chapter 1 - part 4economy as with our colleges, so with a hundred"modern improvements"; there is an illusion about them; there is not always a positiveadvance. the devil goes on exacting compoundinterest to the last for his early share and numerous succeeding investments inthem. our inventions are wont to be pretty toys,which distract our attention from serious things. they are but improved means to anunimproved end, an end which it was already but too easy to arrive at; as railroadslead to boston or new york.
we are in great haste to construct amagnetic telegraph from maine to texas; but maine and texas, it may be, have nothingimportant to communicate either is in such a predicament as the man who was earnest to be introduced to a distinguished deafwoman, but when he was presented, and one end of her ear trumpet was put into hishand, had nothing to say as if the main object were to talk fast and not to talk sensibly we are eager to tunnel under theatlantic and bring the old world some weeks nearer to the new; but perchance the firstnews that will leak through into the broad, flapping american ear will be that theprincess adelaide has the whooping cough.
after all, the man whose horse trots a milein a minute does not carry the most important messages; he is not anevangelist, nor does he come round eating locusts and wild honey i doubt if flying childers ever carried a peck of corn tomill. one says to me, "i wonder that you do notlay up money; you love to travel; you might take the cars and go to fitchburg today andsee the country" but i am wiser than that. i have learned that the swiftest travelleris he that goes afoot. i say to my friend, suppose we try who willget there first the distance is thirty miles; the fare ninety cents that isalmost a day's wages.
i remember when wages were sixty cents aday for laborers on this very road. well, i start now on foot, and get therebefore night; i have travelled at that rate by the week together you will in themeanwhile have earned your fare, and arrive there some time tomorrow, or possibly this evening, if you are lucky enough to get ajob in season. instead of going to fitchburg, you will beworking here the greater part of the day. and so, if the railroad reached round theworld, i think that i should keep ahead of you; and as for seeing the country andgetting experience of that kind, i should have to cut your acquaintance altogether.
such is the universal law, which no man canever outwit, and with regard to the railroad even we may say it is as broad asit is long. to make a railroad round the worldavailable to all mankind is equivalent to grading the whole surface of the planet. men have an indistinct notion that if theykeep up this activity of joint stocks and spades long enough all will at length ridesomewhere, in next to no time, and for nothing; but though a crowd rushes to the depot, and the conductor shouts "allaboard!" when the smoke is blown away and the vapor condensed, it will be perceivedthat a few are riding, but the rest are run
over--and it will be called, and will be,"a melancholy accident." no doubt they can ride at last who shallhave earned their fare, that is, if they survive so long, but they will probablyhave lost their elasticity and desire to travel by that time. this spending of the best part of one'slife earning money in order to enjoy a questionable liberty during the leastvaluable part of it reminds me of the englishman who went to india to make a fortune first, in order that he mightreturn to england and live the life of a poet.
he should have gone up garret at once"what!" exclaim a million irishmen starting up from all the shanties in the land, "isnot this railroad which we have built a good thing?" yes, i answer, comparatively good, that is,you might have done worse; but i wish, as you are brothers of mine, that you couldhave spent your time better than digging in this dirt. before i finished my house, wishing to earnten or twelve dollars by some honest and agreeable method, in order to meet myunusual expenses, i planted about two acres and a half of light and sandy soil near it
chiefly with beans, but also a small partwith potatoes, corn, peas, and turnips the whole lot contains eleven acres, mostlygrowing up to pines and hickories, and was sold the preceding season for eight dollars and eight cents an acre one farmer saidthat it was "good for nothing but to raise cheeping squirrels on." i put no manure whatever on this land, notbeing the owner, but merely a squatter, and not expecting to cultivate so much again,and i did not quite hoe it all once. i got out several cords of stumps inplowing, which supplied me with fuel for a long time, and left small circles of virginmould, easily distinguishable through the
summer by the greater luxuriance of the beans there the dead and for the most partunmerchantable wood behind my house, and the driftwood from the pond, have suppliedthe remainder of my fuel i was obliged to hire a team and a man for the plowing,though i held the plow myself. my farm outgoes for the first season were,for implements, seed, work, etc., $14.72- 1/2. the seed corn was given me this nevercosts anything to speak of, unless you plant more than enough i got twelvebushels of beans, and eighteen bushels of potatoes, beside some peas and sweet corn.
