In contrast to the idea for which Germany now stands, the Anglo-Saxon
instinctively and tenaciously believes in the liberty and initiative of
the individual. We, of course, are no longer Anglo-Saxon. When De
Tocqueville in 1831 visited our country, surveyed our institutions and,
after returning home, made his trenchant diagnosis of our democracy, he
could justly designate us Anglo-Americans. That time is past; we are
to-day everything and nothing: a great nation in the womb of time,
struggling to be born.

Nevertheless, Anglo-American ideas still dominate and inspire our
civilization. It is, indeed, remarkable to what an extent this is true,
in the face of the mingling of heterogeneous races in our population.
As English is our speech, so Anglo-American ideas are still the soul of
our life and institutions.

This is evident in the jealousy of authority. We resent the intrusion
of the government into affairs of private life, and prefer to submit to
annoyances and even injustice on the part of other individuals, rather
than to have protection at the price of paternalistic regulation by the
state. We resent any law that we do not see is necessary to the general
welfare, and are rather lawless even then. This shows clearly in our
reaction on legislation in regard to drink. The prohibition of
intoxicating liquor is about the surest way to make an Anglo-Saxon want
to go out and get drunk, even when he has no other inclination in that
direction. In Boston, under the eleven o'clock closing law, men in
public restaurants will at times order, at ten minutes of eleven, eight
or ten glasses of beer or whiskey, for fear they might want them,
whereas, if the restriction had not been present, two or three would
have sufficed.