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Civil Disobedience
By Henry David Thoreau
1849
I heartily accept the
motto, "That government is best which governs least"; and I should
like to see it acted up to more rapidly and systematically. Carried out, it
finally amounts to this, which also I believe- "That government is best
which governs not at all"; and when men are prepared for it, that will
be the kind of government which they will have. Government is at best but an
expedient; but most governments are usually, and all governments are sometimes,
inexpedient. The objections which have been brought against a standing army,
and they are many and weighty, and deserve to prevail, may also at last be
brought against a standing government. The standing army is only an arm of
the standing government. The government itself, which is only the mode which
the people have chosen to execute their will, is equally liable to be abused
and perverted before the people can act through it. Witness the present
Mexican war, the work of comparatively a few individuals using the standing
government as their tool; for, in the outset, the people would not have
consented to this measure.
This American
government- what is it but a tradition, though a recent one, endeavoring to
transmit itself unimpaired to posterity, but each instant losing some of its
integrity? It has not the vitality and force of a single living man; for a
single man can bend it to his will. It is a sort of wooden gun to the people
themselves. But it is not the less necessary for this; for the people must
have some complicated machinery or other, and hear its din, to satisfy that
idea of government which they have. Governments show thus how successfully
men can be imposed on, even impose on themselves, for their own advantage. It
is excellent, we must all allow. Yet this government never of itself
furthered any enterprise, but by the alacrity with which it got out of its
way. It does not keep the country free. It does not settle the West. It does
not educate. The character inherent in the American people has done all that
has been accomplished; and it would have done somewhat more, if the
government had not sometimes got in its way. For government is an expedient
by which men would fain succeed in letting one another alone; and, as has
been said, when it is most expedient, the governed are most let alone by it.
Trade and commerce, if they were not made of india-rubber, would never manage
to bounce over the obstacles which legislators are continually putting in
their way; and, if one were to judge these men wholly by the effects of their
actions and not partly by their intentions, they would deserve to be classed
and punished with those mischievous persons who put obstructions on the
railroads.
But, to speak
practically and as a citizen, unlike those who call themselves no-government
men, I ask for, not at once no government, but at once a better government.
Let every man make known what kind of government would command his respect,
and that will be one step toward obtaining it.
After all, the
practical reason why, when the power is once in the hands of the people, a
majority are permitted, and for a long period continue, to rule is not
because they are most likely to be in the right, nor because this seems
fairest to the minority, but because they are physically the strongest. But a
government in which the majority rule in all cases cannot be based on
justice, even as far as men understand it. Can there not be a government in
which majorities do not virtually decide right and wrong, but conscience?- in
which majorities decide only those questions to which the rule of expediency
is applicable? Must the citizen ever for a moment, or in the least degree,
resign his conscience to the legislation? Why has every man a conscience,
then? I think that we should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not
desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right. The
only obligation which I have a right to assume is to do at any time what I
think right. It is truly enough said that a corporation has no conscience;
but a corporation of conscientious men is a corporation with a conscience.
Law never made men a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it,
even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice. A common and
natural result of an undue respect for law is, that you may see a file of
soldiers, colonel, captain, corporal, privates, powder-monkeys, and all,
marching in admirable order over hill and dale to the wars, against their
wills, ay, against their common sense and consciences, which makes it very
steep marching indeed, and produces a palpitation of the heart. They have no
doubt that it is a damnable business in which they are concerned; they are
all peaceably inclined. Now, what are they? Men at all? or small movable
forts and magazines, at the service of some unscrupulous man in power? Visit
the Navy-Yard, and behold a marine, such a man as an American government can
make, or such as it can make a man with its black arts- a mere shadow and
reminiscence of humanity, a man laid out alive and standing, and already, as
one may say, buried under arms with funeral accompaniments, though it may be,
"Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried."
The mass of men serve
the state thus, not as men mainly, but as machines, with their bodies. They
are the standing army, and the militia, jailers, constables, posse comitatus,
etc. In most cases there is no free exercise whatever of the judgment or of
the moral sense; but they put themselves on a level with wood and earth and
stones; and wooden men can perhaps be manufactured that will serve the
purpose as well. Such command no more respect than men of straw or a lump of dirt.
They have the same sort of worth only as horses and dogs. Yet such as these
even are commonly esteemed good citizens. Others- as most legislators,
politicians, lawyers, ministers, and office-holders- serve the state chiefly
with their heads; and, as they rarely make any moral distinctions, they are
as likely to serve the devil, without intending it, as God. A very few- as
heroes, patriots, martyrs, reformers in the great sense, and men- serve the
state with their consciences also, and so necessarily resist it for the most
part; and they are commonly treated as enemies by it. A wise man will only be
useful as a man, and will not submit to be "clay," and "stop a
hole to keep the wind away," but leave that office to his dust at least:
"I am too high-born to be propertied,
To be a secondary at control,
Or useful serving-man and instrument
To any sovereign state throughout the world."