the yellow corn and turnips were too lateto come to anything my whole income from the farm was .$ 23.44deducting the outgoes 14.72-1/2 --------there are left $ 8.71-1/2 beside produce consumed and on hand at thetime this estimate was made of the value of $4.50--the amount on hand much more thanbalancing a little grass which i did not raise. all things considered, that is, consideringthe importance of a man's soul and of today, notwithstanding the short timeoccupied by my experiment, nay, partly even
because of its transient character, i believe that that was doing better than anyfarmer in concord did that year. the next year i did better still, for ispaded up all the land which i required, about a third of an acre, and i learnedfrom the experience of both years, not being in the least awed by many celebrated works on husbandry, arthur young among therest, that if one would live simply and eat only the crop which he raised, and raise nomore than he ate, and not exchange it for an insufficient quantity of more luxurious and expensive things, he would need tocultivate only a few rods of ground, and
that it would be cheaper to spade up thatthan to use oxen to plow it, and to select a fresh spot from time to time than to manure the old, and he could do all hisnecessary farm work as it were with his left hand at odd hours in the summer; andthus he would not be tied to an ox, or horse, or cow, or pig, as at present. i desire to speak impartially on thispoint, and as one not interested in the success or failure of the presenteconomical and social arrangements. i was more independent than any farmer inconcord, for i was not anchored to a house or farm, but could follow the bent of mygenius, which is a very crooked one, every
moment. beside being better off than they already,if my house had been burned or my crops had failed, i should have been nearly as welloff as before. i am wont to think that men are not so muchthe keepers of herds as herds are the keepers of men, the former are so much thefreer. men and oxen exchange work; but if weconsider necessary work only, the oxen will be seen to have greatly the advantage,their farm is so much the larger. man does some of his part of the exchangework in his six weeks of haying, and it is no boy's play.
certainly no nation that lived simply inall respects, that is, no nation of philosophers, would commit so great ablunder as to use the labor of animals. true, there never was and is not likelysoon to be a nation of philosophers, nor am i certain it is desirable that there shouldbe. however, i should never have broken a horseor bull and taken him to board for any work he might do for me, for fear i shouldbecome a horseman or a herdsman merely; and if society seems to be the gainer by so doing, are we certain that what is oneman's gain is not another's loss, and that the stable-boy has equal cause with hismaster to be satisfied?
granted that some public works would nothave been constructed without this aid, and let man share the glory of such with the oxand horse; does it follow that he could not have accomplished works yet more worthy ofhimself in that case? when men begin to do, not merelyunnecessary or artistic, but luxurious and idle work, with their assistance, it isinevitable that a few do all the exchange work with the oxen, or, in other words,become the slaves of the strongest. man thus not only works for the animalwithin him, but, for a symbol of this, he works for the animal without him. though we have many substantial houses ofbrick or stone, the prosperity of the
farmer is still measured by the degree towhich the barn overshadows the house. this town is said to have the largesthouses for oxen, cows, and horses hereabouts, and it is not behindhand in itspublic buildings; but there are very few halls for free worship or free speech inthis county. it should not be by their architecture, butwhy not even by their power of abstract thought, that nations should seek tocommemorate themselves? how much more admirable the bhagvat-geetathan all the ruins of the east! towers and temples are the luxury ofprinces. a simple and independent mind does not toilat the bidding of any prince.
genius is not a retainer to any emperor,nor is its material silver, or gold, or marble, except to a trifling extent. to what end, pray, is so much stonehammered? in arcadia, when i was there, i did not seeany hammering stone. nations are possessed with an insaneambition to perpetuate the memory of themselves by the amount of hammered stonethey leave. what if equal pains were taken to smoothand polish their manners? one piece of good sense would be morememorable than a monument as high as the moon.
i love better to see stones in place.the grandeur of thebes was a vulgar grandeur. more sensible is a rod of stone wall thatbounds an honest man's field than a hundred-gated thebes that has wanderedfarther from the true end of life. the religion and civilization which arebarbaric and heathenish build splendid temples; but what you might callchristianity does not. most of the stone a nation hammers goestoward its tomb only. it buries itself alive. as for the pyramids, there is nothing towonder at in them so much as the fact that
so many men could be found degraded enoughto spend their lives constructing a tomb for some ambitious booby, whom it would have been wiser and manlier to have drownedin the nile, and then given his body to the dogs.i might possibly invent some excuse for them and him, but i have no time for it. as for the religion and love of art of thebuilders, it is much the same all the world over, whether the building be an egyptiantemple or the united states bank. it costs more than it comes to. the mainspring is vanity, assisted by thelove of garlic and bread and butter.
