eities 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 Caesars 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 Caesars 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 Caesar,
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 Caesar,
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 Caesars 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 th