t on this occasion the
injury was aggravated by the insult, and the sense of private interest
was quickened by that of national honor. The conquest of Macedonia, as
we have already observed, had delivered the Roman people from the weight
of personal taxes. Though they had experienced every form of despotism,
they had now enjoyed that exemption near five hundred years; nor could
they patiently brook the insolence of an Illyrian peasant, who, from his
distant residence in Asia, presumed to number Rome among the tributary
cities of his empire. The rising fury of the people was encouraged by
the authority, or at least the connivance, of the senate; and the feeble
remains of the Praetorian guards, who had reason to apprehend their
own dissolution, embraced so honorable a pretence, and declared their
readiness to draw their swords in the service of their oppressed
country. It was the wish, and it soon became the hope, of every citizen,
that after expelling from Italy their foreign tyrants, they should
elect a prince who, by the place of his residence, and by his maxims
of government, might once more deserve the title of Roman emperor. The
name, as well as the situation, of Maxentius determined in his favor the
popular enthusiasm.

Maxentius was the son of the emperor Maximian, and he had married the
daughter of Galerius. His birth and alliance seemed to offer him
the fairest promise of succeeding to the empire; but his vices and
incapacity procured him the same exclusion from the dignity of Caesar,
which Constantine had deserved by a dangerous superiority of merit. The
policy of Galerius preferred such associates as would never disgrace
the choice, nor dispute the commands, of their benefactor. An obscure
stranger was therefore raised to the throne of Italy, and the son of
the late emperor of the West was left to enjoy the luxury of a private
fortune in a villa a few miles distant from the capital. The gloomy
passions of his soul, shame, vexation, and rage, were inflamed by envy
on the news of Constantine's success; but the hopes of Maxentius revived
with the public discontent, and he was easily persuaded to unite his
personal injury and pretensions with the cause of the Roman people.
Two Praetorian tribunes and a commissary of provisions undertook the
management of the conspiracy; and as every order of men was actuated by
the same spirit, the immediate event was neither doubtful nor difficult.
The praefect of the city, and a