mr. balcom, a promising young architect,designs it on the back of his vitruvius, with hard pencil and ruler, and the job islet out to dobson & sons, stonecutters. when the thirty centuries begin to lookdown on it, mankind begin to look up at it. as for your high towers and monuments,there was a crazy fellow once in this town who undertook to dig through to china, andhe got so far that, as he said, he heard the chinese pots and kettles rattle; but i think that i shall not go out of my way toadmire the hole which he made. many are concerned about the monuments ofthe west and the east--to know who built them.
for my part, i should like to know who inthose days did not build them--who were above such trifling.but to proceed with my statistics. by surveying, carpentry, and day-labor ofvarious other kinds in the village in the meanwhile, for i have as many trades asfingers, i had earned $13.34. the expense of food for eight months,namely, from july 4th to march 1st, the time when these estimates were made, thoughi lived there more than two years--not counting potatoes, a little green corn, and some peas, which i had raised, norconsidering the value of what was on hand at the last date--was
rice....................$ 1.73-1/2molasses................. 1.73 cheapest form of the saccharine.rye meal................. 1.04-3/4 indian meal.............. 0.99-3/4cheaper than rye. pork..................... 0.22all experiments which failed: flour.................... 0.88costs more than indian meal, both money and trouble.sugar.................... 0.80 lard..................... 0.65apples................... 0.25 dried apple.............. 0.22sweet potatoes........... 0.10 one pumpkin.............. 0.06one watermelon........... 0.02
salt..................... 0.03 yes, i did eat $8.74, all told; but ishould not thus unblushingly publish my guilt, if i did not know that most of myreaders were equally guilty with myself, and that their deeds would look no betterin print. the next year i sometimes caught a mess offish for my dinner, and once i went so far as to slaughter a woodchuck which ravagedmy bean-field--effect his transmigration, as a tartar would say--and devour him, partly for experiment's sake; but though itafforded me a momentary enjoyment, notwithstanding a musky flavor, i saw thatthe longest use would not make that a good
practice, however it might seem to have your woodchucks ready dressed by thevillage butcher. clothing and some incidental expenseswithin the same dates, though little can be inferred from this item, amounted to $8.40-3/4oil and some household utensils.......2.00 so that all the pecuniary outgoes,excepting for washing and mending, which for the most part were done out of thehouse, and their bills have not yet been received--and these are all and more than all the ways by which money necessarilygoes out in this part of the world--were
house............................$ 28.12-1/2 farm one year..................... 14.72-1/2 food eight months..................... 8.74 clothing, etc., eight months...... 8.40-3/4 oil, etc., eight months............... 2.00----------- -in all...................... $ 61.99- 3/4 i address myself now to those of my readerswho have a living to get. and to meet this i have for farm producesold
$23.44earned by day-labor.............. 13.34 -------- in all.............................$36.78, which subtracted from the sum of theoutgoes leaves a balance of $25.21-3/4 on the one side--this being very nearly themeans with which i started, and the measure of expenses to be incurred--and on the other, beside the leisure and independenceand health thus secured, a comfortable house for me as long as i choose to occupyit.
these statistics, however accidental andtherefore uninstructive they may appear, as they have a certain completeness, have acertain value also. nothing was given me of which i have notrendered some account. it appears from the above estimate, that myfood alone cost me in money about twenty- seven cents a week. it was, for nearly two years after this,rye and indian meal without yeast, potatoes, rice, a very little salt pork,molasses, and salt; and my drink, water. it was fit that i should live on rice,mainly, who love so well the philosophy of india.
