It was necessary that he should protect himself， and， indeed， over-protect himself. Whoever， in the anarchical and military society in which he lived， allowed the slightest encroachment， or left unpunished the slightest approach to insult， was regarded as weak or craven and at once became a prey； one had to be proud-spirited， if not， one risked death. This was not difficult either. Sole proprietor and nearly absolute sovereign， with neither equals or peers on his domain， here he was unique being， superior and incomparable to every one else.[8] On that subject revolved his long monologue during his hours of gloomy solitude， which soliloquy has lasted for nine centuries.[9]
Thus in his own eyes， his person and all that depends on him are inviolable； rather than tolerate the slightest infringement on his prerogatives he will dare all and sacrifice all.[10] A sensitive pride (orgueil exalté) is the best of sentinels to protect a right； for， not only does it mount guard over the right to preserve it， but， again， and especially， for its own satisfaction； the imagination has conceived a personality appropriate for his rank， and this character the man imposes on himself as his role. Henceforth， he not only forces the respect of others， but he respects himself； he possesses the sentiment of honor， a generous self-esteem which makes him regard himself as noble and incapable of doing anything mean. In discriminating between his actions， he may err； fashion or vanity may sometimes lead him too far， or lead him astray， either on the path of recklessness or on that of puerility； his point of honor may be fixed in the wrong direction. But， in sum， and thanks to this being a fixed point， he will maintain himself erect even under an absolute monarchy， under a Philip II. in Spain， under a Louis XIV. in France， under a Frederick II. in Prussia. From the feudal baron or gentleman of the court to the modern gentleman， this tradition persists and descends from story to story down to lowest social substratum： to-day， every man of spirit， the bourgeois， the peasant， the workman， has his point of honor like the noble. He likewise， in spite of the social encroachments that gain on him， reserves to himself his private nook， a sort of moral stronghold wherein he preserves his faiths， his opinions， his affections， his obligations as son， husband and father；it is the sacred treasury of his innermost being. This stronghold belongs to him alone； no one， even in the name of the public， has a right to enter it； to surrender it would be cowardice， rather than give up its keys he would die in the breach；[11] when this militant sentiment of honor is enlisted on the side of conscience it becomes virtue itself.[12] - Such are， in these days， (1870) the two central themes of our European morality.[13] Through the former the individual recognizes duties from which nothing can exempt him；through the latter， he claims rights of which nothing can deprive him：
our civilization has vegetated from these two roots， and still vegetates. Consider the depth and the extent of the historical soil in which they penetrate， and you may judge of their vigor. Consider the height and unlimited growth of the trees which they nourish， and you may judge of their healthiness. Everywhere else， one or other having failed， in China， in the Roman Empire， in Islam， the sap has dried downward and the tree has become stunted， or has fallen.... It is the modern man， who is neither Chinese， nor antique， nor Moslem， nor Negro， nor savage， the man formed by Christian education and taking refuge in his conscience as in a sanctuary， the man formed by feudal education and entrenched behind his honor as in a fortress， whose sanctuary and stronghold the new social contract bids him surrender.