at least the enemy of his enemy.[1] Cicero feared likewise to compromise his brother's fortunes. Quintus had pledged himself for Cicero's good behaviour to Pompey, and Pompey had pledged himself to Cæsar.[2] Should these pledges go unredeemed? It was soon made dear to him that more was expected from him than a passive acquiescence in the supremacy of the triumvirs, and that his active support would be welcomed, and recompensed with ample protection from his enemies and with at least outward deference and consideration. Cicero had now, as frequently before, grave reason to resent Pompey's conduct; but after all it was Pompey more than any one else who had restored him from his exile, and he dreaded the reproach of ingratitude. His instincts of personal loyalty bound him to his old chief, and on the whole he resolved to abide by him, even though his adherence involved the acceptance of the mild but inexorable yoke of Cæsar.
It was not without many misgivings and much upbraiding from his own conscience, that he came to this conclusion. He expresses these feelings very frankly soon after in a letter to Atticus[3]: "What is more degraded than the life which we are living—I especially; for you, though you are a statesman by nature, yet have no bondage of your own to serve and have only your share in the national servitude. But I, who, if I speak as I ought, am reckoned for a
