There are several other churches which have survived the chances and changes of centuries, among these one which appeals to me on account of its modesty. This church is tucked away among a congerie of respectable elderly buildings that cluster to eastward of the Stepanska Ulice, one of the thoroughfares that link up the higher lying part of the Nové Město, the New Town, with the Václavské Náměsti. This church has indeed a somewhat neglected look: its quaint pointed steeple rises almost apologetically above some scrubby trees, and hardly ventures to o'ertop the grimy houses, that close it round. Nevertheless this ancient church should have reason to hold high its head, for Bohemia's great King and Father built it and dedicated it to a carefully selected saint, to wit St. Stephen. St. Stephen's Church shows pleasant traces of the gracious spirit which informed the master mind in those golden days of Charles IV. Moreover, St. Stephen's Church has kept the best of exclusive company during the six centuries of its existence, for close by, separated only by a narrow lane, stands one of Prague's oldest temples, the romanesque chapel of St. Longinus which from its memories harking back to the first Přeysl King, Vladislav, probably looks upon its neighbour as a mere child.
You will have noticed how many and varied are the names of saints mentioned in these my reflections from "a Terrace in Prague." I do not profess deep knowledge of saints, and do not as a rule venture on the hallowed ground where saints disport themselves. Nevertheless, while dealing with the city of Prague in particular or the Bohemian people in general, and endeavouring to become acquainted with them, you are faced with the fact that there is in this country a strong and no doubt commendable attraction towards saints of all possible varieties, and, let us hope, a favourable reaction on the part of the latter. I do not suggest that a saints' day merely means a holiday.
To begin with, the Bohemians, on taking to Christianity at all, started with some very fine vintage saints of their own growing. You have heard all about them: Ludmilla, Wenceslaus, Milada, Adalbert. These estimable people were, after all, following the precepts of those who had brought the "Glad Tidings" to Bohemia, and therefore were entitled to high consideration and respect. We have met some of these most worthy people. There were the brothers Constantine (better known as Cyril) and Methodius, who did much missionary work in Central Europe, especially among those of their own, the Slavonic race, for these two were citizens of Solun (Salonika), where pure Slavonic was spoken in the ninth century. As Slavs these two missionaries were disliked by the Germans, but both Popes Adrian I and John VIII approved of them; we have heard how Methodius converted that stubborn pagan Prince Bořivoj. Another couple of saints whom I have mentioned before, Cosmas and Damian, have always been most popular in Bohemia. They came from the West, or at least their reputation did, for they had been martyred in the third or fourth century, before Czech and his merry men had arrived at Řip, before the Slavs had appeared in Europe in fact. Pope Felix III held these two gentlemen in high esteem, had dedicated a church to them in Rome, and his successors had no doubt recommended this worthy couple to the Bohemians when the latter began to ask for spiritual patronage. Cosmas and Damian, the oldest patron saints of Bohemian Christendom, became very popular, and many churches were dedicated to them; in fact, as we have seen, it was zeal in their cause that brought about the martyrdom of St. Wenceslaus. I believe these two, Cosmas and Damian, were precursors of that excellent body of medical missionaries who wisely get at a man's soul by healing his body. There must be something in my theory about Cosmas and Damian, as the medical faculty of Prague University put up a sculptured group supposed to represent these two saints, on the Charles Bridge, early in the eighteenth century. As portraiture this group is not convincing.
