; the cattle was driven away; the grass and ripe corn

were consumed with fire; and, as soon as the flames had subsided which

interrupted the march of Julian, he beheld the melancholy face of a

smoking and naked desert. This desperate but effectual method of defence

can only be executed by the enthusiasm of a people who prefer their

independence to their property; or by the rigor of an arbitrary

government, which consults the public safety without submitting to their

inclinations the liberty of choice. On the present occasion the zeal

and obedience of the Persians seconded the commands of Sapor; and

the emperor was soon reduced to the scanty stock of provisions, which

continually wasted in his hands. Before they were entirely consumed, he

might still have reached the wealthy and unwarlike cities of Ecbatana

or Susa, by the effort of a rapid and well-directed march; but he was

deprived of this last resource by his ignorance of the roads, and by the

perfidy of his guides. The Romans wandered several days in the country

to the eastward of Bagdad; the Persian deserter, who had artfully led

them into the spare, escaped from their resentment; and his followers,

as soon as they were put to the torture, confessed the secret of the

conspiracy. The visionary conquests of Hyrcania and India, which had so

long amused, now tormented, the mind of Julian. Conscious that his own

imprudence was the cause of the public distress, he anxiously balanced

the hopes of safety or success, without obtaining a satisfactory answer,

either from gods or men. At length, as the only practicable measure, he

embraced the resolution of directing his steps towards the banks of

the Tigris, with the design of saving the army by a hasty march to

the confines of Corduene; a fertile and friendly province, which

acknowledged the sovereignty of Rome. The desponding troops obeyed

the signal of the retreat, only seventy days after they had passed the

Chaboras, with the sanguine expectation of subverting the throne of

Persia.

As long as the Romans seemed to advance into the country, their march

was observed and insulted from a distance, by several bodies of Persian

cavalry; who, showing themselves sometimes in loose, and sometimes

in close order, faintly skirmished with the advanced guards. These

detachments were, however, supported by a much greater force; and the

heads of the columns were no sooner pointed towards the Tigris than a

cloud of dust arose on the plain. The Romans, who now aspired only to

the permission of a safe and speedy retreat, endeavored to persuade

themselves, that this formidable appearance was occasioned by a troop

of wild asses, or perhaps by the approach of some friendly Arabs. They

halted, pitched their tents, fortified their camp, passed the whole

night in continual alarms; and discovered at the dawn of day, that

they were surrounded by an army of Persians. This army, which might be

considered only as the van of the Barbarians, was soon followed by the

main body of cuirassiers, archers, and elephants, commanded by Meranes,

a general of rank and reputation. He was accompanied by two of the

king's sons, and many of the principal satraps; and fame and expectation

exaggerated the strength of the remaining powers, which slowly advanced

under the conduct of Sapor himself. As the Romans continued their march,

their long array, which was forced to bend or divide, according to the

varieties of the ground, afforded frequent and favorable opportunities

to their vigilant enemies. The Persians repeatedly charged with fury;

they were repeatedly repulsed with firmness; and the action at Maronga,

which almost deserved the name of a battle, was marked by a considerable

loss of satraps and elephants, perhaps of equal value in the eyes of

their monarch. These splendid advantages were not obtained without

an adequate slaughter on the side of the Romans: several officers of

distinction were either killed or wounded; and the emperor himself, who,

on all occasions of danger, inspired and guided the valor of his troops,

was obliged to expose his person, and exert his abilities. The weight of

offensive and defensive arms, which still constituted the strength and

safety of the Romans, disabled them from making any long or effectual

pursuit; and as the horsemen of the East were trained to dart their

javelins, and shoot their arrows, at full speed, and in every possible

direction, the cavalry of Persia was never more formidable than in

the moment of a rapid and disorderly flight. But the most certain and

irreparable loss of the Romans was that of time. The hardy veterans,

accustomed to the cold climate of Gaul and Germany, fainted under the

sultry heat of an Assyrian summer; their vigor was exhausted by the

incessant repetition of march and combat; and the progress of the army

was suspended by the precautions of a slow and dangerous retreat, in

the presence of an active enemy. Every day, every hour, as the supply

diminished, the value and price of subsistence increased in the Roman

camp. Julian, who always contented himself with such food as a hungry

soldier would have disdained, distributed, for the use of the troops,

the provisions of the Imperial household, and whatever could be spared,

from the sumpter-horses, of the tribunes and generals. But this feeble

relief served only to aggravate the sense of the public distress; and

the Romans began to entertain the most gloomy apprehensions that, before

they could reach the frontiers of the empire, they should all perish,

either by famine, or by the sword of the Barbarians.

