"It has got to be," he told a friend afterwards. "We had played our last card and must change our tactics or lose the game; and 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." On July 22, 1862, he read to his Cabinet the first draft of a proclamation, not for the purpose of asking their advice, he told them, but for their information. But every man was pledged to confidence, and the secret was so well kept that the public had no suspicion of his intention, and the radical newspapers and abolitionists continued to criticise and attack him in a most abusive manner. A committee of clergymen from Chicago came to Washington to urge him to issue an emancipation proclamation. He received them respectfully, but did not tell them that their wishes would have been anticipated but for the defeat of the Union army at the second battle of Bull Run. He made them an eloquent but evasive speech, and appealed to their good sense. "Now, gentlemen," he said, "if I cannot enforce the Constitution down South, how can I enforce a mere Presidential proclamation? I do not want to issue a document that the whole world will see must necessarily be inoperative like the Pope's Bull against the comet." Mr. Colfax, who accompanied the delegation, says that "one of these ministers felt it his duty to make a more searching appeal to the President's conscience. Just as they were retiring, he turned and said to Mr. Lincoln,-- "'What you have said to us, Mr. President, compels me to say, in reply, that it is a message to you from our Divine Master, through me, commanding you, sir, to open the doors of bondage that the slave may go free!' "Mr. Lincoln replied instantly, 'That may be, sir, for I have studied this question by night and by day for weeks and for months; but if it is, as you say, a message from your Divine Master, is it not odd that the only channel he could send it by was that roundabout route by that awfully wicked city of Chicago?' "In discussing the question, he used to liken the case to that of the boy who, when asked how many legs his calf would have if he called his tail a leg, replied, 'Five.' To which the prompt response was made that _calling_ the tail a leg would not _make_ it a leg. "He sought to measure so accurately, so precisely, the public sentiment that, whenever he advanced, the loyal hosts of the nation would keep step with him. In regard to the policy of arming the slaves against the Rebellion, never, until the tide of patriotic volunteering had ebbed and our soldiers saw their ranks rapidly melting away, could our colored troops have been added to their brigades without perilous discontent, if not open revolt. Against all appeals, all demands, against even threats of some members of his party, Lincoln stood like a rock on this question until he felt that the opportune moment had arrived."