A school of art in which colour and light play such a predominant part is bound to produce valuable landscapes. In this new form, the love of country expressed itself far more sincerely than in the earlier historical compositions. Under the influence of Henri Boulanger, Belgium produced, in later years, a number of first-rate landscape painters such as Verwée, Courtens, Gilsoul, Baertsoen and Emile Claus. Flemish landscapes exert a far greater attraction than the Walloon hills, and, generally speaking, the Flemish element dominates in the modern school as it did in the old. For the golden light lies on the damp fields of Flanders, and Flemish artists have not yet given up the hope of capturing it.
NATIONAL LITERATURE
The artistic Renaissance of modern Belgium might have been expected. The worship of colour and form had always been a strong characteristic of the race, and even in the drab years of the Austrian régime Belgian painters had never ceased to work. A far more startling development was the appearance, towards the middle of the nineteenth century, of a national Belgian school of literature. In the Middle Ages, Flemish and French letters in Belgium had produced some remarkable works. Owing to the scholastic character of these writings and to the predominant influence of French culture, they could not, however, be considered as a direct expression of the people's spirit. In many ways, the modern school of Belgian Letters was a new departure: French and Flemish influences were more evenly balanced, and, though they worked separately, Flemish and French writers, coming into close contact with the people's soul, expressed the same feelings and the same aspirations. For, if we make due allowance for the part played by purely Walloon writers, specially novelists and story-tellers, the main feature of the Belgian school of literature in the nineteenth century is the break up of the language barrier. Strange as it may seem, a comparison between writers in French and Flemish reveals a series of similarities so striking that, supposing an adequate translation were possible, there would be no difficulty whatever in including them in the same group. The main reason for this is, no doubt, that almost all the leaders of the movement in French, starting with De Coster and Lemonnier, up to the contemporary period of Verhaeren and Maeterlinck, are of Flemish extraction, and that their best works are imbued with Flemish traditions and Flemish temperament. Broadly speaking, one might say that most of the Belgian French writers are Flemings writing in French and are far closer to their Northern brethren than to the French whose language they use. Charles de Coster, who may be considered as the father of this particular branch of the school, published in 1868 the Legend of Ulenspiegel, which is nothing but a prose epic in which the legendary character of Owliglass is identified with one of the heroes of the sixteenth century revolution against Spain. Camille Lemonnier (1844-1913), in his best novels, deals with the manners and customs of the Flemish peasantry. The very soul of Flanders shines through the whole work of Belgium's great national poet, Emile Verhaeren, from his early Les Flamandes (1883) to the six volumes of Toute la Flandre (1904-12), and in all his earlier writings (1889-98), Maurice Maeterlinck remains under the influence of Flemish mysticism and miracle plays. This may seem a one-sided conclusion, and the names of many Belgian writers of great distinction may be quoted against it, but if we were to examine the question more closely, this conclusion would be rather verified than disproved. From a purely historical point of view, the general trend of inspiration is certainly towards the North rather than towards the South.
The main features which characterize the Belgian writers in French and confer on them a truly national originality are, on one side, a tendency to emphasize the intimate joys of life, and on the other, an intense feeling for mysticism, sometimes quite dissociated from any dogmatic faith. Just as Flemish Art is remarkable for the religious work of the fifteenth century and the sensuous productions of the seventeenth, so Belgian writing in the nineteenth oscillates between the spirit of Jordaens and that of Memling. In spite of some modernist tendencies and a great technical boldness, Belgian literature remains deeply influenced by mediævalism. It belongs to the twentieth century, even when written in the nineteenth, or to the fifteenth. The classical atmosphere of the French seventeenth and eighteenth centuries is totally absent. Those who care for the delicately poised balance of classical taste, for wit and brilliance of dialogue, will be disconcerted by childishness or fierce passion. It is an abrupt literature, but spontaneous and sincere, which has not been spoilt by formalism and scepticism, but which has not acquired, from a purely technical point of view, the perfection of the French. Having remained inarticulate during the two centuries of classical education, it has lost nothing and gained nothing through them.
THE FLEMISH MOVEMENT
It is significant that the movement started in Flanders before influencing the French-speaking part of the country. The Flemish novelist, Henri Conscience (1812-83) had devoted a series of books to the history of his country long before De Coster wrote his Ulenspiegel. The Flemish language was, at the time, struggling against great difficulties. It had been entirely neglected, from the literary point of view, during the eighteenth century, and suffered now from the natural reaction which followed the 1830 Revolution. It had reaped little benefit from the fifteen years of union with Holland, and there was a general belief, among the Flemings themselves, that it would never recover its ancient position. The Flemish literary Renaissance was initiated by a small group of intellectuals, headed by Jan Frans Willems (1793-1846), who exerted all their energy to revive Flemish customs, collect folk songs and traditions, and obtain a liberal interpretation of the Constitution which proclaimed liberty of language. The Flemish Movement received a new impulse when the young poet Albrecht Rodenbach (1856-80) spread its influence to all Flemish intellectual circles. The Flemings began to realize that they possessed in Guido Gezelle (1813-99) a religious poet whose work could bear comparison with the best French writings in the country. They saw, growing up around them, a new school of writers of great promise, and they insisted on their language being recognized, not only in principle, but in fact, as the second official language of the country. In 1898 a law was passed removing some of the causes of grievances, such as the inability of judges and officials to understand the language of the people with whom they dealt. Progressively the Flemish language came into its own in matters of education and administration, and, before the war, the only large question still under discussion was the creation of a Flemish University. The principle of such an institution had been admitted, but the relationship between this new University and the old French University of Ghent had not yet been established.
COMMON TEMPERAMENT
It must be understood that the language question remained throughout a local quarrel between two sets of Flemish intellectuals. It was not a quarrel between Walloons and Flemings, and administrative separation was scarcely ever mentioned. It was not even, before the war, a quarrel between the Flemish people, who knew only Flemish, and the Flemish bourgeoisie, who preferred to talk French. It was a dispute between a few intellectual Flemings, who wished to restore the language to the position it occupied before the Spanish and Austrian régimes silenced it, and the Flemings who wanted to restrict it to the common people and treat it as a patois. It was, to put it bluntly, a discussion between those who ignored history and those who realized that the independence of the Belgian provinces was bound to bring about a revival of Flemish Letters, as it was causing a revival of French Letters. For two centuries the country had remained silent; she was now able to speak again and to use all the riches and the resources of her two languages. Instead of threatening national unity, bilingualism was its necessary condition. For real differences do not lie in modes of expression, but in the feeling and the soul of the people, and it matters little if an image or a thought is expressed in one language or another, as long as they reflect a common temperament and common aspirations.