of the Senate; we are justified in concluding from this unanimity that the facts were absolutely plain and notorious and that there were not two opinions as to the guilt of the accused. Thus Cicero's first object was fully attained; the conspirators in the city, whose machinations had hitherto been hidden from the public, were now caught in a flagrant act rebellion, and an act which had conspicuously failed. In presence of their egregious folly Cicero may well have exulted that Catiline was no longer at hand to be their guide, and it is not surprising that he should have been tempted to magnify the sagacity of the leader whom they had lost in comparison with the eptitude of those who remained behind. "Catiline," he exclaims, "would never have fixed for our information the season of the Saturnalia, or announced so long beforehand the day of doom and destruction for the commonwealth; he would never have been so simple as to allow me to lay hands on his own seal, his own letters, or the eye-witnesses of his guilt." "When I drove him from the city, Romans, I had this in my mind that, Catiline once away, I had no reason to fear the sleepy Lentulus or the bloated Cassius or the raving maniac Cethegus."[1]
The conflict was not yet over, but a first great success had been scored, and Cicero was fully justified in addressing his fellow-citizens in a tone of triumph and confidence;[2] "Night is now upon us; so do you, Romans, offer your thanks to that Jupiter who watches over the city and over you, and then return
