In contrast to the humour of Lucian and Apuleius, we may place that of the Emperor Julian, an ascetic and devotee, who was nephew of Constantine the Great, and brought up a Christian. Julian’s early life was spent in terror, for Constantius, Constantine’s son, imprisoned him at Milan, after having put his elder brother to death. Perhaps this treatment at the hands of a Christian may have prejudiced him against the new religion, or his mild disposition may have been scandalized at the fierceness of theological controversies, or at the lives of many of the converts. His early education and experiences of life were more inclined to imbue him with principles of toleration than to make him a zealous Christian, and, finally, when he arrived at the age of twenty, he determined to return back into Paganism. This retrograde movement, not altogether out of keeping with his quaint character and love of antiquity, has stamped him with the opprobrious title of the “Apostate,” but in moral excellence he was superior to the age in which he lived. Many of his writings show a sense of humour, such as that he wrote in Lutetia (Paris) on “Barley wine” the drink of the Gauls.
“Who and whence art thou, Dionyse?
for, by true Bacchus
I know thee not, but Jove’s
great son alone,
He smells of nectar, thou of goats,
truly the Celts
For want of grapes made thee of
ears of corn;
Wherefore thou shouldst be Cereal
called, not Bacchus,
Pyrogenes and Bromos, not Bromion."[27]
Julian’s principal work is on the Caesars. He commences it by saying that he is not addicted to jesting, but he will relate a sort of fable in which all the gods and Caesars are called to a great banquet. Accordingly, he introduces various characters. Julius Caesar seems in his pride to wish to dispute the throne even with Jupiter. Augustus he compares to a chameleon, sometimes one colour, sometimes another; one moment a visage full of sorrow, another smiling.
Tiberius has a fierce countenance, and shows the marks of intemperance and debauchery. “Take care he does not pull your ear,” says Bacchus, “for thus he treated a grammarian.” “He had better,” returned Silenus, “bemoan himself in his solitary island, and tear the face of some miserable fisherman."[28]


