Before we can understand Julian's influence on the Arian controversy, we shall have to take a wider view of the Emperor himself and of his policy towards the Christians generally. The life of Julian is one of the noblest wrecks in history. The years of painful self-repression and forced dissimulation which turned his bright youth to bitterness and filled his mind with angry prejudice, had only consolidated his self-reliant pride and firm determination to walk worthily before the gods. In four years his splendid energy and unaffected kindliness had won all hearts in Gaul; and Julian related nothing of his sense of duty to the Empire when he found himself master of the world at the age of thirty.
But here came in that fatal heathen prejudice, which put him in a false relation to all the living powers of his time, and led directly even to his military disaster in Assyria. Heathen pride came to him with Basilina's Roman blood, and the dream-world of his lonely youth was a world of heathen literature. Christianity was nothing to him but 'the slavery of a Persian prison.' Fine preachers of the kingdom of heaven were those fawning eunuchs and episcopal sycophants, with Constantius behind them, the murderer of all his family! Every force about him worked for heathenism. The teaching of Mardonius was practically heathen, and the rest were as heathen as utter worldliness could make them. He could see through men like George the pork-contractor or the shameless renegade Hecebolius. Full of thoughts like these, which corroded his mind the more for the danger of expressing them, Julian was easily won to heathenism by the fatherly welcome of the philosophers at Nicomedia (351). Like a voice of love from heaven came their teaching, and Julian gave himself heart and soul to the mysterious fascination of their lying theurgy. Henceforth King Sun was his guardian deity, and Greece his Holy Land, and the philosopher's mantle dearer to him than the diadem of empire. For ten more years of painful dissimulation Julian 'walked with the gods' in secret, before the young lion of heathenism could openly throw off the 'donkey's skin' of Christianity.
Julian's reorganisation of heathenism.
Once master of the world, Julian could see its needs without using the eyes of the Asiatic camarilla. First of all, Christian domination must be put down. Not that he wanted to raise a savage persecution. Cruelty had been well tried before, and it would be a poor success to stamp out the 'Galilean' imposture without putting something better in its place. As the Christians 'had filled the world with their tombs' (Julian's word for churches), so must it be filled with the knowledge of the living gods. Sacrifices were encouraged and a pagan hierarchy set up to oppose the Christian. Heathen schools were to confront the Christian, and heathen almshouses were to grow up round them. Above all, the priests were to cultivate temperance and hospitality, and to devote themselves to grave and pious studies. Julian himself was a model of heathen purity, and spared no pains to infect his wondering subjects with his own enthusiasm for the cause of the immortal gods. Not a temple missed its visit, not a high place near his line of march was left unclimbed. As for his sacrifices, they were by the hecatomb. The very abjects called him Slaughterer.
His failure.
Never was a completer failure. Crowds of course applauded Cæsar, but only with the empty cheers they gave the jockeys or the preachers. Multitudes came to see an Emperors devotions, but they only quizzed his shaggy beard or tittered at the antiquated ceremonies. Sacrificial dinners kept the soldiers devout, and lavish bribery secured a good number of renegades—mostly waverers, who really had not much to change. Of the bishops, Pegasius of Ilium alone laid down his office for a priesthood; but he had always been a heathen at heart, and worshipped the gods even while he held his bishopric. The Christians upon the whole stood firm. Even the heathens were little moved. Julian's own teachers held cautiously aloof from his reforms; and if meaner men paused in their giddy round of pleasure, it was only to amuse themselves with the strange spectacle of imperial earnestness. Neither friends nor enemies seemed able to take him quite seriously.
Julian's policy against Christianity.
Passing over scattered cases of persecution encouraged or allowed by Julian, we may state generally that he aimed at degrading Christianity into a vulgar superstition, by breaking its connections with civilized government on one side, with liberal education on the other. One part of it was to deprive the 'Galileans' of state support and weed them out as far as might be from the public service, while still leaving them full freedom to quarrel amongst themselves; the other was to cut them off from literature by forbidding them to teach the classics. Homer and Hesiod were prophets of the gods, and must not be expounded by unbelievers. Matthew and Luke were good enough for barbarian ears like theirs. We need not pause to note the impolicy of an edict which Julian's own admirer Ammianus wishes 'buried in eternal silence.' Its effect on the Christians was very marked. Marius Victorinus, the favoured teacher of the Roman nobles, at once resigned his chair of rhetoric. The studies of his old age had brought him to confess his faith in Christ, and he would not now deny his Lord. Julian's own teacher Proæresius gave up his chair at Athens, refusing the special exemption which was offered him. It was not all loss for the Christians to be reminded that the gospel is revelation, not philosophy—life and not discussion. But Greek literature was far too weak to bear the burden of a sinking world, and its guardians could not have devised a more fatal plan than this of setting it in direct antagonism to the living power of Christianity. In our regret for the feud between Hellenic culture and the mediæval churches, we must not forget that it was Julian who drove in the wedge of separation.
Julian's toleration.
We can now sum up in a sentence. Every blow struck at Christianity by Julian fell first on the Arianizers whom Constantius had left in power, and the reaction he provoked against heathen learning directly threatened the philosophical postulates of Arianism within the church. In both ways he powerfully helped the Nicene cause. The Homœans could not stand without court support, and the Anomœans threw away their rhetoric on men who were beginning to see how little ground is really common to the gospel and philosophy. Yet he cared little for the party quarrels of the Christians. Instead of condescending to take a side, he told them contemptuously to keep the peace. His first step was to proclaim full toleration for all sorts and sects of men. It was only too easy to strike at the church by doing common justice to the sects. A few days later came an edict recalling the exiled bishops. Their property was restored, but they were not replaced in their churches. Others were commonly in possession, and it was no business of Julian's to turn them out. The Galileans might look after their own squabbles. This sounds fairly well, and suits his professions of toleration; but Julian had a malicious hope of still further embroiling the ecclesiastical confusion. If the Christians were only left to themselves, they might be trusted 'to quarrel like beasts.'