to the lowest rank of the public servants: they are
little esteemed, and no longer understood. The reverse of what takes
place in aristocratic ages then occurs; the men who enter the army
are no longer those of the highest, but of the lowest rank. Military
ambition is only indulged in when no other is possible. Hence arises a
circle of cause and consequence from which it is difficult to escape:
the best part of the nation shuns the military profession because that
profession is not honored, and the profession is not honored because the
best part of the nation has ceased to follow it. It is then no matter
of surprise that democratic armies are often restless, ill-tempered,
and dissatisfied with their lot, although their physical condition is
commonly far better, and their discipline less strict than in other
countries. The soldier feels that he occupies an inferior position,
and his wounded pride either stimulates his taste for hostilities
which would render his services necessary, or gives him a turn for
revolutions, during which he may hope to win by force of arms the
political influence and personal importance now denied him. The
composition of democratic armies makes this last-mentioned danger
much to be feared. In democratic communities almost every man has some
property to preserve; but democratic armies are generally led by men
without property, most of whom have little to lose in civil broils. The
bulk of the nation is naturally much more afraid of revolutions than in
the ages of aristocracy, but the leaders of the army much less so.

Moreover, as amongst democratic nations (to repeat what I have just
remarked) the wealthiest, the best educated, and the most able men
seldom adopt the military profession, the army, taken collectively,
eventually forms a small nation by itself, where the mind is less
enlarged, and habits are more rude than in the nation at large. Now,
this small uncivilized nation has arms in its possession, and alone
knows how to use them: for, indeed, the pacific temper of the community
increases the danger to which a democratic people is exposed from the
military and turbulent spirit of the army. Nothing is so dangerous as
an army amidst an unwarlike nation; the excessive love of the whole
community for quiet continually puts its constitution at the mercy of
the soldiery. It may therefore be asserted, generally speaking, that if
democratic nations are naturally prone to peace from their interests