History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, by Edward Gibbon, Esq.
With notes by the Rev. H. H. Milman
Vol. 2
1782 (Written), 1845 (Revised)
Chapter XXIII: Reign of Julian. -- Part
II.
The inclination of Julian might prefer the gods of Homer, and
of the Scipios, to the new faith, which his uncle had established
in the Roman empire; and in which he himself had been sanctified
by the sacrament of baptism. But, as a philosopher, it was
incumbent on him to justify his dissent from Christianity, which
was supported by the number of its converts, by the chain of
prophecy, the splendor of or miracles, and the weight of
evidence. The elaborate work, which he composed amidst the
preparations of the Persian war, contained the substance of those
arguments which he had long revolved in his mind. Some fragments
have been transcribed and preserved, by his adversary, the
vehement Cyril of Alexandria; and they exhibit a very singular
mixture of wit and learning, of sophistry and fanaticism. The
elegance of the style and the rank of the author, recommended his
writings to the public attention; and in the impious list of the
enemies of Christianity, the celebrated name of Porphyry was
effaced by the superior merit or reputation of Julian. The minds
of the faithful were either seduced, or scandalized, or alarmed;
and the pagans, who sometimes presumed to engage in the unequal
dispute, derived, from the popular work of their Imperial
missionary, an inexhaustible supply of fallacious objections. But
in the assiduous prosecution of these theological studies, the
emperor of the Romans imbibed the illiberal prejudices and
passions of a polemic divine. He contracted an irrevocable
obligation to maintain and propagate his religious opinions; and
whilst he secretly applauded the strength and dexterity with
which he wielded the weapons of controversy, he was tempted to
distrust the sincerity, or to despise the understandings, of his
antagonists, who could obstinately resist the force of reason and
eloquence.
The Christians, who beheld with horror and indignation the
apostasy of Julian, had much more to fear from his power than
from his arguments. The pagans, who were conscious of his fervent
zeal, expected, perhaps with impatience, that the flames of
persecution should be immediately kindled against the enemies of
the gods; and that the ingenious malice of Julian would invent
some cruel refinements of death and torture which had been
unknown to the rude and inexperienced fury of his predecessors.
But the hopes, as well as the fears, of the religious factions
were apparently disappointed, by the prudent humanity of a
prince, who was careful of his own fame, of the public peace, and
of the rights of mankind. Instructed by history and reflection,
Julian was persuaded, that if the diseases of the body may
sometimes be cured by salutary violence, neither steel nor fire
can eradicate the erroneous opinions of the mind. The reluctant
victim may be dragged to the foot of the altar; but the heart
still abhors and disclaims the sacrilegious act of the hand.
Religious obstinacy is hardened and exasperated by oppression;
and, as soon as the persecution subsides, those who have yielded
are restored as penitents, and those who have resisted are
honored as saints and martyrs. If Julian adopted the unsuccessful
cruelty of Diocletian and his colleagues, he was sensible that he
should stain his memory with the name of a tyrant, and add new
glories to the Catholic church, which had derived strength and
increase from the severity of the pagan magistrates. Actuated by
these motives, and apprehensive of disturbing the repose of an
unsettled reign, Julian surprised the world by an edict, which
was not unworthy of a statesman, or a philosopher. He extended to
all the inhabitants of the Roman world the benefits of a free and
equal toleration; and the only hardship which he inflicted on the
Christians, was to deprive them of the power of tormenting their
fellow-subjects, whom they stigmatized with the odious titles of
idolaters and heretics. The pagans received a gracious
permission, or rather an express order, to open All their
temples; and they were at once delivered from the oppressive
laws, and arbitrary vexations, which they had sustained under the
reign of Constantine, and of his sons. At the same time the
bishops and clergy, who had been banished by the Arian monarch,
were recalled from exile, and restored to their respective
churches; the Donatists, the Novatians, the Macedonians, the
Eunomians, and those who, with a more prosperous fortune, adhered
to the doctrine of the Council of Nice. Julian, who understood
and derided their theological disputes, invited to the palace the
leaders of the hostile sects, that he might enjoy the agreeable
spectacle of their furious encounters. The clamor of controversy
sometimes provoked the emperor to exclaim, "Hear me! the Franks
have heard me, and the Alemanni;" but he soon discovered that he
was now engaged with more obstinate and implacable enemies; and
though he exerted the powers of oratory to persuade them to live
in concord, or at least in peace, he was perfectly satisfied,
before he dismissed them from his presence, that he had nothing
to dread from the union of the Christians. The impartial Ammianus
has ascribed this affected clemency to the desire of fomenting
the intestine divisions of the church, and the insidious design
of undermining the foundations of Christianity, was inseparably
connected with the zeal which Julian professed, to restore the
ancient religion of the empire.
