of a chief? And what constitutes the Family other
than the sentiment of obedience by which a wife and
children act together under the direction of a father
and husband? The Family is a natural, primitive,
limited state, as the State is an artificial, ulterior,
and expanded Family, while beneath the differences
which arise from the number, origin, and condition
of its members, we distinguish, in the small as in
the large community, a like fundamental disposition
of mind which brings them together and unites them.
Suppose, now, that this common element receives from
the environment, the epoch, and the race peculiar
characteristics, and it is clear that all the groups
into which it enters will be proportionately modified.
If the sentiment of obedience is merely one of fear,[4]
you encounter, as in most of the Oriental states,
the brutality of despotism, a prodigality of vigorous
punishments, the exploitation of the subject, servile
habits, insecurity of property, impoverished production,
female slavery, and the customs of the harem.
If the sentiment of obedience is rooted in the instinct
of discipline, sociability, and honor, you find, as
in France, a complete military organization, a superb
administrative hierarchy, a weak public spirit with
outbursts of patriotism, the unhesitating docility
of the subject along with the hot-headedness of the
revolutionist, the obsequiousness of the courtier
along with the reserve of the gentleman, the charm
of refined conversation along with home and family
bickerings, conjugal equality together with matrimonial
incompatibilities under the necessary constraints
of the law. If, finally, the sentiment of obedience
is rooted in the instinct of subordination and in
the idea of duty, you perceive, as in Germanic nations,
the security and contentment of the household, the
firm foundations of domestic life, the slow and imperfect
development of worldly matters, innate respect for
established rank, superstitious reverence for the past,
maintenance of social inequalities, natural and habitual
deference to the law. Similarly in a race, just
as there is a difference of aptitude for general ideas,
so will its religion, art, and philosophy be different.
If man is naturally fitted for broader universal conceptions
and inclined at the same time to their derangement,
through the nervous irritability of an over-excited
organization, we find, as in India, a surprising richness
of gigantic religious creations, a splendid bloom
of extravagant transparent epics, a strange concatenation
of subtle, imaginative philosophic systems, all so
intimately associated and so interpenetrated with
a common sap, that we at once recognize them, by their
amplitude, by their color, and by their disorder, as
productions of the same climate and of the same spirit.
If, on the contrary, the naturally sound and well-balanced
man is content to restrict his conceptions to narrow
bounds in order to cast them in more precise forms,
we see, as in Greece, a theology of artists and narrators,