to meet the objections of some inveteratecavillers, i may as well state, that if i dined out occasionally, as i always haddone, and i trust shall have opportunities to do again, it was frequently to thedetriment of my domestic arrangements. but the dining out, being, as i havestated, a constant element, does not in the least affect a comparative statement likethis. i learned from my two years' experiencethat it would cost incredibly little trouble to obtain one's necessary food,even in this latitude; that a man may use as simple a diet as the animals, and yetretain health and strength. i have made a satisfactory dinner,satisfactory on several accounts, simply
off a dish of purslane (portulaca oleracea)which i gathered in my cornfield, boiled and salted. i give the latin on account of thesavoriness of the trivial name. and pray what more can a reasonable mandesire, in peaceful times, in ordinary noons, than a sufficient number of ears ofgreen sweet corn boiled, with the addition of salt? even the little variety which i used was ayielding to the demands of appetite, and not of health. yet men have come to such a pass that theyfrequently starve, not for want of
necessaries, but for want of luxuries; andi know a good woman who thinks that her son lost his life because he took to drinkingwater only. the reader will perceive that i am treatingthe subject rather from an economic than a dietetic point of view, and he will notventure to put my abstemiousness to the test unless he has a well-stocked larder. bread i at first made of pure indian mealand salt, genuine hoe-cakes, which i baked before my fire out of doors on a shingle orthe end of a stick of timber sawed off in building my house; but it was wont to getsmoked and to have a piny flavor. i tried flour also; but have at last founda mixture of rye and indian meal most
convenient and agreeable. in cold weather it was no little amusementto bake several small loaves of this in succession, tending and turning them ascarefully as an egyptian his hatching eggs. they were a real cereal fruit which iripened, and they had to my senses a fragrance like that of other noble fruits,which i kept in as long as possible by wrapping them in cloths. i made a study of the ancient andindispensable art of bread-making, consulting such authorities as offered,going back to the primitive days and first invention of the unleavened kind, when from
the wildness of nuts and meats men firstreached the mildness and refinement of this diet, and travelling gradually down in mystudies through that accidental souring of the dough which, it is supposed, taught the leavening process, and through the variousfermentations thereafter, till i came to "good, sweet, wholesome bread," the staffof life. leaven, which some deem the soul of bread,the spiritus which fills its cellular tissue, which is religiously preserved likethe vestal fire--some precious bottleful, i suppose, first brought over in the mayflower, did the business for america,and its influence is still rising,
swelling, spreading, in cerealian billowsover the land--this seed i regularly and faithfully procured from the village, till at length one morning i forgot the rules,and scalded my yeast; by which accident i discovered that even this was notindispensable--for my discoveries were not by the synthetic but analytic process--and i have gladly omitted it since, though mosthousewives earnestly assured me that safe and wholesome bread without yeast might notbe, and elderly people prophesied a speedy decay of the vital forces. yet i find it not to be an essentialingredient, and after going without it for
a year am still in the land of the living;and i am glad to escape the trivialness of carrying a bottleful in my pocket, which would sometimes pop and discharge itscontents to my discomfiture. it is simpler and more respectable to omitit. man is an animal who more than any othercan adapt himself to all climates and circumstances.neither did i put any sal-soda, or other acid or alkali, into my bread. it would seem that i made it according tothe recipe which marcus porcius cato gave about two centuries before christ."panem depsticium sic facito.
manus mortariumque bene lavato. farinam in mortarium indito, aquae paulatimaddito, subigitoque pulchre. ubi bene subegeris, defingito, coquitoquesub testu." which i take to mean,--"make kneaded breadthus. wash your hands and trough well.put the meal into the trough, add water gradually, and knead it thoroughly. when you have kneaded it well, mould it,and bake it under a cover," that is, in a baking kettle.not a word about leaven. but i did not always use this staff oflife.
at one time, owing to the emptiness of mypurse, i saw none of it for more than a month. every new englander might easily raise allhis own breadstuffs in this land of rye and indian corn, and not depend on distant andfluctuating markets for them. yet so far are we from simplicity andindependence that, in concord, fresh and sweet meal is rarely sold in the shops, andhominy and corn in a still coarser form are hardly used by any. for the most part the farmer gives to hiscattle and hogs the grain of his own producing, and buys flour, which is atleast no more wholesome, at a greater cost,
at the store. i saw that i could easily raise my bushelor two of rye and indian corn, for the former will grow on the poorest land, andthe latter does not require the best, and grind them in a hand-mill, and so do without rice and pork; and if i must havesome concentrated sweet, i found by experiment that i could make a very goodmolasses either of pumpkins or beets, and i knew that i needed only to set out a few maples to obtain it more easily still, andwhile these were growing i could use various substitutes beside those which ihave named.
"for," as the forefathers sang,-- "we can make liquor to sweeten our lips ofpumpkins and parsnips and walnut-tree chips." finally, as for salt, that grossest ofgroceries, to obtain this might be a fit occasion for a visit to the seashore, or,if i did without it altogether, i should probably drink the less water. i do not learn that the indians evertroubled themselves to go after it. thus i could avoid all trade and barter, sofar as my food was concerned, and having a shelter already, it would only remain toget clothing and fuel.