While Julian struggled with the almost insuperable difficulties of his

situation, the silent hours of the night were still devoted to study

and contemplation. Whenever he closed his eyes in short and interrupted

slumbers, his mind was agitated with painful anxiety; nor can it be

thought surprising, that the Genius of the empire should once more

appear before him, covering with a funeral veil his head, and his horn

of abundance, and slowly retiring from the Imperial tent. The monarch

started from his couch, and stepping forth to refresh his wearied

spirits with the coolness of the midnight air, he beheld a fiery meteor,

which shot athwart the sky, and suddenly vanished. Julian was convinced

that he had seen the menacing countenance of the god of war; the council

which he summoned, of Tuscan Haruspices, unanimously pronounced that he

should abstain from action; but on this occasion, necessity and reason

were more prevalent than superstition; and the trumpets sounded at the

break of day. The army marched through a hilly country; and the hills

had been secretly occupied by the Persians. Julian led the van with

the skill and attention of a consummate general; he was alarmed by

the intelligence that his rear was suddenly attacked. The heat of the

weather had tempted him to lay aside his cuirass; but he snatched a

shield from one of his attendants, and hastened, with a sufficient

reenforcement, to the relief of the rear-guard. A similar danger

recalled the intrepid prince to the defence of the front; and, as he

galloped through the columns, the centre of the left was attacked, and

almost overpowered by the furious charge of the Persian cavalry and

elephants. This huge body was soon defeated, by the well-timed evolution

of the light infantry, who aimed their weapons, with dexterity

and effect, against the backs of the horsemen, and the legs of the

elephants. The Barbarians fled; and Julian, who was foremost in every

danger, animated the pursuit with his voice and gestures. His trembling

guards, scattered and oppressed by the disorderly throng of friends and

enemies, reminded their fearless sovereign that he was without armor;

and conjured him to decline the fall of the impending ruin. As they

exclaimed, a cloud of darts and arrows was discharged from the flying

squadrons; and a javelin, after razing the skin of his arm, transpierced

the ribs, and fixed in the inferior part of the liver. Julian attempted

to draw the deadly weapon from his side; but his fingers were cut by the

sharpness of the steel, and he fell senseless from his horse. His guards

flew to his relief; and the wounded emperor was gently raised from the

ground, and conveyed out of the tumult of the battle into an adjacent

tent. The report of the melancholy event passed from rank to rank; but

the grief of the Romans inspired them with invincible valor, and the

desire of revenge. The bloody and obstinate conflict was maintained by

the two armies, till they were separated by the total darkness of the

night. The Persians derived some honor from the advantage which they

obtained against the left wing, where Anatolius, master of the offices,

was slain, and the prÊfect Sallust very narrowly escaped. But the event

of the day was adverse to the Barbarians. They abandoned the field;

their two generals, Meranes and Nohordates, fifty nobles or satraps, and

a multitude of their bravest soldiers; and the success of the Romans, if

Julian had survived, might have been improved into a decisive and useful

victory.

