t were invisible. As
there is no longer a race of poor men, so there is no longer a race of
rich men; the latter spring up daily from the multitude, and relapse
into it again. Hence they do not form a distinct class, which may be
easily marked out and plundered; and, moreover, as they are connected
with the mass of their fellow-citizens by a thousand secret ties, the
people cannot assail them without inflicting an injury upon itself.
Between these two extremes of democratic communities stand an
innumerable multitude of men almost alike, who, without being exactly
either rich or poor, are possessed of sufficient property to desire the
maintenance of order, yet not enough to excite envy. Such men are the
natural enemies of violent commotions: their stillness keeps all beneath
them and above them still, and secures the balance of the fabric of
society. Not indeed that even these men are contented with what they
have gotten, or that they feel a natural abhorrence for a revolution in
which they might share the spoil without sharing the calamity; on the
contrary, they desire, with unexampled ardor, to get rich, but the
difficulty is to know from whom riches can be taken. The same state of
society which constantly prompts desires, restrains these desires
within necessary limits: it gives men more liberty of changing and less
interest in change.

Not only are the men of democracies not naturally desirous of
revolutions, but they are afraid of them. All revolutions more or
less threaten the tenure of property: but most of those who live in
democratic countries are possessed of property--not only are they
possessed of property, but they live in the condition of men who set the
greatest store upon their property. If we attentively consider each of
the classes of which society is composed, it is easy to see that the
passions engendered by property are keenest and most tenacious amongst
the middle classes. The poor often care but little for what they
possess, because they suffer much more from the want of what they have
not, than they enjoy the little they have. The rich have many other
passions besides that of riches to satisfy; and, besides, the long and
arduous enjoyment of a great fortune sometimes makes them in the end
insensible to its charms. But the men who have a competency, alike
removed from opulence and from penury, attach an enormous value to their
possessions. As they are still almost within the reach of poverty, they