n a journey, voyaging or fighting. The sturdy
pauper finds that in the hour of danger he is not despised; he sees
the rich man puffing and panting, and draws the conclusion which he
privately imparts to his companions,--'that our people are not good for
much;' and as a sickly frame is made ill by a mere touch from without,
or sometimes without external impulse is ready to fall to pieces of
itself, so from the least cause, or with none at all, the city falls ill
and fights a battle for life or death. And democracy comes into power
when the poor are the victors, killing some and exiling some, and giving
equal shares in the government to all the rest.

The manner of life in such a State is that of democrats; there is
freedom and plainness of speech, and every man does what is right in
his own eyes, and has his own way of life. Hence arise the most various
developments of character; the State is like a piece of embroidery of
which the colours and figures are the manners of men, and there are many
who, like women and children, prefer this variety to real beauty and
excellence. The State is not one but many, like a bazaar at which you
can buy anything. The great charm is, that you may do as you like; you
may govern if you like, let it alone if you like; go to war and make
peace if you feel disposed, and all quite irrespective of anybody
else. When you condemn men to death they remain alive all the same; a
gentleman is desired to go into exile, and he stalks about the streets
like a hero; and nobody sees him or cares for him. Observe, too,
how grandly Democracy sets her foot upon all our fine theories of
education,--how little she cares for the training of her statesmen! The
only qualification which she demands is the profession of patriotism.
Such is democracy;--a pleasing, lawless, various sort of government,
distributing equality to equals and unequals alike.

Let us now inspect the individual democrat; and first, as in the case
of the State, we will trace his antecedents. He is the son of a miserly
oligarch, and has been taught by him to restrain the love of unnecessary
pleasures. Perhaps I ought to explain this latter term:--Necessary
pleasures are those which are good, and which we cannot do without;
unnecessary pleasures are those which do no good, and of which the
desire might be eradicated by early training. For example, the pleasures
of eating and drinking are necessary and healthy, up to a certain point;
beyond tha