Res Gestae

On seeing him aloft, vainly begging for the aid of his fellows, the

During the administration of this Leontius, a priest of the Christian religion, Liberius by name, by order of Constantius[*](At Mediolanum, where Constantius then was.) was brought before the privy council on the charge of opposing the emperor’s commands and the decrees of the majority of his colleagues in an affair which I shall run over briefly.

Athanasius, at that time bishop of Alexandria, was a man who exalted himself above his calling and tried to pry into matters outside his province, as persistent rumours revealed; therefore an assembly which had been convoked of members of that same sect—a synod, as they call it—deposed him from the rank that he held.

For it was reported that, being highly skilled in the interpretation of prophetic lots or of the omens indicated by birds, he had sometimes foretold future events; and besides this he was also charged with other practices repugnant to the purposes of the religion over which he presided.

Liberius, when directed by the emperor’s order to depose him from his priesthood by endorsing the official decree, though holding the same opinion as the rest strenuously objected, crying out that it was the height of injustice to condemn a man unseen and unheard, thus, of course, openly defying the emperor’s will.

For although Constantius, who was always hostile to Athanasius, knew that the matter had been carried out, yet he strove with eager desire to have it ratified also by the higher power of the bishop of the Eternal City;[*](One of the earliest indications of the growing importance of the Roman bishops.) and since he could not obtain this, Liberius was spirited away, but only with the greatest difficulty and in the middle of the night, for fear of the populace, who were devotedly attached to him.

This, then, was the situation at Rome, as the preceding text has shown. But Constantius was disquieted by frequent messages reporting that Gaul was in desperate case, since the savages were ruinously devastating everything without opposition. And after worrying for a long time how he might forcibly avert these disasters, while himself remaining in Italy as he desired—for he thought it risky to thrust himself into a far—distant regionhe at length hit upon the right plan and thought of associating with himself in a share of the empire his cousin Julian,[*](Cf. Zosimus, iii. 1 ff.) who not so very long before had been summoned from the district of Achaia and still wore his student’s cloak.[*](The pallium was the characteristic Greek cloak, worn among others by students.)

When Constantius, driven by the weight of impending calamities, admitted his purpose to his intimates, openly declaring (what he had never done before) that in his lone state he was giving way before so many and such frequent crises, they,

To them in their obstinate resistance the queen alone opposed herself, whether she dreaded journeying to a far country or with her native intelligence took counsel for the common good, and she declared that a kinsman ought to be preferred to every one else. So, after much bandying the matter to and fro in fruitless deliberations, the emperor’s resolution stood firm, and setting aside all bootless discussion, he decided to admit Julian to a share in the imperial power.

So when he had been summoned and had arrived, on an appointed day all his fellow-soldiers there present were called together, and a platform was erected on a lofty scaffolding, surrounded by the eagles and the standards. On this Augustus stood, and holding Julian by the right hand, in a quiet tone delivered the following address: