Gibbon's The Decline And Fall Of The Roman Empire
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Chapter XXIII: Reign Of Julian.
Part I.
The Religion Of Julian. -- Universal Toleration. -- He Attempts To
Restore And Reform The Pagan Worship -- To Rebuild The Temple Of
Jerusalem -- His Artful Persecution Of The Christians. -- Mutual Zeal
And Injustice.
The character of Apostate has injured the reputation of Julian; and the
enthusiasm which clouded his virtues has exaggerated the real and
apparent magnitude of his faults. Our partial ignorance may represent
him as a philosophic monarch, who studied to protect, with an equal
hand, the religious factions of the empire; and to allay the theological
fever which had inflamed the minds of the people, from the edicts of
Diocletian to the exile of Athanasius. A more accurate view of the
character and conduct of Julian will remove this favorable prepossession
for a prince who did not escape the general contagion of the times. We
enjoy the singular advantage of comparing the pictures which have been
delineated by his fondest admirers and his implacable enemies. The
actions of Julian are faithfully related by a judicious and candid
historian, the impartial spectator of his life and death. The unanimous
evidence of his contemporaries is confirmed by the public and private
declarations of the emperor himself; and his various writings express
the uniform tenor of his religious sentiments, which policy would have
prompted him to dissemble rather than to affect. A devout and sincere
attachment for the gods of Athens and Rome constituted the ruling
passion of Julian; the powers of an enlightened understanding were
betrayed and corrupted by the influence of superstitious prejudice; and
the phantoms which existed only in the mind of the emperor had a real
and pernicious effect on the government of the empire. The vehement zeal
of the Christians, who despised the worship, and overturned the altars
of those fabulous deities, engaged their votary in a state of
irreconcilable hostility with a very numerous party of his subjects; and
he was sometimes tempted by the desire of victory, or the shame of a
repulse, to violate the laws of prudence, and even of justice. The
triumph of the party, which he deserted and opposed, has fixed a stain
of infamy on the name of Julian; and the unsuccessful apostate has been
overwhelmed with a torrent of pious invectives, of which the signal was
given by the sonorous trumpet of Gregory Nazianzen. The interesting
nature of the events which were crowded into the short reign of this
active emperor, deserve a just and circumstantial narrative. His
motives, his counsels, and his actions, as far as they are connected
with the history of religion, will be the subject of the present
chapter.
The cause of his strange and fatal apostasy may be derived from the
early period of his life, when he was left an orphan in the hands of the
murderers of his family. The names of Christ and of Constantius, the
ideas of slavery and of religion, were soon associated in a youthful
imagination, which was susceptible of the most lively impressions. The
care of his infancy was intrusted to Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, who
was related to him on the side of his mother; and till Julian reached
the twentieth year of his age, he received from his Christian preceptors
the education, not of a hero, but of a saint. The emperor, less jealous
of a heavenly than of an earthly crown, contented himself with the
imperfect character of a catechumen, while he bestowed the advantages of
baptism on the nephews of Constantine. They were even admitted to the
inferior offices of the ecclesiastical order; and Julian publicly read
the Holy Scriptures in the church of Nicomedia. The study of religion,
which they assiduously cultivated, appeared to produce the fairest
fruits of faith and devotion. They prayed, they fasted, they distributed
alms to the poor, gifts to the clergy, and oblations to the tombs of the
martyrs; and the splendid monument of St. Mamas, at Cæsarea, was
erected, or at least was undertaken, by the joint labor of Gallus and
Julian. They respectfully conversed with the bishops, who were eminent
for superior sanctity, and solicited the benediction of the monks and
hermits, who had introduced into Cappadocia the voluntary hardships of
the ascetic life. As the two princes advanced towards the years of
manhood, they discovered, in their religious sentiments, the difference
of their characters. The dull and obstinate understanding of Gallus
embraced, with implicit zeal, the doctrines of Christianity; which never
influenced his conduct, or moderated his passions. The mild disposition
of the younger brother was less repugnant to the precepts of the gospel;
and his active curiosity might have been gratified by a theological
system, which explains the mysterious essence of the Deity, and opens
the boundless prospect of invisible and future worlds. But the
independent spirit of Julian refused to yield the passive and
unresisting obedience which was required, in the name of religion, by
the haughty ministers of the church. Their speculative opinions were
imposed as positive laws, and guarded by the terrors of eternal
punishments; but while they prescribed the rigid formulary of the
thoughts, the words, and the actions of the young prince; whilst they
silenced his objections, and severely checked the freedom of his
inquiries, they secretly provoked his impatient genius to disclaim the
authority of his ecclesiastical guides. He was educated in the Lesser
Asia, amidst the scandals of the Arian controversy. The fierce contests
of the Eastern bishops, the incessant alterations of their creeds, and
the profane motives which appeared to actuate their conduct, insensibly
strengthened the prejudice of Julian, that they neither understood nor
believed the religion for which they so fiercely contended. Instead of
listening to the proofs of Christianity with that favorable attention
which adds weight to the most respectable evidence, he heard with
suspicion, and disputed with obstinacy and acuteness, the doctrines for
which he already entertained an invincible aversion. Whenever the young
princes were directed to compose declamations on the subject of the
prevailing controversies, Julian always declared himself the advocate of
Paganism; under the specious excuse that, in the defence of the weaker
cause, his learning and ingenuity might be more advantageously exercised
and displayed.
