Lest We Forget Part 5

At once, instantly, we were conscious of our own patriotism. For down within us all is something deeper than personal interests, than personal kinships, than party feeling, and this is the need and the will to devote ourselves to that more general interest which Rome called the public thing, _Res publica_. And this profound will within us is Patriotism.

Our country is not a mere gathering of persons or of families dwelling on the same soil, having amongst themselves relations, more or less intimate, of business, of neighborhood, of a community of memories, happy or unhappy. Not so; it is an a.s.sociation of living souls to be defended and safeguarded at all costs, even the cost of blood, under the leadership of those presiding over its fortunes. And it is because of this general spirit that the people of a country live a common life in the present, through the past, through the aspirations, the hopes, the confidence in a life to come, which they share together.

Patriotism, an internal principle of order and of unity, an organic bond of the members of a nation, was placed by the finest thinkers of Greece and Rome at the head of the natural virtues.

ENDURANCE

We may now say, my Brethren, without unworthy pride, that our little Belgium has taken a foremost place in the esteem of nations. I am aware that certain onlookers, notably in Italy and in Holland, have asked how it could be necessary to expose this country to so immense a loss of wealth and of life, and whether a verbal manifesto against hostile aggression, or a single cannon-shot on the frontier, would not have served the purpose of protest. But a.s.suredly all men of good feeling will be with us in our rejection of these paltry counsels.

On the 19th of April, 1839, a treaty was signed in London, by King Leopold, in the name of Belgium on the one part, and by the Emperor of Austria, the King of France, the Queen of England, the King of Prussia, and the Emperor of Russia on the other; and its seventh article decreed that Belgium should form a separate and perpetually neutral State, and should be held to the observance of this neutrality in regard to all other States. The signers promised, for themselves and their successors, upon their oaths, to fulfill and to observe that treaty in every point and every article. Belgium was thus bound in honor to defend her own independence. She kept her oath. The other Powers were bound to respect and to protect her neutrality. Germany violated her oath; England kept hers.

These are the facts.

The laws of conscience are sovereign laws. We should have acted unworthily had we evaded our obligation by a mere feint of resistance. And now we would not change our first resolution; we exult in it. Being called upon to write a most solemn page in the history of our country, we resolved that it should be also a sincere, also a glorious page. And as long as we are required to give proof of endurance, so long we shall endure.

All cla.s.ses of our citizens have devoted their sons to the cause of their country; but the poorer part of the population have set the n.o.blest example, for they have suffered also privation, cold, and famine. If I may judge of the general feeling from what I have witnessed in the humbler quarters of Malines, and in the most cruelly afflicted districts of my diocese, the people are energetic in their endurance. They look to be righted; they will not hear of surrender.

The sole lawful authority in Belgium is that of our King, of the elected representatives of the nation. This authority alone has a right to our affection, our submission.

Occupied provinces are not conquered provinces. Belgium is no more a German province than Galicia is a Russian province.

Nevertheless the occupied portion of our country is in a position it is compelled to endure. The greater part of our towns, having surrendered to the enemy on conditions, are bound to observe those conditions. From the outset of military operations, the civil authorities of the country urged upon all private persons the necessity of avoiding hostile acts against the enemy's army. That instruction remains in force. It is our army, and our army solely, in league with the brave troops of our Allies, that has the honor and the duty of national defense.

Let us intrust the army with our final deliverance.

Towards the persons of those who are holding dominion among us by military force, and who cannot but know of the energy with which we have defended, and are still defending, our independence, let us conduct ourselves with all needful forbearance. Let us observe the rules they have laid upon us so long as those rules do not violate our personal liberty, nor our consciences, nor our duty to our country. Let us not take bravado for courage, nor tumult for bravery.

Our distress has moved the other nations. England, Ireland, and Scotland; France, Holland, the United States, Canada, have vied with each other in generosity for our relief. It is a spectacle at once most mournful and most n.o.ble. Here again is a revelation of the Providential Wisdom which draws good from evil. In your name, my Brethren, and in my own, I offer to the governments and the nations that have succored us the a.s.surance of our admiration and our grat.i.tude.

OZYMANDIAS

I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert.... Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those pa.s.sions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.

PERCY BYSSHE Sh.e.l.lEY.

AND THE c.o.c.k CREW[1]

"I hate them all!" said old Gaspard, And in his weather-beaten face The lines of bitterness grew hard, For he had seen his dwelling-place Laid waste in very wantonness, And all his little treasures flung Into that never-sated press From which no wine, but gall, had sprung-- And not his heart alone was sore, For in his frail old limbs he bore Wounds of the heavy, ruthless hand That weighed so cruelly of late Upon the people and the land.

