| I HEARTILY ACCEPT the motto, "That government is best which governs least"; and
I should like to see it acted up to more rapidly and systematically.
Carried out, it finally amounts to this, which also I believe
- "That government is best which governs not at all"; and when
men are prepared for it, that will be the kind of government which
they will have. Government is at best but an expedient; but most
governments are usually, and all governments are sometimes, inexpedient.
The objections which have been brought against a standing army,
and they are many and weighty, and deserve to prevail, may also
at last be brought against a standing government. The standing
army is only an arm of the standing government. The government
itself, which is only the mode which the people have chosen to
execute their will, is equally liable to be abused and perverted
before the people can act through it. Witness the present Mexican
war, the work of comparatively a few individuals using the standing
government as their tool; for, in the outset, the people would
not have consented to this measure.
This American government - what is it but a tradition, though
a recent one, endeavoring to transmit itself unimpaired to posterity,
but each instant losing some of its integrity? It has not the
vitality and force of a single living man; for a single man can
bend it to his will. It is a sort of wooden gun to the people
themselves. But it is not the less necessary for this; for the
people must have some complicated machinery or other, and hear
its din, to satisfy that idea of government which they have. Governments
show thus how successfully men can be imposed on, even impose
on themselves, for their own advantage. It is excellent, we must
all allow. Yet this government never of itself furthered any enterprise,
but by the alacrity with which it got out of its way. It does
not keep the country free. It does not settle the West. It does
not educate. The character inherent in the American people has
done all that has been accomplished; and it would have done somewhat
more, if the government had not sometimes got in its way. For
government is an expedient by which men would fain succeed in
letting one another alone; and, as has been said, when it is most
expedient, the governed are most let alone by it. Trade and commerce,
if they were not made of india-rubber, would never manage to bounce
over the obstacles which legislators are continually putting in
their way; and, if one were to judge these men wholly by the effects
of their actions and not partly by their intentions, they would
deserve to be classed and punished with those mischievous persons
who put obstructions on the railroads.
But, to speak practically and as a citizen, unlike those who call
themselves no-government men, I ask for, not at once no government,
but at once a better government. Let every man make known what
kind of government would command his respect, and that will be
one step toward obtaining it.
After all, the practical reason why, when the power is once in
the hands of the people, a majority are permitted, and for a long
period continue, to rule is not because they are most likely to
be in the right, nor because this seems fairest to the minority,
but because they are physically the strongest. But a government
in which the majority rule in all cases cannot be based on justice,
even as far as men understand it. Can there not be a government
in which majorities do not virtually decide right and wrong, but
conscience? - in which majorities decide only those questions
to which the rule of expediency is applicable? Must the citizen
ever for a moment, or in the least degree, resign his conscience
to the legislation? Why has every man a conscience, then? I think
that we should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not
desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the
right. The only obligation which I have a right to assume is to
do at any time what I think right. It is truly enough said that
a corporation has no conscience; but a corporation of conscientious
men is a corporation with a conscience. Law never made men a whit
more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed
are daily made the agents of injustice. A common and natural result
of an undue respect for law is, that you may see a file of soldiers,
colonel, captain, corporal, privates, powder-monkeys, and all,
marching in admirable order over hill and dale to the wars, against
their wills, ay, against their common sense and consciences, which
makes it very steep marching indeed, and produces a palpitation
of the heart. They have no doubt that it is a damnable business
in which they are concerned; they are all peaceably inclined.
Now, what are they? Men at all? or small movable forts and magazines,
at the service of some unscrupulous man in power? Visit the Navy-Yard,
and behold a marine, such a man as an American government can
make, or such as it can make a man with its black arts - a mere
shadow and reminiscence of humanity, a man laid out alive and
standing, and already, as one may say, buried under arms with
funeral accompaniments, though it may be,
- "Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried."
The mass of men serve the state thus, not as men mainly, but as
machines, with their bodies. They are the standing army, and the
militia, jailers, constables, posse comitatus, etc. In most cases
there is no free exercise whatever of the judgment or of the moral
sense; but they put themselves on a level with wood and earth
and stones; and wooden men can perhaps be manufactured that will
serve the purpose as well. Such command no more respect than men
of straw or a lump of dirt. They have the same sort of worth only
as horses and dogs. Yet such as these even are commonly esteemed
good citizens. Others - as most legislators, politicians, lawyers,
ministers, and office-holders - serve the state chiefly with their
heads; and, as they rarely make any moral distinctions, they are
as likely to serve the devil, without intending it, as God. A
very few - as heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great
sense, and men - serve the state with their consciences also,
and so necessarily resist it for the most part; and they are commonly
treated as enemies by it. A wise man will only be useful as a
man, and will not submit to be "clay," and "stop a hole to keep
the wind away," but leave that office to his dust at least:
- "I am too high-born to be propertied,
To be a secondary at control,
Or useful serving-man and instrument
To any sovereign state throughout the world."
He who gives himself entirely to his fellow-men appears to them
useless and selfish; but he who gives himself partially to them
is pronounced a benefactor and philanthropist.
