Public-domain original
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,” it said,
“or be locked up in the jail.” I declined to pay. But, unfortunately,
another man saw fit to pay it. I did not see why the schoolmaster
should be taxed to support the priest, and not the priest the
schoolmaster; for I was not the State’s schoolmaster, but I supported
myself by voluntary subscription. I did not see why the lyceum should
not present its tax-bill, and have the State to back its demand, as
well as the church. However, at the request of the selectmen, I
condescended to make some such statement as this in writing:—“Know all
men by these presents, that I, Henry Thoreau, do not wish to be
regarded as a member of any incorporated society which I have not
joined.” This I gave to the town-clerk; and he has it. The State,
having thus learned that I did not wish to be regarded as a member of
that church, has never made a like demand on me since; though it said
that it must adhere to its original presumption that time. If I had
known how to name them, I should then have signed off in detail from
all the societies which I never signed on to; but I did not know where
to find such a complete list.
I have paid no poll-tax for six years. I was put into a jail once on
this account, for one night; and, as I stood considering the walls of
solid stone, two or three feet thick, the door of wood and iron, a foot
thick, and the iron grating which strained the light, I could not help
being struck with the foolishness of that institution which treated me
as if I were mere flesh and blood and bones, to be locked up. I
wondered that it should have concluded at length that this was the best
use it could put me to, and had never thought to avail itself of my
services in some way. I saw that, if there was a wall of stone between
me and my townsmen, there was a still more difficult one to climb or
break through, before they could get to be as free as I was. I did nor
for a moment feel confined, and the walls seemed a great waste of stone
and mortar. I felt as if I alone of all my townsmen had paid my tax.
They plainly did not know how to treat me, but behaved like persons who
are underbred. In every threat and in every compliment there was a
blunder; for they thought that my chief desire was to stand the other
side of that stone wall. I could not but smile to see how industriously
they locked the door on my meditations, which followed them out again
without let or hindrance, and _they_ were really all that was
dangerous. As they could not reach me, they had resolved to punish my
body; just as boys, if they cannot come at some person against whom
they have a spite, will abuse his dog. I saw that the State was
half-witted, that it was timid as a lone woman with her silver spoons,
and that it did not know its friends from its foes, and I lost all my
remaining respect for it, and pitied it.
Thus the state never intentionally confronts a man’s sense,
intellectual or moral, but only his body, his senses. It is not armed
with superior wit or honesty, but with superior physical strength. I
was not born to be forced. I will breathe after my own fashion. Let us
see who is the strongest. What force has a multitude? They only can
force me who obey a higher law than I. They force me to become like
themselves. I do not hear of _men_ being _forced_ to live this way or
that by masses of men. What sort of life were that to live? When I meet
a government which says to me, “Your money or your life,” why should I
be in haste to give it my money? It may be in a great strait, and not
know what to do: I cannot help that. It must help itself; do as I do.
It is not worth the while to snivel about it. I am not responsible for
the successful working of the machinery of society. I am not the son of
the engineer. I perceive that, when an acorn and a chestnut fall side
by side, the one does not remain inert to make way for the other, but
both obey their own laws, and spring and grow and flourish as best they
can, till one, perchance, overshadows and destroys the other. If a
plant cannot live according to 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
door-way, 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 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.