1936 On the Continent

journeys. Our highways as a rule keep fairly close to our railroads.”
    This is the Grand Duchy. Perfect roads. We are out of Belgium, but we are excellent neighbours and trading goes on constantly between the two countries. This country is much smaller even than Belgium, but is amazingly beautiful. Several parts bear a striking resemblance to our Ardennes, but they are grander still. It makes one think of Switzerland too, because of the mountains and the splendid forests.
    After having visited Luxemburg, which is the capital and the Grand Ducal seat, and which has one enormous building—the Head Office of the Arbed Steel Works—we will visit Diekirch, from where it is easy to radiate towards the four corners of the little State.
    The Grand Duchy has a population of 300,000, chiefly agricultural and industrial. The Moselle runs through it, and the vineyards that edge the riverside produce the fresh and pleasant Moselle wine.
    There is a wealth of magnificent scenery. A few old castles, among which that of Vianden is the most remarkable, and a good number of abbeys. Mondorf-les-Bains is a famous thermal station. Those who suffer from liver or heart complaints should go there for a cure. You’ll be able to taste of this health-giving drink, and I’m sure you’ll agree with me that it is quite the nastiest stuff you’ve ever swallowed.
    As a consolation, the beers are excellent in Luxemburg, and alcohol is sold freely everywhere. Let me recommend a little glass of Quetsch, which is a most delectable variety of brandy.
Farewells
    Brussels again.
    The holiday is over.
    With great trouble I managed to fasten the last of Muriel’s suitcases, which are fuller than when she arrived because she is taking several souvenirs back with her. And, because the rate of exchange is favourable, she bought a few things for herself as well.
    In order to dispel the melancholy that was creeping upon us, we decided to have a sumptuous repast at a very select restaurant famous for its cooking: “chez Cordemans” (Petite rue au Beurre).
    As an excuse for this magnificence, I explained to Muriel that the pleasures of the table are divine pleasures, with which she agreed, and that I wished to celebrate worthily our last evening together.
    “You will find that the Belgians rate exquisite food very highly,” I assured her.
    “When you talk about them, one would think that they are a people of great eaters, great drinkers and great smokers. Decidedly they must be very self-indulgent.”
    “Perhaps,” I agreed, “but in so far as our means allow it. I think the reason for that is that we are on the whole a very hard-working people, and that, in order to compensate for our hard work, we don’t forgo certain pleasures. They are not always, alas, pleasures of the spirit, at any rate for the great majority, who allow themselves to be doped with foolish films, and by an empty Press given over to political gossip and abuse, and devoid of ideals. An intelligent people? Certainly. At least, we think so! All peoples have their racial genius, but ours doesn’t express itself easily. Either we are brilliant, or really very mediocre. Very brilliant are some of our people, our great artists (who are forced to go to other countries if they want to achieve fame), our scholars, men of science, doctors, builders, who rival the greatest in the world, and, on another plane, certain of our financiers andmanufacturers and business men. But outside this élite of the intellectual, scientific and commercial world, the great mass of the people is known rather for its goodwill, good humour and perseverance. One thing condemns or uplifts a people. Its Press. Ours is a very poor thing: it is not objective, it has no courage, no broadmindedness. It is a thicket of second-hand and ready-made thoughts and beliefs. Yet everyone seems content and those that protest truly cry out in the wilderness. I know that it is not in our country alone that matters are in this state, but that is poor comfort.”
    “My dear Pierre, how agitated you are!”
An Explanation
    “How could I remain indifferent? Life is not made just for material comforts. The spirit, too, needs food. The trouble is that we are a really very small country. Little country, little people. All these races met on our soil as a result of force or coincidence, yet have been able to join hands for work, to join hearts for love, but I doubt whether they have ever joined their souls. We are a little lonely,