How does it become a man to behave toward this American government
today? I answer, that he cannot without disgrace be associated
with it. I cannot for an instant recognize that political organization
as my government which is the slave's government also.
All men recognize the right of revolution; that is, the right
to refuse allegiance to, and to resist, the government, when its
tyranny or its inefficiency are great and unendurable. But almost
all say that such is not the case now. But such was the case,
they think, in the Revolution Of '75. If one were to tell me that
this was a bad government because it taxed certain foreign commodities
brought to its ports, it is most probable that I should not make
an ado about it, for I can do without them. All machines have
their friction; and possibly this does enough good to counterbalance
the evil. At any rate, it is a great evil to make a stir about
it. But when the friction comes to have its machine, and oppression
and robbery are organized, I say, let us not have such a machine
any longer. In other words, when a sixth of the population of
a nation which has undertaken to be the refuge of liberty are
slaves, and a whole country is unjustly overrun and conquered
by a foreign army, and subjected to military law, I think that
it is not too soon for honest men to rebel and revolutionize.
What makes this duty the more urgent is the fact that the country
so overrun is not our own, but ours is the invading army.
Paley, a common authority with many on moral questions, in his
chapter on the "Duty of Submission to Civil Government," resolves
all civil obligation into expediency; and he proceeds to say that
"so long as the interest of the whole society requires it, that
is, so long as the established government cannot be resisted or
changed without public inconveniency, it is the will of God...
that the established government be obeyed - and no longer. This
principle being admitted, the justice of every particular case
of resistance is reduced to a computation of the quantity of the
danger and grievance on the one side, and of the probability and
expense of redressing it on the other." Of this, he says, every
man shall judge for himself. But Paley appears never to have contemplated
those cases to which the rule of expediency does not apply, in
which a people, as well as an individual, must do justice, cost
what it may. If I have unjustly wrested a plank from a drowning
man, I must restore it to him though I drown myself. This, according
to Paley, would be inconvenient. But he that would save his life,
in such a case, shall lose it. This people must cease to hold
slaves, and to make war on Mexico, though it cost them their existence
as a people.
In their practice, nations agree with Paley; but does any one
think that Massachusetts does exactly what is right at the present
crisis?
- "A drab of state, a cloth-o'-silver slut,
To have her train borne up, and her soul trail in the dirt."
Practically speaking, the opponents to a reform in Massachusetts
are not a hundred thousand politicians at the South, but a hundred
thousand merchants and farmers here, who are more interested in
commerce and agriculture than they are in humanity, and are not
prepared to do justice to the slave and to Mexico, cost what it
may. I quarrel not with far-off foes, but with those who, near
at home, cooperate with, and do the bidding of those far away,
and without whom the latter would be harmless. We are accustomed
to say, that the mass of men are unprepared; but improvement is
slow, because the few are not materially wiser or better than
the many. It is not so important that many should be as good as
you, as that there be some absolute goodness somewhere; for that
will leaven the whole lump. There are thousands who are in opinion
opposed to slavery and to the war, who yet in effect do nothing
to put an end to them; who, esteeming themselves children of Washington
and Franklin, sit down with their hands in their pockets, and
say that they know not what to do, and do nothing; who even postpone
the question of freedom to the question of free trade, and quietly
read the prices-current along with the latest advices from Mexico,
after dinner, and, it may be, fall asleep over them both. What
is the price-current of an honest man and patriot today? They
hesitate, and they regret, and sometimes they petition; but they
do nothing in earnest and with effect. They will wait, well disposed,
for others to remedy the evil, that they may no longer have it
to regret. At most, they give only a cheap vote, and a feeble
countenance and God-speed, to the right, as it goes by them. There
are nine hundred and ninety-nine patrons of virtue to one virtuous
man. But it is easier to deal with the real possessor of a thing
than with the temporary guardian of it.
All voting is a sort of gaming, like checkers or backgammon, with
a slight moral tinge to it, a playing with right and wrong, with
moral questions; and betting naturally accompanies it. The character
of the voters is not staked. I cast my vote, perchance, as I think
right; but I am not vitally concerned that that right should prevail.
I am willing to leave it to the majority. Its obligation, therefore,
never exceeds that of expediency. Even voting for the right is
doing nothing for it. It is only expressing to men feebly your
desire that it should prevail. A wise man will not leave the right
to the mercy of chance, nor wish it to prevail through the power
of the majority. There is but little virtue in the action of masses
of men. When the majority shall at length vote for the abolition
of slavery, it will be because they are indifferent to slavery,
or because there is but little slavery left to be abolished by
their vote. They will then be the only slaves. Only his vote can
hasten the abolition of slavery who asserts his own freedom by
his vote.
