d off the war, must read the newspapers
established under German auspices, which fed him with the pabulum
that German chefs provided, reflective of the stumbling degeneracy
of England, French weariness of the war, Russian clumsiness, and
the invincibility of Germany. If an Englishman had to read German, or
a German English, newspapers every morning he might have
understood how the Belgian felt.

Those who had sons or fathers or husbands in the Belgian army
could not send or receive letters, let alone presents. Families
scattered in different parts of Belgium could not hold reunions. But at
mass I saw a Belgian standard in the centre of the church. That flag
was proscribed, but the priests knew it was safe in that sacred place
and the worshippers might feast their eyes on it as they said their
avis.

A Bavarian soldier came in softly and stood a little apart from the
worshippers, many in mourning, at the rear; a man who was of the
same faith as the Belgians and who crossed himself with the others in
the house of brotherly love. He would go outside to obey orders; and
the others to nurse their hate of him and his race. This private in his
faded green, bowing his head before that flag in the shadows of the
nave, was war-sick, as most soldiers were; and the Belgians were
heartsick. They had the one solace in common. But if you had
suggested to him to give up Belgium, his answer would have been
that of the other Germans: "Not after all we have suffered to take it!"
Christians have a peculiar way of applying Christianity. Yet, if it were
not for Christianity and that infernal thing called the world's opinion,
which did not exist in the days of Caesar and the Belgse, the Belgians
might have been worse off than they were. More of them might have
been dead. When they were saying, "Give us this day our daily
bread" they were thinking, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,"
if ever their turn came.

A satirist might have repeated the apochryphal naivete of Marie
Antoinette, who asked why the people wanted bread when they could
buy such nice cakes for a sou! For all the patisserie shops were
open. Brussels is famous for its French pastry. With a store of
preserves, why shouldn't the bakeshops go on making tarts with
heavy crusts of the brown flour, when war had not robbed the bakers
of their art? It gave work to them; it helped the shops to keep open
and make a show of normality. But I noticed that they were doing little