He who gives himself entirely to his fellow-men appears to them useless and selfish; but he who gives himself partially to them is pronounced a benefactor and philanthropist.
How does it become a
man to behave toward this American government today? I answer, that he cannot
without disgrace be associated with it. I cannot for an instant recognize
that political organization as my government which is the slave's government
also.
All men recognize the
right of revolution; that is, the right to refuse allegiance to, and to
resist, the government, when its tyranny or its inefficiency are great and
unendurable. But almost all say that such is not the case now. But such was
the case, they think, in the Revolution Of '75. If one were to tell me that
this was a bad government because it taxed certain foreign commodities
brought to its ports, it is most probable that I should not make an ado about
it, for I can do without them. All machines have their friction; and possibly
this does enough good to counterbalance the evil. At any rate, it is a great
evil to make a stir about it. But when the friction comes to have its
machine, and oppression and robbery are organized, I say, let us not have
such a machine any longer. In other words, when a sixth of the population of
a nation which has undertaken to be the refuge of liberty are slaves, and a
whole country is unjustly overrun and conquered by a foreign army, and
subjected to military law, I think that it is not too soon for honest men to
rebel and revolutionize. What makes this duty the more urgent is the fact
that the country so overrun is not our own, but ours is the invading army.
Paley, a common
authority with many on moral questions, in his chapter on the "Duty of
Submission to Civil Government," resolves all civil obligation into
expediency; and he proceeds to say that "so long as the interest of the
whole society requires it, that is, so long as the established government
cannot be resisted or changed without public inconveniency, it is the will of
God... that the established government be obeyed- and no longer. This
principle being admitted, the justice of every particular case of resistance
is reduced to a computation of the quantity of the danger and grievance on
the one side, and of the probability and expense of redressing it on the
other." Of this, he says, every man shall judge for himself. But Paley
appears never to have contemplated those cases to which the rule of
expediency does not apply, in which a people, as well as an individual, must
do justice, cost what it may. If I have unjustly wrested a plank from a
drowning man, I must restore it to him though I drown myself. This, according
to Paley, would be inconvenient. But he that would save his life, in such a
case, shall lose it. This people must cease to hold slaves, and to make war
on Mexico, though it cost them their existence as a people.
In their practice,
nations agree with Paley; but does any one think that Massachusetts does
exactly what is right at the present crisis?
"A drab of state, a cloth-o'-silver slut,
To have her train borne up, and her soul trail in the
dirt."
Practically speaking,
the opponents to a reform in Massachusetts are not a hundred thousand
politicians at the South, but a hundred thousand merchants and farmers here,
who are more interested in commerce and agriculture than they are in
humanity, and are not prepared to do justice to the slave and to Mexico, cost
what it may. I quarrel not with far-off foes, but with those who, near at
home, cooperate with, and do the bidding of those far away, and without whom
the latter would be harmless. We are accustomed to say, that the mass of men
are unprepared; but improvement is slow, because the few are not materially
wiser or better than the many. It is not so important that many should be as
good as you, as that there be some absolute goodness somewhere; for that will
leaven the whole lump. There are thousands who are in opinion opposed to
slavery and to the war, who yet in effect do nothing to put an end to them;
who, esteeming themselves children of Washington and Franklin, sit down with
their hands in their pockets, and say that they know not what to do, and do nothing;
who even postpone the question of freedom to the question of free trade, and
quietly read the prices-current along with the latest advices from Mexico,
after dinner, and, it may be, fall asleep over them both. What is the
price-current of an honest man and patriot today? They hesitate, and they
regret, and sometimes they petition; but they do nothing in earnest and with
effect. They will wait, well disposed, for others to remedy the evil, that
they may no longer have it to regret. At most, they give only a cheap vote,
and a feeble countenance and God-speed, to the right, as it goes by them.
There are nine hundred and ninety-nine patrons of virtue to one virtuous man.
But it is easier to deal with the real possessor of a thing than with the
temporary guardian of it.
All voting is a sort
of gaming, like checkers or backgammon, with a slight moral tinge to it, a
playing with right and wrong, with moral questions; and betting naturally
accompanies it. The character of the voters is not staked. I cast my vote,
perchance, as I think right; but I am not vitally concerned that that right
should prevail. I am willing to leave it to the majority. Its obligation,
therefore, never exceeds that of expediency. Even voting for the right is
doing nothing for it. It is only expressing to men feebly your desire that it
should prevail. A wise man will not leave the right to the mercy of chance,
nor wish it to prevail through the power of the majority. There is but little
virtue in the action of masses of men. When the majority shall at length vote
for the abolition of slavery, it will be because they are indifferent to
slavery, or because there is but little slavery left to be abolished by their
vote. They will then be the only slaves. Only his vote can hasten the abolition
of slavery who asserts his own freedom by his vote.