I hear of a convention to be held at Baltimore, or elsewhere,
for the selection of a candidate for the Presidency, made up chiefly
of editors, and men who are politicians by profession; but I think,
what is it to any independent, intelligent, and respectable man
what decision they may come to? Shall we not have the advantage
of his wisdom and honesty, nevertheless? Can we not count upon
some independent votes? Are there not many individuals in the
country who do not attend conventions? But no: I find that the
respectable man, so called, has immediately drifted from his position,
and despairs of his country, when his country has more reason
to despair of him. He forthwith adopts one of the candidates thus
selected as the only available one, thus proving that he is himself
available for any purposes of the demagogue. His vote is of no
more worth than that of any unprincipled foreigner or hireling
native, who may have been bought. O for a man who is a man, and,
as my neighbor says, has a bone in his back which you cannot pass
your hand through! Our statistics are at fault: the population
has been returned too large. How many men are there to a square
thousand miles in this country? Hardly one. Does not America offer
any inducement for men to settle here? The American has dwindled
into an Odd Fellow - one who may be known by the development of
his organ of gregariousness, and a manifest lack of intellect
and cheerful self-reliance; whose first and chief concern, on
coming into the world, is to see that the almshouses are in good
repair; and, before yet he has lawfully donned the virile garb,
to collect a fund for the support of the widows and orphans that
may be; who, in short, ventures to live only by the aid of the
Mutual Insurance company, which has promised to bury him decently.
It is not a man's duty, as a matter of course, to devote himself
to the eradication of any, even the most enormous, wrong; he may
still properly have other concerns to engage him; but it is his
duty, at least, to wash his hands of it, and, if he gives it no
thought longer, not to give it practically his support. If I devote
myself to other pursuits and contemplations, I must first see,
at least, that I do not pursue them sitting upon another man's
shoulders. I must get off him first, that he may pursue his contemplations
too. See what gross inconsistency is tolerated. I have heard some
of my townsmen say, "I should like to have them order me out to
help put down an insurrection of the slaves, or to march to Mexico;
- see if I would go"; and yet these very men have each, directly
by their allegiance, and so indirectly, at least, by their money,
furnished a substitute. The soldier is applauded who refuses to
serve in an unjust war by those who do not refuse to sustain the
unjust government which makes the war; is applauded by those whose
own act and authority he disregards and sets at naught; as if
the state were penitent to that degree that it differed one to
scourge it while it sinned, but not to that degree that it left
off sinning for a moment. Thus, under the name of Order and Civil
Government, we are all made at last to pay homage to and support
our own meanness. After the first blush of sin comes its indifference;
and from immoral it becomes, as it were, unmoral, and not quite
unnecessary to that life which we have made.
The broadest and most prevalent error requires the most disinterested
virtue to sustain it. The slight reproach to which the virtue
of patriotism is commonly liable, the noble are most likely to
incur. Those who, while they disapprove of the character and measures
of a government, yield to it their allegiance and support are
undoubtedly its most conscientious supporters, and so frequently
the most serious obstacles to reform. Some are petitioning the
State to dissolve the Union, to disregard the requisitions of
the President. Why do they not dissolve it themselves - the union
between themselves and the State - and refuse to pay their quota
into its treasury? Do not they stand in the same relation to the
State that the State does to the Union? And have not the same
reasons prevented the State from resisting the Union which have
prevented them from resisting the State?
How can a man be satisfied to entertain an opinion merely, and
enjoy it? Is there any enjoyment in it, if his opinion is that
he is aggrieved? If you are cheated out of a single dollar by
your neighbor, you do not rest satisfied with knowing that you
are cheated, or with saying that you are cheated, or even with
petitioning him to pay you your due; but you take effectual steps
at once to obtain the full amount, and see that you are never
cheated again. Action from principle, the perception and the performance
of right, changes things and relations; it is essentially revolutionary,
and does not consist wholly with anything which was. It not only
divides States and churches, it divides families; ay, it divides
the individual, separating the diabolical in him from the divine.
Unjust laws exist: shall we be content to obey them, or shall
we endeavor to amend them, and obey them until we have succeeded,
or shall we transgress them at once? Men generally, under such
a government as this, think that they ought to wait until they
have persuaded the majority to alter them. They think that, if
they should resist, the remedy would be worse than the evil. But
it is the fault of the government itself that the remedy is worse
than the evil. It makes it worse. Why is it not more apt to anticipate
and provide for reform? Why does it not cherish its wise minority?
Why does it cry and resist before it is hurt? Why does it not
encourage its citizens to be on the alert to point out its faults,
and do better than it would have them? Why does it always crucify
Christ, and excommunicate Copernicus and Luther, and pronounce
Washington and Franklin rebels?
One would think, that a deliberate and practical denial of its
authority was the only offence never contemplated by government;
else, why has it not assigned its definite, its suitable and proportionate,
penalty? If a man who has no property refuses but once to earn
nine shillings for the State, he is put in prison for a period
unlimited by any law that I know, and determined only by the discretion
of those who placed him there; but if he should steal ninety times
nine shillings from the State, he is soon permitted to go at large
again.
