“Let the States which are in rebellion see definitely and certainly that in no event will the States you represent ever join their proposed confederacy, and they cannot much longer maintain the contest.  But you cannot divest them of their hope to ultimately have you with them so long as you show a determination to perpetuate the institution within your own States.  Beat them at elections, as you have overwhelmingly done, and, nothing daunted, they still claim you as their own.  You and I know what the lever of their power is.  Break that lever before their faces, and they can shake you no more forever....  If the war continues long, as it must if the object be not sooner attained, the institution in your States will be extinguished by mere friction and abrasion—­by the mere incidents of the war.  It will be gone, and you will have nothing valuable in lieu of it.  Much of its value is gone already.  How much better for you and for your people to take the step which at once shortens the war and secures substantial compensation for that which is sure to be wholly lost in any other event.  How much better to thus save the money which else we sink forever in the war....  Our common country is in great peril, demanding the loftiest views and boldest action to bring it speedy relief.  Once relieved, its form of government is saved to the world, its beloved history and cherished memories are vindicated, and its happy future fully assured and rendered inconceivably grand.  To you, more than to any others, the privilege is given to assure that happiness and swell that grandeur, and to link your own names therewith forever.”

Even while the delegations listened, Mr. Lincoln could see that events had not yet ripened their minds to the acceptance of his proposition.  In their written replies, submitted a few days afterward, two thirds of them united in a qualified refusal, which, while recognizing the President’s patriotism and reiterating their own loyalty, urged a number of rather unsubstantial excuses.  The minority replies promised to submit the proposal fairly to the people of their States, but could of course give no assurance that it would be welcomed by their constituents.  The interview itself only served to confirm the President in an alternative course of action upon which his mind had doubtless dwelt for a considerable time with intense solicitude, and which is best presented in the words of his own recital.

“It had got to be,” said he, in a conversation with the artist F.B.  Carpenter, “midsummer, 1862.  Things had gone on from bad to worse, until I felt that we had reached the end of our rope on the plan of operations we had been pursuing; that we had about played our last card, and must change our tactics, or lose the game.  I now determined upon the adoption of the emancipation policy; and, without consultation with, or the knowledge of, the cabinet, I prepared the original draft of the proclamation, and after much anxious thought called a cabinet meeting upon the subject....  All were present excepting Mr. Blair, the Postmaster-General, who was absent at the opening of the discussion, but came in subsequently.  I said to the cabinet that I had resolved upon this step, and had not called them together to ask their advice, but to lay the subject-matter of a proclamation before them, suggestions as to which would be in order after they had heard it read.”