I hear of a convention
to be held at Baltimore, or elsewhere, for the selection of a candidate for
the Presidency, made up chiefly of editors, and men who are politicians by
profession; but I think, what is it to any independent, intelligent, and
respectable man what decision they may come to? Shall we not have the
advantage of his wisdom and honesty, nevertheless? Can we not count upon some
independent votes? Are there not many individuals in the country who do not
attend conventions? But no: I find that the respectable man, so called, has
immediately drifted from his position, and despairs of his country, when his
country has more reason to despair of him. He forthwith adopts one of the
candidates thus selected as the only available one, thus proving that he is
himself available for any purposes of the demagogue. His vote is of no more
worth than that of any unprincipled foreigner or hireling native, who may
have been bought. O for a man who is a man, and, as my neighbor says, has a
bone in his back which you cannot pass your hand through! Our statistics are
at fault: the population has been returned too large. How many men are there
to a square thousand miles in this country? Hardly one. Does not America
offer any inducement for men to settle here? The American has dwindled into
an Odd Fellow-one who may be known by the development of his organ of
gregariousness, and a manifest lack of intellect and cheerful self-reliance;
whose first and chief concern, on coming into the world, is to see that the
almshouses are in good repair; and, before yet he has lawfully donned the
virile garb, to collect a fund for the support of the widows and orphans that
may be; who, in short, ventures to live only by the aid of the Mutual
Insurance company, which has promised to bury him decently.
It is not a man's
duty, as a matter of course, to devote himself to the eradication of any,
even the most enormous, wrong; he may still properly have other concerns to
engage him; but it is his duty, at least, to wash his hands of it, and, if he
gives it no thought longer, not to give it practically his support. If I
devote myself to other pursuits and contemplations, I must first see, at
least, that I do not pursue them sitting upon another man's shoulders. I must
get off him first, that he may pursue his contemplations too. See what gross
inconsistency is tolerated. I have heard some of my townsmen say, "I
should like to have them order me out to help put down an insurrection of the
slaves, or to march to Mexico;- see if I would go"; and yet these very
men have each, directly by their allegiance, and so indirectly, at least, by
their money, furnished a substitute. The soldier is applauded who refuses to
serve in an unjust war by those who do not refuse to sustain the unjust
government which makes the war; is applauded by those whose own act and
authority he disregards and sets at naught; as if the state were penitent to
that degree that it differed one to scourge it while it sinned, but not to
that degree that it left off sinning for a moment. Thus, under the name of
Order and Civil Government, we are all made at last to pay homage to and
support our own meanness. After the first blush of sin comes its
indifference; and from immoral it becomes, as it were, unmoral, and not quite
unnecessary to that life which we have made.
The broadest and most
prevalent error requires the most disinterested virtue to sustain it. The
slight reproach to which the virtue of patriotism is commonly liable, the noble
are most likely to incur. Those who, while they disapprove of the character
and measures of a government, yield to it their allegiance and support are
undoubtedly its most conscientious supporters, and so frequently the most
serious obstacles to reform. Some are petitioning the State to dissolve the
Union, to disregard the requisitions of the President. Why do they not
dissolve it themselves- the union between themselves and the State- and
refuse to pay their quota into its treasury? Do not they stand in the same
relation to the State that the State does to the Union? And have not the same
reasons prevented the State from resisting the Union which have prevented
them from resisting the State?
How can a man be
satisfied to entertain an opinion merely, and enjoy it? Is there any
enjoyment in it, if his opinion is that he is aggrieved? If you are cheated
out of a single dollar by your neighbor, you do not rest satisfied with
knowing that you are cheated, or with saying that you are cheated, or even
with petitioning him to pay you your due; but you take effectual steps at
once to obtain the full amount, and see that you are never cheated again.
Action from principle, the perception and the performance of right, changes
things and relations; it is essentially revolutionary, and does not consist
wholly with anything which was. It not only divides States and churches, it
divides families; ay, it divides the individual, separating the diabolical in
him from the divine.
Unjust laws exist:
shall we be content to obey them, or shall we endeavor to amend them, and
obey them until we have succeeded, or shall we transgress them at once? Men
generally, under such a government as this, think that they ought to wait
until they have persuaded the majority to alter them. They think that, if
they should resist, the remedy would be worse than the evil. But it is the
fault of the government itself that the remedy is worse than the evil. It
makes it worse. Why is it not more apt to anticipate and provide for reform?
Why does it not cherish its wise minority? Why does it cry and resist before
it is hurt? Why does it not encourage its citizens to be on the alert to
point out its faults, and do better than it would have them? Why does it
always crucify Christ, and excommunicate Copernicus and Luther, and pronounce
Washington and Franklin rebels?
One would think, that
a deliberate and practical denial of its authority was the only offence never
contemplated by government; else, why has it not assigned its definite, its
suitable and proportionate, penalty? If a man who has no property refuses but
once to earn nine shillings for the State, he is put in prison for a period
unlimited by any law that I know, and determined only by the discretion of
those who placed him there; but if he should steal ninety times nine
shillings from the State, he is soon permitted to go at large again.