If the injustice is part of the necessary friction of the machine
of government, let it go, let it go: perchance it will wear smooth
- certainly the machine will wear out. If the injustice has a
spring, or a pulley, or a rope, or a crank, exclusively for itself,
then perhaps you may consider whether the remedy will not be worse
than the evil; but if it is of such a nature that it requires
you to be the agent of injustice to another, then, I say, break
the law. Let your life be a counter-friction to stop the machine.
What I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself
to the wrong which I condemn.
As for adopting the ways which the State has provided for remedying
the evil, I know not of such ways. They take too much time, and
a man's life will be gone. I have other affairs to attend to.
I came into this world, not chiefly to make this a good place
to live in, but to live in it, be it good or bad. A man has not
everything to do, but something; and because he cannot do everything,
it is not necessary that he should do something wrong. It is not
my business to be petitioning the Governor or the Legislature
any more than it is theirs to petition me; and if they should
not bear my petition, what should I do then? But in this case
the State has provided no way: its very Constitution is the evil.
This may seem to be harsh and stubborn and unconciliatory; but
it is to treat with the utmost kindness and consideration the
only spirit that can appreciate or deserves it. So is an change
for the better, like birth and death, which convulse the body.
I do not hesitate to say, that those who call themselves Abolitionists
should at once effectually withdraw their support, both in person
and property, from the government of Massachusetts, and not wait
till they constitute a majority of one, before they suffer the
right to prevail through them. I think that it is enough if they
have God on their side, without waiting for that other one. Moreover,
any man more right than his neighbors constitutes a majority of
one already.
I meet this American government, or its representative, the State
government, directly, and face to face, once a year - no more
- in the person of its tax-gatherer; this is the only mode in
which a man situated as I am necessarily meets it; and it then
says distinctly, Recognize me; and the simplest, the most effectual,
and, in the present posture of affairs, the indispensablest mode
of treating with it on this head, of expressing your little satisfaction
with and love for it, is to deny it then. My civil neighbor, the
tax-gatherer, is the very man I have to deal with - for it is,
after all, with men and not with parchment that I quarrel - and
he has voluntarily chosen to be an agent of the government. How
shall he ever know well what he is and does as an officer of the
government, or as a man, until he is obliged to consider whether
he shall treat me, his neighbor, for whom he has respect, as a
neighbor and well-disposed man, or as a maniac and disturber of
the peace, and see if he can get over this obstruction to his
neighborliness without a ruder and more impetuous thought or speech
corresponding with his action. I know this well, that if one thousand,
if one hundred, if ten men whom I could name - if ten honest men
only - ay, if one HONEST man, in this State of Massachusetts,
ceasing to hold slaves, were actually to withdraw from this copartnership,
and be locked up in the county jail therefor, it would be the
abolition of slavery in America. For it matters not how small
the beginning may seem to be: what is once well done is done forever.
But we love better to talk about it: that we say is our mission,
Reform keeps many scores of newspapers in its service, but not
one man. If my esteemed neighbor, the State's ambassador, who
will devote his days to the settlement of the question of human
rights in the Council Chamber, instead of being threatened with
the prisons of Carolina, were to sit down the prisoner of Massachusetts,
that State which is so anxious to foist the sin of slavery upon
her sister - though at present she can discover only an act of
inhospitality to be the ground of a quarrel with her - the Legislature
would not wholly waive the subject the following winter.
Under a government which imprisons any unjustly, the true place
for a just man is also a prison. The proper place today, the only
place which Massachusetts has provided for her freer and less
desponding spirits, is in her prisons, to be put out and locked
out of the State by her own act, as they have already put themselves
out by their principles. It is there that the fugitive slave,
and the Mexican prisoner on parole, and the Indian come to plead
the wrongs of his race should find them; on that separate, but
more free and honorable, ground, where the State places those
who are not with her, but against her - the only house in a slave
State in which a free man can abide with honor. If any think that
their influence would be lost there, and their voices no longer
afflict the ear of the State, that they would not be as an enemy
within its walls, they do not know by how much truth is stronger
than error, nor how much more eloquently and effectively he can
combat injustice who has experienced a little in his own person.
Cast your whole vote, not a strip of paper merely, but your whole
influence. A minority is powerless while it conforms to the majority;
it is not even a minority then; but it is irresistible when it
clogs by its whole weight. If the alternative is to keep all just
men in prison, or give up war and slavery, the State will not
hesitate which to choose. If a thousand men were not to pay their
tax-bills this year, that would not be a violent and bloody measure,
as it would be to pay them, and enable the State to commit violence
and shed innocent blood. This is, in fact, the definition of a
peaceable revolution, if any such is possible. If the tax-gatherer,
or any other public officer, asks me, as one has done, "But what
shall I do?" my answer is, "If you really wish to do anything,
resign your office." When the subject has refused allegiance,
and the officer has resigned his office, then the revolution is
accomplished. But even suppose blood should flow. Is there not
a sort of blood shed when the conscience is wounded? Through this
wound a man's real manhood and immortality flow out, and he bleeds
to an everlasting death. I see this blood flowing now.
