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KING ALBERT'S 
 
 BOOK 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO THE BELGIAN 
 KING AND PEOPLE FROM 
 REPRESENTATIVE MEN AND 
 WOMEN THROUGHOUT THE 
 
 WORLD 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HEARST'S INTERNATIONAL UBRARY CO 
 
 / ^ /f 
 

 ip 
 
 o^. 
 
 
 Hearst's International Library Company is the exclusive 
 authorized publisher, in the United States, of KingAlberfs 
 Book, by authority of Mr. Hall Caine, Mr. 'Rudyard 
 Kipling and other owners oj copyright material in the book. 
 
 The publishers^ profits from the sale will goto the Belgian 
 Fund. 
 
 
 KNIGHTS 
 
 MANUFACTURINO COMPANY LÏD 
 
 PMOTDEMRAVaS tPKWPU fWgroaWHBta'TlDITDat^i 
 
 THE COMPLETE PRESS 
 
 EriuouBMi «THE cmr OrUffllMM: 
 
 
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INTRODUCTION TO KING ALBERT'S BOOK 
 
 THE irm?iediate object of this Book is to offer, in the names a?id by the pens of 
 a large group of the representative men and women of the civilised countries^ 
 a tribute of admiration to Belgium, on the heroic and ever-memorable share she 
 has taken in the war which nozv convulses Europe, and at the same time to 
 invoke the world's sympathy, its help and its prayers for the gallant little nation 
 in the vast sorrow of its present condition. 
 
 With yiothing to gain by taking up arms, zvith no territory to annex, no commerce 
 to capture, no injury to revenge, having neither part nor lot in any European 
 quarrel, desiring only to be left alo?ie that she might pursue the arts of peace, 
 Belgium found herself suddenly confronted by the choice of allowing her soil 
 to be invaded by a powerful neighbour on his way to destroy his enemy, or of 
 protecting her independence as a separate nation by the whole strength of her 
 armed resistance. 
 
 Although one of the smallest and least aggressive of the countries of Europe, the 
 daughter among the nations, Belgium, true to her lofty political idealism, chose the 
 latter part, not counting the cost, only realising that a ruthless crime was about to 
 be committed, and drawing the sword, after the sword had been drawn against her, 
 in defence of her honour, her national integrity, her right to be mistress in her 
 own house, her historic heritage of freedom and all the spiritual traditions of 
 her race. 
 
 In doing this during the past fateful months, Belgium has fought not only her 
 own battle but also the battle of France, the battle of Great Britain and the 
 battle of Freedom. By her brave stand against incalculable odds she has added 
 a new and inspiring chapter to the heroic annals of hmnanity and perhaps lifted 
 to a higher level the future destinies of man. 
 
 But she has paid a terrible penalty. Her beautiful country has been laid waste. 
 Her harvests, which were ripe for the gathering , have been trodden into the earth. 
 Her villages have been given up to the flames. Her cities have been made to 
 resound with the screams of shell and the cries of slaughter. Her historic mojiu- 
 ments, venerable with the associations of learning and piety, have been razed to 
 the ground. And, above all. Death has taken an awful toll of her manhood on 
 the field of battle, while midtitudes of her surviving people, the very young, the 
 very old, the very weak, the very poor, all innocent and all helpless, have been 
 driven forth on the verge of winter from their smoking, blackciied and outraged 
 homes into an exile in foreign lands from which there can hardly be any hope 
 that many of them will return. 
 
 No tnore woefid and terrible spectacle of a country in utter desolation ever came 
 from earthquake , eruption or other convulsion of Nature in her wrath than has 
 been produced in Belgium by the hand of man. A complete nation is iti ruin. 
 A zvhole country is in ashes. An entire people are destitute, homeless and on 
 the roads. A little Kingdom, dedicated to liberty, has " kept the pledge and 
 died for it.'' 
 