If the injustice is
part of the necessary friction of the machine of government, let it go, let
it go: perchance it will wear smooth- certainly the machine will wear out. If
the injustice has a spring, or a pulley, or a rope, or a crank, exclusively
for itself, then perhaps you may consider whether the remedy will not be
worse than the evil; but if it is of such a nature that it requires you to be
the agent of injustice to another, then, I say, break the law. Let your life
be a counter-friction to stop the machine. What I have to do is to see, at
any rate, that I do not lend myself to the wrong which I condemn.
As for adopting the
ways which the State has provided for remedying the evil, I know not of such
ways. They take too much time, and a man's life will be gone. I have other
affairs to attend to. I came into this world, not chiefly to make this a good
place to live in, but to live in it, be it good or bad. A man has not
everything to do, but something; and because he cannot do everything, it is
not necessary that he should do something wrong. It is not my business to be
petitioning the Governor or the Legislature any more than it is theirs to
petition me; and if they should not bear my petition, what should I do then?
But in this case the State has provided no way: its very Constitution is the
evil. This may seem to be harsh and stubborn and unconciliatory; but it is to
treat with the utmost kindness and consideration the only spirit that can
appreciate or deserves it. So is an change for the better, like birth and
death, which convulse the body.
I do not hesitate to
say, that those who call themselves Abolitionists should at once effectually
withdraw their support, both in person and property, from the government of
Massachusetts, and not wait till they constitute a majority of one, before
they suffer the right to prevail through them. I think that it is enough if
they have God on their side, without waiting for that other one. Moreover,
any man more right than his neighbors constitutes a majority of one already.
I meet this American
government, or its representative, the State government, directly, and face
to face, once a year- no more- in the person of its tax-gatherer; this is the
only mode in which a man situated as I am necessarily meets it; and it then
says distinctly, Recognize me; and the simplest, the most effectual, and, in
the present posture of affairs, the indispensablest mode of treating with it
on this head, of expressing your little satisfaction with and love for it, is
to deny it then. My civil neighbor, the tax-gatherer, is the very man I have
to deal with- for it is, after all, with men and not with parchment that I
quarrel- and he has voluntarily chosen to be an agent of the government. How
shall he ever know well what he is and does as an officer of the government,
or as a man, until he is obliged to consider whether he shall treat me, his
neighbor, for whom he has respect, as a neighbor and well-disposed man, or as
a maniac and disturber of the peace, and see if he can get over this
obstruction to his neighborliness without a ruder and more impetuous thought
or speech corresponding with his action. I know this well, that if one
thousand, if one hundred, if ten men whom I could name- if ten honest men
only- ay, if one HONEST man, in this State of Massachusetts, ceasing to hold
slaves, were actually to withdraw from this copartnership, and be locked up
in the county jail therefor, it would be the abolition of slavery in America.
For it matters not how small the beginning may seem to be: what is once well
done is done forever. But we love better to talk about it: that we say is our
mission, Reform keeps many scores of newspapers in its service, but not one
man. If my esteemed neighbor, the State's ambassador, who will devote his
days to the settlement of the question of human rights in the Council
Chamber, instead of being threatened with the prisons of Carolina, were to
sit down the prisoner of Massachusetts, that State which is so anxious to
foist the sin of slavery upon her sister- though at present she can discover
only an act of inhospitality to be the ground of a quarrel with her- the
Legislature would not wholly waive the subject the following winter.
Under a government
which imprisons any unjustly, the true place for a just man is also a prison.
The proper place today, the only place which Massachusetts has provided for
her freer and less desponding spirits, is in her prisons, to be put out and
locked out of the State by her own act, as they have already put themselves
out by their principles. It is there that the fugitive slave, and the Mexican
prisoner on parole, and the Indian come to plead the wrongs of his race
should find them; on that separate, but more free and honorable, ground,
where the State places those who are not with her, but against her- the only
house in a slave State in which a free man can abide with honor. If any think
that their influence would be lost there, and their voices no longer afflict
the ear of the State, that they would not be as an enemy within its walls,
they do not know by how much truth is stronger than error, nor how much more
eloquently and effectively he can combat injustice who has experienced a
little in his own person. Cast your whole vote, not a strip of paper merely,
but your whole influence. A minority is powerless while it conforms to the
majority; it is not even a minority then; but it is irresistible when it
clogs by its whole weight. If the alternative is to keep all just men in
prison, or give up war and slavery, the State will not hesitate which to
choose. If a thousand men were not to pay their tax-bills this year, that
would not be a violent and bloody measure, as it would be to pay them, and enable
the State to commit violence and shed innocent blood. This is, in fact, the
definition of a peaceable revolution, if any such is possible. If the
tax-gatherer, or any other public officer, asks me, as one has done,
"But what shall I do?" my answer is, "If you really wish to do
anything, resign your office." When the subject has refused allegiance,
and the officer has resigned his office, then the revolution is accomplished.
But even suppose blood should flow. Is there not a sort of blood shed when
the conscience is wounded? Through this wound a man's real manhood and
immortality flow out, and he bleeds to an everlasting death. I see this blood
flowing now.
