A Bohemian Journal [pp. 204-209]

A BOHEMIAN N0 UR_A0L.N0
that, by some means, after a like buffet from
ugly fortune, I should somehow find courage to
eat, sleep, and, it may as well be confessed, even
write; for what were life without writing? But
one thing could be worse, and only its frequency
keeps us from taking note of it, namely, writing
without life.
But I hear, or fancy I do, which comes to
much the same thing, somne good-natured reader,
who is nothing if not critical, even in his kindliness, exclaim, A Bohemian Journal! I am
sorry I can not convey the surprise, dashed
perchance with a touch of good-natured contempt, which is bitten into that word, Bohemian,
as with a mordant, by the sly enmphlasis with
which it is uttered. It requires some courage,
therefore, to repeat quietly, A Bohemian Journal! Well, why not? Mind, I have not said a
journal in Bohemian; for though I amn modestly
not unwilling that my attainments in that language should pass unlauded, I affirm freely
enough my belief that such a journal would
hardly suit your meridian. Nor is it a Bohlemian's journal which is proposed; for, whether
to my credit or not, I can not trace my blood to
such outlandish fountains. In all my researches
I have only been able to discover Yankee and
Scotch elements in my parentage, a mixture of
shrewd bloods not to be excelled even by a
cross of Gascons with Normans. The effect of
such an ancestry is somewhat peculiar. Some
days I am entirely Scotch, as much so as if I
lived under the shadow of Ben-Nevis, spoke
Gaelic, and ate garlic; at other times I am all
Yankee, as truly so as any of those who sailed
the wintery seas in the ever-blooming Mayflower; and then again, so evenly do these dissimilar if not hostile elements mingle in me
that I can fancy myself blowing the bagpipe
and making a stump-speech at the same moment. It is a wonder, on the whole, that men
do not reveal stranger qualities than they com monly do. It is said to be impossible so to
civilize Gipsy blood by intermarriage that the
original vagabondism of the parent will not now
and then show itself in his posterity. Indian
blood may always be traced, tliougll it flow in
whiter veins than it is wont to, as witness
John Randolph boasting his descent from Po cahontas. Powhatan was not so genuine a
savage in his native woods as his descendant in
the halls of Congress. Powhatan could be
moved to mercy; but when did Randolph ever
show it? How peculiar must be the inherited
longings of the offspring of a man who was
born under the North star, but married a wife
who first saw the light under the line? How
quaintly the tropic heats and fevers must blend
in the currents of their blood with polar chills
and shivers! what confused longings for repasts of whale's blubber, garnished with a dessert of oranges and bananas
In passing through Bohemia, I was not for a
moment aware of any such strange thrills in my
blood as would naturally announce my nearness
to its sacred fount and origin. Not a single
hint did I receive that I had ever been there
before, federally, representatively, potentially,
or in any other way. No armor which I wore
in the Trojan or any other war, lost its selfpossession at my presence, or claimed the renewal of former acquaintance. I was literally a
stranger, journeying in a strange land. The
land was Bohemia, and the journey was taken
on foot. Perhaps a better title for these papers
would be this: Diary of a Foot-(sore) Journey
through Bohemia, in August, I867, by a Clergyman from America. But sometimes even a
writer plays the tyrant, and upholds things' as
they are merely by his own will. Stet pro ratione voluntas. The well-known recipe for baking a hlare, says that you must first catch your
hare; so the first step toward a journey in Bohemia-is to get to Bohemia. This was the sage
conclusion to which two clerical friends and
myself came early last August, in Dresden, the
famous and beautiful capital of dwindled Saxony. The day before our departure we went to
the railway station to ask the needful questions.
We learned that two trains left Dresden for
Prague every morning, one at seven o'clock and
the other at eleven, and that they would both
reach the latter place at about five in the afternoon. The early train, being what the Germans
call a mixed train, proceeds with true Teutonic
deliberation; while the second, though a lightning train, would surely never run over any
body without due previous notice. Desiring to
see as much of the country as possible, we de cided to go by the mixed train; and, wishing to
see the true people rather than the richer class,
we took the third-class cars.
The early sun was hardly earlier than we, for
we had not a little to do before setting off on
our pilgrimage. However, he gave us the wel come promise of a fine day, and thus con tributed his not unimportant part to our happi ness. On the way to the spacious and elegant
depot, the fact became evident that the Yankee
had possession of us for the day. It is on
occasions like this that I feel most sensibly
the two different natures that dwell in me.
The Scotchman does not like travel, both be cause of his home-keeping habits, and because
the expense is too great for his thrifty frugality.
This morning, therefore, he called out, just as I
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