Thus he died. At midnight, the spirit of Julian the apostate ascended to the judgment-seat of Christ. This sad record suggests a few obvious thoughts, to which we cannot refrain from directing the attention of our readers:—
1. The experience of eighteen centuries seems to prove thatthe final triumph of Christianity is certain. Every weapon raised against Christianity has failed. Argument has exhausted its most profound efforts. Persecution has in vain expended all its energies of torture, dungeons, flames, and death. Though there are men now who hate the religion of Jesus, who oppose it in every possible way,—some by direct hostility, and some by neglect,—still Christianity was never before so potent as now. Never before has it exerted so controlling an influence over the hearts and lives of men. Its power has steadily increased with the lapsing centuries.
2. It is obvious that the triumph of Christianity will not be a triumph in which all the enemies of Christianity will become its friends: its persistent enemies will perish. Satan may never be converted; but he will be held in chains. Julian died hurling defiance at Jesus Christ: he may forever remain thus obdurate; but he will never again have it in his power to persecute the Christians. Julian is immortal: he is as free now to love or hate as he was fourteen centuries ago. God never robs his intelligent creatures of the freedom of the will. But those who remain unrelenting can never be permitted to mar, by their malice, the joys of heaven.
3. There are in this world, probably in the wide universe of God, but two parties,—those who are the friends of Christ, and those who are not his friends. To this solemn truth we must ever come.“He that is not with me is against me,”[185] says Christ. One’s love for Christ may not be fully developed; one’s rejection of Christ may exist in a latent state: but the germs of love or rejection are in every soul; every one is in heart either with Constantine or Julian.
4. Death is to all alike the same sublime event. There is something awful in the death of Julian. The tumult and the uproar of the battle rage around him; the blood gushes from his lacerated veins. But death itself is an event so sublime, that all its surroundings are of but little moment. It is the one thing, the one only thing, of which every person is sure. No matter when, where, or how, death comes: to leave this worldforever; to go to the judgment-seat of Christ; to hear the sentence, “Welcome, ye blessed!” or “Depart, ye cursed!” and then to enter upon eternity, a happy spirit in heaven, or a lost spirit in hell,—this is an event so transcendently sublime, that its accidental accompaniments are scarcely worthy of a thought.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS OF JULIAN.
Anecdote.—Accession of Jovian.—His Character.—Christianity reinstated.—Death of Jovian.—Recall of Athanasius.—Wide Condemnation of Arianism.—Heroism of Jovian.—Valentinian and Valens.—Valentinian enthroned.—Valens in the East.—Barbarian Irruptions.—Reign of Theodosius.—Aspect of the Barbarians.—Rome captured by Alaric.—Character of Alaric.—His Death and Burial.—Remarkable Statement of Adolphus.—Attila the Hun.—Valentinian III.—Acadius.—Eloquence of Chrysostom.—His Banishment and Death.—Rise of Monasticism.
N reference to the death of Julian, an anecdote is related which has been deemed sufficiently authentic to be quoted in most ecclesiastical histories. At the very hour when Julian was dying in Mesopotamia, a pagan scorner, a thousand miles distant, in Antioch, banteringly inquired of a Christian, alluding to Jesus Christ, “What do you think the carpenter’s son is doing now?”