I have contemplated
the imprisonment of the offender, rather than the seizure of his goods-
though both will serve the same purpose- because they who assert the purest
right, and consequently are most dangerous to a corrupt State, commonly have
not spent much time in accumulating property. To such the State renders
comparatively small service, and a slight tax is wont to appear exorbitant,
particularly if they are obliged to earn it by special labor with their
hands. If there were one who lived wholly without the use of money, the State
itself would hesitate to demand it of him. But the rich man- not to make any
invidious comparison- is always sold to the institution which makes him rich.
Absolutely speaking, the more money, the less virtue; for money comes between
a man and his objects, and obtains them for him; and it was certainly no
great virtue to obtain it. It puts to rest many questions which he would
otherwise be taxed to answer; while the only new question which it puts is
the hard but superfluous one, how to spend it. Thus his moral ground is taken
from under his feet. The opportunities of living are diminished in proportion
as what are called the "means" are increased. The best thing a man
can do for his culture when he is rich is to endeavor to carry out those
schemes which he entertained when he was poor. Christ answered the Herodians
according to their condition. "Show me the tribute-money," said
he;- and one took a penny out of his pocket;- if you use money which has the
image of Caesar on it, and which he has made current and valuable, that is,
if you are men of the State, and gladly enjoy the advantages of Caesar's
government, then pay him back some of his own when he demands it.
"Render therefore to Caesar that which is Caesar's, and to God those
things which are God's"- leaving them no wiser than before as to which
was which; for they did not wish to know.
When I converse with
the freest of my neighbors, I perceive that, whatever they may say about the
magnitude and seriousness of the question, and their regard for the public
tranquillity, the long and the short of the matter is, that they cannot spare
the protection of the existing government, and they dread the consequences to
their property and families of disobedience to it. For my own part, I should
not like to think that I ever rely on the protection of the State. But, if I
deny the authority of the State when it presents its tax-bill, it will soon
take and waste all my property, and so harass me and my children without end.
This is hard. This makes it impossible for a man to live honestly, and at the
same time comfortably, in outward respects. It will not be worth the while to
accumulate property; that would be sure to go again. You must hire or squat
somewhere, and raise but a small crop, and eat that soon. You must live
within yourself, and depend upon yourself always tucked up and ready for a
start, and not have many affairs. A man may grow rich in Turkey even, if he
will be in all respects a good subject of the Turkish government. Confucius
said: "If a state is governed by the principles of reason, poverty and
misery are subjects of shame; if a state is not governed by the principles of
reason, riches and honors are the subjects of shame." No: until I want
the protection of Massachusetts to be extended to me in some distant Southern
port, where my liberty is endangered, or until I am bent solely on building
up an estate at home by peaceful enterprise, I can afford to refuse
allegiance to Massachusetts, and her right to my property and life. It costs
me less in every sense to incur the penalty of disobedience to the State than
it would to obey. I should feel as if I were worth less in that case.
Some years ago, the
State met me in behalf of the Church, and commanded me to pay a certain sum
toward the support of a clergyman whose preaching my father attended, but
never I myself. "Pay," it said, "or be locked up in the
jail." I declined to pay. But, unfortunately, another man saw fit to pay
it. I did not see why the schoolmaster should be taxed to support the priest,
and not the priest the schoolmaster; for I was not the State's schoolmaster,
but I supported myself by voluntary subscription. I did not see why the
lyceum should not present its tax-bill, and have the State to back its
demand, as well as the Church. However, at the request of the selectmen, I
condescended to make some such statement as this in writing:- "Know all
men by these presents, that I, Henry Thoreau, do not wish to be regarded as a
member of any incorporated society which I have not joined." This I gave
to the town clerk; and he has it. The State, having thus learned that I did
not wish to be regarded as a member of that church, has never made a like
demand on me since; though it said that it must adhere to its original
presumption that time. If I had known how to name them, I should then have
signed off in detail from all the societies which I never signed on to; but I
did not know where to find a complete list.
I have paid no
poll-tax for six years. I was put into a jail once on this account, for one
night; and, as I stood considering the walls of solid stone, two or three
feet thick, the door of wood and iron, a foot thick, and the iron grating
which strained the light, I could not help being struck with the foolishness
of that institution which treated me as if I were mere flesh and blood and
bones, to be locked up. I wondered that it should have concluded at length
that this was the best use it could put me to, and had never thought to avail
itself of my services in some way. I saw that, if there was a wall of stone
between me and my townsmen, there was a still more difficult one to climb or
break through before they could get to be as free as I was. I did not for a
moment feel confined, and the walls seemed a great waste of stone and mortar.