I have contemplated the imprisonment of the offender, rather than
the seizure of his goods - though both will serve the same purpose
- because they who assert the purest right, and consequently are
most dangerous to a corrupt State, commonly have not spent much
time in accumulating property. To such the State renders comparatively
small service, and a slight tax is wont to appear exorbitant,
particularly if they are obliged to earn it by special labor with
their hands. If there were one who lived wholly without the use
of money, the State itself would hesitate to demand it of him.
But the rich man - not to make any invidious comparison - is always
sold to the institution which makes him rich. Absolutely speaking,
the more money, the less virtue; for money comes between a man
and his objects, and obtains them for him; and it was certainly
no great virtue to obtain it. It puts to rest many questions which
he would otherwise be taxed to answer; while the only new question
which it puts is the hard but superfluous one, how to spend it.
Thus his moral ground is taken from under his feet. The opportunities
of living are diminished in proportion as what are called the
"means" are increased. The best thing a man can do for his culture
when he is rich is to endeavor to carry out those schemes which
he entertained when he was poor. Christ answered the Herodians
according to their condition. "Show me the tribute-money," said
he; - and one took a penny out of his pocket; - if you use money
which has the image of Caesar on it, and which he has made current
and valuable, that is, if you are men of the State, and gladly
enjoy the advantages of Caesar's government, then pay him back
some of his own when he demands it. "Render therefore to Caesar
that which is Caesar's, and to God those things which are God's"
- leaving them no wiser than before as to which was which; for
they did not wish to know.
When I converse with the freest of my neighbors, I perceive that,
whatever they may say about the magnitude and seriousness of the
question, and their regard for the public tranquillity, the long
and the short of the matter is, that they cannot spare the protection
of the existing government, and they dread the consequences to
their property and families of disobedience to it. For my own
part, I should not like to think that I ever rely on the protection
of the State. But, if I deny the authority of the State when it
presents its tax-bill, it will soon take and waste all my property,
and so harass me and my children without end. This is hard. This
makes it impossible for a man to live honestly, and at the same
time comfortably, in outward respects. It will not be worth the
while to accumulate property; that would be sure to go again.
You must hire or squat somewhere, and raise but a small crop,
and eat that soon. You must live within yourself, and depend upon
yourself always tucked up and ready for a start, and not have
many affairs. A man may grow rich in Turkey even, if he will be
in all respects a good subject of the Turkish government. Confucius
said: "If a state is governed by the principles of reason, poverty
and misery are subjects of shame; if a state is not governed by
the principles of reason, riches and honors are the subjects of
shame." No: until I want the protection of Massachusetts to be
extended to me in some distant Southern port, where my liberty
is endangered, or until I am bent solely on building up an estate
at home by peaceful enterprise, I can afford to refuse allegiance
to Massachusetts, and her right to my property and life. It costs
me less in every sense to incur the penalty of disobedience to
the State than it would to obey. I should feel as if I were worth
less in that case.
Some years ago, the State met me in behalf of the Church, and
commanded me to pay a certain sum toward the support of a clergyman
whose preaching my father attended, but never I myself. "Pay,"
it said, "or be locked up in the jail." I declined to pay. But,
unfortunately, another man saw fit to pay it. I did not see why
the schoolmaster should be taxed to support the priest, and not
the priest the schoolmaster; for I was not the State's schoolmaster,
but I supported myself by voluntary subscription. I did not see
why the lyceum should not present its tax-bill, and have the State
to back its demand, as well as the Church. However, at the request
of the selectmen, I condescended to make some such statement as
this in writing: - "Know all men by these presents, that I, Henry
Thoreau, do not wish to be regarded as a member of any incorporated
society which I have not joined." This I gave to the town clerk;
and he has it. The State, having thus learned that I did not wish
to be regarded as a member of that church, has never made a like
demand on me since; though it said that it must adhere to its
original presumption that time. If I had known how to name them,
I should then have signed off in detail from all the societies
which I never signed on to; but I did not know where to find a
complete list.
I have paid no poll-tax for six years. I was put into a jail once
on this account, for one night; and, as I stood considering the
walls of solid stone, two or three feet thick, the door of wood
and iron, a foot thick, and the iron grating which strained the
light, I could not help being struck with the foolishness of that
institution which treated me as if I were mere flesh and blood
and bones, to be locked up. I wondered that it should have concluded
at length that this was the best use it could put me to, and had
never thought to avail itself of my services in some way. I saw
that, if there was a wall of stone between me and my townsmen,
there was a still more difficult one to climb or break through
before they could get to be as free as I was. I did not for a
moment feel confined, and the walls seemed a great waste of stone
and mortar. I felt as if I alone of all my townsmen had paid my
tax. They plainly did not know how to treat me, but behaved like
persons who are underbred. In every threat and in every compliment
there was a blunder; for they thought that my chief desire was
to stand the other side of that stone wall. I could not but smile
to see how industriously they locked the door on my meditations,
which followed them out again without let or hindrance, and they
were really all that was dangerous. As they could not reach me,
they had resolved to punish my body; just as boys, if they cannot
come at some person against whom they have a spite, will abuse
his dog. I saw that the State was half-witted, that it was timid
as a lone woman with her silver spoons, and that it did not know
its friends from its foes, and I lost all my remaining respect
for it, and pitied it.
