Empire.--Part I.
The Government And Death Of Jovian.--Election Of
Valentinian, Who Associates His Brother Valens, And Makes
The Final Division Of The Eastern And Western Empires.--
Revolt Of Procopius.--Civil And Ecclesiastical
Administration.--Germany.--Britain.--Africa.--The East.--The
Danube.--Death Of Valentinian.--His Two Sons, Gratian And
Valentinian II., Succeed To The Western Empire.
The death of Julian had left the public affairs of the empire in a
very doubtful and dangerous situation. The Roman army was saved by an
inglorious, perhaps a necessary treaty; and the first moments of peace
were consecrated by the pious Jovian to restore the domestic tranquility
of the church and state. The indiscretion of his predecessor, instead
of reconciling, had artfully fomented the religious war: and the balance
which he affected to preserve between the hostile factions, served only
to perpetuate the contest, by the vicissitudes of hope and fear, by the
rival claims of ancient possession and actual favor. The Christians
had forgotten the spirit of the gospel; and the Pagans had imbibed the
spirit of the church. In private families, the sentiments of nature were
extinguished by the blind fury of zeal and revenge: the majesty of the
laws was violated or abused; the cities of the East were stained with
blood; and the most implacable enemies of the Romans were in the bosom
of their country. Jovian was educated in the profession of Christianity;
and as he marched from Nisibis to Antioch, the banner of the Cross, the
Labarum of Constantine, which was again displayed at the head of the
legions, announced to the people the faith of their new emperor. As soon
as he ascended the throne, he transmitted a circular epistle to all
the governors of provinces; in which he confessed the divine truth,
and secured the legal establishment, of the Christian religion. The
insidious edicts of Julian were abolished; the ecclesiastical immunities
were restored and enlarged; and Jovian condescended to lament, that the
distress of the times obliged him to diminish the measure of charitable
distributions. The Christians were unanimous in the loud and sincere
applause which they bestowed on the pious successor of Julian. But they
were still ignorant what creed, or what synod, he would choose for the
standard of orthodoxy; and the peace of the church immediately revived
those eager disputes which had been suspended during the season of
persecution. The episcopal leaders of the contending sects, convinced,
from experience, how much their fate would depend on the earliest
impressions that were made on the mind of an untutored soldier, hastened
to the court of Edessa, or Antioch. The highways of the East were
crowded with Homoousian, and Arian, and Semi-Arian, and Eunomian
bishops, who struggled to outstrip each other in the holy race: the
apartments of the palace resounded with their clamors; and the ears
of the prince were assaulted, and perhaps astonished, by the singular
mixture of metaphysical argument and passionate invective. The
moderation of Jovian, who recommended concord and charity, and referred
the disputants to the sentence of a future council, was interpreted as
a symptom of indifference: but his attachment to the Nicene creed was at
length discovered and declared, by the reverence which he expressed for
the celestial virtues of the great Athanasius. The intrepid veteran of
the faith, at the age of seventy, had issued from his retreat on the
first intelligence of the tyrant's death. The acclamations of the
people seated him once more on the archiepiscopal throne; and he wisely
accepted, or anticipated, the invitation of Jovian. The venerable figure
of Athanasius, his calm courage, and insinuating eloquence, sustained
the reputation which he had already acquired in the courts of four
successive princes. As soon as he had gained the confidence, and secured
the faith, of the Christian emperor, he returned in triumph to his
diocese, and continued, with mature counsels and undiminished vigor, to
direct, ten years longer, the ecclesiastical government of Alexandria,
Egypt, and the Catholic church. Before his departure from Antioch, he
assured Jovian that his orthodox devotion would be rewarded with a long
and peaceful reign. Athanasius, had reason to hope, that he should be
allowed either the merit of a successful prediction, or the excuse of a
grateful though ineffectual prayer.
The slightest force, when it is applied to assist and guide the natural
descent of its object, operates with irresistible weight; and Jovian had
the good fortune to embrace the religious opinions which were supported
by the spirit of the times, and the zeal and numbers of the most
powerful sect. Under his reign, Christianity obtained an easy and
lasting victory; and as soon as the smile of royal patronage was
withdrawn, the genius of Paganism, which had been fondly raised and
cherished by the arts of Julian, sunk irrecoverably. In many cities,
the temples were shut or deserted: the philosophers who had abused their
transient favor, thought it prudent to shave their beards, and disguise
their profession; and the Christians rejoiced, that they were now in
a condition to forgive, or to revenge, the injuries which they had
suffered under the preceding reign. The consternation of the Pagan
world was dispelled by a wise and gracious edict of toleration; in which
Jovian explicitly declared, that although he should severely punish the
sacrilegious rites of magic, his subjects might exercise, with freedom
and safety, the ceremonies of the ancient worship. The memory of this
law has been preserved by the orator Themistius, who was deputed by the
senate of Constantinople to express their royal devotion for the new
emperor. Themistius expatiates on the clemency of the Divine Nature, the
facility of human error, the rights of conscience, and the independence
of the mind; and, with some eloquence, inculcates the principles of
philosophical toleration; whose aid Superstition herself, in the hour of
her distress, is not ashamed to implore. He justly observes, that in
the recent changes, both religions had been alternately disgraced by the
seeming acquisition of worthless proselytes, of those votaries of the
reigning purple, who could pass, without a reason, and without a blush,
from the church to the temple, and from the altars of Jupiter to the
sacred table of the Christians.