 As Belgium has thus become the martyr nation of the war, however great the 
 sacrifices which the other Allies have had to make, it seems reasonable to expect 
 
 A 5 
 
that in view of her limitless and undeserved sufferings, the deepest feelings of 
 human nature will be stirred to an infinite pity , and that in the present dark hour 
 of her utmost need the world will see that it is not more important that the 
 material succour of food and clothing should he found for the bodies of her stricken 
 and impoverished people than that comfort and solace should be offered to their 
 souls. Therefore this book is published as the united voice of the world's gratitude 
 to Belgium for lier unexampled heroism, and of its sympathy with her in the 
 heavy price she has to pay in discharging the sublime duty which Destiny laid 
 upon her of fighting by our side for the liberties of all. 
 
 Especially it has been intended that the present volume should address itself, as 
 far as possible, to the King of the Belgians, wiio, from his first moving appeal 
 to Great Britain and to France, to Iielp him to resist the gigantic and uncon- 
 scionable ambition which was preparing to stalk over his country, down to the 
 last agony of his dauntless stand behind the fortresses of Antwerp, has by his 
 matchless courage in Council and on the battlefield, where he makes common 
 cause with his soldiers in the trenches, displayed some of the noblest energies of 
 the human character, and sustained those highest traditions of Kingship which, 
 among free nations, unite the people to the throne. 
 
 Such is the aim and character of this book, and if so high an object has been in 
 some measure achieved, it has only been by the ready and whole-hearted co- 
 operation of the leaders of thought, of art and of action who are prominent 
 throughout the world for their love of justice and freedom. There are many 
 thousands of such leaders in every country , fully capable of interpreting, each in 
 his or her own tvay, the immense emotion which nozv fills the heart of humanity 
 at the spectacle of Belgium's sorrows ; but the exigencies of space in a single 
 volume have made it necessary to limit the number of contributors whom it has 
 been possible to invite to join in this world's tribute to the martyr nation. 
 With the utmost care, and not without many misgivings about illustrious names 
 which well merited inclusion, a list was compiled of princes, statesmen, churchmen, 
 authors, artists, and composers of all civilised countries, except the countries of 
 our enemies, in the hope that each in his own medium, whether of word or picture 
 or song or story, might be impelled, according as the spirit moved him, to present 
 his vieto of Belgium's sacrifice and of the measureless calamity which has 
 befallen her. 
 
 The residt is now offered to the public in the present volume, which it is hoped 
 to publish in various editions, and as nearly as possible simultaneously, in most 
 of the countries of the authors, especially France, Russia, Italy, and America, 
 thus making it a work of international interest, calculated to be a inorai inspira- 
 tion to posterity and to take its place as one of the luminous pages in the world's 
 history. 
 
 Never before, perhaps, have so many illustrious names been inscribed within 
 the covers of a single volume, but KING ALBERT' S BOOK has a significance 
 which even transcends its distinction. Out of the storm of battle a great new 
 spirit of brotherhood has been born into the world, calling together the scattered 
 and divided parts of it, uniting them in a single mind, a single sentiment, a single 
 6 
 
purpose, so that here, in love of justice and in hatred of oppression, speaking in 
 
 many voices and many tongues but from only one soul, which enkindles the earth 
 
 as zoith a holy fire, men and zvomen of all civilised countries have drawn closer 
 
 and clasped hands. 
 
 Nor is that everything. In sight and zvitness of this World-league of some of 
 
 the spiritual leaders of mankind, zvho labour for and live by peace, and in memory 
 
 of this Covenant of princes, statesmen, soldiers, sailors, teachers, preachers, and 
 
 artists of the great and historic races, signed on the desecrated altar of a little 
 
 nation's liberty, is it too much to hope that the peoples they represent may never 
 
 again, from any narrower or less noble aims, draw the szvord agaitist each other 
 
 as long as the world may last ? 
 
 So be it. God grant so may it be. 
 