The first words that Julian uttered, after his recovery from the

fainting fit into which he had been thrown by loss of blood, were

expressive of his martial spirit. He called for his horse and arms,

and was impatient to rush into the battle. His remaining strength was

exhausted by the painful effort; and the surgeons, who examined his

wound, discovered the symptoms of approaching death. He employed

the awful moments with the firm temper of a hero and a sage; the

philosophers who had accompanied him in this fatal expedition, compared

the tent of Julian with the prison of Socrates; and the spectators,

whom duty, or friendship, or curiosity, had assembled round his couch,

listened with respectful grief to the funeral oration of their dying

emperor. "Friends and fellow-soldiers, the seasonable period of my

departure is now arrived, and I discharge, with the cheerfulness of a

ready debtor, the demands of nature. I have learned from philosophy, how

much the soul is more excellent than the body; and that the separation

of the nobler substance should be the subject of joy, rather than of

affliction. I have learned from religion, that an early death has often

been the reward of piety; and I accept, as a favor of the gods, the

mortal stroke that secures me from the danger of disgracing a character,

which has hitherto been supported by virtue and fortitude. I die without

remorse, as I have lived without guilt. I am pleased to reflect on the

innocence of my private life; and I can affirm with confidence, that

the supreme authority, that emanation of the Divine Power, has been

preserved in my hands pure and immaculate. Detesting the corrupt and

destructive maxims of despotism, I have considered the happiness of the

people as the end of government. Submitting my actions to the laws of

prudence, of justice, and of moderation, I have trusted the event to

the care of Providence. Peace was the object of my counsels, as long

as peace was consistent with the public welfare; but when the imperious

voice of my country summoned me to arms, I exposed my person to the

dangers of war, with the clear foreknowledge (which I had acquired from

the art of divination) that I was destined to fall by the sword. I now

offer my tribute of gratitude to the Eternal Being, who has not suffered

me to perish by the cruelty of a tyrant, by the secret dagger of

conspiracy, or by the slow tortures of lingering disease. He has

given me, in the midst of an honorable career, a splendid and glorious

departure from this world; and I hold it equally absurd, equally

base, to solicit, or to decline, the stroke of fate. This much I have

attempted to say; but my strength fails me, and I feel the approach

of death. I shall cautiously refrain from any word that may tend to

influence your suffrages in the election of an emperor. My choice might

be imprudent or injudicious; and if it should not be ratified by the

consent of the army, it might be fatal to the person whom I should

recommend. I shall only, as a good citizen, express my hopes, that the

Romans may be blessed with the government of a virtuous sovereign."

After this discourse, which Julian pronounced in a firm and gentle tone

of voice, he distributed, by a military testament, the remains of his

private fortune; and making some inquiry why Anatolius was not present,

he understood, from the answer of Sallust, that Anatolius was killed;

and bewailed, with amiable inconsistency, the loss of his friend. At

the same time he reproved the immoderate grief of the spectators; and

conjured them not to disgrace, by unmanly tears, the fate of a prince,

who in a few moments would be united with heaven, and with the stars.

The spectators were silent; and Julian entered into a metaphysical

argument with the philosophers Priscus and Maximus, on the nature of the

soul. The efforts which he made, of mind as well as body, most probably

hastened his death. His wound began to bleed with fresh violence; his

respiration was embarrassed by the swelling of the veins; he called

for a draught of cold water, and, as soon as he had drank it, expired

without pain, about the hour of midnight. Such was the end of that

extraordinary man, in the thirty-second year of his age, after a reign

of one year and about eight months, from the death of Constantius. In

his last moments he displayed, perhaps with some ostentation, the love

of virtue and of fame, which had been the ruling passions of his life.

The triumph of Christianity, and the calamities of the empire, may, in

some measure, be ascribed to Julian himself, who had neglected to

secure the future execution of his designs, by the timely and judicious

nomination of an associate and successor. But the royal race of

Constantius Chlorus was reduced to his own person; and if he entertained

any serious thoughts of investing with the purple the most worthy among

the Romans, he was diverted from his resolution by the difficulty of the

choice, the jealousy of power, the fear of ingratitude, and the natural

presumption of health, of youth, and of prosperity. His unexpected death

left the empire without a master, and without an heir, in a state of

perplexity and danger, which, in the space of fourscore years, had never

been experienced, since the election of Diocletian. In a government

which had almost forgotten the distinction of pure and noble blood, the

superiority of birth was of little moment; the claims of official rank

were accidental and precarious; and the candidates, who might aspire to

ascend the vacant throne could be supported only by the consciousness of

personal merit, or by the hopes of popular favor. But the situation of

a famished army, encompassed on all sides by a host of Barbarians,

shortened the moments of grief and deliberation. In this scene of terror

and distress, the body of the deceased prince, according to his own

directions, was decently embalmed; and, at the dawn of day, the generals

convened a military senate, at which the commanders of the legions, and

the officers both of cavalry and infantry, were invited to assist.

