father to son, one is always a soldier.  Each individual is born into it with his hereditary rank, his local post, his pay in landed property, with the certainty of never being abandoned by his chieftain, and with the obligation of giving his life for his chieftain in time of need.  In this epoch of perpetual warfare only one set-up is valid, that of a body of men confronting the enemy, and such is the feudal system; we can judge by this trait alone of the perils which it wards off, and of the service which it enjoins.  “In those days,” says the Spanish general chronicle, “kings, counts, nobles, and knights, in order to be ready at all hours, kept their horses in the rooms in which they slept with their wives.”  The viscount in his tower defending the entrance to a valley or the passage of a ford, the marquis thrown as a forlorn hope on the burning frontier, sleeps with his hand on his weapon, like an American lieutenant among the Sioux behind a western stockade.  His dwelling is simply a camp and a refuge.  Straw and heaps of leaves cover the pavement of the great hall, here he rests with his troopers, taking off a spur if he has a chance to sleep.  The loopholes in the wall scarcely allow daylight to enter; the main thing is not to be shot with arrows.  Every taste, every sentiment is subordinated to military service; there are certain places on the European frontier where a child of fourteen is required to march, and where the widow up to sixty is required to remarry.  Men to fill up the ranks, men to mount guard, is the call, which at this moment issues from all institutions like the summons of a brazen horn. — Thanks to these braves, the peasant(villanus) enjoys protection.  He is no longer to be slaughtered, no longer to be led captive with his family, in herds, with his neck in the yoke.  He ventures to plow and to sow, and to reply upon his crops; in case of danger he knows that he can find an asylum for himself, and for his grain and cattle, in the circle of palisades at the base of the fortress.  By degrees necessity establishes a tacit contract between the military chieftain of the donjon and the early settlers of the open country, and this becomes a recognized custom.  They work for him, cultivate his ground, do his carting, pay him quittances, so much for house, so much per head for cattle, so much to inherit or to sell; he is compelled to support his troop.  But when these rights are discharged he errs if, through pride or greed, he takes more than his due. — As to the vagabonds, the wretched, who, in the universal disorder and devastation, seek refuge under his guardianship, their condition is harder.  The soil belongs to the lord because without him it would be uninhabitable.  If he assigns them a plot of ground, if he permits them merely to encamp on it, if he sets them to work or furnishes them with seeds it is on conditions, which he prescribes.  They are to become his serfs, subject to the laws on mainmorte.[11] Wherever they