As soon as Gallus was invested with the honors of the purple, Julian was
permitted to breathe the air of freedom, of literature, and of Paganism.
The crowd of sophists, who were attracted by the taste and liberality of
their royal pupil, had formed a strict alliance between the learning and
the religion of Greece; and the poems of Homer, instead of being admired
as the original productions of human genius, were seriously ascribed to
the heavenly inspiration of Apollo and the muses. The deities of
Olympus, as they are painted by the immortal bard, imprint themselves on
the minds which are the least addicted to superstitious credulity. Our
familiar knowledge of their names and characters, their forms and
attributes, seems to bestow on those airy beings a real and substantial
existence; and the pleasing enchantment produces an imperfect and
momentary assent of the imagination to those fables, which are the most
repugnant to our reason and experience. In the age of Julian, every
circumstance contributed to prolong and fortify the illusion; the
magnificent temples of Greece and Asia; the works of those artists who
had expressed, in painting or in sculpture, the divine conceptions of
the poet; the pomp of festivals and sacrifices; the successful arts of
divination; the popular traditions of oracles and prodigies; and the
ancient practice of two thousand years. The weakness of polytheism was,
in some measure, excused by the moderation of its claims; and the
devotion of the Pagans was not incompatible with the most licentious
scepticism. Instead of an indivisible and regular system, which occupies
the whole extent of the believing mind, the mythology of the Greeks was
composed of a thousand loose and flexible parts, and the servant of the
gods was at liberty to define the degree and measure of his religious
faith. The creed which Julian adopted for his own use was of the largest
dimensions; and, by strange contradiction, he disdained the salutary
yoke of the gospel, whilst he made a voluntary offering of his reason on
the altars of Jupiter and Apollo. One of the orations of Julian is
consecrated to the honor of Cybele, the mother of the gods, who required
from her effeminate priests the bloody sacrifice, so rashly performed by
the madness of the Phrygian boy. The pious emperor condescends to
relate, without a blush, and without a smile, the voyage of the goddess
from the shores of Pergamus to the mouth of the Tyber, and the
stupendous miracle, which convinced the senate and people of Rome that
the lump of clay, which their ambassadors had transported over the seas,
was endowed with life, and sentiment, and divine power. For the truth of
this prodigy he appeals to the public monuments of the city; and
censures, with some acrimony, the sickly and affected taste of those
men, who impertinently derided the sacred traditions of their ancestors.
But the devout philosopher, who sincerely embraced, and warmly
encouraged, the superstition of the people, reserved for himself the
privilege of a liberal interpretation; and silently withdrew from the
foot of the altars into the sanctuary of the temple. The extravagance of
the Grecian mythology proclaimed, with a clear and audible voice, that
the pious inquirer, instead of being scandalized or satisfied with the
literal sense, should diligently explore the occult wisdom, which had
been disguised, by the prudence of antiquity, under the mask of folly
and of fable. The philosophers of the Platonic school, Plotinus,
Porphyry, and the divine Iamblichus, were admired as the most skilful
masters of this allegorical science, which labored to soften and
harmonize the deformed features of Paganism. Julian himself, who was
directed in the mysterious pursuit by Ædesius, the venerable successor
of Iamblichus, aspired to the possession of a treasure, which he
esteemed, if we may credit his solemn asseverations, far above the
empire of the world. It was indeed a treasure, which derived its value
only from opinion; and every artist who flattered himself that he had
extracted the precious ore from the surrounding dross, claimed an equal
right of stamping the name and figure the most agreeable to his peculiar
fancy. The fable of Atys and Cybele had been already explained by
Porphyry; but his labors served only to animate the pious industry of
Julian, who invented and published his own allegory of that ancient and
mystic tale. This freedom of interpretation, which might gratify the
pride of the Platonists, exposed the vanity of their art. Without a
tedious detail, the modern reader could not form a just idea of the
strange allusions, the forced etymologies, the solemn trifling, and the
impenetrable obscurity of these sages, who professed to reveal the
system of the universe. As the traditions of Pagan mythology were
variously related, the sacred interpreters were at liberty to select the
most convenient circumstances; and as they translated an arbitrary
cipher, they could extract from any fable any sense which was adapted to
their favorite system of religion and philosophy. The lascivious form of
a naked Venus was tortured into the discovery of some moral precept, or
some physical truth; and the castration of Atys explained the revolution
of the sun between the tropics, or the separation of the human soul from
vice and error.