Three or four hours of the night had not passed away without some secret

cabals; and when the election of an emperor was proposed, the spirit of

faction began to agitate the assembly. Victor and ArinthÊus collected

the remains of the court of Constantius; the friends of Julian attached

themselves to the Gallic chiefs, Dagalaiphus and Nevitta; and the

most fatal consequences might be apprehended from the discord of two

factions, so opposite in their character and interest, in their maxims

of government, and perhaps in their religious principles. The superior

virtues of Sallust could alone reconcile their divisions, and unite

their suffrages; and the venerable prÊfect would immediately have been

declared the successor of Julian, if he himself, with sincere and modest

firmness, had not alleged his age and infirmities, so unequal to the

weight of the diadem. The generals, who were surprised and perplexed by

his refusal, showed some disposition to adopt the salutary advice of an

inferior officer, that they should act as they would have acted in

the absence of the emperor; that they should exert their abilities

to extricate the army from the present distress; and, if they were

fortunate enough to reach the confines of Mesopotamia, they should

proceed with united and deliberate counsels in the election of a lawful

sovereign. While they debated, a few voices saluted Jovian, who was

no more than first of the domestics, with the names of Emperor and

Augustus. The tumultuary acclamation * was instantly repeated by the

guards who surrounded the tent, and passed, in a few minutes, to the

extremities of the line. The new prince, astonished with his own fortune

was hastily invested with the Imperial ornaments, and received an oath

of fidelity from the generals, whose favor and protection he so lately

solicited. The strongest recommendation of Jovian was the merit of his

father, Count Varronian, who enjoyed, in honorable retirement, the fruit

of his long services. In the obscure freedom of a private station,

the son indulged his taste for wine and women; yet he supported, with

credit, the character of a Christian and a soldier. Without being

conspicuous for any of the ambitious qualifications which excite

the admiration and envy of mankind, the comely person of Jovian, his

cheerful temper, and familiar wit, had gained the affection of his

fellow-soldiers; and the generals of both parties acquiesced in a

popular election, which had not been conducted by the arts of their

enemies. The pride of this unexpected elevation was moderated by the

just apprehension, that the same day might terminate the life and reign

of the new emperor. The pressing voice of necessity was obeyed without

delay; and the first orders issued by Jovian, a few hours after his

predecessor had expired, were to prosecute a march, which could alone

extricate the Romans from their actual distress.

Chapter XXIV: The Retreat And Death Of Julian.--Part V.

