I often wonder as I
pass by here whether this figure inspired Marion Crawford when he was
casting about for a title to his novel which you may have read, _The
Witch of Prague_. There lingers a strong, a powerfully attractive
_allure_ of old Prague, just about this quarter, at the left bank end of
the Charles Bridge. There is a quaint old tower that dates from Queen
Judith's time. I have already pointed it out to you, and told you that
it was until fairly recently used as a lock-up. The battlement across
the gateway used to bear indications of rough justice as executed in
those days; it was frequently adorned with the heads of rebels, traitors
or others who had become unpopular, as, for instance, one Bohemicky. It
appears that Bohemicky was quite unable to get along with his
fellow-citizens, so they had his head off and added to the collection
over the gateway. This happened in 1517, when the nations had emerged
out of the darkness of the Middle Age and were struggling along by the
yet uncertain light of civil progress and religious reform.

The tower on the right bank end of the Charles Bridge bears every
indication of dating from King Wenceslaus IV, as his device, the
kingfisher, is found to figure in its decorative scheme. Between these
two bridgeheads passes a good deal of the historic pageant of Old
Prague. Wenceslaus IV played about here a good deal, it would appear.
First of all we have that little affair with Susanna of the
bathing-place. Then there was a story about one John Nepomuk which
seems to have made less stir at the time of the event narrated than its
echo did some centuries later. John Nepomuk was a pious soul, as a
priest should be, modest and seemly in his ways. He just comes in, as it
were, in the background, of the squabbles that Wenceslaus and his
Archbishop, John of Jenstein, constantly indulged in. Wenceslaus was all
for reforming the Church before reforming himself. As to John Nepomuk, I
am rather puzzled about him. The people of Bohemia, on the whole, seem
to reverence him as a saint, one of the patrons of their country.

Some saints are a long time in coming to their own. The powers that
decide such matters are very deliberate; they are "left at the post"
even by such august institutions as Royal Commissions, Parish Councils
and Leagues of Nations. We all know how long it took before Joan of Arc
was duly canonized, yet her case was perfectly clear; she had her
visions, she acted upon them, sh