e his glory beyond the reach of
fortune, and to relinquish the theatre of the world to his younger and
more active associates.

The ceremony of his abdication was performed in a spacious plain, about
three miles from Nicomedia. The emperor ascended a lofty throne, and in
a speech, full of reason and dignity, declared his intention, both to
the people and to the soldiers who were assembled on this extraordinary
occasion. As soon as he had divested himself of his purple, he withdrew
from the gazing multitude; and traversing the city in a covered chariot,
proceeded, without delay, to the favorite retirement which he had chosen
in his native country of Dalmatia. On the same day, which was the
first of May, Maximian, as it had been previously concerted, made his
resignation of the Imperial dignity at Milan. Even in the splendor of
the Roman triumph, Diocletian had meditated his design of abdicating the
government. As he wished to secure the obedience of Maximian, he exacted
from him either a general assurance that he would submit his actions to
the authority of his benefactor, or a particular promise that he would
descend from the throne, whenever he should receive the advice and the
example. This engagement, though it was confirmed by the solemnity of
an oath before the altar of the Capitoline Jupiter, would have proved a
feeble restraint on the fierce temper of Maximian, whose passion was the
love of power, and who neither desired present tranquility nor future
reputation. But he yielded, however reluctantly, to the ascendant which
his wiser colleague had acquired over him, and retired, immediately
after his abdication, to a villa in Lucania, where it was almost
impossible that such an impatient spirit could find any lasting
tranquility.

Diocletian, who, from a servile origin, had raised himself to the
throne, passed the nine last years of his life in a private condition.
Reason had dictated, and content seems to have accompanied, his retreat,
in which he enjoyed, for a long time, the respect of those princes to
whom he had resigned the possession of the world. It is seldom that
minds long exercised in business have formed the habits of conversing
with themselves, and in the loss of power they principally regret the
want of occupation. The amusements of letters and of devotion, which
afford so many resources in solitude, were incapable of fixing the
attention of Diocletian; but he had preserved, or at least he soon
reco