In the space of seven months, the Roman troops, who were now returned to
Antioch, had performed a march of fifteen hundred miles; in which
they had endured all the hardships of war, of famine, and of climate.
Notwithstanding their services, their fatigues, and the approach of
winter, the timid and impatient Jovian allowed only, to the men and
horses, a respite of six weeks. The emperor could not sustain the
indiscreet and malicious raillery of the people of Antioch. He was
impatient to possess the palace of Constantinople; and to prevent the
ambition of some competitor, who might occupy the vacant allegiance
of Europe. But he soon received the grateful intelligence, that his
authority was acknowledged from the Thracian Bosphorus to the Atlantic
Ocean. By the first letters which he despatched from the camp of
Mesopotamia, he had delegated the military command of Gaul and Illyricum
to Malarich, a brave and faithful officer of the nation of the
Franks; and to his father-in-law, Count Lucillian, who had formerly
distinguished his courage and conduct in the defence of Nisibis.
Malarich had declined an office to which he thought himself unequal;
and Lucillian was massacred at Rheims, in an accidental mutiny of the
Batavian cohorts. But the moderation of Jovinus, master-general of the
cavalry, who forgave the intention of his disgrace, soon appeased the
tumult, and confirmed the uncertain minds of the soldiers. The oath of
fidelity was administered and taken, with loyal acclamations; and
the deputies of the Western armies saluted their new sovereign as he
descended from Mount Taurus to the city of Tyana in Cappadocia. From
Tyana he continued his hasty march to Ancyra, capital of the province of
Galatia; where Jovian assumed, with his infant son, the name and ensigns
of the consulship. Dadastana, an obscure town, almost at an equal
distance between Ancyra and Nice, was marked for the fatal term of his
journey and life. After indulging himself with a plentiful, perhaps
an intemperate, supper, he retired to rest; and the next morning the
emperor Jovian was found dead in his bed. The cause of this sudden death
was variously understood. By some it was ascribed to the consequences
of an indigestion, occasioned either by the quantity of the wine, or
the quality of the mushrooms, which he had swallowed in the evening.
According to others, he was suffocated in his sleep by the vapor
of charcoal, which extracted from the walls of the apartment the
unwholesome moisture of the fresh plaster. But the want of a regular
inquiry into the death of a prince, whose reign and person were soon
forgotten, appears to have been the only circumstance which countenanced
the malicious whispers of poison and domestic guilt. The body of Jovian
was sent to Constantinople, to be interred with his predecessors, and
the sad procession was met on the road by his wife Charito, the daughter
of Count Lucillian; who still wept the recent death of her father, and
was hastening to dry her tears in the embraces of an Imperial husband.
Her disappointment and grief were imbittered by the anxiety of maternal
tenderness. Six weeks before the death of Jovian, his infant son had
been placed in the curule chair, adorned with the title of Nobilissimus,
and the vain ensigns of the consulship. Unconscious of his fortune, the
royal youth, who, from his grandfather, assumed the name of Varronian,
was reminded only by the jealousy of the government, that he was the son
of an emperor. Sixteen years afterwards he was still alive, but he had
already been deprived of an eye; and his afflicted mother expected every
hour, that the innocent victim would be torn from her arms, to appease,
with his blood, the suspicions of the reigning prince.
After the death of Jovian, the throne of the Roman world remained ten
days, without a master. The ministers and generals still continued to
meet in council; to exercise their respective functions; to maintain the
public order; and peaceably to conduct the army to the city of Nice in
Bithynia, which was chosen for the place of the election. In a solemn
assembly of the civil and military powers of the empire, the diadem was
again unanimously offered to the prÊfect Sallust. He enjoyed the glory
of a second refusal: and when the virtues of the father were alleged
in favor of his son, the prÊfect, with the firmness of a disinterested
patriot, declared to the electors, that the feeble age of the one, and
the unexperienced youth of the other, were equally incapable of the
laborious duties of government. Several candidates were proposed; and,
after weighing the objections of character or situation, they were
successively rejected; but, as soon as the name of Valentinian was
pronounced, the merit of that officer united the suffrages of the whole
assembly, and obtained the sincere approbation of Sallust himself.
Valentinian was the son of Count Gratian, a native of Cibalis, in
Pannonia, who from an obscure condition had raised himself, by matchless
strength and dexterity, to the military commands of Africa and Britain;
from which he retired with an ample fortune and suspicious integrity.
