“One more question.  Are there no entailed estates amongst your aristocracy?”

“Very few, indeed, even among the richest aristocracy.  An Act of entailment can, it is true, be founded, but it is rarely permitted, being looked upon with disfavour for reasons of political economy.  Such an Act would require in any case the special permission of the sovereign and of Government; and then the estate is placed under a special court.  Without special permission from this court neither an alteration of the Act can take place, nor is sale or mortgage allowed.  Hungarian law also interposes some restrictions in the case of a testator, who must leave by will at least half his property to his children.  And with regard to women, the law with us is specially careful to preserve a woman’s legal existence after marriage.”

CHAPTER XXIII.

Fine scenery in Szeklerland—­Csik Szent Marton—­Absence of inns—­The Szekler’s love of lawsuits—­Csik Szereda—­Hospitality along the, road—­Wallack atrocities in 1848—­The Wallacks not Panslavists.

The charming scenery of the Szeklerland, and the kindly hospitality of the people, induced me to linger on.  I had many a ride through those glorious primeval forests, where the girth of the grand old oak-trees and their widespreading branches are in themselves a sight to see:  the beech, too, are very fine.  Climbing farther, the deciduous woods give place to sombre pine-trees—­the greybeards of the mountain.  A great charm in this part of the country, at least from a picturesque point of view, is the affluence of water.  Every rocky glen has its gurgling rill, every ravine its stream, which, at an hour’s notice almost, may become a mountain torrent, should a storm break over the watershed.  A plague of waters is no unfrequent occurrence, as the farmer in the valley knows to his cost.  Fields are laid under water, and the turbulent streams often bring down great masses of earth and rock in a way that becomes “monotonous” for the man who has to clear his land or his roads of the debris.  Mr Judd remarks that the volcanic rocks of Hungary have “suffered enormously from denuding causes.”  Every fresh storm reminds one that the process is in active operation.

After finally leaving Tusnad, I rode on to Csik Szent Marton, where, as there was no inn, I had to present myself at the best house in the place and crave their hospitality.  My request was taken as a matter of course, and they received me with the greatest kindness; in fact it was with great difficulty that I could get away the next day.  My host entreated me to remain longer, and when he found that I was really bent on departing, he gave me several letters of introduction to friends of his along the road I was likely to travel.  It was a very acceptable act of kindness, for there are hardly any inns in this part of the country.  “If Transylvania is an odd corner of Europe,”