taining his conviction.
When he was gone one Saufeius, a friend of his, who had been with him
during the tumult, was put upon his trial for his share in the death of
Clodius. He at any rate was known to have been guilty in the matter. He
had been leader of the party who attacked the tavern, had killed the
tavern-keeper, and had dragged out Clodius to execution. But Saufeius
was twice acquitted. Had there been any hope of law-abiding tranquillity
in Rome, it might have been well that Clodius should be killed and Milo
banished. As it was, neither the death of the one nor the banishment of
the other could avail anything. The pity of it was--the pity--that such
a one as Cicero, a man with such intellect, such ambition, such
sympathies, and such patriotism, should have been brought to fight on
such an arena.

[Sidenote: B.C. 52, aetat. 55.]

We have in this story a graphic and most astounding picture of the Rome
of the day. No Consuls had been or could be elected, and the system by
which "interreges" had been enabled to superintend the election of their
successors in lieu of the Consuls of the expiring year had broken down.
Pompey had been made sole Consul in an informal manner, and had taken
upon himself all the authority of a Dictator in levying troops. Power in
Rome seems at the moment to have been shared between him and bands of
gladiators, but he too had succeeded in arming himself, and as the
Clodian faction was on his side, he was for a while supreme. For law by
this time he could have but little reverence, having been partner with
Caesar in the so-called Triumvirate for the last eight years. But yet he
had no aptitude for throwing the law altogether on one side, and making
such a coup-de-main as was now and again within his power. Beyond Pompey
there was at this time no power in Rome, except that of the gladiators,
and the owners of the gladiators, who were each intent on making plunder
out of the Empire. There were certain men, such as were Bibulus and
Cato, who considered themselves to be "optimates"--leading citizens who
believed in the Republic, and were no doubt anxious to maintain the
established order of things--as we may imagine the dukes and earls are
anxious in these days of ours. But they were impotent and bad men of
business, and as a body were too closely wedded to their "fish
ponds"--by which Cicero means their general luxuries and extravagances.
In the bosoms of these men there was no doubt an eager d