In slight offences rather against good order than against law, the _hofrichfer_, or steward of a magnat, may at all times punish a peasant with stripes. For this purpose he is provided with a machine like a low table, on which the culprit lies, with two iron cramps at one end for confining the wrists, two at the other for securing the ankles, and a large one in the middle to pass over the back. Stretched out in this helpless situation, the culprit receives a certain number of stripes on the bare back with a stick. A notorious robber taken in the act may be put to death. When the case is not so clear, and confession cannot be obtained from the accused by examination, recourse is had to the discipline just described; and should this expedient also fail, and there be strong presumption of guilt, the prisoner is brought to trial before a court composed of servants of the lord and a few respectable freemen. From the decision of this court, which is completely under the influence of the magnat, appeals indeed lie to higher courts, and capital punishment cannot be inflicted without the sanction of those courts and also of the king. Dr. Bright draws a striking but most revolting picture of a Hungarian prison. The place chosen for the confinement of prisoners, says that writer, is usually close adjoining to, or forms part of the dwelling of the lord: and as they are generally employed in labour, the traveller seldom approaches the house of a Hungarian noble who possesses the _jus gladii_, without being shocked by the clanking of chains and the exhibition of these objects of misery loaded with irons. The prison itself is never concealed from the curiosity of strangers; I should almost say that it is considered a boast, a kind of badge of the power which the lord possesses. One of the best I saw was at Keszthely. It forms an insignificant part of a large low building immediately opposite to the entrance of the castle, in which are the residences of several inferior officers of the estate. Under the guidance of the keeper of the prison I entered by a door well barred and bolted. Instantly seventeen figures all in the long Hungarian cloak, rose from the ground on which they were sitting. Besides themselves, the room, which was not above twelve feet square, presented no one object--no table, bed or chair. It was ventilated and lighted by several small grated windows high up in the sides of the walls. The prisoners were most of them young men: some had been tried, others had not; and some had been confined seven or eight years. Their crimes were very different; but no difference was made in the mode of treating them, excepting as to the number of lashes they were to receive at stated times, or the number of years they were to be imprisoned. Such was their residence in the day-time when they did not go out to work. We next proceeded to the dungeon in which they are confined during the night, the gaoler taking the precaution to