Book 5
Julian’s Upbringing, Education and Rise to Power
As soon as Constantius was dead, fear of a persecution arose in the church, and Christians suffered more anguish in expecting the disaster than they would have suffered had it actually come. This feeling came from three things: a long interval had made them unused to such dangers; they remembered the tortures the tyrants had inflicted on their fathers; and they knew how the emperor hated their teaching. It is said that he renounced the faith of Christ so openly and so completely that he purged himself of our baptism with sacrifices and purifications, which the pagans call rites of renunciation, and with the blood of animals. From then on he busied himself with auguries and with celebrating the pagan rites, both in public and in private. It is told that one day, as he was inspecting the entrails of a sacrificed animal, he saw among them a cross surrounded by a crown. This sight terrified those who were assisting at the ceremony, for they judged that it pointed to the strength of the religion and to the everlasting duration of the Christian teaching. The crown that surrounded it is the symbol of victory, and it is also a symbol of continuity, because a circle begins everywhere and ends in itself and has no limit in any direction. But the chief augur told Julian to take heart, because in his judgment the sacrifice was favorable: the entrails surrounded the symbol of the Christian teaching and were even pressing in on it, so that it could not spread and expand where it wished, since it was hemmed in by the circumference of the circle.
I have also heard that one day Julian went down into a most famous and terrifying inner shrine, either to take part in some initiation or to consult an oracle. By means of machinery devised for the purpose, or by enchantments, such frightful apparitions were suddenly thrown up before him that in his confusion and fear he forgot who was present. He had turned to his new religion only as a grown man, and so without thinking he fell back into his earlier habit and signed himself with the symbol of Christ, just as a Christian does when surrounded by unfamiliar dangers. At once the apparitions vanished and their designs came to nothing. The initiator was surprised at first, but when he learned why the demons had fled, he declared that the act was a profanation. He urged the emperor to be brave and to have nothing to do, in deed or in thought, with anything belonging to the Christian religion, and then he led him back to the initiation. The emperor’s zeal for such things grieved the Christians not a little and made them extremely anxious, all the more because he had once been a Christian himself. He was born of devout parents, had been initiated in infancy according to the custom of the church, had been brought up in the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, and had been raised by bishops and churchmen. He and Gallus were the sons of Constantius, who was the brother, by the same father, of the emperor Constantine, and also the brother of Dalmatius. Dalmatius had a son of the same name, who was declared Caesar and was killed by the soldiers after the death of Constantine. Gallus and Julian, who were then orphans, would have shared his fate, except that Gallus was spared because of an illness he was suffering from, which it was thought would soon carry him off naturally, and Julian because of his extreme youth, for he was only eight years old. After this remarkable escape, the two brothers were given a residence in a palace called Macellum, in Cappadocia. This imperial estate was near Mount Argaeus and not far from Caesarea. It had a magnificent palace and was adorned with baths, gardens and ever-flowing springs. Here they were brought up and educated in a way that suited the dignity of their birth. Teachers of languages and interpreters of the Holy Scriptures taught them the branches of learning and the bodily exercises proper to their age, so that they were even enrolled among the clergy and read the church’s books to the people. Their habits and actions showed no falling away from piety. They respected the clergy, and other good people, and those who were zealous for doctrine. They went to church regularly and paid due honor to the tombs of the martyrs.
It is said that they undertook to enclose the tomb of Saint Mammas the martyr in a large building, and to divide the work between them. While they were competing with each other for the honor, something happened so astonishing that it would be utterly unbelievable, were it not for the testimony of many people still among us, who heard it from eyewitnesses. The part of the building Gallus worked on went up quickly and as he wished. But of the part Julian worked on, one portion fell into ruin; another was thrown up out of the ground; and a third, as soon as it touched the foundation, could not be kept upright but was flung backward, as if some strong, resisting force from beneath were pushing against it. Everyone took this for a portent. The people, however, drew no conclusion from it until later events made its meaning plain. From that moment a few doubted whether Julian’s religion was real. They suspected that he made an outward show of piety only for fear of displeasing the emperor, who was then a Christian, and that he hid his own convictions because it was not safe to reveal them. It is claimed that he was first led, in secret, to renounce the religion of his fathers through his dealings with diviners. When Constantius’s anger against the two brothers had cooled, Gallus went to Asia and settled in Ephesus, where most of his property lay, and Julian went to Constantinople and attended the schools. There his fine natural gifts and his quickness in learning did not stay hidden. He appeared in public dressed as a private citizen and kept much company. But because he was related to the emperor, was capable of managing affairs, and was expected to become emperor, a good deal of talk about him to this effect went around, as usually happens in a populous imperial city, and he was ordered to withdraw to Nicomedia.
There he became acquainted with Maximus, a philosopher of Ephesus, who taught him philosophy, filled him with hatred of the Christian religion, and also assured him that the much-talked-of prophecy about him was true. As happens in many cases, Julian, who was suffering in anticipation of hard times, was softened by these favorable hopes and kept Maximus as his friend. When these things reached the ears of Constantius, Julian grew afraid, and so he shaved his head and outwardly took up the monastic way of life, while in secret he held to the other religion. When he came of age, he was more easily carried away, and yet he was anxious about these leanings. He admired the art of predicting the future, if there is such an art, and thought that knowing it was necessary, and he went on to experiments that are not lawful for Christians. From then on his friends were those who practiced this art. With this outlook he came from Nicomedia into Asia, and there, in the company of men given to such practices, he pursued divination more eagerly still. When his brother Gallus, who had been made Caesar, was put to death after being accused of plotting a revolt, Constantius also suspected Julian of wanting the empire, and so he put him under guard.
Eusebia, the wife of Constantius, obtained permission for him to withdraw to Athens. So he settled there, on the pretext of attending the pagan schools and their studies; but rumor says that he consulted diviners about his future. Constantius recalled him, proclaimed him Caesar, promised him his sister Constantia in marriage, and sent him to Gaul. For the barbarians whose help Constantius had earlier hired against Magnentius, finding that their services were not needed, had divided that country up among themselves. Because Julian was very young, generals were sent with him, and the conduct of affairs was entrusted to them. But these generals gave themselves up to pleasure, so Julian, as Caesar, took charge himself and saw to the war. He strengthened his soldiers’ will to fight and urged them in other ways to face danger, and he ordered a fixed reward to be given to every man who killed a barbarian. Once he had won the soldiers’ affection in this way, he wrote to Constantius to tell him how careless the generals were. When another general had been sent, he attacked the barbarians and won the victory. They sent embassies to beg for peace, and showed the letter in which Constantius had asked them to enter Roman territory. Julian deliberately delayed sending the envoy back, and he fell on a number of the enemy unexpectedly and defeated them.
Some have said that Constantius gave him this campaign out of deliberate hostility, but that does not seem likely to me. Since it was up to Constantius alone to name him Caesar, why did he give him that title? Why did he give him his sister in marriage, or listen to his complaints against the ineffective generals and send a capable one in their place to finish the war, if he were not friendly to Julian? My own guess is that he gave him the title of Caesar because he was well disposed toward Julian, but that after Julian had been proclaimed emperor without his approval, he plotted against him through the barbarians on the Rhine. I think this came either from fear that Julian would seek revenge for the ill treatment he and his brother Gallus had suffered in their youth, or, as would be natural, from jealousy at his reaching the same rank. But a great variety of opinions are held on this subject.