The rank and services of Gratian contributed, however, to smooth the
first steps of the promotion of his son; and afforded him an early
opportunity of displaying those solid and useful qualifications, which
raised his character above the ordinary level of his fellow-soldiers.
The person of Valentinian was tall, graceful, and majestic. His manly
countenance, deeply marked with the impression of sense and spirit,
inspired his friends with awe, and his enemies with fear; and to second
the efforts of his undaunted courage, the son of Gratian had inherited
the advantages of a strong and healthy constitution. By the habits of
chastity and temperance, which restrain the appetites and invigorate
the faculties, Valentinian preserved his own and the public esteem. The
avocations of a military life had diverted his youth from the elegant
pursuits of literature; * he was ignorant of the Greek language, and the
arts of rhetoric; but as the mind of the orator was never disconcerted
by timid perplexity, he was able, as often as the occasion prompted him,
to deliver his decided sentiments with bold and ready elocution. The
laws of martial discipline were the only laws that he had studied; and
he was soon distinguished by the laborious diligence, and inflexible
severity, with which he discharged and enforced the duties of the
camp. In the time of Julian he provoked the danger of disgrace, by the
contempt which he publicly expressed for the reigning religion; and
it should seem, from his subsequent conduct, that the indiscreet and
unseasonable freedom of Valentinian was the effect of military spirit,
rather than of Christian zeal. He was pardoned, however, and still
employed by a prince who esteemed his merit; and in the various events
of the Persian war, he improved the reputation which he had already
acquired on the banks of the Rhine. The celerity and success with which
he executed an important commission, recommended him to the favor of
Jovian; and to the honorable command of the second school, or company,
of Targetiers, of the domestic guards. In the march from Antioch, he
had reached his quarters at Ancyra, when he was unexpectedly summoned,
without guilt and without intrigue, to assume, in the forty-third year
of his age, the absolute government of the Roman empire.
The invitation of the ministers and generals at Nice was of little
moment, unless it were confirmed by the voice of the army. The aged
Sallust, who had long observed the irregular fluctuations of popular
assemblies, proposed, under pain of death, that none of those persons,
whose rank in the service might excite a party in their favor, should
appear in public on the day of the inauguration. Yet such was the
prevalence of ancient superstition, that a whole day was voluntarily
added to this dangerous interval, because it happened to be the
intercalation of the Bissextile. At length, when the hour was supposed
to be propitious, Valentinian showed himself from a lofty tribunal; the
judicious choice was applauded; and the new prince was solemnly invested
with the diadem and the purple, amidst the acclamation of the troops,
who were disposed in martial order round the tribunal. But when he
stretched forth his hand to address the armed multitude, a busy whisper
was accidentally started in the ranks, and insensibly swelled into
a loud and imperious clamor, that he should name, without delay, a
colleague in the empire. The intrepid calmness of Valentinian obtained
silence, and commanded respect; and he thus addressed the assembly: "A
few minutes since it was in your power, fellow-soldiers, to have left me
in the obscurity of a private station. Judging, from the testimony of my
past life, that I deserved to reign, you have placed me on the throne.
It is now my duty to consult the safety and interest of the republic.
The weight of the universe is undoubtedly too great for the hands of
a feeble mortal. I am conscious of the limits of my abilities, and the
uncertainty of my life; and far from declining, I am anxious to solicit,
the assistance of a worthy colleague. But, where discord may be
fatal, the choice of a faithful friend requires mature and serious
deliberation. That deliberation shall be my care. Let your conduct be
dutiful and consistent. Retire to your quarters; refresh your minds and
bodies; and expect the accustomed donative on the accession of a
new emperor." The astonished troops, with a mixture of pride, of
satisfaction, and of terror, confessed the voice of their master.
Their angry clamors subsided into silent reverence; and Valentinian,
encompassed with the eagles of the legions, and the various banners of
the cavalry and infantry, was conducted, in warlike pomp, to the palace
of Nice. As he was sensible, however, of the importance of preventing
some rash declaration of the soldiers, he consulted the assembly of
the chiefs; and their real sentiments were concisely expressed by the
generous freedom of Dagalaiphus. "Most excellent prince," said that
officer, "if you consider only your family, you have a brother; if you
love the republic, look round for the most deserving of the Romans." The
emperor, who suppressed his displeasure, without altering his intention,
slowly proceeded from Nice to Nicomedia and Constantinople. In one of
the suburbs of that capital, thirty days after his own elevation, he
bestowed the title of Augustus on his brother Valens; * and as the
boldest patriots were convinced, that their opposition, without
being serviceable to their country, would be fatal to themselves, the
declaration of his absolute will was received with silent submission.
Valens was now in the thirty-sixth year of his age; but his abilities
had never been exercised in any employment, military or civil; and his
character had not inspired the world with any sanguine expectations. He
possessed, however, one quality, which recommended him to Valentinian,
and preserved the domestic peace of the empire; devout and grateful
attachment to his benefactor, whose superiority of genius, as well as of
authority, Valens humbly and cheerfully acknowledged in every action of
his life.