EIGHTH SERIES } No. 3750 May 20, 1916 CONTENTS FROM BEGINNING VOL. CCLXXXIX I. Luxemburg and the War. By Francis Gribble. EDINBURGH REVIEW 451 II. "Holy Russia." By the Right Rev. Bishop Bury NINETEENTH CENTURY AND AFTER 463 III. Barbara Lynn. Chapter XXIV. Winter. By Emily Jenkinson. (To be concluded) 470 IV. The Question of Sex in Fiction. By R. F. ATHENAEUM 475 (To be continued) BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE 479 VI. VII. A Green Englishman. By S. Macnaughtan. (Concluded) 490 OUTLOOK 499 VIII. The Heart of France. By Our Military Correspondent IX. On Being a Married Man NEW STATESMAN TIMES 502 505 X. The Aura of the Edifice SPECTATOR 508 A PAGE OF VERSE XI. The Joy of Earth. By A. E. 450 XII. The Songs Erin Sings. By Alfred Perceval Graves 450 BOOKMAN 450 XIII. Fate the Jester. By Vivien Ford XIV. The National Anthem of Japan. Translated by Clara A. Walsh BOOKS AND AUTHORS PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY THE LIVING AGE COMPANY 6 BEACON STREET, BOSTON 450 511 TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION For SIX DOLLars, remitted directly to the Publishers, THE Living Age will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage, to any part of the United States. To Canada the postage is 50 cents per annum. Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office or express money order if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks express and money orders should be made payable to the order of THE LIVING AGB Co. Single Copies of THE LIVING AGE, 15 cents. LUXEMBURG AND THE WAR. I arrived in the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg about three weeks before the outbreak of the war, and stayed there, in a country-place outside the main track of the military movements, until the end of October 1914. My movements were restricted. The Trier Commandant decreed that I must not wander beyond a radius of three kilometres from my hotel, and I made very few and only quite unimportant attempts to evade the edict; but that mattered little. Though I could not go about looking for news, plenty of news was brought to me, and also plenty of rumors, plenty of gossip, and plenty of criticism of the invader. There are many reasons why the Luxemburgers might have been expected to sympathize with the Germans. Included in the Zollverein, they do most of their trade with Germany. Though they belong to the Latin Monetary Union, they transact most of their business with German currency. The patois which they commonly speak, even in the best circles, has close affinities with the German language. Their hotels flourish on the support of German tourists. Many Germans have settled in their towns, and many of their daughters are married to Germans. And yet they do not like the Germans, and have never liked them. Before the war it was a case of "I do not love thee, Dr. Fell, After a week of war, the dislike had grown to loathing, and the reasons for the sentiment were obvious to all. During the whole of my stay in the Grand Duchy, I met only one man—a small shopkeeper-who frankly avowed a desire to see his country incorporated in the German Empire. "We should like," he said, "to remain a Grand Duchy, like Baden; but we already have all the inconveniences of inclusion in the Empire, and we may as well have the advantages also." But that man was a lunatic and a liar. I judged that, not only from the significant way in which his neighbors tapped their foreheads when referring to him, but also from his own conversation. Apart from this one small tradesman, all the Luxemburgers whom I met, to whatever class of society they belonged, detested the Germans. Or rather, to be strictly accurate, they detested the Prussians. Germans other than Prussians were vague figures whom they hardly visualized; but the figure of the Prussian was at once definite and odious to them-equally definite and equally odious to every Luxemburger from peasant to Prime Minister. It was the Prime Minister himselfM. Eyschen, whose recent death, probably hastened by Prussian vexations, is a great loss to his country-who summed them up in the most vigorous language. A foreigner belonging to one of the Allied Countries had asked M. Eyschen's advice and help in some matter of business which would have to pass through the hands of the Prussian military authorities. The advice given was to let the business slide and do nothing which would attract the attention of the Prussians, ne pas les mettre en eveil. And then followed the criticism: "Vous connaissez cette mentalite prussienne. Je n'ai pas besoin, je suppose, de vous renseigner la-dessus. Ils sont capables de n'importe quelle cochonnerie pour gagner la partie." They are; they have proved it in the Grand Duchy, in small matters as well as great; and it might be hard to say whether their grosser offenses or their trivial acts of arrogance and bad taste have left the greater bitterness behind them. Intense indignation was felt at the action of a member of the House of Metternich who, after having been billeted on one of the leading citizens of Diekirch and regaled on the best wine in the cellars, went away without paying his bill, leaving on the dining-room table his visiting card, bearing the message: "Thanks for your kind hospitality. God will reward you for it." would still have a few days' respite. ants were standing in a devotional attitude by the roadside, singing Die Wacht am Rhein; but there was no danger of molestation from them. They were ignorant people who hardly understood, as yet, who was the enemy, or what the excitement was about. Presently, however, I saw the glittering helmet of a corpulent gendarme who was toiling laboriously up the hill on a bicycle; and it seemed wiser to retire towards the frontier as he approached. As he drew near he gave me a significant look, which was probably meant as a good-natured warning. Interpreting it as such, I walked