the pantaloons which i now wear were wovenin a farmer's family--thank heaven there is so much virtue still in man; for i thinkthe fall from the farmer to the operative as great and memorable as that from the man to the farmer;--and in a new country, fuelis an encumbrance. as for a habitat, if i were not permittedstill to squat, i might purchase one acre at the same price for which the land icultivated was sold--namely, eight dollars and eight cents. but as it was, i considered that i enhancedthe value of the land by squatting on it. there is a certain class of unbelievers whosometimes ask me such questions as, if i
think that i can live on vegetable foodalone; and to strike at the root of the matter at once--for the root is faith--i am accustomed to answer such, that i can liveon board nails. if they cannot understand that, they cannotunderstand much that i have to say. for my part, i am glad to hear ofexperiments of this kind being tried; as that a young man tried for a fortnight tolive on hard, raw corn on the ear, using his teeth for all mortar. the squirrel tribe tried the same andsucceeded. the human race is interested in theseexperiments, though a few old women who are
incapacitated for them, or who own theirthirds in mills, may be alarmed. my furniture, part of which i made myself--and the rest cost me nothing of which i have not rendered an account--consisted ofa bed, a table, a desk, three chairs, a looking-glass three inches in diameter, a pair of tongs and andirons, a kettle, askillet, and a frying-pan, a dipper, a wash-bowl, two knives and forks, threeplates, one cup, one spoon, a jug for oil, a jug for molasses, and a japanned lamp. none is so poor that he need sit on apumpkin. that is shiftlessness.
there is a plenty of such chairs as i likebest in the village garrets to be had for taking them away.furniture! thank god, i can sit and i can standwithout the aid of a furniture warehouse. what man but a philosopher would not beashamed to see his furniture packed in a cart and going up country exposed to thelight of heaven and the eyes of men, a beggarly account of empty boxes? that is spaulding's furniture.i could never tell from inspecting such a load whether it belonged to a so-calledrich man or a poor one; the owner always seemed poverty-stricken.
indeed, the more you have of such thingsthe poorer you are. each load looks as if it contained thecontents of a dozen shanties; and if one shanty is poor, this is a dozen times aspoor. pray, for what do we move ever but to getrid of our furniture, our exuviae: at last to go from this world to another newlyfurnished, and leave this to be burned? it is the same as if all these traps werebuckled to a man's belt, and he could not move over the rough country where our linesare cast without dragging them--dragging his trap. he was a lucky fox that left his tail inthe trap.
the muskrat will gnaw his third leg off tobe free. no wonder man has lost his elasticity. how often he is at a dead set!"sir, if i may be so bold, what do you mean by a dead set?" if you are a seer, whenever you meet a manyou will see all that he owns, ay, and much that he pretends to disown, behind him,even to his kitchen furniture and all the trumpery which he saves and will not burn, and he will appear to be harnessed to itand making what headway he can. i think that the man is at a dead set whohas got through a knot-hole or gateway
where his sledge load of furniture cannotfollow him. i cannot but feel compassion when i hearsome trig, compact-looking man, seemingly free, all girded and ready, speak of his"furniture," as whether it is insured or not. "but what shall i do with my furniture?"--my gay butterfly is entangled in a spider's web then. even those who seem for a long while not tohave any, if you inquire more narrowly you will find have some stored in somebody'sbarn. i look upon england today as an oldgentleman who is travelling with a great
deal of baggage, trumpery which hasaccumulated from long housekeeping, which he has not the courage to burn; greattrunk, little trunk, bandbox, and bundle. throw away the first three at least. it would surpass the powers of a well mannowadays to take up his bed and walk, and i should certainly advise a sick one to laydown his bed and run. when i have met an immigrant totteringunder a bundle which contained his all-- looking like an enormous wen which hadgrown out of the nape of his neck--i have pitied him, not because that was his all,but because he had all that to carry. if i have got to drag my trap, i will takecare that it be a light one and do not nip
me in a vital part. but perchance it would be wisest never toput one's paw into it. i would observe, by the way, that it costsme nothing for curtains, for i have no gazers to shut out but the sun and moon,and i am willing that they should look in. the moon will not sour milk nor taint meatof mine, nor will the sun injure my furniture or fade my carpet; and if he issometimes too warm a friend, i find it still better economy to retreat behind some curtain which nature has provided, than toadd a single item to the details of housekeeping.
a lady once offered me a mat, but as i hadno room to spare within the house, nor time to spare within or without to shake it, ideclined it, preferring to wipe my feet on the sod before my door. it is best to avoid the beginnings of evil.not long since i was present at the auction of a deacon's effects, for his life had notbeen ineffectual:-- "the evil that men do lives after them." as usual, a great proportion was trumperywhich had begun to accumulate in his father's day.among the rest was a dried tapeworm. and now, after lying half a century in hisgarret and other dust holes, these things
were not burned; instead of a bonfire, orpurifying destruction of them, there was an auction, or increasing of them. the neighbors eagerly collected to viewthem, bought them all, and carefully transported them to their garrets and dustholes, to lie there till their estates are settled, when they will start again. when a man dies he kicks the dust. the customs of some savage nations might,perchance, be profitably imitated by us, for they at least go through the semblanceof casting their slough annually; they have the idea of the thing, whether they havethe reality or not.
