he Americans and have changed
my opinion. I do not mean to say that temperament has not a great deal
to do with the character of the inhabitants of the United States, but
I think that their political institutions are a still more influential
cause. I believe the seriousness of the Americans arises partly from
their pride. In democratic countries even poor men entertain a lofty
notion of their personal importance: they look upon themselves with
complacency, and are apt to suppose that others are looking at them,
too. With this disposition they watch their language and their actions
with care, and do not lay themselves open so as to betray their
deficiencies; to preserve their dignity they think it necessary to
retain their gravity.

But I detect another more deep-seated and powerful cause which
instinctively produces amongst the Americans this astonishing gravity.
Under a despotism communities give way at times to bursts of vehement
joy; but they are generally gloomy and moody, because they are afraid.
Under absolute monarchies tempered by the customs and manners of the
country, their spirits are often cheerful and even, because as they have
some freedom and a good deal of security, they are exempted from the
most important cares of life; but all free peoples are serious, because
their minds are habitually absorbed by the contemplation of some
dangerous or difficult purpose. This is more especially the case amongst
those free nations which form democratic communities. Then there are
in all classes a very large number of men constantly occupied with the
serious affairs of the government; and those whose thoughts are not
engaged in the direction of the commonwealth are wholly engrossed by
the acquisition of a private fortune. Amongst such a people a serious
demeanor ceases to be peculiar to certain men, and becomes a habit of
the nation.

We are told of small democracies in the days of antiquity, in which the
citizens met upon the public places with garlands of roses, and spent
almost all their time in dancing and theatrical amusements. I do not
believe in such republics any more than in that of Plato; or, if the
things we read of really happened, I do not hesitate to affirm that
these supposed democracies were composed of very different elements from
ours, and that they had nothing in common with the latter except their
name. But it must not be supposed that, in the midst of all their toils,
the people who live in democ