The esteem of an enemy is most sincerely expressed by his fears; and

the degree of fear may be accurately measured by the joy with which he

celebrates his deliverance. The welcome news of the death of Julian,

which a deserter revealed to the camp of Sapor, inspired the desponding

monarch with a sudden confidence of victory. He immediately detached the

royal cavalry, perhaps the ten thousand Immortals, to second and support

the pursuit; and discharged the whole weight of his united forces on the

rear-guard of the Romans. The rear-guard was thrown into disorder; the

renowned legions, which derived their titles from Diocletian, and his

warlike colleague, were broke and trampled down by the elephants; and

three tribunes lost their lives in attempting to stop the flight of

their soldiers. The battle was at length restored by the persevering

valor of the Romans; the Persians were repulsed with a great slaughter

of men and elephants; and the army, after marching and fighting a long

summer's day, arrived, in the evening, at Samara, on the banks of the

Tigris, about one hundred miles above Ctesiphon. On the ensuing day,

the Barbarians, instead of harassing the march, attacked the camp, of

Jovian; which had been seated in a deep and sequestered valley. From

the hills, the archers of Persia insulted and annoyed the wearied

legionaries; and a body of cavalry, which had penetrated with desperate

courage through the PrÊtorian gate, was cut in pieces, after a doubtful

conflict, near the Imperial tent. In the succeeding night, the camp

of Carche was protected by the lofty dikes of the river; and the

Roman army, though incessantly exposed to the vexatious pursuit of the

Saracens, pitched their tents near the city of Dura, four days after

the death of Julian. The Tigris was still on their left; their hopes

and provisions were almost consumed; and the impatient soldiers, who had

fondly persuaded themselves that the frontiers of the empire were not

far distant, requested their new sovereign, that they might be permitted

to hazard the passage of the river. With the assistance of his wisest

officers, Jovian endeavored to check their rashness; by representing,

that if they possessed sufficient skill and vigor to stem the torrent

of a deep and rapid stream, they would only deliver themselves naked

and defenceless to the Barbarians, who had occupied the opposite banks,

Yielding at length to their clamorous importunities, he consented, with

reluctance, that five hundred Gauls and Germans, accustomed from their

infancy to the waters of the Rhine and Danube, should attempt the

bold adventure, which might serve either as an encouragement, or as a

warning, for the rest of the army. In the silence of the night, they

swam the Tigris, surprised an unguarded post of the enemy, and displayed

at the dawn of day the signal of their resolution and fortune. The

success of this trial disposed the emperor to listen to the promises

of his architects, who propose to construct a floating bridge of the

inflated skins of sheep, oxen, and goats, covered with a floor of earth

and fascines. Two important days were spent in the ineffectual labor;

and the Romans, who already endured the miseries of famine, cast a look

of despair on the Tigris, and upon the Barbarians; whose numbers and

obstinacy increased with the distress of the Imperial army.

In this hopeless condition, the fainting spirits of the Romans were

revived by the sound of peace. The transient presumption of Sapor had

vanished: he observed, with serious concern, that, in the repetition of

doubtful combats, he had lost his most faithful and intrepid nobles, his

bravest troops, and the greatest part of his train of elephants: and

the experienced monarch feared to provoke the resistance of despair, the

vicissitudes of fortune, and the unexhausted powers of the Roman empire;

which might soon advance to relieve, or to revenge, the successor of

Julian. The Surenas himself, accompanied by another satrap, * appeared

in the camp of Jovian; and declared, that the clemency of his sovereign

was not averse to signify the conditions on which he would consent to

spare and to dismiss the CÊsar with the relics of his captive army.

The hopes of safety subdued the firmness of the Romans; the emperor was

compelled, by the advice of his council, and the cries of his soldiers,

to embrace the offer of peace; and the prÊfect Sallust was immediately

sent, with the general ArinthÊus, to understand the pleasure of the

Great King. The crafty Persian delayed, under various pretenses,

the conclusion of the agreement; started difficulties, required

explanations, suggested expedients, receded from his concessions,

increased his demands, and wasted four days in the arts of negotiation,

till he had consumed the stock of provisions which yet remained in the

camp of the Romans. Had Jovian been capable of executing a bold and

prudent measure, he would have continued his march, with unremitting

diligence; the progress of the treaty would have suspended the attacks

of the Barbarians; and, before the expiration of the fourth day, he

might have safely reached the fruitful province of Corduene, at the

distance only of one hundred miles. The irresolute emperor, instead of

breaking through the toils of the enemy, expected his fate with patient

resignation; and accepted the humiliating conditions of peace, which

it was no longer in his power to refuse. The five provinces beyond the

Tigris, which had been ceded by the grandfather of Sapor, were

restored to the Persian monarchy. He acquired, by a single article, the

impregnable city of Nisibis; which had sustained, in three successive

sieges, the effort of his arms. Singara, and the castle of the Moors,

one of the strongest places of Mesopotamia, were likewise dismembered

from the empire. It was considered as an indulgence, that the

inhabitants of those fortresses were permitted to retire with their

effects; but the conqueror rigorously insisted, that the Romans should

forever abandon the king and kingdom of Armenia. ß A peace, or rather a

long truce, of thirty years, was stipulated between the hostile nations;

the faith of the treaty was ratified by solemn oaths and religious

ceremonies; and hostages of distinguished rank were reciprocally

delivered to secure the performance of the conditions.

