"When a Japanese says 'I love my country，' a great or even the greater part of his idea of his 'country' is taken up by the emperor and the imperial family...his forefathers and descendants are also taken into account.""In joy and in sorrow he believes that they (his own ancestors) are with him.He serves them as if they were living.And these ancestors whom he loves and reveres were all loyal to their emperors in their days； so he feels he must be loyal to his emperor.
" Nothing is so real to him as what he feels； and he feels that with him are united the past， the present and the future generations of his countrymen." "Thus fully conscious of the intense sympathy `of his compatriots， both dead and living， and swelled with lofty anticipations of his glorious destiny， no danger can appall and no toil can tire the real Japanese soldier."
In America unity of spirit is intense， and yet singularly headless and formless.There is no capital city， no guiding upper class， no monarch， no creed， scarcely even a dominating tradition.It seems to be a matter of common allegiance to vague sentiments of freedom， kindliness and hope.
And this very circumstance， that the American spirit is so little specialized and so much at one with the general spirit of human nature， does more than anything else to make it influential， and potent in the assimilation of strange elements.
The only adequate proof of a lack of solidarity is inefficiency in total action.There may be intense strife of parties and classes which has nothing really disintegrating in it； but when we see， as was apparently the case in Russia not long ago， that the hour of conflict with an external enemy does not unite internal forces but increases their divergence， it is clear that something is wrong.
It is sometimes said that France has more solidarity than Great Britain or the United States， the ground being that we have a less fluent unity of the social mind， a more vigorous self-assertion of the individual.But this is as dubious as to say that the contention of athletes among themselves will prevent their uniting to form a strong team.Yet there does seem to be an interesting difference in kind between the sort of unity， of common discipline and sentiment which exists among the French and that of English or Americans梩hese latter， however different， being far more like each other in this respect than either to the French.The contrast seems to me so illuminating， as a study of social types， that I will spend a few pages in attempting to expound it.
French thought梐s to this I follow largely Mr.Brownell's penetrating study*梥eems to be not only more centralized in place， that is， more dominated by the capital， but also， leaving aside certain notorious divisions， more uniform， more authoritative， more intolerant， more obviously solidaire.There is less initiative， less aggressive non-conformity.French sentiment emphasizes equality much more than individual freedom and is somewhat intolerant of any marked departure from the dominant types of thought.There is more jealousy of personal power， especially in politics， and less of that eager yet self-poised sympathy with triumphant personality which we find in England or America.There is， in fact， more need to be jealous of a personal ascendancy， because， when it once gains sway， there is less to check it.And with all this goes the French system of public education， whose well-known uniformity， strictness of discipline and classical conservatism is both cause and effect of the trend toward formal solidarity.
There is also an intolerance of the un-French and an inability to understand it even greater， perhaps， than the corresponding phenomenon in other nations.
The French are self-absorbed and care little for the history of other peoples.
Nor are the sympathies with contemporaries "In Paris， certainly，" says Mr.Brownell， "the foreigner， hospitably as he is invariably treated， is invariably treated as the foreigner that he is."
The relative weakness of individuality in France is due， of course， not to any lack of self-feeling， but to the fact that the Frenchman identifies himself more with the social whole， and， merged in that， does not take his more particular self so seriously.It is rather a we-feeling than an I-feeling， and differentiates France more sharply from other nations than it does the individual Frenchman from his compatriots."He does not admire France because she is his country.His complacence with himself proceeds from the circumstance that he is a Frenchman； which is distinctly what he is first， being a man afterward." "One never hears the Frenchman boast of the character and quality of his compatriots as Englishmen and ourselves do.He is thinking about France， about her different gloires， about her position at the head of civilization."
As there is less individuality in general， so there is a happy lack of whimsical and offensive oddity， of sharp corners and bad taste.Mr.
Brownell finds nothing more significant than the absence in France of prigs.
"One infers at once in such a society a free and effortless play of the faculties， a large， humorous and tolerant view of oneself and others， leisure， calm， healthful and rational vivacity， a tranquil confidence in one's own perceptions and in the intelligence of one's neighbors."
With this partial irresponsibility， this tendency not to take one's private self too seriously， goes a lack of moral extremes of all kinds.
Their goodness is not so good， their vice not so vicious as ours.Both are more derived from immediate intercourse." What would be vice among us remains in France social irregularity induced by sentiment."These traits have an obvious connection with that more eager and facile communicativeness that strikes us so in the French： they have as a rule less introspection， live more immediately and congenially in a social stream from which， accordingly， they are less disposed to differentiate themselves.
