at a time which has witnessed the most rapid changes of opinion in
the minds of men; nevertheless it may be that the leading opinions of
society will ere long be more settled than they have been for several
centuries in our history: that time is not yet come, but it may
perhaps be approaching. As I examine more closely the natural wants and
tendencies of democratic nations, I grow persuaded that if ever social
equality is generally and permanently established in the world, great
intellectual and political revolutions will become more difficult and
less frequent than is supposed. Because the men of democracies appear
always excited, uncertain, eager, changeable in their wills and in their
positions, it is imagined that they are suddenly to abrogate their laws,
to adopt new opinions, and to assume new manners. But if the principle
of equality predisposes men to change, it also suggests to them certain
interests and tastes which cannot be satisfied without a settled order
of things; equality urges them on, but at the same time it holds them
back; it spurs them, but fastens them to earth;--it kindles their
desires, but limits their powers. This, however, is not perceived at
first; the passions which tend to sever the citizens of a democracy are
obvious enough; but the hidden force which restrains and unites them is
not discernible at a glance.
Amidst the ruins which surround me, shall I dare to say that revolutions
are not what I most fear coming generations? If men continue to shut
themselves more closely within the narrow circle of domestic interests
and to live upon that kind of excitement, it is to be apprehended that
they may ultimately become inaccessible to those great and powerful
public emotions which perturb nations--but which enlarge them and
recruit them. When property becomes so fluctuating, and the love of
property so restless and so ardent, I cannot but fear that men may
arrive at such a state as to regard every new theory as a peril,
every innovation as an irksome toil, every social improvement as a
stepping-stone to revolution, and so refuse to move altogether for fear
of being moved too far. I dread, and I confess it, lest they should at
last so entirely give way to a cowardly love of present enjoyment, as to
lose sight of the interests of their future selves and of those of their
descendants; and to prefer to glide along the easy current of life,
rather than to make, when it is necessary, a strong and sud
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