Gibbon's The Decline And Fall Of The Roman Empire
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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
Cæsars, 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 Cæsars 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 Cæsars 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 Cæsar,
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 Cæsar,
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 Cæsars 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.
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