THE OTHER CHEEK

The cordial reception accorded a German actress on the Parisian stage, as well as other straws in the wind, have shown an increase in Franco-German amity. But the dove of peace has not flown over the same route as that taken by the German troops in 1914, for that way went through Belgium. And Belgium, unlike France, shows no disposition to forgive. The latest indication of this comes in the news that the inscription in the new Library of Louvain: "Destroyed by German fury; rebuilt by American love," is to remain unchanged in deference to the wishes of the populace of Louvain.

The members of the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, with Doctor Nicholas Murray Butler at their head, would have the text modified, but as contributors of one-sixth the total sum, they have no controlling vote. Germany has remained silent, having in mind perhaps the ineffectuality of her, unofficial protest against the war memorial at Dinant, which depicts a German soldier holding aloft on his bayonet the body of a Belgian baby.

One recalls that after the Franco-Prussian War the statue of Alsace in the Place de la Concorde was veiled in black, but France had been the loser, while Belgium in 1918 was one of the conquering nations. Belgium's memory is perhaps so vivid she, like the British general in the Revolutionary War, would cease to exist after another such victory. It is nevertheless a novelty in ante-bellum relations to find the conquered nation attempting to bury the hatchet, while the conqueror earnestly digs it up again. And even if a complete acknowledgement be made of the justification of Belgium's feelings, it is doubtful whether the most intelligent ends are served by the perpetuation of hatred in stone.