Thus the State never intentionally confronts a man's sense, intellectual
or moral, but only his body, his senses. It is not armed with
superior wit or honesty, but with superior physical strength.
I was not born to be forced. I will breathe after my own fashion.
Let us see who is the strongest. What force has a multitude? They
only can force me who obey a higher law than I. They force me
to become like themselves. I do not hear of men being forced to
have this way or that by masses of men. What sort of life were
that to live? When I meet a government which says to me, "Your
money or your life," why should I be in haste to give it my money?
It may be in a great strait, and not know what to do: I cannot
help that. It must help itself; do as I do. It is not worth the
while to snivel about it. I am not responsible for the successful
working of the machinery of society. I am not the son of the engineer.
I perceive that, when an acorn and a chestnut fall side by side,
the one does not remain inert to make way for the other, but both
obey their own laws, and spring and grow and flourish as best
they can, till one, perchance, overshadows and destroys the other.
If a plant cannot live according to its nature, it dies; and so
a man.
The night in prison was novel and interesting enough. The prisoners
in their shirt-sleeves were enjoying a chat and the evening air
in the doorway, when I entered. But the jailer said, "Come, boys,
it is time to lock up"; and so they dispersed, and I heard the
sound of their steps returning into the hollow apartments. My
room-mate was introduced to me by the jailer as "a first-rate
fellow and a clever man." When the door was locked, he showed
me where to hang my hat, and how he managed matters there. The
rooms were whitewashed once a month; and this one, at least, was
the whitest, most simply furnished, and probably the neatest apartment
in the town. He naturally wanted to know where I came from, and
what brought me there; and, when I had told him, I asked him in
my turn how he came there, presuming him to be an honest man,
of course; and, as the world goes, I believe he was. "Why," said
he, "they accuse me of burning a barn; but I never did it." As
near as I could discover, he had probably gone to bed in a barn
when drunk, and smoked his pipe there; and so a barn was burnt.
He had the reputation of being a clever man, had been there some
three months waiting for his trial to come on, and would have
to wait as much longer; but he was quite domesticated and contented,
since he got his board for nothing, and thought that he was well
treated.
He occupied one window, and I the other; and I saw that if one
stayed there long, his principal business would be to look out
the window. I had soon read all the tracts that were left there,
and examined where former prisoners had broken out, and where
a grate had been sawed off, and heard the history of the various
occupants of that room; for I found that even here there was a
history and a gossip which never circulated beyond the walls of
the jail. Probably this is the only house in the town where verses
are composed, which are afterward printed in a circular form,
but not published. I was shown quite a long list of verses which
were composed by some young men who had been detected in an attempt
to escape, who avenged themselves by singing them.
I pumped my fellow-prisoner as dry as I could, for fear I should
never see him again; but at length he showed me which was my bed,
and left me to blow out the lamp.
It was like travelling into a far country, such as I had never
expected to behold, to lie there for one night. It seemed to me
that I never had heard the town clock strike before, nor the evening
sounds of the village; for we slept with the windows open, which
were inside the grating. It was to see my native village in the
light of the Middle Ages, and our Concord was turned into a Rhine
stream, and visions of knights and castles passed before me. They
were the voices of old burghers that I heard in the streets. I
was an involuntary spectator and auditor of whatever was done
and said in the kitchen of the adjacent village inn - a wholly
new and rare experience to me. It was a closer view of my native
town. I was fairly inside of it. I never had seen its institutions
before. This is one of its peculiar institutions; for it is a
shire town. I began to comprehend what its inhabitants were about.
In the morning, our breakfasts were put through the hole in the
door, in small oblong-square tin pans, made to fit, and holding
a pint of chocolate, with brown bread, and an iron spoon. When
they called for the vessels again, I was green enough to return
what bread I had left; but my comrade seized it, and said that
I should lay that up for lunch or dinner. Soon after he was let
out to work at haying in a neighboring field, whither he went
every day, and would not be back till noon; so he bade me good-day,
saying that he doubted if he should see me again.
When I came out of prison - for some one interfered, and paid
that tax - I did not perceive that great changes had taken place
on the common, such as he observed who went in a youth and emerged
a tottering and gray-headed man; and yet a change had to my eyes
come over the scene - the town, and State, and country - greater
than any that mere time could effect. I saw yet more distinctly
the State in which I lived. I saw to what extent the people among
whom I lived could be trusted as good neighbors and friends; that
their friendship was for summer weather only; that they did not
greatly propose to do right; that they were a distinct race from
me by their prejudices and superstitions, as the Chinamen and
Malays are; that in their sacrifices to humanity they ran no risks,
not even to their property; that after all they were not so noble
but they treated the thief as he had treated them, and hoped,
by a certain outward observance and a few prayers, and by walking
in a particular straight though useless path from time to time,
to save their souls. This may be to judge my neighbors harshly;
for I believe that many of them are not aware that they have such
an institution as the jail in their village.
