gallant cavalry would advance against steady and sturdy infantry. The infantry would form themselves into squares, the artillerymen would for the instant leave their guns and betake themselves to the interior of the nearest square. The storm of cavalry sweeps on in vain and retires beaten; the infantry remains unbroken; the artillerymen return to their guns, and serve them against the retreating foe. The effect of the Village Community in time of trouble or trial was precisely similar. Seeing the invader approach, the Community would close its ranks, gather its household goods together, hide or bury its precious records and papers with its little stores and treasure. The work in the fields might be suspended for a while, the blackmail or the contribution required by the oppressor would be forthcoming, and he would ultimately go forth to fresh pastures. At first sight everything might seem to be swept into confusion. But no; the organization of the Community has remained intact; its representatives resume their functions; every shareholder knows his share, if there be any doubt he can refer to the records that have been preserved; he goes back to his accustomed place, rehabilitates his holding, restores his harried fields; and soon order follows on the passing interregnum of disorder.
This peculiar institution is important in this memoir because Thomason as Governor upheld it with all his might. Sir Charles Metcalfe also recorded his opinion on the same side in a passage of remarkable force. It may be well to reproduce some
