JULIAN THE APOSTATE

Some sixteen hundred years ago, the people of a proscribed sect were exalted by the announcement of a conversion. An imperial proselyte had been found, and the battle for existence under which the religion had flourished could now become a peace of propaganda. Such, doubtless, was the fond dream of many an ardent bishop, who had not yet felt the canker of ecclesiastical schism within his bosom, as he meditated on that fair day when the Pagan Constantine announced himself a Christian. Constantine's conversion was a triumph of Christianity and of an unscrupulous personal ambition.

Three Christian sons divided a vast empire, and held a butchery of imperial possibilities. Then, with minds more at ease, they dispersed to the ends and centre of the enlightened earth. Their thrones were secure; for only two small children, brothers, cousins to the imperial three, had been spared from the massacre at Constantinople.

But within those three royal breasts the applause of Christ was far more prominent than his emulation. Two brothers clashed and one was slain in an ambush-that left two brothers. One brother, whose life was necessary to the other, because of the magnitude of the Empire, was slaughtered by a German usurper -that left one brother. Yet the Furies-which appeared on earth for many centuries in the shapes of the royal eunuchswere athirst. The last brother lived miserably, a coward who shone in censored reports, and desolately he died. His death completed the tale of the first four Christian rulers of an empire truly purple-purple every foot of it with a purple deeper than the dye of the Phoenician murex.

The Great Emperor-the last of three brothers-was smitten maybe by a qualm of conscience, or he needed a reed to lean upon; for he chose the brother of a hero, and called him "Cæsar.' The Brother and the Hero alone of a numerous family had escaped the massacre at Constantinople-which was already a great city.

When Julius Constantius fell at Constantinople, his son Julian

Oriental rabble. Hence the rabble laughed aloud-at NeoPlatonism. Therefore this involved philosophy of rationalism and metaphysics failed before on-rushing Christianity-failed through its empty vices and its out-of-date virtues, a Hellenism without a Hellas. For Christianity offered an historical Redeemer, a vigorous figure; and marshalled sentiment against cold reason, and spoke ecstatically of a glorious hereafter, and the EQUALITY OF MAN. Hence it appealed to the majority of those who yearned and by the vices of wealthy display that crept into the organization subsequent to the conversion of Constantine, it swept the rabble before it. Neo-Platonism was a matter of opinion-a philosophy open to whosoever would; Christianity was a matter of conviction-in it lay salvation and without awaited damnation (a belief developed fully by Theodosius)—and was propagated by an admirable hierarchy. In the end Chritianity absorbed the best of Neo-Platonic metaphysics - the public demanded mystery — and the system best suited to adoption was that of Origen, Hellenist or Semi-Arian. From myth-legend to saint-worship and the iconoclastic controversy was but a step.

No sooner did the Church feel herself to be secure from persecution and impending disaster than small cracks and hidden. chasms within the ranks widenened into mighty canyons, conversion of the Gentile was forgot, and Athanasius flew at the throat of Arius Agonistes. Arianism retained rational explanation-it strove to explain the First Cause--and Athanasius triumphed at Nicæa, in the year of his Lord 325. Mysticism was triumphant-mysticism akin to the fanaticism of the Sabellians in its explanation of the Trinity-but a slight bridge between the loftiest and the most material of the wrangling

sects.

And still they fought.

One emperor favored Orthodoxy, and the next favored Arianism, and the Empire split in its sympathies-which decrees could not change-and libel, and blasphemy were in the air and Christian blood was shed by Christian hands; and nowhere there was religious peace-in Europe, Asia, or Africa-save at the rustic shrine, where a Greek divinity was adored to the tinkle of

and humiliating his proud name, despite large tribute of silver from the Imperial Treasury.

The emperor could not lead an army against both, and would not lead an army at all, if he could avoid it. He trusted the Hero, Julian, "because he had more faith in the one who had the right to accuse him than in those whose duty it was to be grateful to him." Also the Great Empress showed her lord what she considered to be the Light of Reason.

Has any military leader's ambitions out-soared those of Julian-now soldier-fresh-snatched from the lecture-hall? We think not. Has any man been possessed of greater courage, and has any general ever gripped the hearts of his soldiers with a greater love? Assuredly, no. Napoleon was trained to fight, and so was Charles XII of Sweden, whose brief martial flame might be compared with that of Julian. But Julian was virtually reared in the cloister, yet was a very viking among men when the call to arms was sounded; and amidst the din of battle, this warrior remained priest, poet, and philosopher. His stars remained in the ascendant simultaneously.

The Hero went to the forests of the North carefully and jealously watched by a great emperor. And there he won to him a mercenary soldiery and a soldiery of corrupt legionaries by the humanity of his understanding and the simplicity of his manner. Also his courage and his firmness made him brother to the man with whom he toiled on foot and in the mire, with whom he ate of the meagerest fare, with whom he went hungry, and with whom he fought in the blood and sweat at the head of a column.

On a day in the winter of 355-356, the scholar-general galloped toward the forest of Gaul, escorted by three hundred and sixty legionaries. From the open rivers of the South he came, past the withered stubble of lower Peidmont, and on into the dark snow-clad sentinels, the forests of Roman Gaul. Roman Gaul indeed? And why "Roman"? For the Teutonic barbarians who mingled with the forest shadows across the Rhine continually gave the lie to that appellation. Headed by fierce chieftains, they crossed the great blue river and penetrated Gallia at will for many miles. The Roman bank from Strassburg