On the contrary, I'm told Bundy at least had a genuis IQ and several years of Harvard education under his belt. He no doubt considered "good" and "evil" and decided that they were just words.
I'm not sure I misinterpreted anything about your statement, though. You said
the one, great virtue of western Victorian society (not only in Britain, but here as well) was its utter, unquestioning self-confidence
I just wanted to make it clear that self-confidence is necessary but not sufficient to a good society: the Nazis were utterly convinced of their moral superiority, too. You note later that the Victorians were "good" (I would say they were temperate) and "confident in their goodness." That is sufficient to a viable good society, but I didn't see that in your original statement. And go back and read why Emerson leaves for the forest.
That proves you didn't read the same "Walden" I did-- Thoreau wrote it, not Emerson.
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion."
That's why Thoreau went to the woods, and it's the same reason I backpack in the mountains and sail my little boat in our local bays. "Walden" is not only my screen name; it's the name of my boat-- and don't you be dissin' my boat, you hear? :) In the woods, in the mountains, on the water, I have only myself, whatever simple gear I've brought along, and maybe a companion to help me to deal with whatever I encounter-- terrain, weather, wind, waves, wildlife-- and it is a great pleasure to live simply in a beautiful place, and realize how little I stuff to be happy, but how essential to my happiness is the grandeur and terribleness of the earth and the forces of nature. I just got back from a wonderful morning sail, and it reminded me all over again that I don't go often enough.
As for the Victorians, I think we're agreed.