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
the people 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
faint 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 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 course to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell
shot
O'er the grave where our hero was 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 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."
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 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.
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
pricescurrent along with the latest advices from Mexico, after
dinner, and, it may be, fall asleep over them both. What is the
pricecurrent 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.
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,
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 selfreliance; 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 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
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.
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 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.
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 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.
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.
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 lied 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, 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.
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 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 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,
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.
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 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.
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
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 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 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.
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."
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 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. [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 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.
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.
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