The sophist of Antioch, who saw with indignation the sceptre of his hero

in the feeble hand of a Christian successor, professes to admire the

moderation of Sapor, in contenting himself with so small a portion of

the Roman empire. If he had stretched as far as the Euphrates the

claims of his ambition, he might have been secure, says Libanius, of not

meeting with a refusal. If he had fixed, as the boundary of Persia,

the Orontes, the Cydnus, the Sangarius, or even the Thracian Bosphorus,

flatterers would not have been wanting in the court of Jovian to

convince the timid monarch, that his remaining provinces would still

afford the most ample gratifications of power and luxury. Without

adopting in its full force this malicious insinuation, we must

acknowledge, that the conclusion of so ignominious a treaty was

facilitated by the private ambition of Jovian. The obscure domestic,

exalted to the throne by fortune, rather than by merit, was impatient to

escape from the hands of the Persians, that he might prevent the designs

of Procopius, who commanded the army of Mesopotamia, and establish his

doubtful reign over the legions and provinces which were still ignorant

of the hasty and tumultuous choice of the camp beyond the Tigris. In the

neighborhood of the same river, at no very considerable distance from

the fatal station of Dura, the ten thousand Greeks, without generals, or

guides, or provisions, were abandoned, above twelve hundred miles from

their native country, to the resentment of a victorious monarch. The

difference of their conduct and success depended much more on their

character than on their situation. Instead of tamely resigning

themselves to the secret deliberations and private views of a single

person, the united councils of the Greeks were inspired by the generous

enthusiasm of a popular assembly; where the mind of each citizen is

filled with the love of glory, the pride of freedom, and the contempt

of death. Conscious of their superiority over the Barbarians in arms and

discipline, they disdained to yield, they refused to capitulate: every

obstacle was surmounted by their patience, courage, and military skill;

and the memorable retreat of the ten thousand exposed and insulted the

weakness of the Persian monarchy.

As the price of his disgraceful concessions, the emperor might

perhaps have stipulated, that the camp of the hungry Romans should be

plentifully supplied; and that they should be permitted to pass the

Tigris on the bridge which was constructed by the hands of the Persians.

But, if Jovian presumed to solicit those equitable terms, they were

sternly refused by the haughty tyrant of the East, whose clemency had

pardoned the invaders of his country. The Saracens sometimes intercepted

the stragglers of the march; but the generals and troops of Sapor

respected the cessation of arms; and Jovian was suffered to explore the

most convenient place for the passage of the river. The small vessels,

which had been saved from the conflagration of the fleet, performed

the most essential service. They first conveyed the emperor and his

favorites; and afterwards transported, in many successive voyages, a

great part of the army. But, as every man was anxious for his personal

safety, and apprehensive of being left on the hostile shore, the

soldiers, who were too impatient to wait the slow returns of the boats,

boldly ventured themselves on light hurdles, or inflated skins; and,

drawing after them their horses, attempted, with various success, to

swim across the river. Many of these daring adventurers were swallowed

by the waves; many others, who were carried along by the violence of the

stream, fell an easy prey to the avarice or cruelty of the wild Arabs:

and the loss which the army sustained in the passage of the Tigris, was

not inferior to the carnage of a day of battle. As soon as the Romans

were landed on the western bank, they were delivered from the hostile

pursuit of the Barbarians; but, in a laborious march of two hundred

miles over the plains of Mesopotamia, they endured the last extremities

of thirst and hunger. They were obliged to traverse the sandy desert,

which, in the extent of seventy miles, did not afford a single blade

of sweet grass, nor a single spring of fresh water; and the rest of

the inhospitable waste was untrod by the footsteps either of friends or

enemies. Whenever a small measure of flour could be discovered in the

camp, twenty pounds weight were greedily purchased with ten pieces of

gold: the beasts of burden were slaughtered and devoured; and the desert

was strewed with the arms and baggage of the Roman soldiers, whose

tattered garments and meagre countenances displayed their past

sufferings and actual misery. A small convoy of provisions advanced to

meet the army as far as the castle of Ur; and the supply was the more

grateful, since it declared the fidelity of Sebastian and Procopius.

At Thilsaphata, the emperor most graciously received the generals

of Mesopotamia; and the remains of a once flourishing army at length

reposed themselves under the walls of Nisibis. The messengers of Jovian

had already proclaimed, in the language of flattery, his election, his

treaty, and his return; and the new prince had taken the most effectual

measures to secure the allegiance of the armies and provinces of Europe,

by placing the military command in the hands of those officers, who,

from motives of interest, or inclination, would firmly support the cause

of their benefactor.

