Let us consider the first one, local government.  There are countries at the gates of France in which feudal subjection, more burdensome than in France, seems lighter because, in the other scale, the benefits counterbalance disadvantages.  At Munster, in 1809, Beugnot finds a sovereign bishop, a town of convents and a large seigniorial mansion, a few merchants for indispensable trade, a small bourgeoisie, and, all around, a peasantry composed of either colons or serfs.  The seignior deducts a portion of all their crops in provisions or in cattle, and, at their deaths, a portion of their inheritances.  If they go away their property revert to him.  His servants are chastised like Russian moujiks, and in each outhouse is a trestle for this purpose “without prejudice to graver penalties,” probably the bastinado and the like.  But “never did the culprit entertain the slightest idea of complaint or appeal.”  For if the seignior whips them as the father of family he protects them “as the father of a family, ever coming to their assistance when misfortune befalls them, and taking care of them in their illness.”  He provides an asylum for them in old age; he looks after their widows, and rejoices when they have plenty of children.  He is bound to them by common sympathies they are neither miserable nor uneasy; they know that, in every extreme or unforeseen necessity, he will be their refuge.[1] In the Prussian states and according to the code of Frederick the Great, a still more rigorous servitude is atoned for by similar obligations.  The peasantry, without their seignior’s permission, cannot alienate a field, mortgage it, cultivate it differently, change their occupation or marry.  If they leave the seigniory he can pursue them in every direction and bring them back by force.  He has the right of surveillance over their private life, and he chastises them if drunk or lazy.  When young they serve for years as servants in his mansion; as cultivators they owe him corvees and, in certain places, three times a week.  But, according to both law and custom, he is obliged “to see that they are educated, to succor them in indigence, and, as far as possible, to provide them with the means of support.”  Accordingly he is charged with the duties of the government of which he enjoys the advantages, and, under the heavy hand which curbs them, but which sustains them, we do not find his subjects recalcitrant.  In England, the upper class attains to the same result by other ways.  There also the soil still pays the ecclesiastic tithe, strictly the tenth, which is much more than in France.[2] The squire, the nobleman, possesses a still larger portion of the soil than his French neighbor and, in truth, exercises greater authority in his canton.  But his tenants, the lessees and the farmers, are no longer his serfs, not even his vassals; they are free.  If he governs it is through influence and not by virtue of a command.  Proprietor and patron,