I felt as if I alone of all my townsmen had paid my tax. They plainly did not
know how to treat me, but behaved like persons who are underbred. In every
threat and in every compliment there was a blunder; for they thought that my
chief desire was to stand the other side of that stone wall. I could not but
smile to see how industriously they locked the door on my meditations, which
followed them out again without let or hindrance, and they were really all
that was dangerous. As they could not reach me, they had resolved to punish
my body; just as boys, if they cannot come at some person against whom they
have a spite, will abuse his dog. I saw that the State was half-witted, that
it was timid as a lone woman with her silver spoons, and that it did not know
its friends from its foes, and I lost all my remaining respect for it, and
pitied it.
Thus the State never
intentionally confronts a man's sense, intellectual or moral, but only his
body, his senses. It is not armed with superior wit or honesty, but with
superior physical strength. I was not born to be forced. I will breathe after
my own fashion. Let us see who is the strongest. What force has a multitude?
They only can force me who obey a higher law than I. They force me to become
like themselves. I do not hear of men being forced to have this way or that
by masses of men. What sort of life were that to live? When I meet a
government which says to me, "Your money or your life," why should
I be in haste to give it my money? It may be in a great strait, and not know
what to do: I cannot help that. It must help itself; do as I do. It is not
worth the while to snivel about it. I am not responsible for the successful
working of the machinery of society. I am not the son of the engineer. I
perceive that, when an acorn and a chestnut fall side by side, the one does
not remain inert to make way for the other, but both obey their own laws, and
spring and grow and flourish as best they can, till one, perchance,
overshadows and destroys the other. If a plant cannot live according to its
nature, it dies; and so a man.
The night in prison
was novel and interesting enough. The prisoners in their shirt-sleeves were
enjoying a chat and the evening air in the doorway, when I entered. But the
jailer said, "Come, boys, it is time to lock up"; and so they
dispersed, and I heard the sound of their steps returning into the hollow
apartments. My room-mate was introduced to me by the jailer as "a
first-rate fellow and a clever man." When the door was locked, he showed
me where to hang my hat, and how he managed matters there. The rooms were
whitewashed once a month; and this one, at least, was the whitest, most
simply furnished, and probably the neatest apartment in the town. He
naturally wanted to know where I came from, and what brought me there; and,
when I had told him, I asked him in my turn how he came there, presuming him
to be an honest man, of course; and, as the world goes, I believe he was.
"Why," said he, "they accuse me of burning a barn; but I never
did it." As near as I could discover, he had probably gone to bed in a
barn when drunk, and smoked his pipe there; and so a barn was burnt. He had
the reputation of being a clever man, had been there some three months
waiting for his trial to come on, and would have to wait as much longer; but
he was quite domesticated and contented, since he got his board for nothing,
and thought that he was well treated.
He occupied one
window, and I the other; and I saw that if one stayed there long, his
principal business would be to look out the window. I had soon read all the
tracts that were left there, and examined where former prisoners had broken
out, and where a grate had been sawed off, and heard the history of the
various occupants of that room; for I found that even here there was a
history and a gossip which never circulated beyond the walls of the jail.
Probably this is the only house in the town where verses are composed, which
are afterward printed in a circular form, but not published. I was shown
quite a long list of verses which were composed by some young men who had
been detected in an attempt to escape, who avenged themselves by singing
them.
I pumped my
fellow-prisoner as dry as I could, for fear I should never see him again; but
at length he showed me which was my bed, and left me to blow out the lamp.
It was like travelling
into a far country, such as I had never expected to behold, to lie there for
one night. It seemed to me that I never had heard the town clock strike
before, nor the evening sounds of the village; for we slept with the windows
open, which were inside the grating. It was to see my native village in the
light of the Middle Ages, and our Concord was turned into a Rhine stream, and
visions of knights and castles passed before me. They were the voices of old
burghers that I heard in the streets. I was an involuntary spectator and
auditor of whatever was done and said in the kitchen of the adjacent village
inn- a wholly new and rare experience to me. It was a closer view of my
native town. I was fairly inside of it. I never had seen its institutions
before. This is one of its peculiar institutions; for it is a shire town. I
began to comprehend what its inhabitants were about.
In the morning, our
breakfasts were put through the hole in the door, in small oblong-square tin
pans, made to fit, and holding a pint of chocolate, with brown bread, and an
iron spoon. When they called for the vessels again, I was green enough to
return what bread I had left; but my comrade seized it, and said that I
should lay that up for lunch or dinner. Soon after he was let out to work at
haying in a neighboring field, whither he went every day, and would not be
back till noon; so he bade me good-day, saying that he doubted if he should
see me again.
When I came out of
prison- for some one interfered, and paid that tax- I did not perceive that
great changes had taken place on the common, such as he observed who went in
a youth and emerged a tottering and gray-headed man; and yet a change had to
my eyes come over the scene- the town, and State, and country- greater than
any that mere time could effect. I saw yet more distinctly the State in which
I lived. I saw to what extent the people among whom I lived could be trusted
as good neighbors and friends; that their friendship was for summer weather
only; that they did not greatly propose to do right; that they were a distinct
race from me by their prejudices and superstitions, as the Chinamen and
Malays are; that in their sacrifices to humanity they ran no risks, not even
to their property; that after all they were not so noble but they treated the
thief as he had treated them, and hoped, by a certain outward observance and
a few prayers, and by walking in a particular straight though useless path
from time to time, to save their souls. This may be to judge my neighbors
harshly; for I believe that many of them are not aware that they have such an
institution as the jail in their village.
