society, much more than from its political laws. As men grow more alike,
each man feels himself weaker in regard to all the rest; as he discerns
nothing by which he is considerably raised above them, or distinguished
from them, he mistrusts himself as soon as they assail him. Not only
does he mistrust his strength, but he even doubts of his right; and he
is very near acknowledging that he is in the wrong, when the greater
number of his countrymen assert that he is so. The majority do not need
to constrain him--they convince him. In whatever way then the powers of
a democratic community may be organized and balanced, it will always be
extremely difficult to believe what the bulk of the people reject, or to
profess what they condemn.

This circumstance is extraordinarily favorable to the stability of
opinions. When an opinion has taken root amongst a democratic people,
and established itself in the minds of the bulk of the community, it
afterwards subsists by itself and is maintained without effort, because
no one attacks it. Those who at first rejected it as false, ultimately
receive it as the general impression; and those who still dispute it in
their hearts, conceal their dissent; they are careful not to engage in a
dangerous and useless conflict. It is true, that when the majority of
a democratic people change their opinions, they may suddenly and
arbitrarily effect strange revolutions in men's minds; but their
opinions do not change without much difficulty, and it is almost as
difficult to show that they are changed.

Time, events, or the unaided individual action of the mind, will
sometimes undermine or destroy an opinion, without any outward sign
of the change. It has not been openly assailed, no conspiracy has been
formed to make war on it, but its followers one by one noiselessly
secede--day by day a few of them abandon it, until last it is only
professed by a minority. In this state it will still continue to
prevail. As its enemies remain mute, or only interchange their thoughts
by stealth, they are themselves unaware for a long period that a great
revolution has actually been effected; and in this state of uncertainly
they take no steps--they observe each other and are silent. The majority
have ceased to believe what they believed before; but they still affect
to believe, and this empty phantom of public opinion in strong enough to
chill innovators, and to keep them silent and at respectful distance. We
live