 But meantime it is perhaps enough that as sons and daughters of many lands, 
 
 sufferers ourselves by a fratricidal war, we should bring to Belgium, in this 
 
 solemn moment zvhen her heart is cruelly and almost incurably wounded, the 
 
 expression of our love, our sympathy, and our imbounded admiration, as the 
 
 spiritual message of the civilised world to the suffering millions of her people, in 
 
 the midst of the ruin and desolatio?i zvhich still lie heavy upon her even at this 
 
 sacred Season when the holiest aspirations of hufna?iity are tow( rds peace on 
 
 earth and good-will to men. 
 
 Belgians, in the person of your heroic young Sovereign we salute you. The 
 
 statesmanship, the learning, the wisdom, the genius of the world lay their tribute 
 
 at your feet. 
 
 HALL CAIN E 
 Christmas 19 14 
 
The Editor of KING ALBERT'S BOOK on his own behalf and 
 on behalf of the proprietors of the " Daily Telegraph " and its 
 associate newspapers, the " Daily Sketch " and the " Glasgom 
 Herald " makes grateful acknowledgment of the services of Mr. 
 G. Ralph Hall Caine as general organiser, of Mr. Ridgivcll Culliim 
 as editorial assistant, of Miss Florence Simmonds and Mrs. Marie 
 Conor Leighton as French and Italian translators, and of Air. 
 Desmond McAuliffe as compiler of the Index. 
 He also desires to thank Professor Fitzmaurice-Kelly, Dr. Hagberg 
 Wright, Mr. J. S. Cotton, Dr. Henry Bradley {Oxford), and Mr. 
 Edmund Gosse for valuable help in the translation of contributions 
 in the lesser-known languages, as well as The Complete Press for the 
 admirable craftsmanship displayed in the engraving, ike beautiful 
 typographical page, and the printing, and also Mr. J. E. Hodder- 
 Williams, head of Messrs. Hodder and Stoughton, for his own 
 and his firm's valuable services as general publishers of KING 
 ALBERT'S BOOK. 
 
 The Editor feels that it would be presumption on his part to thank 
 the illustrious contributors, the Belgian people and the universal 
 sentiment of the world will assuredly do that, but he trusts he may 
 be permitted to express his personal gratitude to his own distin- 
 guished colleagues, the artists, composers, and men and women of 
 letters in many countries, whose spontaneous and whole-hearted 
 response to his request have made it possible for him to produce this. 
 memorable book. 
 
INDEX TO CONTRIBUTORS 
 
 ABBOTT, REV. Lyman, D.D., LL.D., American 
 Divine: editor of " The Outlook" i68 
 
 AGA KHAN, Aga Sultan Mahomed Shah. 
 G.C.I.E., G.C.S.I., K.C.I.E., Hon. LL.D. Camb. ; 
 head of the Ismaili Mahomedans 14 
 
 ALVERSTONE, Viscount (Sir Richard Everard 
 Webster), G.C.M.G. ; for thirteen years Lord 
 Chief Justice of England 14° 
 
 AMEER ALI, Rt. Hon. (Syed), Hon. LL.D. 
 Camb., M.A., CLE. ; member of the Judicial 
 Committee of the Privy Council 102 
 
 ANGELL, NORiliVN, author of" The Great Illusion" 48 
 
 ANOUTCHIN, D.. Russian scientist 187 
 
 ARCHER, Wim.\M, British man of letters 112 
 
 ASHLEV, W. J., British Economist, M.A., M.Com., 
 
 Hon. Ph.D. Berlin 114 
 
 ASOUITH, RT. Hon. Herbert Henry, British 
 Statesman, Prime Minister and First Lord of the 
 Treasury : M.P., K.C. 13 
 
 ATHERTON, GERTRUDE Franklin, American 
 novelist 104 
 
 BACKER-LUNDE, Johan, Norwegian composer 173 
 BADEN-POWELL, Lt.-Gen. Sir Robert 
 
 Stephenson Smyth, K.C.B., K.C.V.O. 176 
 
 BALFOUR, Rt. Hon. Arthur James, F.R.S., 
 
 D.L. ; British Statesman 15 
 
 BALTIMORE, Cardinal Archbishop of (James 
 
 Gibbons) 68 
 
 BARANOVSKI, TouG/.NE, Russian Economist 186 
 
 BARCLAY, Mrs. FLORENCE L., English novelist 99 
 BARCLAY, Sir Thomas, LL.B., Ph.D., English 
 barrister ; founder of the International Brother- 
 ncod A'Hance 66 
 