The friends of Julian had confidently announced the success of his

expedition. They entertained a fond persuasion that the temples of the

gods would be enriched with the spoils of the East; that Persia would

be reduced to the humble state of a tributary province, governed by the

laws and magistrates of Rome; that the Barbarians would adopt the dress,

and manners, and language of their conquerors; and that the youth of

Ecbatana and Susa would study the art of rhetoric under Grecian masters.

The progress of the arms of Julian interrupted his communication

with the empire; and, from the moment that he passed the Tigris, his

affectionate subjects were ignorant of the fate and fortunes of their

prince. Their contemplation of fancied triumphs was disturbed by the

melancholy rumor of his death; and they persisted to doubt, after they

could no longer deny, the truth of that fatal event. The messengers of

Jovian promulgated the specious tale of a prudent and necessary peace;

the voice of fame, louder and more sincere, revealed the disgrace of the

emperor, and the conditions of the ignominious treaty. The minds of the

people were filled with astonishment and grief, with indignation and

terror, when they were informed, that the unworthy successor of Julian

relinquished the five provinces which had been acquired by the victory

of Galerius; and that he shamefully surrendered to the Barbarians the

important city of Nisibis, the firmest bulwark of the provinces of the

East. The deep and dangerous question, how far the public faith should

be observed, when it becomes incompatible with the public safety, was

freely agitated in popular conversation; and some hopes were entertained

that the emperor would redeem his pusillanimous behavior by a splendid

act of patriotic perfidy. The inflexible spirit of the Roman senate had

always disclaimed the unequal conditions which were extorted from the

distress of their captive armies; and, if it were necessary to satisfy

the national honor, by delivering the guilty general into the hands of

the Barbarians, the greatest part of the subjects of Jovian would have

cheerfully acquiesced in the precedent of ancient times.

But the emperor, whatever might be the limits of his constitutional

authority, was the absolute master of the laws and arms of the state;

and the same motives which had forced him to subscribe, now pressed him

to execute, the treaty of peace. He was impatient to secure an empire

at the expense of a few provinces; and the respectable names of

religion and honor concealed the personal fears and ambition of Jovian.

Notwithstanding the dutiful solicitations of the inhabitants, decency,

as well as prudence, forbade the emperor to lodge in the palace of

Nisibis; but the next morning after his arrival. Bineses, the ambassador

of Persia, entered the place, displayed from the citadel the standard

of the Great King, and proclaimed, in his name, the cruel alternative

of exile or servitude. The principal citizens of Nisibis, who, till that

fatal moment, had confided in the protection of their sovereign, threw

themselves at his feet. They conjured him not to abandon, or, at least,

not to deliver, a faithful colony to the rage of a Barbarian tyrant,

exasperated by the three successive defeats which he had experienced

under the walls of Nisibis. They still possessed arms and courage to

repel the invaders of their country: they requested only the permission

of using them in their own defence; and, as soon as they had asserted

their independence, they should implore the favor of being again

admitted into the ranks of his subjects. Their arguments, their

eloquence, their tears, were ineffectual. Jovian alleged, with some

confusion, the sanctity of oaths; and, as the reluctance with which he

accepted the present of a crown of gold, convinced the citizens of their

hopeless condition, the advocate Sylvanus was provoked to exclaim, "O

emperor! may you thus be crowned by all the cities of your dominions!"

Jovian, who in a few weeks had assumed the habits of a prince, was

displeased with freedom, and offended with truth: and as he reasonably

supposed, that the discontent of the people might incline them to submit

to the Persian government, he published an edict, under pain of death,

that they should leave the city within the term of three days. Ammianus

has delineated in lively colors the scene of universal despair, which

he seems to have viewed with an eye of compassion. The martial youth

deserted, with indignant grief, the walls which they had so gloriously

defended: the disconsolate mourner dropped a last tear over the tomb

of a son or husband, which must soon be profaned by the rude hand of a

Barbarian master; and the aged citizen kissed the threshold, and clung

to the doors, of the house where he had passed the cheerful and careless

hours of infancy. The highways were crowded with a trembling multitude:

