42 
WALDEN. 
for a night, but have settled down on earth and forgot¬ 
ten heaven. We have adopted Christianity merely as 
an improved method of agriculture. We have built 
for this world a family mansion, and for the next a fami¬ 
ly tomb. The best works of art are the expression of 
man’s struggle to free himself from this condition, but 
the effect of our art is merely to make this low state 
comfortable and that higher state to be forgotten. There 
is actually no place in this village for a work of fine art, 
if any had come down to us, to stand, for our lives, our 
houses and streets, furnish no proper pedestal for it. 
There is not a nail to hang a picture on, nor a shelf to 
receive the bust of a hero or a saint. When I consider 
how our houses are built and paid for, or not paid for, and 
their internal economy managed and sustained, I wonder 
that the floor does not give way under the visitor while 
he is admiring the gewgaws upon the mantel-piece, and 
let him through into the cellar, to some solid and honest 
though earthy foundation. I cannot but perceive that this 
so called rich and refined life is a thing jumped at, and I 
do not get on in the enjoyment of the fine arts which 
adorn it, my attention being wholly occupied with the 
jump; for I remember that the greatest genuine leap, 
due to human muscles alone, on record, is that of certain 
wandering Arabs, who are said to have cleared twenty- 
five feet on level ground. Without factitious support, 
man is sure to come to earth again beyond that distance. 
The first question which I am tempted to put to the 
proprietor of such great impropriety is, Who bolsters 
you ? Are you one of the ninety-seven whw fail, or 
the three who succeed ? Answer me these questions, 
and then perhaps I may look at your bawbles and find 
them ornamental. The cart before the horse is neither 