It was formerly the
custom in our village, when a poor debtor came out of jail, for his
acquaintances to salute him, looking through their fingers, which were
crossed to represent the grating of a jail window, "How do ye do?"
My neighbors did not thus salute me, but first looked at me, and then at one
another, as if I had returned from a long journey. I was put into jail as I
was going to the shoemaker's to get a shoe which was mended. When I was let
out the next morning, I proceeded to finish my errand, and, having put on my
mended shoe, joined a huckleberry party, who were impatient to put themselves
under my conduct; and in half an hour- for the horse was soon tackled- was in
the midst of a huckleberry field, on one of our highest hills, two miles off,
and then the State was nowhere to be seen.
This is the whole
history of "My Prisons."
I have never declined
paying the highway tax, because I am as desirous of being a good neighbor as
I am of being a bad subject; and as for supporting schools, I am doing my
part to educate my fellow-countrymen now. It is for no particular item in the
tax-bill that I refuse to pay it. I simply wish to refuse allegiance to the
State, to withdraw and stand aloof from it effectually. I do not care to
trace the course of my dollar, if I could, till it buys a man or a musket to
shoot one with- the dollar is innocent- but I am concerned to trace the
effects of my allegiance. In fact, I quietly declare war with the State,
after my fashion, though I will still make what use and get what advantage of
her I can, as is usual in such cases.
If others pay the tax
which is demanded of me, from a sympathy with the State, they do but what
they have already done in their own case, or rather they abet injustice to a
greater extent than the State requires. If they pay the tax from a mistaken
interest in the individual taxed, to save his property, or prevent his going
to jail, it is because they have not considered wisely how far they let their
private feelings interfere with the public good.
This, then, is my
position at present. But one cannot be too much on his guard in such a case,
lest his action be biased by obstinacy or an undue regard for the opinions of
men. Let him see that he does only what belongs to himself and to the hour.
I think sometimes,
Why, this people mean well, they are only ignorant; they would do better if
they knew how: why give your neighbors this pain to treat you as they are not
inclined to? But I think again, This is no reason why I should do as they do,
or permit others to suffer much greater pain of a different kind. Again, I
sometimes say to myself, When many millions of men, without heat, without ill
will, without personal feeling of any kind, demand of you a few shillings
only, without the possibility, such is their constitution, of retracting or
altering their present demand, and without the possibility, on your side, of
appeal to any other millions, why expose yourself to this overwhelming brute
force? You do not resist cold and hunger, the winds and the waves, thus
obstinately; you quietly submit to a thousand similar necessities. You do not
put your head into the fire. But just in proportion as I regard this as not
wholly a brute force, but partly a human force, and consider that I have
relations to those millions as to so many millions of men, and not of mere
brute or inanimate things, I see that appeal is possible, first and
instantaneously, from them to the Maker of them, and, secondly, from them to themselves.
But if I put my head deliberately into the fire, there is no appeal to fire
or to the Maker of fire, and I have only myself to blame. If I could convince
myself that I have any right to be satisfied with men as they are, and to
treat them accordingly, and not according, in some respects, to my
requisitions and expectations of what they and I ought to be, then, like a
good Mussulman and fatalist, I should endeavor to be satisfied with things as
they are, and say it is the will of God. And, above all, there is this
difference between resisting this and a purely brute or natural force, that I
can resist this with some effect; but I cannot expect, like Orpheus, to
change the nature of the rocks and trees and beasts.
I do not wish to
quarrel with any man or nation. I do not wish to split hairs, to make fine
distinctions, or set myself up as better than my neighbors. I seek rather, I
may say, even an excuse for conforming to the laws of the land. I am but too
ready to conform to them. Indeed, I have reason to suspect myself on this
head; and each year, as the tax-gatherer comes round, I find myself disposed
to review the acts and position of the general and State governments, and the
spirit of the people, to discover a pretext for conformity.
"We must affect our country as our parents,
And if at any time we alienate
Our love or industry from doing it honor,
We must respect effects and teach the soul
Matter of conscience and religion,
And not desire of rule or benefit."
I believe that the
State will soon be able to take all my work of this sort out of my hands, and
then I shall be no better a patriot than my fellow-countrymen. Seen from a
lower point of view, the Constitution, with all its faults, is very good; the
law and the courts are very respectable; even this State and this American
government are, in many respects, very admirable, and rare things, to be
thankful for, such as a great many have described them; but seen from a point
of view a little higher, they are what I have described them; seen from a
higher still, and the highest, who shall say what they are, or that they are
worth looking at or thinking of at all?
However, the
government does not concern me much, and I shall bestow the fewest possible
thoughts on it. It is not many moments that I live under a government, even
in this world. If a man is thought-free, fancy-free, imagination-free, that
which is not never for a long time appearing to be to him, unwise rulers or
reformers cannot fatally interrupt him.
