the Arian heresy, which the Emperor himself so greatly favours?—And then the whole ragged rabble of the Empire, who rage against the temples, who massacre heathens and the children of heathens! Is it for Christ's sake? Ha ha! see how they fall to fighting among themselves for the spoils of the slain.—Ask Makrina if Christendom is to be sought in the wilderness,—on the pillar where the stylite-saint stands on one leg? Or is it in the cities? Perhaps among those bakers in Constantinople who lately took to their fists to decide whether the Trinity consists of three individuals or of three hypostases!—Which of all these would Christ acknowledge if he came down to earth again?—Out with your Diogenes-lantern, Basil! Enlighten this pitchy darkness.—Where is Christendom?
Basil.
Seek the answer where it is ever to be found in evil days.
Julian.
Hold me not aloof from the well of your wisdom! Slake my thirst, if you can. Where shall I seek and find?
Basil.
In the writings of holy men.
Julian.
The same despairing answer. Books,—always books! When I came to Libanius, it was: books, books! I come to you,—books, books, books! Stones for bread! I cannot live on books;—it is life I hunger for,—face-to-face communion with
