13. Chapter XIII: Causes Of The Restless Spirit Of Americans In The
Midst Of Their Prosperity
In certain remote corners of the Old World you may still
sometimes stumble upon a small district which seems to have been
forgotten amidst the general tumult, and to have remained
stationary whilst everything around it was in motion. The
inhabitants are for the most part extremely ignorant and poor;
they take no part in the business of the country, and they are
frequently oppressed by the government; yet their countenances
are generally placid, and their spirits light. In America I saw
the freest and most enlightened men, placed in the happiest
circumstances which the world affords: it seemed to me as if a
cloud habitually hung upon their brow, and I thought them serious
and almost sad even in their pleasures. The chief reason of this
contrast is that the former do not think of the ills they endure
-the latter are forever brooding over advantages they do not
possess. It is strange to see with what feverish ardor the
Americans pursue their own welfare; and to watch the vague dread
that constantly torments them lest they should not have chosen
the shortest path which may lead to it. A native of the United
States clings to this world's goods as if he were certain never
to die; and he is so hasty in grasping at all within his reach,
that one would suppose he was constantly afraid of not living
long enough to enjoy them. He clutches everything, he holds
nothing fast, but soon loosens his grasp to pursue fresh
gratifications.
In the United States a man builds a house to spend his
latter years in it, and he sells it before the roof is on: he
plants a garden, and lets it just as the trees are coming into
bearing: he brings a field into tillage, and leaves other men to
gather the crops: he embraces a profession, and gives it up: he
settles in a place, which he soon afterwards leaves, to carry his
changeable longings elsewhere. If his private affairs leave him
any leisure, he instantly plunges into the vortex of politics;
and if at the end of a year of unremitting labor he finds he has
a few days' vacation, his eager curiosity whirls him over the
vast extent of the United States, and he will travel fifteen
hundred miles in a few days, to shake off his happiness. Death at
length overtakes him, but it is before he is weary of his
bootless chase of that complete felicity which is forever on the
wing.
At first sight there is something surprising in this strange
unrest of so many happy men, restless in the midst of abundance.
The spectacle itself is however as old as the world; the novelty
is to see a whole people furnish an exemplification of it. Their
taste for physical gratifications must be regarded as the
original source of that secret inquietude which the actions of
the Americans betray, and of that inconstancy of which they
afford fresh examples every day. He who has set his heart
exclusively upon the pursuit of worldly welfare is always in a
hurry, for he has but a limited time at his disposal to reach it,
to grasp it, and to enjoy it. The recollection of the brevity of
life is a constant spur to him. Besides the good things which he
possesses, he every instant fancies a thousand others which death
will prevent him from trying if he does not try them soon. This
thought fills him with anxiety, fear, and regret, and keeps his
mind in ceaseless trepidation, which leads him perpetually to
change his plans and his abode. If in addition to the taste for
physical well-being a social condition be superadded, in which
the laws and customs make no condition permanent, here is a great
additional stimulant to this restlessness of temper. Men will
then be seen continually to change their track, for fear of
missing the shortest cut to happiness. It may readily be
conceived that if men, passionately bent upon physical
gratifications, desire eagerly, they are also easily discouraged:
as their ultimate object is to enjoy, the means to reach that
object must be prompt and easy, or the trouble of acquiring the
gratification would be greater than the gratification itself.
Their prevailing frame of mind then is at once ardent and
relaxed, violent and enervated. Death is often less dreaded than
perseverance in continuous efforts to one end.
The equality of conditions leads by a still straighter road
to several of the effects which I have here described. When all
the privileges of birth and fortune are abolished, when all
professions are accessible to all, and a man's own energies may
place him at the top of any one of them, an easy and unbounded
career seems open to his ambition, and he will readily persuade
himself that he is born to no vulgar destinies. But this is an
erroneous notion, which is corrected by daily experience. The
same equality which allows every citizen to conceive these lofty
hopes, renders all the citizens less able to realize them: it
circumscribes their powers on every side, whilst it gives freer
scope to their desires. Not only are they themselves powerless,
but they are met at every step by immense obstacles, which they
did not at first perceive. They have swept away the privileges
of some of their fellow-creatures which stood in their way, but
they have opened the door to universal competition: the barrier
has changed its shape rather than its position. When men are
nearly alike, and all follow the same track, it is very difficult
for any one individual to walk quick and cleave a way through the
dense throng which surrounds and presses him. This constant
strife between the propensities springing from the equality of
conditions and the means it supplies to satisfy them, harasses
and wearies the mind.
It is possible to conceive men arrived at a degree of
freedom which should completely content them; they would then
enjoy their independence without anxiety and without impatience.
But men will never establish any equality with which they can be
contented. Whatever efforts a people may make, they will never
succeed in reducing all the conditions of society to a perfect
level; and even if they unhappily attained that absolute and
complete depression, the inequality of minds would still remain,
which, coming directly from the hand of God, will forever escape
the laws of man. However democratic then the social state and the
political constitution of a people may be, it is certain that
every member of the community will always find out several points
about him which command his own position; and we may foresee that
his looks will be doggedly fixed in that direction. When
inequality of conditions is the common law of society, the most
marked inequalities do not strike the eye: when everything is
nearly on the same level, the slightest are marked enough to hurt
it. Hence the desire of equality always becomes more insatiable
in proportion as equality is more complete.
Amongst democratic nations men easily attain a certain
equality of conditions: they can never attain the equality they
desire. It perpetually retires from before them, yet without
hiding itself from their sight, and in retiring draws them on.
At every moment they think they are about to grasp it; it escapes
at every moment from their hold. They are near enough to see its
charms, but too far off to enjoy them; and before they have fully
tasted its delights they die. To these causes must be attributed
that strange melancholy which oftentimes will haunt the
inhabitants of democratic countries in the midst of their
abundance, and that disgust at life which sometimes seizes upon
them in the midst of calm and easy circumstances. Complaints are
made in France that the number of suicides increases; in America
suicide is rare, but insanity is said to be more common than
anywhere else. These are all different symptoms of the same
disease. The Americans do not put an end to their lives, however
disquieted they may be, because their religion forbids it; and
amongst them materialism may be said hardly to exist,
notwithstanding the general passion for physical gratification.
The will resists -reason frequently gives way. In democratic
ages enjoyments are more intense than in the ages of aristocracy,
and especially the number of those who partake in them is larger:
but, on the other hand, it must be admitted that man's hopes and
his desires are oftener blasted, the soul is more stricken and
perturbed, and care itself more keen.