The forces on the two sides were nearly equal; but on the Republican side, that is, on the part of Brutus and Cassius, there was great inconvenience and suffering for want of a sufficient supply of provisions and stores.  There was some difference of opinion between Brutus and Cassius in respect to what it was best for them to do.  Brutus was inclined to give the enemy battle.  Cassius was reluctant to do so, since, under the circumstances in which they were placed, he considered it unwise to hazard, as they necessarily must do, the whole success of their cause to the chances of a single battle.  A council of war was convened, and the various officers were asked to give their opinions.  In this conference, one of the officers having recommended to postpone the conflict to the next winter, Brutus asked him what advantage he hoped to attain by such delay.  “If I gain nothing else,” replied the officer, “I shall live so much the longer.”  This answer touched Cassius’s pride and military sense of honor.  Rather than concur in a counsel which was thus, on the part of one of its advocates at least, dictated by what he considered an inglorious love of life, he preferred to retract his opinion.  It was agreed by the council that the army should maintain its ground and give the enemy battle.  The officers then repaired to their respective camps.

Brutus was greatly pleased at this decision.  To fight the battle had been his original desire, and as his counsels had prevailed, he was, of course, gratified with the prospect for the morrow.  He arranged a sumptuous entertainment in his tent, and invited all the officers of his division of the army to sup with him.  The party spent the night in convivial pleasures, and in mutual congratulations at the prospect of the victory which, as they believed, awaited them on the morrow.  Brutus entertained his guests with brilliant conversation all the evening, and inspired them with his own confident anticipations of success in the conflict which was to ensue.

Cassius, on the other hand, in his camp by the sea, was silent and desponding.  He supped privately with a few intimate friends.  On rising from the table, he took one of his officers aside, and, pressing his hand, said to him that he felt great misgivings in respect to the result of the contest.  “It is against my judgment,” said he, “that we thus hazard the liberty of Rome on the event of one battle, fought under such circumstances as these.  Whatever is the result, I wish you to bear me witness hereafter that I was forced into this measure by circumstances that I could not control.  I suppose, however, that I ought to take courage, notwithstanding the reasons that I have for these gloomy forebodings.  Let us, therefore, hope for the best; and come and sup with me again to-morrow night.  To-morrow is my birth-day.”