The theological system of Julian appears to have contained the sublime
and important principles of natural religion. But as the faith, which is
not founded on revelation, must remain destitute of any firm assurance,
the disciple of Plato imprudently relapsed into the habits of vulgar
superstition; and the popular and philosophic notion of the Deity seems
to have been confounded in the practice, the writings, and even in the
mind of Julian. The pious emperor acknowledged and adored the Eternal
Cause of the universe, to whom he ascribed all the perfections of an
infinite nature, invisible to the eyes and inaccessible to the
understanding, of feeble mortals. The Supreme God had created, or
rather, in the Platonic language, had generated, the gradual succession
of dependent spirits, of gods, of dæmons, of heroes, and of men; and
every being which derived its existence immediately from the First
Cause, received the inherent gift of immortality. That so precious an
advantage might be lavished upon unworthy objects, the Creator had
intrusted to the skill and power of the inferior gods the office of
forming the human body, and of arranging the beautiful harmony of the
animal, the vegetable, and the mineral kingdoms. To the conduct of these
divine ministers he delegated the temporal government of this lower
world; but their imperfect administration is not exempt from discord or
error. The earth and its inhabitants are divided among them, and the
characters of Mars or Minerva, of Mercury or Venus, may be distinctly
traced in the laws and manners of their peculiar votaries. As long as
our immortal souls are confined in a mortal prison, it is our interest,
as well as our duty, to solicit the favor, and to deprecate the wrath,
of the powers of heaven; whose pride is gratified by the devotion of
mankind; and whose grosser parts may be supposed to derive some
nourishment from the fumes of sacrifice. The inferior gods might
sometimes condescend to animate the statues, and to inhabit the temples,
which were dedicated to their honor. They might occasionally visit the
earth, but the heavens were the proper throne and symbol of their glory.
The invariable order of the sun, moon, and stars, was hastily admitted
by Julian, as a proof of their eternalduration; and their eternity was a
sufficient evidence that they were the workmanship, not of an inferior
deity, but of the Omnipotent King. In the system of Platonists, the
visible was a type of the invisible world. The celestial bodies, as they
were informed by a divine spirit, might be considered as the objects the
most worthy of religious worship. The Sun, whose genial influence
pervades and sustains the universe, justly claimed the adoration of
mankind, as the bright representative of the Logos, the lively, the
rational, the beneficent image of the intellectual Father.
In every age, the absence of genuine inspiration is supplied by the
strong illusions of enthusiasm, and the mimic arts of imposture. If, in
the time of Julian, these arts had been practised only by the pagan
priests, for the support of an expiring cause, some indulgence might
perhaps be allowed to the interest and habits of the sacerdotal
character. But it may appear a subject of surprise and scandal, that the
philosophers themselves should have contributed to abuse the
superstitious credulity of mankind, and that the Grecian mysteries
should have been supported by the magic or theurgy of the modern
Platonists. They arrogantly pretended to control the order of nature, to
explore the secrets of futurity, to command the service of the inferior
dæmons, to enjoy the view and conversation of the superior gods, and by
disengaging the soul from her material bands, to reunite that immortal
particle with the Infinite and Divine Spirit.
The devout and fearless curiosity of Julian tempted the philosophers
with the hopes of an easy conquest; which, from the situation of their
young proselyte, might be productive of the most important consequences.
Julian imbibed the first rudiments of the Platonic doctrines from the
mouth of Ædesius, who had fixed at Pergamus his wandering and persecuted
school. But as the declining strength of that venerable sage was unequal
to the ardor, the diligence, the rapid conception of his pupil, two of
his most learned disciples, Chrysanthes and Eusebius, supplied, at his
own desire, the place of their aged master. These philosophers seem to
have prepared and distributed their respective parts; and they artfully
contrived, by dark hints and affected disputes, to excite the impatient
hopes of the aspirant, till they delivered him into the hands of their
associate, Maximus, the boldest and most skilful master of the Theurgic
science. By his hands, Julian was secretly initiated at Ephesus, in the
twentieth year of his age. His residence at Athens confirmed this
unnatural alliance of philosophy and superstition. He obtained the
privilege of a solemn initiation into the mysteries of Eleusis, which,
amidst the general decay of the Grecian worship, still retained some
vestiges of their primæval sanctity; and such was the zeal of Julian,
that he afterwards invited the Eleusinian pontiff to the court of Gaul,
for the sole purpose of consummating, by mystic rites and sacrifices,
the great work of his sanctification. As these ceremonies were performed
in the depth of caverns, and in the silence of the night, and as the
inviolable secret of the mysteries was preserved by the discretion of
the initiated, I shall not presume to describe the horrid sounds, and
fiery apparitions, which were presented to the senses, or the
imagination, of the credulous aspirant, till the visions of comfort and
knowledge broke upon him in a blaze of celestial light. In the caverns
of Ephesus and Eleusis, the mind of Julian was penetrated with sincere,
deep, and unalterable enthusiasm; though he might sometimes exhibit the
vicissitudes of pious fraud and hypocrisy, which may be observed, or at
least suspected, in the characters of the most conscientious fanatics.
