the pictures themselves are so shocking and ghastly, they seem better calculated to excite horror than reverence.  It was really repulsive to look on images of the Saviour covered with blood, and generally with swords sticking in different parts of the body.  The Almighty is represented as an old man, wearing a Bishop’s mitre, and the image of the Virgin is always drest in a gay silk robe, with beads and other ornaments.  From the miserable painting, the faces often had an expression that would have been exceedingly ludicrous, if the shock given to our feelings of reverence were not predominant.  The poor, degraded peasants always uncovered or crossed themselves when passing by these shrines, but it appeared to be rather the effect of habit than any good impulse, for the Bohemians are noted all over Germany for their dishonesty; we learned by experience they deserve it.  It is not to be wondered at either; for a people so poor and miserable and oppressed will soon learn to take advantage of all who appear better off than themselves.  They had one custom which was touching and beautiful.  At the sound of the church bell, as it rung the morning, noon and evening chimes, every one uncovered, and repeated to himself a prayer.  Often, as we rested at noon on a bank by the roadside, that voice spoke out from the house of worship and every one heeded its tone.  Would that to this innate spirit of reverence were added the light of Knowledge, which a tyrannical government denies them!

The third night of our journey we stopped at the little village of Stecken, and the next morning, after three hours’ walk over the ridgy heights, reached the old Moravian city of Iglau, built on a hill.  It happened to be Corpus Christi day, and the peasants of the neighborhood were hastening there in their gayest dresses.  The young women wore a crimson scarf around the head, with long fringed and embroidered ends hanging over the shoulders, or falling in one smooth fold from the back of the head.  They were attired in black velvet vests, with full white sleeves and skirts of some gay color, which were short enough to show to advantage their red stockings and polished shoe-buckles.  Many of them were not deficient in personal beauty—­there was a gipsy-like wildness in their eyes, that combined with their rich hair and graceful costume, reminded me of the Italian maidens.  The towns too, with their open squares and arched passages, have quite a southern look; but the damp, gloomy weather was enough to dispel any illusion of this kind.

In the neighborhood of Iglau, and, in fact, through the whole of Bohemia, we saw some of the strangest teams that could well be imagined.  I thought the Frankfort milkwomen with their donkeys and hearse-like carts, were comical objects enough, but they bear no comparison with these Bohemian turn-outs.  Dogs—­for economy’s sake, perhaps—­generally supply the place of oxen or horses, and it is no uncommon thing to see three large mastiffs abreast, harnessed