"Eyes closed by purple death and puissant Destiny...."
And nevertheless Constantius was welcoming him:
"Recepisti primævus originis tuæ splendidum florem, amatissime mihi omnium frater." (Still young, you have attained already the flower of your royal birth, most beloved of all my brothers!)
An enthusiastic roar rose from the legions. Constantius became rather gloomy; that shout had slightly exceeded the proper bounds. Julian must have pleased the soldiers.
"Glory and prosperity to Cæsar Julian!" They cheered louder and louder, till it seemed as if they would never cease.
The new Cæsar thanked the legionaries with a kindly smile, and every soldier clashed his buckler against his knee as a sign of rejoicing.
It seemed to Julian that it was not by the will of the Emperor, but by the will of the gods, that he had reached this eminence.
Every evening Constantius was in the habit of consecrating a quarter of an hour to the polishing of his nails. It was one of the few toilet delicacies that he permitted himself, being sober, unimaginative, and rather gross than effeminate in all his habits. Paring his nails with little files, polishing them with minute brushes, he gaily asked his favourite eunuch, the grand chamberlain Eusebius, on the evening of the day of investiture—
"How soon do you think will Julian conquer the Gauls?"