a few yards and so reached neutral ground; and then the gendarme gravely descended from his bicycle, and with equal gravity, drew a steel chain across the road between him and me. That was the formal closing of the frontier a ceremony simultaneously performed on all the roads entering the Grand Duchy from Prussia. A party of Luxemburg citizens who had been motoring that afternoon in Prussia had difficulties on their return. Their car was taken from them at the frontier, and they had to complete their journey on foot. One could multiply anecdotes of the kind, but these will suffice for the moment. They show what the feeling was, and they bear out, in their way, the statement which I heard that, if they had had an army of even ten thousand men, the Luxemburgers would have blown up their bridges, blown in their tunnels, and defied the Germans to come on. Having no army at all in the proper sense of the word, but only a Palace Guard and a military band, they could, of course, do nothing of the kind; and that is how they escaped the fate of the Belgians. But they had no illusionsno faith whatever in the plighted word of the King of Prussia; and they did not scruple to say so during the exciting days of the diplomatic preliminaries. They trusted the French, but the Germans they did not trust. "If there is war," they said, "the Germans will attack France through Luxemburg. The Prince Henri railway line is a German line, and we all know why the Germans built it." The one thing which they did not foresee was the rapidity of German action. They are themselves a leisurely people, as becomes a race given over to the cultivation of roses; and they did not realize all that an attaque brusquee might mean. They pictured the German army concentrating, as well as mobilizing, on German soil; and, in spite of their foresight, they were, in the end, taken by surprise, believing, even after the declaration of the Kriegszustand, that they ing the veil was lifted, and we knew what That was on the Friday. On the Saturday night we heard a report that a Prussian detachment had entered the Grand Duchy, somewhere further to the north, but we could not ascertain whether the rumor was true or false. At about ten o'clock on the Sunday morn we were in for; excited messengers running up the street with the news: "Les Prussiens sont a la gare de Luxembourg," This at a time when quite a number of tourists were on the hotel terrace, waiting for conveyances which would take them to Luxemburg, en route for France and Belgium. A good many of them started in spite of the obstruction. Those who were bound for Belgium got through, though they had to leave their luggage on the frontier. Those who were bound for France got as far as Luxemburg, but could get no further. I was one of the few who stayed behind; and that is how I came to know rather more than is generally known in England about the Prussian invasion and occupation of Luxemburg. It turned out to be true that the invasion had begun on the Saturday evening. A Prussian detachment had, in fact, appeared at the railway station of Trois Vierges, called in German Ulflingen, torn up a little on the line, and demanded the surrender of the telegraphic apparatus; and so the first act of war had been committed. The invasion in force, and the occupation of the capital, had been delayed until the small hours of the Sunday morning. It had evidently been intended to confront the Luxemburgers with a fait accompli when they came down to breakfast; but that object was not achieved. Somebody telephoned from Wasserbillig; presumably other people telephoned from other stations. At any rate, it became known that an armored train was on its way from Trier, and that a stream of Prussian soldiers in motors, on motor-cycles, and on bicycles, was pouring along the high road in the dark. Luxemburg had to make up its mind in a hurry how to act. Mr. Buchan, in his history of the war, states that "the Grand Duchess motored up and wheeled her car across the roadway, but she was bidden to go home, and her chauffeur was compelled to turn. One of the Ministers of State The made a formal protest, which was greeted with laughter." The story told on the spot was somewhat different. Two of the officers of the little Luxemburg army, it was stated, were hurriedly sent out with written protests; one of them to meet the motorists, and the other to meet the train. officer who met the motorists had no chance even of reading his protest; a revolver was pointed at him, and he was told to get out of the way. The protest of the officer who met the train was ignored; he was left reading. it while the Prussian officer, who had not even returned his salute, proceeded to take possession of the Post Office. To get there he had to traverse the famous Pont Adolf; and it was on that bridge that the Luxemburgers had erected their one and only barricade. The English legend has it that there again they encountered the Grand Duchess in her motor; but, as a matter of fact, the barricade consisted of a prison van of the sort known in France as panier-a-salade and in England as "Black Maria," drawn across the road, with a gendarme standing at each end of it. The gendarmes, being ablebodied men, made themselves useful in removing the "Black Maria." They served, and could serve, no other purpose; and they were threatened with instant death if they did not obey. The course thus cleared, there was no longer even a show of resistance; and the invaders did what seemed good to them, making haste to issue two proclamations, of which the second gave the lie to the first. The first proclamation was to the effect that they had only entered the Grand Duchy for the purpose of protecting the railway lines from the French; the second set forth that they found themselves compelled to proceed to the military occupation of the Grand Duchy. There was a further announcement that full compensation would be |