I know that most men
think differently from myself; but those whose lives are by profession
devoted to the study of these or kindred subjects content me as little as
any. Statesmen and legislators, standing so completely within the
institution, never distinctly and nakedly behold it. They speak of moving
society, but have no resting-place without it. They may be men of a certain
experience and discrimination, and have no doubt invented ingenious and even
useful systems, for which we sincerely thank them; but all their wit and
usefulness lie within certain not very wide limits. They are wont to forget
that the world is not governed by policy and expediency. Webster never goes
behind government, and so cannot speak with authority about it. His words are
wisdom to those legislators who contemplate no essential reform in the
existing government; but for thinkers, and those who legislate for all time,
he never once glances at the subject. I know of those whose serene and wise
speculations on this theme would soon reveal the limits of his mind's range
and hospitality. Yet, compared with the cheap professions of most reformers,
and the still cheaper wisdom and eloquence of politicians in general, his are
almost the only sensible and valuable words, and we thank Heaven for him.
Comparatively, he is always strong, original, and, above all, practical.
Still, his quality is not wisdom, but prudence. The lawyer's truth is not
Truth, but consistency or a consistent expediency. Truth is always in harmony
with herself, and is not concerned chiefly to reveal the justice that may
consist with wrong-doing. He well deserves to be called, as he has been
called, the Defender of the Constitution. There are really no blows to be
given by him but defensive ones. He is not a leader, but a follower. His
leaders are the men of '87- "I have never made an effort," he says,
"and never propose to make an effort; I have never countenanced an
effort, and never mean to countenance an effort, to disturb the arrangement
as originally made, by which the various States came into the Union."
Still thinking of the sanction which the Constitution gives to slavery, he
says, "Because it was a part of the original compact- let it
stand." Notwithstanding his special acuteness and ability, he is unable
to take a fact out of its merely political relations, and behold it as it
lies absolutely to be disposed of by the intellect- what, for instance, it
behooves a man to do here in America today with regard to slavery- but
ventures, or is driven, to make some such desperate answer as the following,
while professing to speak absolutely, and as a private man- from which what
new and singular code of social duties might be inferred? "The
manner," says he, "in which the governments of those States where
slavery exists are to regulate it is for their own consideration, under their
responsibility to their constituents, to the general laws of propriety,
humanity, and justice, and to God. Associations formed elsewhere, springing
from a feeling of humanity, or any other cause, have nothing whatever to do with
it. They have never received any encouragement from me, and they never
will."
They who know of no
purer sources of truth, who have traced up its stream no higher, stand, and
wisely stand, by the Bible and the Constitution, and drink at it there with
reverence and humility; but they who behold where it comes trickling into
this lake or that pool, gird up their loins once more, and continue their
pilgrimage toward its fountain-head.
No man with a genius
for legislation has appeared in America. They are rare in the history of the
world. There are orators, politicians, and eloquent men, by the thousand; but
the speaker has not yet opened his mouth to speak who is capable of settling
the much-vexed questions of the day. We love eloquence for its own sake, and
not for any truth which it may utter, or any heroism it may inspire. Our
legislators have not yet learned the comparative value of free trade and of
freedom, of union, and of rectitude, to a nation. They have no genius or
talent for comparatively humble questions of taxation and finance, commerce
and manufactures and agriculture. If we were left solely to the wordy wit of
legislators in Congress for our guidance, uncorrected by the seasonable
experience and the effectual complaints of the people, America would not long
retain her rank among the nations. For eighteen hundred years, though
perchance I have no right to say it, the New Testament has been written; yet
where is the legislator who has wisdom and practical talent enough to avail
himself of the light which it sheds on the science of legislation?
The authority of
government, even such as I am willing to submit to- for I will cheerfully
obey those who know and can do better than I, and in many things even those
who neither know nor can do so well- is still an impure one: to be strictly
just, it must have the sanction and consent of the governed. It can have no
pure right over my person and property but what I concede to it. The progress
from an absolute to a limited monarchy, from a limited monarchy to a democracy,
is a progress toward a true respect for the individual. Even the Chinese
philosopher was wise enough to regard the individual as the basis of the
empire. Is a democracy, such as we know it, the last improvement possible in
government? Is it not possible to take a step further towards recognizing and
organizing the rights of man? There will never be a really free and
enlightened State until the State comes to recognize the individual as a
higher and independent power, from which all its own power and authority are
derived, and treats him accordingly. I please myself with imagining a State
at least which can afford to be just to all men, and to treat the individual
with respect as a neighbor; which even would not think it inconsistent with
its own repose if a few were to live aloof from it, not meddling with it, nor
embraced by it, who fulfilled all the duties of neighbors and fellow-men. A
State which bore this kind of fruit, and suffered it to drop off as fast as
it ripened, would prepare the way for a still more perfect and glorious
State, which also I have imagined, but not yet anywhere seen !
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