eak and worthless
hands a great people may fall.

Hitherto the Americans have fortunately escaped all the perils which I
have just pointed out; and in this respect they are really deserving of
admiration. Perhaps there is no country in the world where fewer idle
men are to be met with than in America, or where all who work are more
eager to promote their own welfare. But if the passion of the
Americans for physical gratifications is vehement, at least it is
not indiscriminating; and reason, though unable to restrain it, still
directs its course. An American attends to his private concerns as if he
were alone in the world, and the next minute he gives himself up to the
common weal as if he had forgotten them. At one time he seems animated
by the most selfish cupidity, at another by the most lively patriotism.
The human heart cannot be thus divided. The inhabitants of the United
States alternately display so strong and so similar a passion for their
own welfare and for their freedom, that it may be supposed that these
passions are united and mingled in some part of their character. And
indeed the Americans believe their freedom to be the best instrument and
surest safeguard of their welfare: they are attached to the one by the
other. They by no means think that they are not called upon to take a
part in the public weal; they believe, on the contrary, that their chief
business is to secure for themselves a government which will allow them
to acquire the things they covet, and which will not debar them from the
peaceful enjoyment of those possessions which they have acquired.

Chapter XV: That Religious Belief Sometimes Turns The Thoughts Of The
Americans To Immaterial Pleasures

In the United States, on the seventh day of every week, the trading and
working life of the nation seems suspended; all noises cease; a deep
tranquillity, say rather the solemn calm of meditation, succeeds the
turmoil of the week, and the soul resumes possession and contemplation
of itself. Upon this day the marts of traffic are deserted; every member
of the community, accompanied by his children, goes to church, where he
listens to strange language which would seem unsuited to his ear. He
is told of the countless evils caused by pride and covetousness: he
is reminded of the necessity of checking his desires, of the finer
pleasures which belong to virtue alone, and of the true happiness which
attends it. On his return home, he does not turn