From that moment he consecrated his life to the service of the gods; and
while the occupations of war, of government, and of study, seemed to
claim the whole measure of his time, a stated portion of the hours of
the night was invariably reserved for the exercise of private devotion.
The temperance which adorned the severe manners of the soldier and the
philosopher was connected with some strict and frivolous rules of
religious abstinence; and it was in honor of Pan or Mercury, of Hecate
or Isis, that Julian, on particular days, denied himself the use of some
particular food, which might have been offensive to his tutelar deities.
By these voluntary fasts, he prepared his senses and his understanding
for the frequent and familiar visits with which he was honored by the
celestial powers. Notwithstanding the modest silence of Julian himself,
we may learn from his faithful friend, the orator Libanius, that he
lived in a perpetual intercourse with the gods and goddesses; that they
descended upon earth to enjoy the conversation of their favorite hero;
that they gently interrupted his slumbers by touching his hand or his
hair; that they warned him of every impending danger, and conducted him,
by their infallible wisdom, in every action of his life; and that he had
acquired such an intimate knowledge of his heavenly guests, as readily
to distinguish the voice of Jupiter from that of Minerva, and the form
of Apollo from the figure of Hercules. These sleeping or waking visions,
the ordinary effects of abstinence and fanaticism, would almost degrade
the emperor to the level of an Egyptian monk. But the useless lives of
Antony or Pachomius were consumed in these vain occupations. Julian
could break from the dream of superstition to arm himself for battle;
and after vanquishing in the field the enemies of Rome, he calmly
retired into his tent, to dictate the wise and salutary laws of an
empire, or to indulge his genius in the elegant pursuits of literature
and philosophy.
The important secret of the apostasy of Julian was intrusted to the
fidelity of the initiated, with whom he was united by the sacred ties of
friendship and religion. The pleasing rumor was cautiously circulated
among the adherents of the ancient worship; and his future greatness
became the object of the hopes, the prayers, and the predictions of the
Pagans, in every province of the empire. From the zeal and virtues of
their royal proselyte, they fondly expected the cure of every evil, and
the restoration of every blessing; and instead of disapproving of the
ardor of their pious wishes, Julian ingenuously confessed, that he was
ambitious to attain a situation in which he might be useful to his
country and to his religion. But this religion was viewed with a hostile
eye by the successor of Constantine, whose capricious passions
alternately saved and threatened the life of Julian. The arts of magic
and divination were strictly prohibited under a despotic government,
which condescended to fear them; and if the Pagans were reluctantly
indulged in the exercise of their superstition, the rank of Julian would
have excepted him from the general toleration. The apostate soon became
the presumptive heir of the monarchy, and his death could alone have
appeased the just apprehensions of the Christians. But the young prince,
who aspired to the glory of a hero rather than of a martyr, consulted
his safety by dissembling his religion; and the easy temper of
polytheism permitted him to join in the public worship of a sect which
he inwardly despised. Libanius has considered the hypocrisy of his
friend as a subject, not of censure, but of praise. "As the statues of
the gods," says that orator, "which have been defiled with filth, are
again placed in a magnificent temple, so the beauty of truth was seated
in the mind of Julian, after it had been purified from the errors and
follies of his education. His sentiments were changed; but as it would
have been dangerous to have avowed his sentiments, his conduct still
continued the same. Very different from the ass in Æsop, who disguised
himself with a lion's hide, our lion was obliged to conceal himself
under the skin of an ass; and, while he embraced the dictates of reason,
to obey the laws of prudence and necessity." The dissimulation of Julian
lasted about ten years, from his secret initiation at Ephesus to the
beginning of the civil war; when he declared himself at once the
implacable enemy of Christ and of Constantius. This state of constraint
might contribute to strengthen his devotion; and as soon as he had
satisfied the obligation of assisting, on solemn festivals, at the
assemblies of the Christians, Julian returned, with the impatience of a
lover, to burn his free and voluntary incense on the domestic chapels of
Jupiter and Mercury. But as every act of dissimulation must be painful
to an ingenuous spirit, the profession of Christianity increased the
aversion of Julian for a religion which oppressed the freedom of his
mind, and compelled him to hold a conduct repugnant to the noblest
attributes of human nature, sincerity and courage.
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