the distinctions of rank, and sex, and age, were lost in the general

calamity. Every one strove to bear away some fragment from the wreck of

his fortunes; and as they could not command the immediate service of an

adequate number of horses or wagons, they were obliged to leave

behind them the greatest part of their valuable effects. The savage

insensibility of Jovian appears to have aggravated the hardships of

these unhappy fugitives. They were seated, however, in a new-built

quarter of Amida; and that rising city, with the reenforcement of a very

considerable colony, soon recovered its former splendor, and became the

capital of Mesopotamia. Similar orders were despatched by the emperor

for the evacuation of Singara and the castle of the Moors; and for the

restitution of the five provinces beyond the Tigris. Sapor enjoyed the

glory and the fruits of his victory; and this ignominious peace has

justly been considered as a memorable Êra in the decline and fall of the

Roman empire. The predecessors of Jovian had sometimes relinquished

the dominion of distant and unprofitable provinces; but, since the

foundation of the city, the genius of Rome, the god Terminus, who

guarded the boundaries of the republic, had never retired before the

sword of a victorious enemy.

After Jovian had performed those engagements which the voice of his

people might have tempted him to violate, he hastened away from the

scene of his disgrace, and proceeded with his whole court to enjoy the

luxury of Antioch. Without consulting the dictates of religious zeal,

he was prompted, by humanity and gratitude, to bestow the last honors

on the remains of his deceased sovereign: and Procopius, who sincerely

bewailed the loss of his kinsman, was removed from the command of the

army, under the decent pretence of conducting the funeral. The corpse

of Julian was transported from Nisibis to Tarsus, in a slow march of

fifteen days; and, as it passed through the cities of the East,

was saluted by the hostile factions, with mournful lamentations and

clamorous insults. The Pagans already placed their beloved hero in the

rank of those gods whose worship he had restored; while the invectives

of the Christians pursued the soul of the Apostate to hell, and his body

to the grave. One party lamented the approaching ruin of their altars;

the other celebrated the marvellous deliverance of their church. The

Christians applauded, in lofty and ambiguous strains, the stroke of

divine vengeance, which had been so long suspended over the guilty

head of Julian. They acknowledge, that the death of the tyrant, at the

instant he expired beyond the Tigris, was revealed to the saints of

Egypt, Syria, and Cappadocia; and instead of suffering him to fall by

the Persian darts, their indiscretion ascribed the heroic deed to the

obscure hand of some mortal or immortal champion of the faith. Such

imprudent declarations were eagerly adopted by the malice, or credulity,

of their adversaries; who darkly insinuated, or confidently asserted,

that the governors of the church had instigated and directed the

fanaticism of a domestic assassin. Above sixteen years after the death

of Julian, the charge was solemnly and vehemently urged, in a public

oration, addressed by Libanius to the emperor Theodosius. His suspicions

are unsupported by fact or argument; and we can only esteem the generous

zeal of the sophist of Antioch for the cold and neglected ashes of his

friend.

It was an ancient custom in the funerals, as well as in the triumphs,

of the Romans, that the voice of praise should be corrected by that of

satire and ridicule; and that, in the midst of the splendid pageants,

which displayed the glory of the living or of the dead, their

imperfections should not be concealed from the eyes of the world.

This custom was practised in the funeral of Julian. The comedians, who

resented his contempt and aversion for the theatre, exhibited, with

the applause of a Christian audience, the lively and exaggerated

representation of the faults and follies of the deceased emperor. His

various character and singular manners afforded an ample scope for

pleasantry and ridicule. In the exercise of his uncommon talents, he

often descended below the majesty of his rank. Alexander was transformed

into Diogenes; the philosopher was degraded into a priest. The purity of

his virtue was sullied by excessive vanity; his superstition disturbed

the peace, and endangered the safety, of a mighty empire; and his

irregular sallies were the less entitled to indulgence, as they appeared

to be the laborious efforts of art, or even of affectation. The remains

of Julian were interred at Tarsus in Cilicia; but his stately tomb,

which arose in that city, on the banks of the cold and limpid Cydnus,

was displeasing to the faithful friends, who loved and revered the

memory of that extraordinary man. The philosopher expressed a very

reasonable wish, that the disciple of Plato might have reposed amidst

the groves of the academy; while the soldier exclaimed, in bolder

accents, that the ashes of Julian should have been mingled with those

of CÊsar, in the field of Mars, and among the ancient monuments of

Roman virtue. The history of princes does not very frequently renew the

examples of a similar competition.