where he should be condemned to breathe
all day long foul air, abundantly mixed with minute portions of flax
and wool, you would probably find, at the end of the year, that he was
not what he used to be ere he took to spinning. I think, then, that I
am right in concluding that the mountaineers of Bohemia would be like
the mountaineers of Scotland, were they similarly employed; and I am
quite sure that a more revolting spectacle is not to be seen anywhere
than that which a mountain district presents, of which the inhabitants
are chiefly weavers.

It is not, however, entirely to their devotion to sedentary pursuits
that we are justified in attributing the squalid and unhealthy
appearance of these highlanders. They are all manufacturers on their
own account. They do not work for any master, nor receive, as a
necessary consequence, regular wages; but they card the flax, spin the
thread, weave the web, and carry it to market, all at their own risk,
and in obedience to the spirit of speculation. If the articles take,
then are they well off for a season; if the contrary result ensue, they
must carry it home again, and sad, indeed, is their condition. I need
scarcely add, that it was by these mountaineers, and their rivals on
the Prussian side of the Riesengebirg range, that the most valuable of
the German cotton and linen goods used to be produced; and that, till
within the last quarter of a century, even our own manufacturers were
quite unable to compete with them. The case is now, however, widely
different, and they feel and mourn the result bitterly. Nor is it
surprising that there should be gendered among them a strong prejudice
against the English people. They carry this so far, in many instances,
as to believe that the Bohemian and Silesian marks are forged by the
manufacturers of Manchester and Glasgow; and that their goods are
thrown back upon their hands because an inferior article is palmed off
at the great fairs, and sold as if fabricated by themselves.

When people lose their way in other countries, it is for the lack of
roads. In Bohemia, the multiplicity of roads is quite perplexing. I am
sure that we went this day a full league, if not more, out of our way,
from repeatedly following the wrong path, and being as often compelled
to retrace our steps. Once, after climbing to the ridge of a lofty
mountain, we learned, to our horror, that the road which we ought to
have pursued, ran in the very bottom of the glen w