--

On

the

Duty

of

Civil

Disobedience


--

by

Henry

David

Thoreau


--

[1849,

original

title:

Resistance

to

Civil

Government]


--

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

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.


--

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

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

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

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

corpse

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

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

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

second

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

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.


--

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.


--

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

inconvenience,

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

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,

near

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

others

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.


--

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

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,

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

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.


--

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.


--

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

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.


--

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?


--

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.


--

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

be

doing

_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

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.


--

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

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

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

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.


--

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

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;

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.


--

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.


--

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

such

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

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

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

nature,

it

dies;

and

so

a

man.


--

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

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

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.


--

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

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

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

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

use

and

get

what

advantages

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

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.


--

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

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

of

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

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?


--

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

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

America

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.”


[These

extracts

have

been

inserted

since

the

lecture

was

read

-HDT]


--

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.


--

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

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

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

I

have

also

imagined,

but

not

yet

anywhere

seen.


--