
Henry David Thoreau
Resistance to Civil Government, or Civil Disobedience
[1] 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 the 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.
[2] 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 upon, 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 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 mischievious persons who put obstructions
on the railroads.
[3] But, to speak practically
and as a citizen, unlike those who call themselves no-government men,
I ask for, not at one 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.
[4]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 can not be based
on justice, even as far as men understand it. Can there not be a government
in which the 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 legislator? 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
on 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 on injustice. A common and natural
result of an undue respect for the 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 accompaniment, 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 out hero was buried."
[5] 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
judgement 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 the 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 second at control,
Or useful serving-man and instrument
To any sovereign state throughout the
world."
[6] He who gives himself
entirely to his fellow men appears to them useless and selfish; but
he who gives himself partially to them in pronounced a benefactor and
philanthropist.
[7] How does it become
a man to behave toward the 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.
[8] 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
counter-balance 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 that fact that the country so overrun is not our own, but ours is
the invading army.
[9] 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 it, so long as the established government
cannot be resisted or changed without public inconveniencey, 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 and 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.
[10] In their practice,
nations agree with Paley; but does anyone think that Massachusetts does
exactly what is right at the present crisis?
A drab of stat, 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, neat
at home, co-operate 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 as materially wiser or better than the many. It is not
so important that many should be 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 other to
remedy the evil, that they may no longer have it to regret. At most,
they give up only a cheap vote, and a feeble countenance and Godspeed,
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.
[11] 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.
[12] 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 this 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 reasons 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, and my neighbor says, has a bone is 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 the 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 to 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.
[13] It is not a man’s
duty, as a matter of course, to devote himself to the eradication of
any, even to 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
hired 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.
[14] 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 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?
[15] How can a man
be satisfied to entertain and 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 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 to it 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 divided States and churches, it divides families; ay, it
divides the individual, separating the diabolical in him from the divine.
[16] 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 put 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?
[17] One would think,
that a deliberate and practical denial of its authority was the only
offense never contemplated by its 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 put him there; but if
he should steal ninety times nine shillings from the State, he is soon
permitted to go at large again.
[18] 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.
[19] As for adopting
the ways of 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 be petitioning
the Governor or the Legislature any more than it is theirs to petition
me; and if they should not hear 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 unconcilliatory;
but it is to treat with the utmost kindness and consideration the only
spirit that can appreciate or deserves it. So is all change for the
better, like birth and death, which convulse the body.
[20] 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.
[21] 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 that he is and
does as an officer of the government, or as a man, until he is obliged
to consider whether he will 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 neighborlines
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 co-partnership, 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 of the following winter.
[22] Under a government
which imprisons 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 despondent 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 from office, then the
revolution is accomplished. But even suppose 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.
[23] 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; 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 that
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.
[24] 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 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.
[25] 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, as 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 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 such a complete
list.
[26] 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 my 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 nor 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.
[27] 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 with 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 live 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 our 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 nature, it dies; and so a man.
[28] The night in prison
was novel and interesting enough. The prisoners in their shirtsleeves
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 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 neatest apartment in 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
an, 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.
[29] 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
there 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 young men who had
been detected in an attempt to escape, who avenged themselves by singing
them.
[30] 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.
[31] 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, not 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.
[32] 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.
[33] 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 gray-headed man; and yet a change
had come 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 through 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.
[34] 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 jail window, "How do ye do?" My neighbors
did not this 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 mender. When I was
let out the next morning, I proceeded to finish my errand, and, having
put on my mended show, 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.
[35] This is the whole
history of "My Prisons."
[36] 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 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
use and get what advantages of her I can, as is usual in such cases.
[37] 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.
[38] This, then is
my position at present. But one cannot be too much on his guard in such
a case, lest his actions 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.
[39] 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 feelings 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 for 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.
[40] 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
Out 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."
[41] 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 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; 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?
[42] 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.
[43] 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 tim, 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 an 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 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 various States came into the Union." Still
thinking of the sanction which the Constitution gives to slavery, he
says, "Because it was 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 American today with regard to slavery—but ventures,
or is driven, to make some such desperate answer to the following, while
professing to speak absolutely, and as a private man—from which what
new and singular of social duties might be inferred? "The manner," says
he, "in which the governments of the States where slavery exists are
to regulate it is for their own consideration, under the 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. [Thoreau’s Note: "These extracts have been inserted since
the lecture was read."]
[44] 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 humanity; 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 fountainhead.
[45] 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 freed, 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.
[46] 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 last 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 lie 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 I have also imagined, but not yet anywhere
seen
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