vered, a taste for the most innocent as well as natural pleasures,
and his leisure hours were sufficiently employed in building, planting,
and gardening. His answer to Maximian is deservedly celebrated. He was
solicited by that restless old man to reassume the reins of government,
and the Imperial purple. He rejected the temptation with a smile of
pity, calmly observing, that if he could show Maximian the cabbages
which he had planted with his own hands at Salona, he should no longer
be urged to relinquish the enjoyment of happiness for the pursuit
of power. In his conversations with his friends, he frequently
acknowledged, that of all arts, the most difficult was the art of
reigning; and he expressed himself on that favorite topic with a degree
of warmth which could be the result only of experience. "How often," was
he accustomed to say, "is it the interest of four or five ministers to
combine together to deceive their sovereign! Secluded from mankind by
his exalted dignity, the truth is concealed from his knowledge; he can
see only with their eyes, he hears nothing but their misrepresentations.
He confers the most important offices upon vice and weakness, and
disgraces the most virtuous and deserving among his subjects. By such
infamous arts," added Diocletian, "the best and wisest princes are
sold to the venal corruption of their courtiers." A just estimate of
greatness, and the assurance of immortal fame, improve our relish
for the pleasures of retirement; but the Roman emperor had filled too
important a character in the world, to enjoy without alloy the comforts
and security of a private condition. It was impossible that he could
remain ignorant of the troubles which afflicted the empire after his
abdication. It was impossible that he could be indifferent to their
consequences. Fear, sorrow, and discontent, sometimes pursued him into
the solitude of Salona. His tenderness, or at least his pride, was
deeply wounded by the misfortunes of his wife and daughter; and the last
moments of Diocletian were imbittered by some affronts, which Licinius
and Constantine might have spared the father of so many emperors,
and the first author of their own fortune. A report, though of a very
doubtful nature, has reached our times, that he prudently withdrew
himself from their power by a voluntary death.

Before we dismiss the consideration of the life and character of
Diocletian, we may, for a moment, direct our view to the place of