en the inhabitant of democracies is not urged by his wants, he is so
at least by his desires; for of all the possessions which he sees around
him, none are wholly beyond his reach. He therefore does everything in a
hurry, he is always satisfied with "pretty well," and never pauses more
than an instant to consider what he has been doing. His curiosity is at
once insatiable and cheaply satisfied; for he cares more to know a great
deal quickly than to know anything well: he has no time and but little
taste to search things to the bottom. Thus then democratic peoples are
grave, because their social and political condition constantly leads
them to engage in serious occupations; and they act inconsiderately,
because they give but little time and attention to each of these
occupations. The habit of inattention must be considered as the greatest
bane of the democratic character.
Chapter XVI: Why The National Vanity Of The Americans Is More Restless
And Captious Than That Of The English
All free nations are vainglorious, but national pride is not displayed
by all in the same manner. The Americans in their intercourse with
strangers appear impatient of the smallest censure and insatiable
of praise. The most slender eulogium is acceptable to them; the most
exalted seldom contents them; they unceasingly harass you to extort
praise, and if you resist their entreaties they fall to praising
themselves. It would seem as if, doubting their own merit, they wished
to have it constantly exhibited before their eyes. Their vanity is not
only greedy, but restless and jealous; it will grant nothing, whilst it
demands everything, but is ready to beg and to quarrel at the same time.
If I say to an American that the country he lives in is a fine one,
"Ay," he replies, "there is not its fellow in the world." If I applaud
the freedom which its inhabitants enjoy, he answers, "Freedom is a fine
thing, but few nations are worthy to enjoy it." If I remark the purity
of morals which distinguishes the United States, "I can imagine," says
he, "that a stranger, who has been struck by the corruption of all other
nations, is astonished at the difference." At length I leave him to the
contemplation of himself; but he returns to the charge, and does not
desist till he has got me to repeat all I had just been saying. It is
impossible to conceive a more troublesome or more garrulous patriotism;
it wearies even those who are disposed to respect it. *a
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