he knew his city was the centre of his race, for
"thither the tribes go up," and he took in only the big enduring things;
he held the key to the soul of the city.

Let us, then, approach the city of Prague in the right manner, prepared
to enter into the spirit of the place, to realize what it stands for,
what it has always stood for since those dim days when legend and
history entwined.

It is said that "all roads lead to Rome"; as many lead to Prague, as a
glance at the map will show. There are first of all those oldest of
roads--the waterways--along which moved wandering tribes in quest of
betterment and adventure. Two of these waterways meet just above Prague,
the Vltava and Berounka; they open out from the wooded heights of the
Bohemian Forest, the former river leading up towards a pass in those
heights over which you descend to the Danube near Linz, the latter
showing the way into the heart of Bohemia from the west from Bavaria. It
was by the latter route probably that the Boievari, a Celtic tribe, made
their way after a short stay in Bohemia, to settle in the land that is
called after them, Bavaria.

Bavarians, who had become thoroughly Germanized, and many other Teutons,
frequently found their way into Bohemia by this route, notably in the
fifteenth century, when a vast unwieldy army called up by Rome and led
by an English Cardinal, tried conclusions with a nation in arms inspired
by religious fervour and led by [vZ]i[vs]ka the Hussite, and was beaten
ignominiously.

All along this route are landmarks of a history which tells of the
attraction that Prague exercised on the rulers and people of
neighbouring countries.

[Illustration: MAP]

So Eger and Pilsen tell of the horrors of the War of Thirty Years, for
which a Bohemian nobleman was largely responsible. Of him and his doings
more hereafter. Eger, by the way is now called Cheb, a guttural _Ch_
which is a difficult sound to begin a word with, but you have got to
do it if you wish to be considered up to date. The Czech language is
difficult to pronounce, a fact of which the Czechs seem rather proud.
Pilsen, which is known to us chiefly (and rightly) for its good beer, is
now spelt Plzen; this, however, makes little difference to the
pronunciation, and happily none at all to the quality of the beer. The
Czechs are just a bit sparing of vowels; they prefer a good fat cluster
of consonants, as, for instance, in Vltava, Brno, and other such pretty
names, bu