There is no manure， and there are no cattle. . . . My mother， whose granaries used to be always full， has not a grain of wheat in them， because， for two years past， she has fed all her métayers and the poor.""The peasant is assisted，" says a seignior of the same province，[42] "protected， and rarely maltreated， but he is looked upon with disdain. If kindly and pliable he is made subservient， but if ill-disposed he becomes soured and irritable. . . . He is kept in misery， in an abject state， by men who are not at all inhuman but whose prejudices， especially among the nobles， lead them to regard him as of a different species of being. . . . The proprietor gets all he can out of him； in any event， looking upon him and his oxen as domestic animals， he puts them into harness and employs them in all weathers for every kind of journey， and for every species of carting and transport. On the other hand， this métayer thinks of living with as little labor as possible， converting as much ground as he can into pasturage， for the reason that the product arising from the increase of stock costs him no labor. The little plowing he does is for the purpose of raising low-priced provisions suitable for his own nourishment， such as buckwheat， radishes， etc. His enjoyment consists only of his own idleness and sluggishness， hoping for a good chestnut year and doing nothing voluntarily but procreate；" unable to hire farming hands he begets children. -The rest， ordinary laborers， have a few savings， "living on the herbage， and on a few goats which devour everything." Often again， these， by order of Parliament， are killed by the game-keepers. Awoman， with two children in swaddling clothes， having no milk， "and without an inch of ground，" whose two goats， her sole resource， had thus been slain， and another， with one goat slain in the same way， and who begs along with her boy， present themselves at the gate of the chateau； one receives twelve livres， while the other is admitted as a domestic， and henceforth， '' this village is all bows and smiling faces.'' - In short， they are not accustomed to kindness； the lot of all these poor people is to endure. "As with rain and hail， they regard as inevitable the necessity of being oppressed by the strongest， the richest， the most skillful， the most in repute，" and this stamps on them， "if one may be allowed to say so， an air of painful suffering."In Auvergne， a feudal country， covered with extensive ecclesiastic and seigniorial domains， the misery is the same. At Clermont-Ferrand，[43] "there are many streets that can for blackness， dirt and scents only be represented by narrow channels cut in a dunghill." In the inns of the largest bourgs， "closeness， misery， dirtiness and darkness." That of Pradelles is "one of the worst in France." That of Aubenas， says Young， "would be a purgatory for one of my pigs." The senses， in short， are paralyzed. The primitive man is content so long as he can sleep and get something to eat. He gets something to eat， but what kind of food？ To put up with the indigestible mess a peasant here requires a still tougher stomach than in Limousin； in certain villages where， ten years later， every year twenty or twenty-five hogs are to be slaughtered， they now slaughter but three[44]. - On contemplating this temperament， rude and intact since Vercingetorix， and， moreover， rendered more savage by suffering， one cannot avoid being somewhat alarmed. The Marquis de Mirabeau describes"the votive festival of Mont-Dore： savages descending from the mountain in torrents，[45] the curate with stole and surplice， the justice in his wig， the police corps with sabers drawn， all guarding the open square before letting the bagpipers play； the dance interrupted in a quarter of an hour by a fight； the hooting and cries of children， of the feeble and other spectators， urging them on as the rabble urge on so many fighting dogs； frightful looking men， or rather wild beasts covered with coats of coarse wool， wearing wide leather belts pierced with copper nails， gigantic in stature， which is increased by high wooden shoes， and making themselves still taller by standing on tiptoe to see the battle， stamping with their feet as it progresses and rubbing each other's flanks with their elbows， their faces haggard and covered with long matted hair， the upper portion pallid， and the lower distended， indicative of cruel delight and a sort of ferocious impatience. And these folks pay the taille！ And now they want to take away their salt！ And they know nothing of those they despoil， of those whom they think they govern， believing that， by a few strokes of a cowardly and careless pen， they may starve them with impunity up to the final catastrophe！ Poor Jean-Jacques， I said to myself， had any one dispatched you， with your system， to copy music amongst these folks， he would have had some sharp replies to make to your discourses！"Prophetic warning and admirable foresight in one whom an excess of evil does not blind to the evil of the remedy！ Enlightened by his feudal and rural instincts， the old man at once judges both the government and the philosophers， the Ancient Regime and the Revolution.
IV. THE PEASANT BECOMES LANDOWNER.
How the peasant becomes a proprietor. - He is no better off. -Increase of taxes. - He is the "mule" of the Ancient Regime.