o issue.

"'It is due to my Cabinet that you should be the first to hear and know
of it, and if any of you have any suggestions to make as to the form of
this paper or its composition, I shall be glad to hear them. But the
paper is to issue.'

"And, to my astonishment, he read the Emancipation Proclamation of that
date, which was to take effect the first of January following."

Secretary Stanton continued: "I have always tried to be calm, but I
think I lost my calmness for a moment, and with great enthusiasm I
arose, approached the President, extended my hand and said:

"'Mr. President, if the reading of chapters of "Artemus Ward" is a
prelude to such a deed as this, the book should be filed among the
archives of the nation, and the author should be canonized. Henceforth I
see the light and the country is saved.'

"And all said 'Amen!'

"And Lincoln said to me in a droll way, just as I was leaving, 'Stanton,
it would have been too early last Spring.'

"And as I look back upon it, I think the President was right."

It was a fitting fulfillment of the Declaration of Independence, which
proclaimed that:

"All men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with
certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty and the
pursuit of happiness."

That Declaration young Abe Lincoln first read in the Gentryville
constable's copy of the "Statutes of Indiana."

At noon on the first of January, 1863, William H. Seward, Secretary of
State, with his son Frederick, called at the White House with the
Emancipation document to be signed by the President. It was just after
the regular New Year's Day reception.

Mr. Lincoln seated himself at his table, took up the pen, dipped it in
the ink, held the pen a moment, then laid it down. After waiting a while
he went through the same movements as before. Turning to his Secretary
of State, he said, to explain his hesitation:

"I have been shaking hands since nine o'clock this morning, and my arm
is almost paralyzed. If my name ever goes into history, it will be for
this act, and my whole soul is in it. If my hand trembles when I sign
the Proclamation, all who examine the document hereafter will say:

"'He hesitated.'"

Turning back to the table, he took the pen again and wrote, deliberately
and firmly, the "Abraham Lincoln" with which the world is now familiar.
Looking up at the Sewards, father and son, he smiled and said, with a
sigh of relief:

"_T