would it not be well if we were tocelebrate such a "busk," or "feast of first fruits," as bartram describes to have beenthe custom of the mucclasse indians? "when a town celebrates the busk," says he,"having previously provided themselves with new clothes, new pots, pans, and otherhousehold utensils and furniture, they collect all their worn out clothes and other despicable things, sweep and cleansetheir houses, squares, and the whole town of their filth, which with all theremaining grain and other old provisions they cast together into one common heap,and consume it with fire. after having taken medicine, and fasted forthree days, all the fire in the town is
extinguished. during this fast they abstain from thegratification of every appetite and passion whatever.a general amnesty is proclaimed; all malefactors may return to their town." "on the fourth morning, the high priest, byrubbing dry wood together, produces new fire in the public square, from whenceevery habitation in the town is supplied with the new and pure flame." they then feast on the new corn and fruits,and dance and sing for three days, "and the four following days they receive visits andrejoice with their friends from neighboring
towns who have in like manner purified andprepared themselves." the mexicans also practised a similarpurification at the end of every fifty-two years, in the belief that it was time forthe world to come to an end. i have scarcely heard of a truer sacrament,that is, as the dictionary defines it, "outward and visible sign of an inward andspiritual grace," than this, and i have no doubt that they were originally inspired directly from heaven to do thus, thoughthey have no biblical record of the revelation. for more than five years i maintainedmyself thus solely by the labor of my
hands, and i found that, by working aboutsix weeks in a year, i could meet all the expenses of living. the whole of my winters, as well as most ofmy summers, i had free and clear for study. i have thoroughly tried school-keeping, andfound that my expenses were in proportion, or rather out of proportion, to my income,for i was obliged to dress and train, not to say think and believe, accordingly, andi lost my time into the bargain. as i did not teach for the good of myfellow-men, but simply for a livelihood, this was a failure. i have tried trade but i found that itwould take ten years to get under way in
that, and that then i should probably be onmy way to the devil. i was actually afraid that i might by thattime be doing what is called a good business. when formerly i was looking about to seewhat i could do for a living, some sad experience in conforming to the wishes offriends being fresh in my mind to tax my ingenuity, i thought often and seriously of picking huckleberries; that surely i coulddo, and its small profits might suffice-- for my greatest skill has been to want butlittle--so little capital it required, so little distraction from my wonted moods, ifoolishly thought.
while my acquaintances went unhesitatinglyinto trade or the professions, i contemplated this occupation as most liketheirs; ranging the hills all summer to pick the berries which came in my way, and thereafter carelessly dispose of them; so,to keep the flocks of admetus. i also dreamed that i might gather the wildherbs, or carry evergreens to such villagers as loved to be reminded of thewoods, even to the city, by hay-cart loads. but i have since learned that trade curseseverything it handles; and though you trade in messages from heaven, the whole curse oftrade attaches to the business. as i preferred some things to others, andespecially valued my freedom, as i could
fare hard and yet succeed well, i did notwish to spend my time in earning rich carpets or other fine furniture, or delicate cookery, or a house in the grecianor the gothic style just yet. if there are any to whom it is nointerruption to acquire these things, and who know how to use them when acquired, irelinquish to them the pursuit. some are "industrious," and appear to lovelabor for its own sake, or perhaps because it keeps them out of worse mischief; tosuch i have at present nothing to say. those who would not know what to do withmore leisure than they now enjoy, i might advise to work twice as hard as they do--work till they pay for themselves, and get
their free papers. for myself i found that the occupation of aday-laborer was the most independent of any, especially as it required only thirtyor forty days in a year to support one. the laborer's day ends with the going downof the sun, and he is then free to devote himself to his chosen pursuit, independentof his labor; but his employer, who speculates from month to month, has no respite from one end of the year to theother. in short, i am convinced, both by faith andexperience, that to maintain one's self on this earth is not a hardship but a pastime,if we will live simply and wisely; as the
pursuits of the simpler nations are stillthe sports of the more artificial. it is not necessary that a man should earnhis living by the sweat of his brow, unless he sweats easier than i do.