d things. Montesquieu's advice was quite
forgotten (see the context Laws, v, 8). He said that _in a democracy_
"nothing kept the standard of morals so high as that young men should
venerate the old. Both profit by it, the young because they respect the
old, and the old because they are confirmed in their respect for
themselves" (for the respect of the young is an assistance to the
self-respect of the aged).

Democracy has forgotten this advice, because it no longer believes in
tradition and believes too much in progress. Old men are the natural
upholders of tradition, and we must confess that an enthusiastic faith
in the value of what we call progress is not commonly their failing. For
this very reason their influence would be a most wholesome corrective to
the system, or rather to the attitude of mind, which despises the past
and sees in every change a step in the path of progress. But democracy
will not allow that it needs a corrective, and the old man, to it, is
only an enemy. The old man upholds tradition and has no enthusiasm for
progress, but beyond this he appeals for respect, first for himself,
then for religion, for glory, for his country and for the history of his
nation. Democracy is indifferent to the sentiment of respect, or rather
it lives in constant fear that the sentiment may be applied elsewhere.

Then what does democracy want for itself?

Not respect, but adoration, passion, devotion. We all like to see our
own sentiments as to ourselves repeated in the minds of others. The
crowd never respects, it loves, it yields to passion, enthusiasm,
fanaticism. It never respects even that which it loves.

It is quite natural that the masses should not care for old men. The
masses are young. How aptly does Horace's description of the young man
apply to the people!

_Imberbis juvenis, tandem custode remoto
Gaudet equis, canibusque et aprici gramine campi;
Cereus in vitium flecti, monitoribus asper,
Utilium tardus provisor, prodigus aeris,
Sublimis, cupidusque et amata relinquere pernix._

"Once free from the control of his tutors, the young man thinks of
nothing but horses, dogs and the Campus Martius, impressionable as wax
to every temptation, impatient of correction, unthrifty, extravagant,
presumptuous and light of love."

At all events respect has no meaning for the crowd, and when it rules,
we cannot from its example learn the lessons of respect. Democracy has
no love for the old; and i