The leading patron saint of Prague seems to be St. Vitus; at least in the great cathedral dedicated to him he dominates not only the city but also his co-patron saints of this most famous of all the city's many churches. You will remember that in course of a friendly exchange of concessions between St. Wenceslaus and King Henry the Fowler the latter presented Bohemia's ruler with an arm of St. Vitus. I do not quite understand how St. Vitus came to hold such high importance in Bohemia. He was born in Sicily of pagan parents, poor perhaps, possibly honest, about the beginning of the fourth century. Two Christians, Modestus and Crescentia, taught young Vitus and converted him without his father's knowledge. There was nothing unusual in this. Vitus was martyred in Rome, an experience which might happen to any Christian in those days, and we hear no more about him until he appears as patron saint of a church founded about the middle of the ninth century on the Island of Rügen, by the monks of Corvey in Saxony. These monks had by some means or other got hold of the relics of St. Vitus; perhaps they parted with a bit to King Henry the Fowler, who then handed it on to Wenceslaus. The Slavonic islanders of Rügen relapsed into paganism but kept green the memory of St. Vitus, whom they worshipped as a god.
Whereas St. Wenceslaus secured only an arm of St. Vitus, King Charles acquired the rest of his body. St. Wenceslaus was, I fear, caught napping on several occasions. He is not dead, according to popular tradition, but sleeps inside a mountain, and sleeps soundly too, for he seems to have missed the resurrection of his people. By way of useful information I may tell you that the shrine of St. Wenceslaus is sanctuary for murderers, but I cannot say whether this custom still obtains under the constitution of the new Czecho-Slovak Republic.
King Charles arranged a great festival when the remains of St. Vitus reached the cathedral dedicated to him. With his own hands Charles placed a crown of gold upon the saintly head, or, as one old chronicler puts it with unexpected humour, upon the head of one or other St. Vitus. Charles was peculiarly expert in the matter of relics and a zealous collector, which shows his constant concern for his people's welfare, not only spiritual but physical as well. So, for instance, did that pious monarch cause the remains of St. Sigismund to be conveyed to Prague. St. Sigismund was a good sound sixth-century saint of France who in the days of Gregory of Tours had frequently been invoked to ward off fever; his remains would therefore be a useful asset as complement to the limited knowledge of the art of healing in those days. Not that I attach much importance to the opinion of Gregory of Tours. You may remember that he admired one Chlodovech, King of all the Franks, who outdid any other Teuton founder of kingdoms by his record of crime, of murder and treachery, and generally speaking he had a tough lot to compete against. Londoners have probably forgotten that they also have a famous febrifuge in their city's patron saint, St. Erkenwald, to whose shrine came many pilgrims for relief from pain. Modern pilgrims to London come in their thousands to watch football matches—there is little of healing in this. Other relics collected by Charles were the spear, a bit of the cross and a nail, and the tablecloth used at the Last Supper. All these precious relics, together with the crown jewels, were kept in a strong castle built by Charles for the purpose. You may catch a glimpse of this castle, Karlov Tyn, Karlstein, as you pass down the valley of the winding Berounka of a summer's evening, coming to Prague from Paris via Cheb. A day was set apart for the Feast of Relics, the Allatio Reliquiarum. On this day the relics were conveyed to the cathedral and exhibited to the people, and Charles had arranged that all who attended this solemn function should be granted indulgence. I take it there was no work done that day in Prague; as it happens this feast coincided with that set apart for several saints, Macarius and Abel, besides being the octave of St. Stephen, a further reason for holiday-making.
Talking of holidays in Prague, I came across one such fixed for August 9th, and seriously described by a sound old writer on the manners and customs of Bohemia. This feast was observed, I cannot say religiously, but with great enthusiasm, by the students of the University. It was called quite simply Beano. This will sound familiar to you, and you will probably pronounce it as if derived from the bean, the common or garden bean and the feast thereof. Not so. This Beano should be pronounced with due stress on each particular vowel, as if it were an Italian word; indeed, it is derived from the Latin. Attempts have been made to trace this word to early French influence at Prague University, and to derive it from bec-jaune, pronounced with a certain abandon. This, again, is wrong. Beano is, or was, the great day on which the new students, the "freshers," were initiated into the mysteries of scholastic life with all manner of weird ceremony and horrible observances. There was used much, indeed undue, emphasis, said some, in order to impress upon the youngsters that a serious change of life was upon them, for, quoth the elders: "Beanus est animal nesciens vitam studiosorum."