Whether we view this ancient capital of Bohemia from the bridge below, or the monastery above, we must acknowledge that, next to Constantinople, Prague is the most picturesque city in Europe. It is, however, from the central arch of the longest bridge in Germany, and certainly the most _sainted_ one, that we have the finest view of a vast amphitheatre rising tier above tier, from the broad stream of the Moldau, till the highest ridges of the precipices seem groaning under the massive piles of buildings that crown their brows. The huge structure, called the HRADSCHIN, the palace of the Bohemian kings—frowns over endless domes, spires, turrets, minarets, churches, convents, and cathedrals. The eye comes down at length to a bridge more holy, though not more handsome, than the Santa Trinita over the Arno. There are nearly as many saints standing on the parapets here as there are sinners traversing the body of the bridge! The master saint (St. John Nepomuck) was a priest, who, refusing to disclose the secrets of the confessional, was pitched into the Moldau by King Winceslaus for his contempt of court. But murder will not sleep; and a flickering flame hovered over the spot where the priest lay in his watery shroud, till he was discovered, and his body encased in a gorgeous silver shrine, which may be still seen in the cathedral (enclosed within the Hradschin) and is, perhaps, the most costly tomb in the world. The silver alone weighs thirty-seven hundred weight! The body of the sainted priest lies in a crystal coffin of great value! The lions of Prague would require a volume for description, and as Murray has dedicated twenty-seven columns to short notices of the chief objects of curiosity, I shall not say a word on this head. Three or four days, or a week, may be well occupied here, and the environs are very pretty. But it is worthy of notice that, in this beautiful and picturesque capital of Bohemia, the average duration of life, is one-third less than in London! The annual mortality in Prague, is one in twenty-two. In London it is not more than one in thirty-two. The Jews, who are here, as at Rome, crowded into a low and dirty quarter on the banks of the river, are longer lived than their tyrannical Christian oppressors. They are also more prolific.