to stronger measures, take the law into his own hands and assault
him, the aggrieved party complains to the head man of the village.
In every village the head man is the fountain of justice. He holds
his office sometimes by right of superior wealth, or intelligence,
or hereditary succession, not unfrequently by the unanimous wish of
his fellow-villagers. On a complaint being made to him, he summons
both parties and their witnesses. The complainant is then allowed to
nominate two men, to act as assessors or jurymen on his behalf, his
nominations being liable to challenge by the opposite party. The
defendant next names two to act on his behalf, and if these are
agreed to by both parties, these four, with the head man, form what
is called a _punchayiet_, or council of five, in fact, a jury. They
examine the witnesses, and each party to the suit conducts his own
case. The whole village not unfrequently attends to hear what goes on.
In a mere caste or private quarrel, only the friends of the parties
will attend. Every case is tried in public, and all the inhabitants of
the village can hear the proceedings if they wish. Respectable
inhabitants can remark on the proceedings, make suggestions, and give
an opinion. Public feeling is thus pretty accurately gauged and
tested, and the _punchayiet_ agree among themselves on the verdict. To
the honour of their character for fair play be it said, that the
decision of a _punchayiet_ is generally correct, and is very seldom
appealed against. Our complicated system of law, with its delays, its
technicalities, its uncertainties, and above all its expense, its
stamp duties, its court fees, its bribes to native underlings, and the
innumerable vexations attendant on the administration of justice in
our revenue and criminal courts, are repugnant to the villager of
Hindostan. They are very litigious, and believe in our desire to give
them justice and protection to life and property; but our courts are
far too costly, our machinery of justice is far too intricate and