 BARR, Sir James, M.D., LL.D., F.R.C.P.,F.R.S.E.; 
 
 British scientist 177 
 
 BARZINl, Luigi, Italian journalist and publicist 125 
 BAZIN, René François Nicolas Marie, French 
 author ; Membre de V Académie française, Docteur 
 en Droit de l'Université de Paris 127 
 
 BELMONT, Alva E. vSmith (Mrs. O. H. P. 
 
 Belmont), American philanthropist 98 
 
 BENCKENDORFF, LE Comte de (Alexandre 
 ConstanTinovitch), Russian Ambassador in 
 London 16 
 
 BENNETT, Enoch Arnold, British author 37 
 
 BENSON, Arthur Christopher, C.V.O., English 
 
 author 102 
 
 BERESFORD, Admiral Lord Charles William 
 DE LA PoER, G.C.B., G.C.V.O., M.P., Late Com- 
 mander of the British Channel Fleet 40 
 BERGSON, Henri Louis, Professor at the College of 
 France, Member of the Institute, Officer of the Legion 
 of Honour, Officier de I' Instruction Publique 59 
 BERNHARDT, Sar.'^h, French actress 116 
 BIRRELL, Rt. Hon. Augustine, British Statesman 
 and author ; Chief Secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant 
 of Ireland : M.P., K.C. 121 
 BISTOLFI, Leonardo, Italian sculptor 17Ó 
 BLAND-SUTTON, Sir John, F.R.C.S., English 
 
 surgeon 80 
 
 BOJER, Jonas, Swedish novelist 170 
 
 BOOTH, W. Bramwell, General of the Salvation 
 
 Army 98 
 
 BORDEN, RT. Hon. Sir Robert Laird, K.C. ; 
 Premier of Canada 24 
 
 BOURGET, Paul, French poet, critic, and novelist ; 
 
 Membre de V Académie française 180 
 
 BRACCO, Roberto, Italian dramatist 169 
 
 BRADDON, Mary Elizabeth (Mary Maxwell), 
 English novelist 112 
 
 BRANTING, Karl Hjalmar, Swedish journalist ; 
 
 editor of the " Social Demokraten " 154 
 
 BRASSEY, Earl (Thomas Brassey), G.C.B. ; 
 British Statesman ; Lord Warden of the Cinque 
 Ports 1 75 
 
 BROCK, Sir Thomas, K.C.B.; British sculptor 73-6 
 
 BRUCKMAN, W. L., Dutch artist ; Knight of the 
 Orangehaussan Order facing 72 
 
 BRYCE, Viscount, Rt. Hon. James, O.M., 
 D.C.L. ; British Statesman and author, formerly 
 His Majesty's Ambassador Extraordinary and 
 Plenipotentiary at Washington 46 
 
 BURNAND, Sir Francis Cowley, British drama- 
 tist : formerly editor of " Punch" 116 
 
 BURNHAM, Lord, K.C.V.O. ; principal proprietor 
 of the " Daily Telegraph " 79 
 
 BURT, Rt. Hon. Thomas, British Statesman loi 
 
 CAINE, Hall, English novelist 1S8 
 
 CAMBON, Paul, G.C.V.O., D.C.L., LL.D. Oxon. 
 Cantab., Edin. ; French Ambassador to the Court 
 of St. James 16 
 
 CANTERBURY, Archbishop of (The Most Rev. 
 Randall Thomas Davidson), Prelate of the Order 
 of the Garter, G.C.V.O., Royal Victorian Chain, 
 D.D., D.C.L., LL.D. 14 
 
