VI. LIFE-MAKING DECISIONS
At the close of his unsuccessful canvass, in August of 1832, for the Illinois Assembly, he was out of anything to do, and he seriously considered the advice of his friends to become a blacksmith. This was a suitable trade for him, they said, because he was so strong armed. But this work gave him no leisure for study and he decided against it. The only thing he knew was store-keeping and he decided to buy a store. The opportunity was open for him to buy a half interest with William Berry and he did so, giving notes for the goods. Business prospered rapidly while the enthusiasm was on, but Berry loved whisky as much as Lincoln loved books, and between the one who squandered time and money on liquor, and the one who neglected business for books, there could not be expected any results more natural than that business should finally go to pieces.
It was in the midst of these conditions that Berry took out a tavern license for the firm. It is understood that this was not for the purpose of keeping a liquor grocery, but to enable them to sell the stock on hand that had come to them from the stores they had bought out, and probably to get the much needed money to conduct their business. In those days a store could get no business if it had no liquor to sell. The personal morality of a thing must be considered in relation to the times. The selling of liquor by the quart was then as unquestioned propriety as selling potatoes or flour. Liquor was sold in all grocery stores as a part of the general business of the store the same as tobacco or sugar.
But it should be noted that the license was taken out in the name of Berry and that Lincoln’s name was signed by some other person to the bond.
Among the characteristic incidents told of Lincoln during this period is that of his encounter with a swaggering stranger who came into the store and used his choicest oaths in the presence of some women. Lincoln asked him to stop but he paid no attention. At the second request, more firmly given, he declared that nobody could dictate his style of language in a free country.
“Well,” said Lincoln, as the newcomer continued swearing, “if you must be whipped, I suppose I might as well whip you as any other man.”
The man believed he could “whip” Lincoln and vindicate the freedom of speech and the rights of man. According to his theory, right was on his side, and it could be vindicated by battle. Lincoln’s more concrete object was to prevent swearing in the presence of women. So they went outside to begin the war. The obliging persons present formed a ring around the combatants to insure fair play, and the freedom of decency began its war with the freedom of speech, according to the ancient wager of battle.
New Salem had little doubt about which would win. In a minute Lincoln was rubbing smartweed into the eyes of the freedom of speech, and the rights of man was bellowing for mercy.
New Salem was at bottom composed of real men and they liked that sort of thing. The champion of genuine human freedom and real rights in New Salem was building his unknown way to be the champion of the same fundamental human interests in the capital of his nation.
It is very likely that those who feel little think even less, because those wideawake enough to think much must have imagination, which is the mother of sympathy. Many stories are told of Lincoln’s deep feeling of sympathy for those about him, and especially he was the friend who believed in decency and loved moral order.
“Honest Abe” is a name that would be generally regarded now as a “nickname” expressing a kind of good-natured contempt. Justice now wades deep streams in the adjustments of big business. But Abraham Lincoln had a musical soul and the color harmony of a great scenic artist for humanity. He might not have an eye for fitness in clothes or the idealism of pretty things, but his soul was in pain over any mistreatment of human beings. He could not endure the discordant note in any dishonest transaction, and he could not stand for any blur on the canvas in the scenes of mercy and justice. Like great standards of right-life waving in the breeze were many acts of Lincoln endearing him to the confidence of his people. As an illustration may be mentioned the incident of his taking six and a quarter cents too much from a customer. He walked three miles in the evening after the store closed, in order to restore the money. Another time he weighed out half a pound of tea and afterward discovered that a four-ounce weight had been on the scales. He weighed out the extra four ounces and closed the store so he could promptly deliver the remainder of the tea. This was probably poor business, but it meant much for human liberty that the people believed in him, and that he always made good in fulfillment of that belief.
Any one doing these things now would very likely be playing the game of getting a reputation for honesty as the best policy for the sake of the policy, and if he required such strictness of dealing with himself he would be regarded merely as a miser. Only bankers, the post office and big business are expected legitimately to hunt for the lost cent all night before the account books can be closed. But this was Lincoln’s whole life and his neighbors knew it. They told other people that he was a man to be trusted until at last the whole world knew it, and the historians recorded it among the imperishable records of civilization.
A nation is rich as it has such ideals of character, especially in this kind striving on from the lowliest to the highest, through the destitution and discouragement that may drag down the aspiring dream of better life.
Robert Browning appreciates the honored names when he says,
“A nation is but an attempt of many,
To rise to the completer life of one;
And they who live as models for the mass
Are simply of more value than they all.”