It was formerly the custom in our village, when a poor debtor
came out of jail, for his acquaintances to salute him, looking
through their fingers, which were crossed to represent the grating
of a jail window, "How do ye do?" My neighbors did not thus salute
me, but first looked at me, and then at one another, as if I had
returned from a long journey. I was put into jail as I was going
to the shoemaker's to get a shoe which was mended. When I was
let out the next morning, I proceeded to finish my errand, and,
having put on my mended shoe, joined a huckleberry party, who
were impatient to put themselves under my conduct; and in half
an hour - for the horse was soon tackled - was in the midst of
a huckleberry field, on one of our highest hills, two miles off,
and then the State was nowhere to be seen.
This is the whole history of "My Prisons."
I have never declined paying the highway tax, because I am as
desirous of being a good neighbor as I am of being a bad subject;
and as for supporting schools, I am doing my part to educate my
fellow-countrymen now. It is for no particular item in the tax-bill
that I refuse to pay it. I simply wish to refuse allegiance to
the State, to withdraw and stand aloof from it effectually. I
do not care to trace the course of my dollar, if I could, till
it buys a man or a musket to shoot one with - the dollar is innocent
- but I am concerned to trace the effects of my allegiance. In
fact, I quietly declare war with the State, after my fashion,
though I will still make what use and get what advantage of her
I can, as is usual in such cases.
If others pay the tax which is demanded of me, from a sympathy
with the State, they do but what they have already done in their
own case, or rather they abet injustice to a greater extent than
the State requires. If they pay the tax from a mistaken interest
in the individual taxed, to save his property, or prevent his
going to jail, it is because they have not considered wisely how
far they let their private feelings interfere with the public
good.
This, then, is my position at present. But one cannot be too much
on his guard in such a case, lest his action be biased by obstinacy
or an undue regard for the opinions of men. Let him see that he
does only what belongs to himself and to the hour.
I think sometimes, Why, this people mean well, they are only ignorant;
they would do better if they knew how: why give your neighbors
this pain to treat you as they are not inclined to? But I think
again, This is no reason why I should do as they do, or permit
others to suffer much greater pain of a different kind. Again,
I sometimes say to myself, When many millions of men, without
heat, without ill will, without personal feeling of any kind,
demand of you a few shillings only, without the possibility, such
is their constitution, of retracting or altering their present
demand, and without the possibility, on your side, of appeal to
any other millions, why expose yourself to this overwhelming brute
force? You do not resist cold and hunger, the winds and the waves,
thus obstinately; you quietly submit to a thousand similar necessities.
You do not put your head into the fire. But just in proportion
as I regard this as not wholly a brute force, but partly a human
force, and consider that I have relations to those millions as
to so many millions of men, and not of mere brute or inanimate
things, I see that appeal is possible, first and instantaneously,
from them to the Maker of them, and, secondly, from them to themselves.
But if I put my head deliberately into the fire, there is no appeal
to fire or to the Maker of fire, and I have only myself to blame.
If I could convince myself that I have any right to be satisfied
with men as they are, and to treat them accordingly, and not according,
in some respects, to my requisitions and expectations of what
they and I ought to be, then, like a good Mussulman and fatalist,
I should endeavor to be satisfied with things as they are, and
say it is the will of God. And, above all, there is this difference
between resisting this and a purely brute or natural force, that
I can resist this with some effect; but I cannot expect, like
Orpheus, to change the nature of the rocks and trees and beasts.
I do not wish to quarrel with any man or nation. I do not wish
to split hairs, to make fine distinctions, or set myself up as
better than my neighbors. I seek rather, I may say, even an excuse
for conforming to the laws of the land. I am but too ready to
conform to them. Indeed, I have reason to suspect myself on this
head; and each year, as the tax-gatherer comes round, I find myself
disposed to review the acts and position of the general and State
governments, and the spirit of the people, to discover a pretext
for conformity.
- "We must affect our country as our parents,
And if at any time we alienate
Our love or industry from doing it honor,
We must respect effects and teach the soul
Matter of conscience and religion,
And not desire of rule or benefit."
I believe that the State will soon be able to take all my work
of this sort out of my hands, and then I shall be no better a
patriot than my fellow-countrymen. Seen from a lower point of
view, the Constitution, with all its faults, is very good; the
law and the courts are very respectable; even this State and this
American government are, in many respects, very admirable, and
rare things, to be thankful for, such as a great many have described
them; but seen from a point of view a little higher, they are
what I have described them; seen from a higher still, and the
highest, who shall say what they are, or that they are worth looking
at or thinking of at all?
However, the government does not concern me much, and I shall
bestow the fewest possible thoughts on it. It is not many moments
that I live under a government, even in this world. If a man is
thought-free, fancy-free, imagination-free, that which is not
never for a long time appearing to be to him, unwise rulers or
reformers cannot fatally interrupt him.
