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Economy
When I wrote the following pages； or rather the bulk of them； I
lived alone； in the woods； a mile from any neighbor； in a house
which I had built myself； on the shore of Walden Pond； in Concord；
Massachusetts； and earned my living by the labor of my hands only。
I lived there two years and two months。 At present I am a sojourner
in civilized life again。
I should not obtrude my affairs so much on the notice of my
readers if very particular inquiries had not been made by my
townsmen concerning my mode of life； which some would call
impertinent； though they do not appear to me at all impertinent；
but； considering the circumstances； very natural and pertinent。
Some have asked what I got to eat； if I did not feel lonesome； if I
was not afraid； and the like。 Others have been curious to learn
what portion of my income I devoted to charitable purposes； and
some； who have large families； how many poor children I maintained。
I will therefore ask those of my readers who feel no particular
interest in me to pardon me if I undertake to answer some of these
questions in this book。 In most books； the I； or first person； is
omitted； in this it will be retained； that； in respect to egotism；
is the main difference。 We commonly do not remember that it is；
after all； always the first person that is speaking。 I should not
talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as
well。 Unfortunately； I am confined to this theme by the narrowness
of my experience。 Moreover； I； on my side； require of every writer；
first or last； a simple and sincere account of his own life； and not
merely what he has heard of other men's lives； some such account as
he would send to his kindred from a distant land； for if he has
lived sincerely； it must have been in a distant land to me。 Perhaps
these pages are more particularly addressed to poor students。 As
for the rest of my readers； they will accept such portions as apply
to them。 I trust that none will stretch the seams in putting on the
coat； for it may do good service to him whom it fits。
I would fain say something； not so much concerning the Chinese
and Sandwich Islanders as you who read these pages； who are said to
live in New England； something about your condition； especially your
outward condition or circumstances in this world； in this town； what
it is； whether it is necessary that it be as bad as it is； whether
it cannot be improved as well as not。 I have travelled a good deal
in Concord； and everywhere； in shops； and offices； and fields； the
inhabitants have appeared to me to be doing penance in a thousand
remarkable ways。 What I have heard of Bramins sitting exposed to
four fires and looking in the face of the sun； or hanging suspended；
with their heads downward； over flames； or looking at the heavens
over their shoulders 〃until it becomes impossible for them to resume
their natural position； while from the twist of the neck nothing but
liquids can pass into the stomach〃； or dwelling； chained for life；
at the foot of a tree； or measuring with their bodies； like
caterpillars； the breadth of vast empires； or standing on one leg on
the tops of pillars even these forms of conscious penance are
hardly more incredible and astonishing than the scenes which I daily
witness。 The twelve labors of Hercules were trifling in comparison
with those which my neighbors have undertaken； for they were only
twelve； and had an end； but I could never see that these men slew or
captured any monster or finished any labor。 They have no friend
Iolaus to burn with a hot iron the root of the hydra's head； but as
soon as one head is crushed； two spring up。
I see young men； my townsmen； whose misfortune it is to have
inherited farms； houses； barns； cattle； and farming tools； for these
are more easily acquired than got rid of。 Better if they had been
born in the open pasture and suckled by a wolf； that they might have
seen with clearer eyes what field they were called to labor in。 Who
made them serfs of the soil？ Why should they eat their sixty acres；
when man is condemned to eat only his peck of dirt？ Why should they
begin digging their graves as soon as they are born？ They have got
to live a man's life； pushing all these things before them； and get
on as well as they can。 How many a poor immortal soul have I met
well…nigh crushed and smothered under its load； creeping down the
road of life； pushing before it a barn seventy…five feet by forty；
its Augean stables never cleansed； and one hundred acres of land；
tillage； mowing； pasture； and woodlot！ The portionless； who
struggle with no such unnecessary inherited encumbrances； find it
labor enough to subdue and cultivate a few cubic feet of flesh。
But men labor under a mistake。 The better part of the man is
soon plowed into the soil for compost。 By a seeming fate； commonly
called necessity； they are employed； as it says in an old book；
laying up treasures which moth and rust will corrupt and thieves
break through and steal。 It is a fool's life； as they will find
when they get to the end of it； if not before。 It is said that
Deucalion and Pyrrha created men by throwing stones over their heads
behind them：
Inde genus durum sumus； experiensque laborum；
Et documenta damus qua simus origine nati。
Or； as Raleigh rhymes it in his sonorous way；
〃From thence our kind hard…hearted is； enduring pain and care；
Approving that our bodies of a stony nature are。〃
So much for a blind obedience to a blundering oracle； throwing the
stones over their heads behind them； and not seeing where they fell。
Most men； even in this comparatively free country； through mere
ignorance and mistake； are so occupied with the factitious cares and
superfluously coarse labors of life that its finer fruits cannot be
plucked by them。 Their fingers； from excessive toil； are too clumsy
and tremble too much for that。 Actually； the laboring man has not
leisure for a true integrity day by day； he cannot afford to sustain
the manliest relations to men； his labor would be depreciated in the
market。 He has no time to be anything but a machine。 How can he
remember well his ignorance which his growth requires who has
so often to use his knowledge？ We should feed and clothe him
gratuitously sometimes； and recruit him with our cordials； before we
judge of him。 The finest qualities of our nature； like the bloom on
fruits； can be preserved only by the most delicate handling。 Yet we
do not treat ourselves nor one another thus tenderly。
Some of you； we all know； are poor； find it hard to live； are
sometimes； as it were； gasping for breath。 I have no doubt that
some of you who read this book are unable to pay for all the dinners
which you have actually eaten； or for the coats and shoes which are
fast wearing or are already worn out； and have come to this page to
spend borrowed or stolen time； robbing your creditors of an hour。
It is very evident what mean and sneaking lives many of you live；
for my sight has been whetted by experience； always on the limits；
trying to get into business and trying to get out of debt； a very
ancient slough； called by the Latins aes alienum； another's brass；
for some of their coins were made of brass； still living； and dying；
and buried by this other's brass； always promising to pay； promising
to pay； tomorrow； and dying today； insolvent； seeking to curry
favor； to get custom； by how many modes； only not state…prison
offenses； lying； flattering； voting； contracting yourselves into a
nutshell of civility or dilating into an atmosphere of thin and
vaporous generosity； that you may persuade your neighbor to let you
make his shoes； or his hat； or his coat； or his carriage； or import
his groceries for him； making yourselves sick； that you may lay up
something against a sick day； something to be tucked away in an old
chest； or in a stocking behind the plastering； or； more safely； in
the brick bank； no matter where； no matter how much or how little。
I sometimes wonder that we can be so frivolous； I may almost
say； as to attend to the gross but somewhat foreign form of
servitude called Negro Slavery； there are so many keen and subtle
masters that enslave both North and South。 It is hard to have a
Southern overseer； it is worse to have a Northern one； but worst of
all when you are the slave…driver of yourself。 Talk of a divinity
in man！ Look at the teamster on the highway； wending to market by
day or night； does any divinity stir within him？ His highest duty
to fodder and water his horses！ What is his destiny to him compared
with the shipping interests？ Does not he drive for Squire
Make…a…stir？ How godlike； how immortal； is he？ See how he cowers
and sneaks； how vaguely all the day he fears； not being immortal nor
divine； but the slave and prisoner of his ow