Intaglios are cut into the surface of stone using a lathe, diamond powder and metal tools. The practice of gem engraving has a long history, first carried out in Egypt and ancient Mesopotamia. In the eighteenth century, the ancient techniques were revived, partly to meet the demand for ancient gems amongst scholars and collectors. Sometimes ancient examples were copied exactly, either with the intent to deceive, or in homage to the original. Collected for centuries, these engraved gems are remarkable for their miniature scale and intricate workmanship.
This magnificent agate intaglio depicts the Roman Emperor Julian, Julian was a younger son of Julius Constantius, the half brother of Constantine I (the Great), and his second wife, Basilina. In 337, when Julian was five, his cousin (the third son of Constantine I), also called Constantius, became emperor in the East as Constantius II and in 350, with the death of his brother Constans I, sole legitimate emperor (though there were two usurpers who were not overthrown until 353). The army, determined to have none but Constantine I’s sons as his successors, murdered the other possible aspirants. Constantius II had had Julian’s father killed in or just after 337, and an elder brother of Julian was killed in 341. Basilina had died soon after the birth of Julian, who was thus early left an orphan. With his surviving half brother, Gallus, seven years his senior, he was brought up in obscurity, first by Eusebius, Arian bishop of Nicomedia in Bithynia, and later at the remote estate of Macellum in Cappadocia. By the patronage of Eusebia, wife of Constantius II, Julian, at age 19, was allowed to continue his education, first at Como and later in Greece. In 351 he converted to the pagan Neoplatonism, recently “reformed” by Iamblichus, and was initiated into theurgy by Maximus of Ephesus. His physical appearance is described thus by his contemporary and comrade-in-arms, Ammianus Marcellinus: He was of medium stature, his hair was soft, as if it had been combed, his beard rough and pointed. His eyes were fine and flashing, an indication of the nimbleness of his mind. He had handsome eyebrows, a straight nose, rather a large mouth with a drooping lower lip. His neck was thick and slightly bent, his shoulders broad and big. From top to toe he was well-knit, and so was strong and a good runner. His statue in the Louvre generally confirms this description, showing him as a stocky, rather diffident-looking philosopher. Julian’s freedom as a student had a powerful influence on him and ensured that for the first time in a century the future emperor would be a man of culture. He studied at Pergamum, at Ephesus, and later at Athens. He adopted the cult of the Unconquered Sun. That his literary talent was considerable is demonstrated in his surviving works, most of which illustrate his deep love of Hellenic culture. Julian had been baptized and raised as a Christian, but, although he outwardly conformed until he was supreme, Christianity in its official guise meant to him the religion of those who had murdered his father, his brother, and many of his relations and, as such, was hardly likely to commend itself to him. He found far more solace in his philosophic speculations. This reaction has sometimes been defended as natural but eccentric. Natural it certainly was, but it is a misinterpretation of the age to imagine that Julian was alone in preferring Hellenism to Christianity. Society, and particularly the educated society in which Julian was at home, was in fact still largely if not predominantly pagan. Even bishops were proud of their Greek culture; no one was proud of the exotic degeneracy and extravagance of the court of Constantius. It is not surprising that Julian’s austerity, chastity, and enthusiasm for the heritage of Greece found a sympathetic response among many of his cousin’s subjects.