I know that most men think differently from myself; but those
whose lives are by profession devoted to the study of these or
kindred subjects content me as little as any. Statesmen and legislators,
standing so completely within the institution, never distinctly
and nakedly behold it. They speak of moving society, but have
no resting-place without it. They may be men of a certain experience
and discrimination, and have no doubt invented ingenious and even
useful systems, for which we sincerely thank them; but all their
wit and usefulness lie within certain not very wide limits. They
are wont to forget that the world is not governed by policy and
expediency. Webster never goes behind government, and so cannot
speak with authority about it. His words are wisdom to those legislators
who contemplate no essential reform in the existing government;
but for thinkers, and those who legislate for all time, he never
once glances at the subject. I know of those whose serene and
wise speculations on this theme would soon reveal the limits of
his mind's range and hospitality. Yet, compared with the cheap
professions of most reformers, and the still cheaper wisdom and
eloquence of politicians in general, his are almost the only sensible
and valuable words, and we thank Heaven for him. Comparatively,
he is always strong, original, and, above all, practical. Still,
his quality is not wisdom, but prudence. The lawyer's truth is
not Truth, but consistency or a consistent expediency. Truth is
always in harmony with herself, and is not concerned chiefly to
reveal the justice that may consist with wrong-doing. He well
deserves to be called, as he has been called, the Defender of
the Constitution. There are really no blows to be given by him
but defensive ones. He is not a leader, but a follower. His leaders
are the men of '87 - "I have never made an effort," he says, "and
never propose to make an effort; I have never countenanced an
effort, and never mean to countenance an effort, to disturb the
arrangement as originally made, by which the various States came
into the Union." Still thinking of the sanction which the Constitution
gives to slavery, he says, "Because it was a part of the original
compact - let it stand." Notwithstanding his special acuteness
and ability, he is unable to take a fact out of its merely political
relations, and behold it as it lies absolutely to be disposed
of by the intellect - what, for instance, it behooves a man to
do here in America today with regard to slavery - but ventures,
or is driven, to make some such desperate answer as the following,
while professing to speak absolutely, and as a private man - from
which what new and singular code of social duties might be inferred?
"The manner," says he, "in which the governments of those States
where slavery exists are to regulate it is for their own consideration,
under their responsibility to their constituents, to the general
laws of propriety, humanity, and justice, and to God. Associations
formed elsewhere, springing from a feeling of humanity, or any
other cause, have nothing whatever to do with it. They have never
received any encouragement from me, and they never will."
They who know of no purer sources of truth, who have traced up
its stream no higher, stand, and wisely stand, by the Bible and
the Constitution, and drink at it there with reverence and humility;
but they who behold where it comes trickling into this lake or
that pool, gird up their loins once more, and continue their pilgrimage
toward its fountain-head.
No man with a genius for legislation has appeared in America.
They are rare in the history of the world. There are orators,
politicians, and eloquent men, by the thousand; but the speaker
has not yet opened his mouth to speak who is capable of settling
the much-vexed questions of the day. We love eloquence for its
own sake, and not for any truth which it may utter, or any heroism
it may inspire. Our legislators have not yet learned the comparative
value of free trade and of freedom, of union, and of rectitude,
to a nation. They have no genius or talent for comparatively humble
questions of taxation and finance, commerce and manufactures and
agriculture. If we were left solely to the wordy wit of legislators
in Congress for our guidance, uncorrected by the seasonable experience
and the effectual complaints of the people, America would not
long retain her rank among the nations. For eighteen hundred years,
though perchance I have no right to say it, the New Testament
has been written; yet where is the legislator who has wisdom and
practical talent enough to avail himself of the light which it
sheds on the science of legislation?
The authority of government, even such as I am willing to submit
to - for I will cheerfully obey those who know and can do better
than I, and in many things even those who neither know nor can
do so well - is still an impure one: to be strictly just, it must
have the sanction and consent of the governed. It can have no
pure right over my person and property but what I concede to it.
The progress from an absolute to a limited monarchy, from a limited
monarchy to a democracy, is a progress toward a true respect for
the individual. Even the Chinese philosopher was wise enough to
regard the individual as the basis of the empire. Is a democracy,
such as we know it, the last improvement possible in government?
Is it not possible to take a step further towards recognizing
and organizing the rights of man? There will never be a really
free and enlightened State until the State comes to recognize
the individual as a higher and independent power, from which all
its own power and authority are derived, and treats him accordingly.
I please myself with imagining a State at least which can afford
to be just to all men, and to treat the individual with respect
as a neighbor; which even would not think it inconsistent with
its own repose if a few were to live aloof from it, not meddling
with it, nor embraced by it, who fulfilled all the duties of neighbors
and fellow-men. A State which bore this kind of fruit, and suffered
it to drop off as fast as it ripened, would prepare the way for
a still more perfect and glorious State, which also I have imagined,
but not yet anywhere seen. |
