LETTER LXXXI.

Prague.

Bohemia, though by no means so fertile, or so fine a country as Saxony, does not deserve the bad character which some travellers have given it. I thought many places very beautiful, and varied with the most agreeable rural objects.

Prague, the capital of Bohemia, stands in a hollow, surrounded on all sides with hills. Those nearest the town, and which command it, are comprehended within the fortifications. It is a very large town, retaining some marks of former splendor, but many more evident symptoms of present decay—Symptoms which naturally attend those places which once have been the residence of royalty, and are so no more.

All the houses, with any appearance of magnificence, are old, and it is not probable, that any new ones will be built in that style: for the Bohemian nobility, who are in circumstances to bear such an expence, live at Vienna, and the trade and manufactures of this town are not sufficient to enable any of the mercantile people to build fine houses.

In whatever degree this city may have dwindled in wealth and magnificence, the piety of the inhabitants certainly flourishes as much as ever. I do not recollect to have seen so many glaring marks of devotion in any place. The corners of the streets, bridges, and public buildings, are all ornamented with crucifixes, images of the Virgin of all sizes and complexions, and statues of Saints of every country, condition, age, and sex. People are to be seen on their knees before these statues in every part of this city, but particularly on the large bridge over the Moldaw, where there is the greatest concourse of passengers. This bridge is so profusely adorned with the statues of Saints, that crossing over it, you have a row of them on each side, like two ranks of musketeers.

Travellers, especially such as arrive directly from Berlin, must be astonished at the people’s devotion in this city, in a particular manner at the vehemence with which it is expressed by those who exhibit before the saints upon the bridge.

Not contented with kneeling, I saw some prostrate themselves on their faces, kissing the earth; and others, who offered their petitions to these saints with such earnestness and fervour, that, if their hearts had not been of stone, they must have paid more attention to the petitioners than they seemed to do.

There is one saint who has more votaries than all the rest put together—Saint Nepomuc, I think they call him:—As my acquaintance with saints is not extensive, I never heard of him till I came hither, but his reputation is very great in this town. This saint, it seems, was ordered by some cruel tyrant, to be thrown over a bridge, and his neck was broke by the fall, and he is supposed to retain a particular affection for bridges ever since; an effect something different from what was to have been expected from the cause; however, the people here are persuaded, that so it happened to Saint Nepomuc; and to put the fact beyond controversy, he is at this moment the tutelar saint of bridges;—almost all those in Bohemia are dedicated to him. He has also the reputation of excelling every saint in heaven in the cure of barrenness in women.—How his character for this was established, I did not enquire.

It is a melancholy reflection, that the wealthy are more careless about religious duties than the indigent, and that poverty and piety are so often linked together. I often observed, when we stopped at any town or village, which had symptoms of great poverty, that the inhabitants seemed also unusually devout.

It would appear, that hope is a more powerful sentiment in the human breast than gratitude, since those who ought to feel the greatest thankfulness to Heaven display the least.

We found an acquaintance at Prague when we least expected it; for as the D—— of H—— and I stood talking in the streets, a priest, who belongs to a seminary of learning in this town, overheard us; upon which he stopped, and after looking at us very earnestly for some time, he at length came up, and addressed us in these words:—I do assure you now, I am an Irishman too. This easy kind of introduction soon produced a degree of intimacy; I asked how he knew so readily that we were Irish? Am I not after hearing you speak English, my dear? replied the honest priest, for he really was a very honest obliging fellow, and the most useful and entertaining Cicerone we could have had at Prague.

After having visited the royal apartments, they shewed us the window in the secretary of state’s office, from whence three noblemen were thrown in the year 1618. This was rather a violent mode of turning out the people in power; but it is probable the party in opposition had tried gentler means in vain.

As one great use of history is to furnish lessons and examples, by which posterity in all ages may profit, I do not think it would be amiss to remind your friends in administration of this adventure, that they may move off quietly before their opponents take desperate measures. For it has been observed, that the enemies of tottering statesmen are much more active than their friends, who, when things come to the last push, are apt to stand aloof,

Like people viewing, at a distance,

Three men thrown out of a casement,

Who never stir to their assistance,

But just afford them their amazement.

In case however a similar outrage should be threatened in England, it is to be hoped that Apollo (as he was wont of old when any of his friends were in danger) will interpose with a cloud, and save the Minister; for, in the present scarcity of wit and good humour, it would be a thousand pities to lose a man so much distinguished for both, at one desperate throw.

We walked over the heights from which the Prussians attempted to carry the town, immediately after the defeat of Prince Charles of Lorraine and Count Brown. The bombardment of this town was a more defensible measure than that of Dresden; for while the army within were under the dejection natural after the loss of a battle, and unprepared for a siege, it might be supposed, that the confusion and terror produced by the bombardment, joined to the vast consumption of provisions by such a numerous garrison, would induce the besieged to surrender. But although the King’s humanity has not been called in question for his conduct here, I have heard many military men censure him for want of prudence, particularly on account of his desperate attempt at Kolin, when, leaving the half of his army to continue the blockade of Prague, he marched with little more than thirty thousand men, and attacked an army of double that number, strongly situated, and commanded by one of the ablest generals of the age.

After all, it is more than probable, that the King had very good reasons for his conduct. But as the attempt was unsuccessful, and as the sad reverse of the Prussian affairs may be dated from that epoch, the voice of censure has been very loud in blaming an action, which would have been exalted to the skies had it been crowned with success. If Hannibal had by any accident been defeated at Cannæ, it is very possible, that historians would have found out many reasons why he should not have fought that battle, and would have endeavoured to prove, that his former victories had been gained by chance, and that he was a mere ignoramus in the art of war.

Adieu, my good friend; I wish you good luck in all your undertakings, that you may continue to be reckoned by the world, a man of prudence.