great philosophers of the past.
They were all trying to say the same ineffable thing; all lifting
mankind towards the knowledge of God. I say 'almost' in both cases; for
the Christians are outside the pale in one domain and the Epicureans and
a few Cynics in the other. Both had committed the cardinal sin; they had
denied the gods. They are sometimes lumped together as _Atheoi_.
_L'atheisme, voila l'ennemi._

This may surprise us at first sight, but the explanation is easy. To
Julian the one great truth that matters is the presence and glory of the
gods. No doubt, they are all ultimately one: they are +dynameis+,
'forces,' not persons, but for reasons above our comprehension they are
manifest only under conditions of form, time, and personality, and have
so been revealed and worshipped and partly known by the great minds of
the past. In Julian's mind the religious emotion itself becomes the
thing to live for. Every object that has been touched by that emotion is
thereby glorified and made sacred. Every shrine where men have
worshipped in truth of heart is thereby a house of God. The worship may
be mixed up with all sorts of folly, all sorts of unedifying practice.
Such things must be purged away, or, still better, must be properly
understood. For to the pure all things are pure: and the myths that
shock the vulgar are noble allegories to the wise and reverent. Purge
religion from dross, if you like; but remember that you do so at your
peril. One false step, one self-confident rejection of a thing which is
merely too high for you to grasp, and you are darkening the Sun, casting
God out of the world. And that was just what the Christians deliberately
did. In many of the early Christian writings denial is a much greater
element than assertion. The beautiful _Octavius_ of Minucius Felix
(about A. D. 130-60) is an example. Such denial was, of course, to our
judgement, eminently needed, and rendered a great service to the world.
But to Julian it seemed impiety. In other Christian writings the
misrepresentation of pagan rites and beliefs is decidedly foul-mouthed
and malicious. Quite apart from his personal wrongs and his contempt for
the character of Constantius, Julian could have no sympathy for men who
overturned altars and heaped blasphemy on old deserted shrines, defilers
of every sacred object that was not protected by popularity. The most
that such people could expect from him was that they should not be
proscribed by l