In his second annual message to Congress, transmitted to that body in December, 1862, Lincoln touched, in conclusion, upon the great subject of Emancipation, in these words of deep import: 

I do not forget the gravity which should characterize a paper addressed to the Congress of the nation by the Chief Magistrate of the nation.  Nor do I forget that some of you are my seniors, nor that many of you have more experience than I in the conduct of public affairs.  Yet I trust that in view of the great responsibility resting upon me, you will perceive no want of respect to yourselves in any undue earnestness I may seem to display....  The dogmas of the quiet past are inadequate to the stormy present.  The occasion is piled high with difficulty, and we must rise with the occasion.  As our case is new, so we must think anew and act anew.

Fellow citizens, we cannot escape history.  We of this Congress and this administration will be remembered in spite of ourselves.  No personal significance, or insignificance, can spare one or another of us.  The fiery trial through which we pass will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation.  We say we are for the Union.  The world will not forget that we say this.  We know how to save the Union.  The world knows we do know how to save it.  We—­even we here—­hold the power and bear the responsibility.  In giving freedom to the slave we assure freedom to the free—­honorable alike in what we give and what we preserve.  We shall nobly save, or meanly lose, the last best hope of earth.  Other means may succeed, this could not fail.  The way is plain, peaceful, generous, just—­a way which, if followed, the world will forever applaud, and God must forever bless.

An immense concourse attended the reception at the White House on the first day of 1863, and the President stood for several hours shaking hands with the endless train of men and women who pressed forward to greet him.  The exhausting ceremonial being ended, the proclamation which finally and forever abrogated the institution of slavery in the United States was handed to him for his signature.  “Mr. Seward,” remarked the President, “I have been shaking hands all day, and my right hand is almost paralyzed.  If my name ever gets into history, it will be for this act, and my whole soul is in it.  If my hand trembles when I sign the proclamation, those who examine the document hereafter will say I hesitated.”  Then, resting his arm a moment, he turned to the table, took up the pen, and slowly and firmly wrote, ABRAHAM LINCOLN.  He smiled as, handing the paper to Mr. Seward, he said, “That will do.”  A few hours after, he remarked:  “The signature looks a little tremulous, for my hand was tired; but my resolution was firm.  I told them in September that if they did not return to their allegiance I would strike at this pillar of their strength.  And now the promise shall be kept, and not one word of it will I ever recall.”