As soon as he ascended the throne, he assumed, according to
the custom of his predecessors, the character of supreme pontiff;
not only as the most honorable title of Imperial greatness, but
as a sacred and important office; the duties of which he was
resolved to execute with pious diligence. As the business of the
state prevented the emperor from joining every day in the public
devotion of his subjects, he dedicated a domestic chapel to his
tutelar deity the Sun; his gardens were filled with statues and
altars of the gods; and each apartment of the palace displaced
the appearance of a magnificent temple. Every morning he saluted
the parent of light with a sacrifice; the blood of another victim
was shed at the moment when the Sun sunk below the horizon; and
the Moon, the Stars, and the Genii of the night received their
respective and seasonable honors from the indefatigable devotion
of Julian. On solemn festivals, he regularly visited the temple
of the god or goddess to whom the day was peculiarly consecrated,
and endeavored to excite the religion of the magistrates and
people by the example of his own zeal. Instead of maintaining the
lofty state of a monarch, distinguished by the splendor of his
purple, and encompassed by the golden shields of his guards,
Julian solicited, with respectful eagerness, the meanest offices
which contributed to the worship of the gods. Amidst the sacred
but licentious crowd of priests, of inferior ministers, and of
female dancers, who were dedicated to the service of the temple,
it was the business of the emperor to bring the wood, to blow the
fire, to handle the knife, to slaughter the victim, and,
thrusting his bloody hands into the bowels of the expiring
animal, to draw forth the heart or liver, and to read, with the
consummate skill of an haruspex, imaginary signs of future
events. The wisest of the Pagans censured this extravagant
superstition, which affected to despise the restraints of
prudence and decency. Under the reign of a prince, who practised
the rigid maxims of economy, the expense of religious worship
consumed a very large portion of the revenue a constant supply of
the scarcest and most beautiful birds was transported from
distant climates, to bleed on the altars of the gods; a hundred
oxen were frequently sacrificed by Julian on one and the same
day; and it soon became a popular jest, that if he should return
with conquest from the Persian war, the breed of horned cattle
must infallibly be extinguished. Yet this expense may appear
inconsiderable, when it is compared with the splendid presents
which were offered either by the hand, or by order, of the
emperor, to all the celebrated places of devotion in the Roman
world; and with the sums allotted to repair and decorate the
ancient temples, which had suffered the silent decay of time, or
the recent injuries of Christian rapine. Encouraged by the
example, the exhortations, the liberality, of their pious
sovereign, the cities and families resumed the practice of their
neglected ceremonies. "Every part of the world," exclaims
Libanius, with devout transport, "displayed the triumph of
religion; and the grateful prospect of flaming altars, bleeding
victims, the smoke of incense, and a solemn train of priests and
prophets, without fear and without danger. The sound of prayer
and of music was heard on the tops of the highest mountains; and
the same ox afforded a sacrifice for the gods, and a supper for
their joyous votaries."
But the genius and power of Julian were unequal to the
enterprise of restoring a religion which was destitute of
theological principles, of moral precepts, and of ecclesiastical
discipline; which rapidly hastened to decay and dissolution, and
was not susceptible of any solid or consistent reformation. The
jurisdiction of the supreme pontiff, more especially after that
office had been united with the Imperial dignity, comprehended
the whole extent of the Roman empire. Julian named for his
vicars, in the several provinces, the priests and philosophers
whom he esteemed the best qualified to cooperate in the execution
of his great design; and his pastoral letters, if we may use that
name, still represent a very curious sketch of his wishes and
intentions. He directs, that in every city the sacerdotal order
should be composed, without any distinction of birth and fortune,
of those persons who were the most conspicuous for the love of
the gods, and of men. "If they are guilty," continues he, "of any
scandalous offence, they should be censured or degraded by the
superior pontiff; but as long as they retain their rank, they are
entitled to the respect of the magistrates and people. Their
humility may be shown in the plainness of their domestic garb;
their dignity, in the pomp of holy vestments. When they are
summoned in their turn to officiate before the altar, they ought
not, during the appointed number of days, to depart from the
precincts of the temple; nor should a single day be suffered to
elapse, without the prayers and the sacrifice, which they are
obliged to offer for the prosperity of the state, and of
individuals. The exercise of their sacred functions requires an
immaculate purity, both of mind and body; and even when they are
dismissed from the temple to the occupations of common life, it
is incumbent on them to excel in decency and virtue the rest of
their fellow-citizens. The priest of the gods should never be
seen in theatres or taverns. His conversation should be chaste,
his diet temperate, his friends of honorable reputation; and if
he sometimes visits the Forum or the Palace, he should appear
only as the advocate of those who have vainly solicited either
justice or mercy. His studies should be suited to the sanctity of
his profession. Licentious tales, or comedies, or satires, must
be banished from his library, which ought solely to consist of
historical or philosophical writings; of history, which is
founded in truth, and of philosophy, which is connected with
religion. The impious opinions of the Epicureans and sceptics
deserve his abhorrence and contempt; but he should diligently
study the systems of Pythagoras, of Plato, and of the Stoics,
which unanimously teach that there are
gods; that the world is governed by their providence; that their
goodness is the source of every temporal blessing; and that they
have prepared for the human soul a future state of reward or
punishment." The Imperial pontiff inculcates, in the most
persuasive language, the duties of benevolence and hospitality;
exhorts his inferior clergy to recommend the universal practice
of those virtues; promises to assist their indigence from the
public treasury; and declares his resolution of establishing
hospitals in every city, where the poor should be received
without any invidious distinction of country or of religion.
