of triumphant
Christianity, shows us a glorious renewal of the arts and sciences
of antiquity; finally, the beginning of the 18th century, the reign
of Peter the Great, who tried to make a place for the gods of
antiquity in Russia, where they were regarded with horror by the
orthodox clergy.

* * * * *

In his novel, "The Death of the Gods," Merezhkovsky has painted the
first of these epochs, the different phases of which revolve about
the principal hero, the emperor Julian the Apostate. In "The
Resurrection of the Gods" he develops, in sumptuous frescoes, the
age of the Renaissance, personified by Leonardo da Vinci, who best
typifies the character and tendencies of that time. In "Peter and
Alexis," he retraces Russian life in the beginning of the 18th
century, when it was dominated by the extraordinary character of
Peter the Great.

Julian the Apostate was one of the last idolaters of expiring
paganism. But he could do nothing against the infatuation of the
masses who were embracing the new religion, and it was in vain that
he employed both so much kindness and so much violence in order to
suppress Christianity. The reign of the gods was irrevocably ended.
His soul filled with rage when he saw that he was powerless to
change the course of events. He ended by undertaking a foolhardy
expedition into Persia, thinking that that was the only way in which
to defeat Christ, triumph over the "cursed" religion, and bring
back victoriously the altars of the dead gods. But the Olympians on
whom he had counted were of no service to him. According to the
Christian legend, it was then, at the moment of death, that he cried
out: "Galilean, thou hast conquered!" They say that he added: "Let
the Galileans conquer, for the victory will be ours, ... later. The
gods will come back ... we shall all be gods."

This scene is one of the finest in the book. Surrounded by some
faithful friends, Julian speaks, with his last breath, the words
which one of these friends, the historian Ammianus Marcellinus, has
recorded.

"His voice was low but clear. His whole presence breathed forth
intellectual triumph, and from his eyes there still gleamed
invincible will. Ammianus's hand trembled as he wrote. But he knew
that he was writing on the tables of history, and transmitting to
future generations the words of a great emperor:

"'Listen, friends; my hour is come, perhaps too soon. But you see
that I, like an hone