It turned out in the long run that Lincoln’s credit and the popular confidence that supported it were as valuable both to his creditors and himself as if the sums which stood over his signature had been gold coin in a solvent bank.  But this transmutation was not attained until he had passed through a very furnace of financial embarrassment.  Berry proved a worthless partner, and the business a sorry failure.  Seeing this, Lincoln and Berry sold out again on credit—­to the Trent brothers, who soon broke up and ran away.  Berry also departed and died, and finally all the notes came back upon Lincoln for payment.  He was unable to meet these obligations, but he did the next best thing.  He remained, promised to pay when he could, and most of his creditors, maintaining their confidence in his integrity, patiently bided their time, till, in the course of long years, he fully justified it by paying, with interest every cent of what he learned to call, in humorous satire upon his own folly, the “national debt.”

With one of them he was not so fortunate.  Van Bergen, who bought one of the Lincoln-Berry notes, obtained judgment, and, by peremptory sale, swept away the horse, saddle, and surveying instruments with the daily use of which Lincoln “procured bread and kept body and soul together,” to use his own words.  But here again Lincoln’s recognized honesty was his safety.  Out of personal friendship, James Short bought the property and restored it to the young surveyor, giving him time to repay.  It was not until his return from Congress, seventeen years after the purchase of the store, that he finally relieved himself of the last instalments of his “national debt.”  But by these seventeen years of sober industry, rigid economy, and unflinching faith to his obligations he earned the title of “Honest old Abe,” which proved of greater service to himself and his country than if he had gained the wealth of Croesus.

Out of this ill-starred commercial speculation, however, Lincoln derived one incidental benefit, and it may be said it became the determining factor in his career.  It is evident from his own language that he underwent a severe mental struggle in deciding whether he would become a blacksmith or a lawyer.  In taking a middle course, and trying to become a merchant, he probably kept the latter choice strongly in view.  It seems well established by local tradition that during the period while the Lincoln-Berry store was running its fore-doomed course from bad to worse, Lincoln employed all the time he could spare from his customers (and he probably had many leisure hours) in reading and study of various kinds.  This habit was greatly stimulated and assisted by his being appointed, May 7, 1833, postmaster at New Salem, which office he continued to hold until May 30, 1836, when New Salem partially disappeared and the office was removed to Petersburg.  The influences which brought about the selection of Lincoln are not recorded, but it is