Julian beheld with envy the wise and humane regulations of the
church; and he very frankly confesses his intention to deprive
the Christians of the applause, as well as advantage, which they
had acquired by the exclusive practice of charity and
beneficence. The same spirit of imitation might dispose the
emperor to adopt several ecclesiastical institutions, the use and
importance of which were approved by the success of his enemies.
But if these imaginary plans of reformation had been realized,
the forced and imperfect copy would have been less beneficial to
Paganism, than honorable to Christianity. The Gentiles, who
peaceably followed the customs of their ancestors, were rather
surprised than pleased with the introduction of foreign manners;
and in the short period of his reign, Julian had frequent
occasions to complain of the want of fervor of his own party.
The enthusiasm of Julian prompted him to embrace the friends
of Jupiter as his personal friends and brethren; and though he
partially overlooked the merit of Christian constancy, he admired
and rewarded the noble perseverance of those Gentiles who had
preferred the favor of the gods to that of the emperor. If they
cultivated the literature, as well as the religion, of the
Greeks, they acquired an additional claim to the friendship of
Julian, who ranked the Muses in the number of his tutelar
deities. In the religion which he had adopted, piety and learning
were almost synonymous; and a crowd of poets, of rhetoricians,
and of philosophers, hastened to the Imperial court, to occupy
the vacant places of the bishops, who had seduced the credulity
of Constantius. His successor esteemed the ties of common
initiation as far more sacred than those of consanguinity; he
chose his favorites among the sages, who were deeply skilled in
the occult sciences of magic and divination; and every impostor,
who pretended to reveal the secrets of futurity, was assured of
enjoying the present hour in honor and affluence. Among the
philosophers, Maximus obtained the most eminent rank in the
friendship of his royal disciple, who communicated, with
unreserved confidence, his actions, his sentiments, and his
religious designs, during the anxious suspense of the civil war.
As soon as Julian had taken possession of the palace of
Constantinople, he despatched an honorable and pressing
invitation to Maximus, who then resided at Sardes in Lydia, with
Chrysanthius, the associate of his art and studies. The prudent
and superstitious Chrysanthius refused to undertake a journey
which showed itself, according to the rules of divination, with
the most threatening and malignant aspect: but his companion,
whose fanaticism was of a bolder cast, persisted in his
interrogations, till he had extorted from the gods a seeming
consent to his own wishes, and those of the emperor. The journey
of Maximus through the cities of Asia displayed the triumph of
philosophic vanity; and the magistrates vied with each other in
the honorable reception which they prepared for the friend of
their sovereign. Julian was pronouncing an oration before the
senate, when he was informed of the arrival of Maximus. The
emperor immediately interrupted his discourse, advanced to meet
him, and after a tender embrace, conducted him by the hand into
the midst of the assembly; where he publicly acknowledged the
benefits which he had derived from the instructions of the
philosopher. Maximus, who soon acquired the confidence, and
influenced the councils of Julian, was insensibly corrupted by
the temptations of a court. His dress became more splendid, his
demeanor more lofty, and he was exposed, under a succeeding
reign, to a disgraceful inquiry into the means by which the
disciple of Plato had accumulated, in the short duration of his
favor, a very scandalous proportion of wealth. Of the other
philosophers and sophists, who were invited to the Imperial
residence by the choice of Julian, or by the success of Maximus,
few were able to preserve their innocence or their reputation.
The liberal gifts of money, lands, and houses, were insufficient
to satiate their rapacious avarice; and the indignation of the
people was justly excited by the remembrance of their abject
poverty and disinterested professions. The penetration of Julian
could not always be deceived: but he was unwilling to despise the
characters of those men whose talents deserved his esteem: he
desired to escape the double reproach of imprudence and
inconstancy; and he was apprehensive of degrading, in the eyes of
the profane, the honor of letters and of religion.