 CANTON, William, British author 15- 
 
 CAPUANA, Luigi, Italian novelist 171 
 
 CAPUS, Vincent Marie Alfred, French author 
 
 and journalist, Officer cf the Legion of Honour 120 
 
 CARLILE, Rev. Wilson, Prebendary of St. Paul's 
 Cathedral, Founder and Hon. Chief Secretary of 
 the Church Army 98 
 
 CARNEGIE, Andrew, LL.D., American publicist ; 
 formerly Lord Rector of St. Andrews and Aberdeen 
 Universities ; Bursar of the Peace Prize 58 
 
 CARPENTER, Edward, English author 109 
 
 CHAMBERS, Robert W., American author 112 
 
 CHARTRES, Annie Vivanti, Italian poetess 103 
 
 CHESTERTON, Gilbert Keith, English journa- 
 list and author I43 
 CHIROL, Sir Valentine, English journalist and 
 
 publicist : formerly foreign editor of" The Times " 64 
 CHOATE, Hon. Joseph Hodges, American Diplo- 
 matist : formerly United States Anibassador to 
 Great Britain ; Ambassador and First Delegate of 
 the United States to the International Peace 
 Conference at The Hague 33 
 
 CHOLMONDELEY, Mary, English novelist 62 
 
 CHRISTENSSEN, Jens Christian, ex-Prime 
 
 Minister of Denmark 102 
 
 CHRISTY, Howard Chandler, American artist 
 
 facing 68 
 CHURCHILL, Winston, American novelist 142 
 
 CHURCHILL, RT. Hon. Winston Leonard 
 Spencer, British Statesman, First Lord of the 
 Admiralty, E,lder Brother of Trinity House 28 
 
INDEX TO CONTRIBUTO 
 
 PAGE 
 
 M. A.. D.D. ; English Noncon- 
 W. K., English novelist and 
 
 RS 
 
 70 
 
 153 
 
 153 
 
 69 
 
 187 
 
 73 
 
 60 
 
 CLIFFORD, jOHN, 
 formisi Minister 
 
 CLIFFORD, Mrs. 
 playwright 
 
 COLLIER, Hon. John, English painter Jacmg 
 
 GORELLI, Marie, English novelist 
 
 COUPERUS. Louis, Dutch novelist 
 
 COURTNEY, WiLU.^M Leonard, M.A.. LL.D. ; 
 English author, editor of the " Fortnightly Review" 
 
 COWEN, Sir Frederick Hyman, British com- 
 poser : Hon. Mus. Doc. Cambridge University, 
 Edinburgli University 
 
 CRANE, Walter, R.W.S., English painter ; 
 Commendatore of the Royal Crown of Italy 118-9 
 
 CREWE, Marquess of (Robert Offley Ash- 
 burton Crewe-MilnES), K.G., (M.A., F.S.A., 
 Hon. LL.D. Camb.) ; British Statesman ; Secre- 
 tary of Stale for India 21 
 
 CRICHTON-BROWNE, Sir JamES, M.D., LL.D., 
 D.Sc, F.R.S., Lord Chancellor' s Visitor, Treasurer 
 and Vice-President Royal Institution of Great 
 Britain 
 
 CROOKES. Professor Sir William. O.M., F.R.S., 
 LL.D. ; British Scientist, Fast President of the 
 British Association 
 
 CROOKS, WILL, M.P., English Labour leader 
 
 CURZON OF KEDLESTON, Earl (George 
 NATH.4NIEL Curzon), G.C.S.I., G.C.I.E., M.A., 
 F.R.S., D.C.L., LL.D.; British Statesman; late 
 Viceroy of India 
 
 56 
 
 52 
 
 79 
 
 27 
 
 Chevalier 
 
 147 
 142 
 
 "3 
 
 32 
 
 109 
 
 137 
 
 80 
 170 
 
 DEBUSSY, Claude, French composer : 
 
 of the Legion of Honour 
 DELAND, Marg.\RET, American novelist 
 DB MORGAN, William Frend, English novelist 
 DICKSEE, Francis Eern.^rd, English painter. 
 
