do not in reality possess. In the confusion of all ranks everyone hopes
to appear what he is not, and makes great exertions to succeed in this
object. This sentiment indeed, which is but too natural to the heart of
man, does not originate in the democratic principle; but that principle
applies it to material objects. To mimic virtue is of every age; but the
hypocrisy of luxury belongs more particularly to the ages of democracy.

To satisfy these new cravings of human vanity the arts have recourse to
every species of imposture: and these devices sometimes go so far as to
defeat their own purpose. Imitation diamonds are now made which may be
easily mistaken for real ones; as soon as the art of fabricating false
diamonds shall have reached so high a degree of perfection that they
cannot be distinguished from real ones, it is probable that both one and
the other will be abandoned, and become mere pebbles again.

This leads me to speak of those arts which are called the fine arts, by
way of distinction. I do not believe that it is a necessary effect of a
democratic social condition and of democratic institutions to diminish
the number of men who cultivate the fine arts; but these causes exert
a very powerful influence on the manner in which these arts are
cultivated. Many of those who had already contracted a taste for the
fine arts are impoverished: on the other hand, many of those who are not
yet rich begin to conceive that taste, at least by imitation; and the
number of consumers increases, but opulent and fastidious consumers
become more scarce. Something analogous to what I have already
pointed out in the useful arts then takes place in the fine arts;
the productions of artists are more numerous, but the merit of each
production is diminished. No longer able to soar to what is great, they
cultivate what is pretty and elegant; and appearance is more attended
to than reality. In aristocracies a few great pictures are produced;