The army had passed by Tarsus, the birthplace of Paul, where the remains of Julian were consigned to the tomb, and had reached the village of Dadastane, on the confines of Galatia and Bithynia, when Jovian died, in the night of the 17th of February, 364, within about three hundred miles of Constantinople. He was found one morning dead in his bed; having been accidentally stifled, it is supposed, by the fumes of charcoal in his apartment. His broken-hearted wife, who was hastening to greet her husband, met his remains on the road. With the anguish and tears of widowhood, bitter then as now, she accompanied them to the tomb in Constantinople. He was but thirty-three years of age, and had reigned but eight months. The main body of the army, being a little in advance, had then reached Nice, the capital of Bithynia. As soon as the soldiers heard of the death of Jovian, they unanimously elected Valentinian, who was captain of the imperial guard, his successor. Valentinian was also a Christian. The following anecdote illustrates the nobility of his character:―― It was the custom of Julian on special occasions to distribute gifts to those who had merited them. The apostate emperor, who would stoop to every kind of trickery to lure the soldiers, even unconsciously, to pay homage to the idol gods, on one of these occasions, when about to bestow rewards, had an altar erected before him, upon which were placed glowing coals. By the side of the altar stood a table covered with frankincense. As a part of the ceremony, each one who was to receive an imperial gift was to sprinkle a little of the incense upon the coals, from which a fragrant cloud would gracefully arise. It was a stratagem to lead the Christians to offer incense to the gods, without being conscious that they were doing so. Julian thus endeavored to entrap three of his leading Christian generals,――Jovian (who became his successor), Valentinian, and Valens. After burning the frankincense, and receiving the imperial gift, Valentinian returned to his tent. As he sat down to partake of some refreshments, he, according to his custom, asked a blessing in the name of Jesus Christ. A pagan companion, observing this, exclaimed, with real or affected astonishment,―― “How is this? Do you invoke the name of Christ after having publicly renounced him?” “What do you mean?” inquired Valentinian, alarmed and surprised. “I mean,” was the reply, “that you have just offered incense to the gods upon one of their altars.” Valentinian immediately rose, and, hastening to the presence of the emperor, laid down at his feet the precious gifts he had received, saying,―― “Sire, I am a Christian. I wish all the world to know it. I have not intentionally renounced my Saviour, Jesus Christ. If my hand has erred, my heart has not followed it: the emperor has deceived me. I renounce the act of impiety, and am ready to make expiation with my blood.”