by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Chapter 2 of 5 • 126 min read • Published 1841
action, as some piece of courage or charity, much as they would pay a fine in expiation of daily non-appearance on parade.
Their works are done as an apology or extenuation of their living in the world,—as invalids and the insane pay a high board.
Their virtues are penances. I do not wish to expiate, but to live. My life is for itself and not for a spectacle.
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I much prefer that it should be of a lower strain, so it be genuine and equal, than that it should be glittering and unsteady.
I wish it to be sound and sweet, and not to need diet and bleeding. I ask primary evidence that you are a man, and refuse this appeal from the man to his actions.
I know that for myself it makes no difference whether I do or forbear those actions which are reckoned excellent.
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I cannot consent to pay for a privilege where I have intrinsic right. Few and mean as my gifts may be, I actually am, and do not need for my own assurance or the assurance of my fellows any secondary testimony.
What I must do is all that concerns me, not what the people think.
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