The favor of Julian was almost equally divided between the
Pagans, who had firmly adhered to the worship of their ancestors,
and the Christians, who prudently embraced the religion of their
sovereign. The acquisition of new proselytes gratified the ruling
passions of his soul, superstition and vanity; and he was heard
to declare, with the enthusiasm of a missionary, that if he could
render each individual richer than Midas, and every city greater
than Babylon, he should not esteem himself the benefactor of
mankind, unless, at the same time, he could reclaim his subjects
from their impious revolt against the immortal gods. A prince who
had studied human nature, and who possessed the treasures of the
Roman empire, could adapt his arguments, his promises, and his
rewards, to every order of Christians; and the merit of a
seasonable conversion was allowed to supply the defects of a
candidate, or even to expiate the guilt of a criminal. As the
army is the most forcible engine of absolute power, Julian
applied himself, with peculiar diligence, to corrupt the religion
of his troops, without whose hearty concurrence every measure
must be dangerous and unsuccessful; and the natural temper of
soldiers made this conquest as easy as it was important. The
legions of Gaul devoted themselves to the faith, as well as to
the fortunes, of their victorious leader; and even before the
death of Constantius, he had the satisfaction of announcing to
his friends, that they assisted with fervent devotion, and
voracious appetite, at the sacrifices, which were repeatedly
offered in his camp, of whole hecatombs of fat oxen. The armies
of the East, which had been trained under the standard of the
cross, and of Constantius, required a more artful and expensive
mode of persuasion. On the days of solemn and public festivals,
the emperor received the homage, and rewarded the merit, of the
troops. His throne of state was encircled with the military
ensigns of Rome and the republic; the holy name of Christ was
erased from the Labarum; and the symbols of war, of majesty, and
of pagan superstition, were so dexterously blended, that the
faithful subject incurred the guilt of idolatry, when he
respectfully saluted the person or image of his sovereign. The
soldiers passed successively in review; and each of them, before
he received from the hand of Julian a liberal donative,
proportioned to his rank and services, was required to cast a few
grains of incense into the flame which burnt upon the altar. Some
Christian confessors might resist, and others might repent; but
the far greater number, allured by the prospect of gold, and awed
by the presence of the emperor, contracted the criminal
engagement; and their future perseverance in the worship of the
gods was enforced by every consideration of duty and of interest.
By the frequent repetition of these arts, and at the expense of
sums which would have purchased the service of half the nations
of Scythia, Julian gradually acquired for his troops the
imaginary protection of the gods, and for himself the firm and
effectual support of the Roman legions. It is indeed more than
probable, that the restoration and encouragement of Paganism
revealed a multitude of pretended Christians, who, from motives
of temporal advantage, had acquiesced in the religion of the
former reign; and who afterwards returned, with the same
flexibility of conscience, to the faith which was professed by
the successors of Julian.
While the devout monarch incessantly labored to restore and propagate the religion of his ancestors, he embraced the extraordinary design of rebuilding the temple of Jerusalem. In a public epistle to the nation or community of the Jews, dispersed through the provinces, he pities their misfortunes, condemns their oppressors, praises their constancy, declares himself their gracious protector, and expresses a pious hope, that after his return from the Persian war, he may be permitted to pay his grateful vows to the Almighty in his holy city of Jerusalem. The blind superstition, and abject slavery, of those unfortunate exiles, must excite the contempt of a philosophic emperor; but they deserved the friendship of Julian, by their implacable hatred of the Christian name. The barren synagogue abhorred and envied the fecundity of the rebellious church; the power of the Jews was not equal to their malice; but their gravest rabbis approved the private murder of an apostate; and their seditious clamors had often awakened the indolence of the Pagan magistrates. Under the reign of Constantine, the Jews became the subjects of their revolted children nor was it long before they experienced the bitterness of domestic tyranny. The civil immunities which had been granted, or confirmed, by Severus, were gradually repealed by the Christian princes; and a rash tumult, excited by the Jews of Palestine, seemed to justify the lucrative modes of oppression which were invented by the bishops and eunuchs of the court of Constantius. The Jewish patriarch, who was still permitted to exercise a precarious jurisdiction, held his residence at Tiberias; and the neighboring cities of Palestine were filled with the remains of a people who fondly adhered to the promised land. But the edict of Hadrian was renewed and enforced; and they viewed from afar the walls of the holy city, which were profaned in their eyes by the triumph of the cross and the devotion of the Christians.
