world's weight," that Komensky wrote the "Labyrinth."
Believers in Taine's theory of "milieu" will certainly be strengthened in their belief if they visit Brandeis after reading the "Labyrinth." The little town nestles at the banks of the rapid, grey, dolorous Orlice. The narrow valley in which the town is situated is encircled, and, as it were, weighed down by never-ending pine-forests that rise abruptly in all directions, but particularly in that of the Klopota Hill, under which Komensky's hut stood. This spot, memorable as being the one where he conceived the "Labyrinth," is now marked by a small monument erected to him by his grateful countrymen. Straight before him, separated only by the Orlice, stood the city of Brandeis, with its wide market-place, to which all the small streets converged. Immediately behind the town stood, as a "Castle of Fortune," the ancient castle of the Zerotins, then already a ruin. Situated on a steep and abrupt rock, it so entirely overlooks the town that the traveller can see directly beneath him the market-place "crowded with people as with insects." This is particularly the case during the summer months, for Brandeis has now become a fashionable summer resort of the citizens of Prague.
It is, of course, as a mere conjecture that I venture to suggest that Komensky had the city of Brandeis and the neighbouring scenery in his mind when he wrote the "Labyrinth." Such conjectures have not, perhaps, great value, even when
