t him to darkness, solitude,
and terrible reflection, he passed a sleepless night; revolving most
probably in his mind his own rash folly, the fate of his virtuous
predecessor, and the doubtful and dangerous tenure of an empire which
had not been acquired by merit, but purchased by money. [14]

[Footnote 12: Dion Cassius, at that time praetor, had been a personal
enemy to Julian, i. lxxiii. p. 1235.]

[Footnote 13: Hist. August. p. 61. We learn from thence one curious
circumstance, that the new emperor, whatever had been his birth, was
immediately aggregated to the number of patrician families. Note: A new
fragment of Dion shows some shrewdness in the character of Julian. When
the senate voted him a golden statue, he preferred one of brass, as more
lasting. He "had always observed," he said, "that the statues of former
emperors were soon destroyed. Those of brass alone remained." The
indignant historian adds that he was wrong. The virtue of sovereigns
alone preserves their images: the brazen statue of Julian was broken to
pieces at his death. Mai. Fragm. Vatican. p. 226.--M.]

[Footnote 14: Dion, l. lxxiii. p. 1235. Hist. August. p. 61. I have
endeavored to blend into one consistent story the seeming contradictions
of the two writers. * Note: The contradiction as M. Guizot observed, is
irreconcilable. He quotes both passages: in one Julianus is represented
as a miser, in the other as a voluptuary. In the one he refuses to eat
till the body of Pertinax has been buried; in the other he gluts himself
with every luxury almost in the sight of his headless remains.--M.]

He had reason to tremble. On the throne of the world he found himself
without a friend, and even without an adherent. The guards themselves
were ashamed of the prince whom their avarice had persuaded them to
accept; nor was there a citizen who did not consider his elevation
with horror, as the last insult on the Roman name. The nobility, whose
conspicuous station, and ample possessions, exacted the strictest
caution, dissembled their sentiments, and met the affected civility of
the emperor with smiles of complacency and professions of duty. But the
people, secure in their numbers and obscurity, gave a free vent to their
passions. The streets and public places of Rome resounded with clamors
and imprecations. The enraged multitude affronted the person of Julian,
rejected his liberality, and, conscious of the impotence of their own
resentment, they called alo