It was not hard to understand Why old Gaspard should hate Even the German lad who lay His neighbor in the hospital, The boy who pleaded night and day: "Don't let me die! don't let me die!

When I see the dawn, I know I shall live out that day, and then I'm not afraid--till dark--but oh, How soon the night comes round again!

Don't let me die! don't let me die!"

The old man muttered at each low, Pitiful, half delirious cry, "They should die, had I the say, In h.e.l.l's own torment, one and all!"

And then would drag himself away, Despite each motion's agony, To where the wounded poilus lay, And cheer them with his mimicry Of barnyard noises, and his gay Old songs of what life used to be.

One night the lad suddenly cried, "Mother!" And though the sister knew-- He was so young, so terrified, "You're safe--the east is light," she lied.

But "No!" he sobbed, "the c.o.c.k must crow Before the dawn!" They did not hear A cripple crawl across the floor, But all at once, outside the door, In the courtyard, shrill and clear, Once, twice and thrice, chanticleer crew.

The blue eyes closed and the boy sighed, "I'm not afraid, now day's begun.

I'll live--till--" With a smile, he died.

And in that hour when he denied The G.o.d of hate, I think that One Pa.s.sed through the hospital's dim yard And turning, looked on old Gaspard.

AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] COPYRIGHT BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

A BELGIAN LAWYER'S APPEAL

One of the great lawyers of Belgium in behalf of the members of the bar of Brussels, Liege, Ghent, Charleroi, Mons, Louvain, and Antwerp, appeared twice before the German Court of Justice at Brussels and appealed for more just treatment of the Belgian people. In his first appeal, he protested against the illegal manner in which the Belgians were accused of crime, tried, and convicted at the pleasure of German officials. He concluded with the following eloquent words:

I can understand martial law for armies in the field. It is the immediate reply to an aggression against the troops, the quick justice of the commander of the army responsible for his soldiers. But our armies are far away; we are no longer in the zone of military operations. Nothing here threatens your troops, the inhabitants are calm.

The people have taken up work again. You have bidden them do it.

Each one attends to his business--magistrates, judges, officials of the provinces and cities, the clergy, all are at their posts, united in one outburst of national interest and brotherhood.

However, this does not mean that they have forgotten. The Belgian people lived happily in their corner of the earth, confident in their dream of independence. They saw this dream dispelled; they saw their country ruined and devastated; its ancient hospitable soil has been sown with thousands of tombs where our own sleep; the war has made tears flow which no hand can dry. No, the murdered soul of Belgium will never forget.

His second appeal will be spoken by school children in Belgium, and perhaps in America, when the names of the German judges to whom he spoke are forgotten even in Germany.

We are not annexed. We are not conquered. We are not even vanquished. Our army is fighting. Our colors float alongside those of France, England, and Russia. The country subsists. She is simply unfortunate. More than ever, then, we now owe ourselves to her, body and soul. To defend her rights is also to fight for her.

We are living hours now as tragic as any country has ever known.

All is destruction and ruin around us. Everywhere we see mourning. Our army has lost half of its effective forces. Its percentage in dead and wounded will never be reached by any of the belligerents. There remains to us only a corner of ground over there by the sea. The waters of the Yser flow through an immense plain peopled by the dead. It is called the Belgian Cemetery. There sleep our children by the thousands. There they are sleeping their last sleep. The struggle goes on bitterly and without mercy.

Your sons, Mr. President, are at the front; mine as well. For months we have been living in anxiety regarding the morrow.

Why these sacrifices, why this sorrow? Belgium could have avoided these disasters, saved her existence, her treasures, and the lives of her children, but she preferred her honor.

EDITH CAVELL

Americans are particularly interested in the story of Edith Cavell, because the American minister in Brussels on behalf of the American people asked German officials to spare her life, or at least to postpone her execution, until he might have an opportunity to see that she was properly defended. Germany's disregard of America and the wishes of the American people was clearly shown by the scornful manner in which Germany set aside as of no importance American protests and requests. Her action in this case was similar to her action earlier in regard to the _Lusitania_, involving in both cases direct falsehoods by representatives of the German government.

Germans wondered that the shooting of an English woman for treason should cause a sensation, just as they wondered why even their enemies did not applaud them for murdering more than a thousand non-combatants on the _Lusitania_. They did not realize that both of these crimes would add thousands of volunteers to the armies fighting against them, and that they would always be recorded in history as among the most despicable deeds of a civilized nation. Some one has said, "Attila and his Huns were ignorant barbarians, but the modern Huns know better and therefore they are more to be condemned."

Edith Cavell was so brave, so frank, so honest that it would seem that even to the Germans her virtues would