In defense of those ~"poor ignorant slaving farmers": I'm descended from some poor dirt farmers who are revered and admired by their multi-generational families, and were admired by their fellow townspeople (largely of a different culture and language), for the start they gave the children and the influence they had on everyone around them. Everyone knew they were honest, people liked the free seasonal watermelons, and enjoyed their humor (back in the days of poetry recitations etc). Though passed on for many years, they impact me and others to this day. Extended family reunions still talk about them (there's one in a couple of weeks, in fact, full of people I'm connected to but don't know them all). I think they chose their life more than Thoreau thought, and what kind of legacy they wanted to leave, and to whom. Many hundreds are grateful they did not live self-centeredly.