 Royal Academician facing 
 
 DOBSON, Henry Austin, LL.D., English poet and 
 
 essayist 
 DONNA Y, Maurice, French dramatist ; Member of 
 
 the French A cademy. Officer of the Legion of Honour 
 DULAC, Edmund. British artist and illustrator 
 
 facing 
 EEDEN. VAN. Dutch author 
 ELGAR. Sir Edward, Kt., O.M., Mus. Doc. 
 
 Cantab., Hon. R.A.M., Mus. Doc. Dunelm, Mus. 
 
 Doc. Oxen, and Mus. Doc. Yale, U.S.A. {hon. 
 
 causa) : British composer 84-89 
 
 ESHER, Viscount (Reginald Baliol Brett). 
 
 G.C.B., G.C.V.O., M.A. ; permanent member of 
 
 the Committee of Imperial Defence : Royal Trustee, 
 
 British Museum 28 
 
 FAWCETT, MILLICENT GarreTT, LL.D. (Hon. 
 St. Andrews) ; English publicist ; President of the 
 National Union of Women's Suffrage Societies 54 
 
 FERRERÒ, Guglielmo, Italian historian 131 
 
 FILDES, Sir Luke, R.A., /?fi7ts/ì paiH/e)- facing 36 
 FISHER. Harrison, American artist and illus- 
 trator facing 1 68 
 FISHER, HERBERT Albert Laurens, British 
 scholar: M.A., LL.D., F.B.A. ; Fellow of New 
 College, Oxford, and Vice-Chanceilor of the 
 University of Sheffield . 141 
 
 10 
 
 FISHER OF KELVERSTON. Lord (John 
 Arbuthnot), O.M., G.C.B., G.C.V.O. ; Admiral 
 of the British Fleet, First Sea Lord 48 
 
 FLAGG, G. Montgomery, American artist and 
 illustrator facing 128 
 
 FRANCE. Jacques Anatole Thibault, French 
 author ; Officer of the Legion of Honour, Member 
 of the French Academy 161 
 
 GALSWORTHY, John, English novelist, dramatist, 
 
 and essayist 53 
 
 GARDINER, A. G., English journalist ; editor of 
 the " Daily News " 74 
 
 GARVIN, J. L., English journalist : editor of the 
 " Pall Mall Gazette" and the " Observer" 74 
 
 GERMAN, Edward, English composer 139 
 
 GIBSON, Charles Dana, American artist and 
 
 illustrator qy 
 
 GLADSTONE, Viscount, Rt. Hon. Herbert 
 John, G.C.M.G., British Statesman, ex-Governor- 
 General of South Africa 48 
 
 GOSSE, Edmund, C.B., LL.D.. English author : 
 Librarian to the House of Lords 57 
 
 GOULD, Sir Fr.\ncis Carruthers, British 
 caricaturist 172 
 
 GREY, Rt. Hon. Sir Edward, British Statesman, 
 K.G., D.C.L.. Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs 20 
 
 HAGGARD, Sir (Henry) Rider, English novelist 112 
 HALSBURY, Earl of (Hardinge Stanley 
 
 Giffard), British Statesman : F.R.S., M.A. ; 
 
 formerly Lord Chancellor of England 22 
 
 HARDINGE OP PENSHURST. Lord (Chao^les 
 
 Hardinge), G.C.B ; Viceroy of India 20 
 
 HARDY, Thomas, O.M., Litt.D. (Camb.), LL.D. 
 
 (Aberdeen) ; English poet and novelist 21 
 
 HARRISON, Frederic, British author; Hon. 
 
 Fellow of Wadham College, Oxford, Hon. D.CL. 
 
 0.xford, Hon. Litt.D. Cambridge, Hon. LL.D. 
 
 Aberdeen 28 
 
 HERTZ, VERY Rev. Joseph Her.man. Ph.D.; 
 
 Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations 
 
 of the British Empire 7» 
 
 HERVIEU. Paul Ernest, F^-SHcft author; Membre 
 
 de l' Académie française ; Grand Officier de la 
 
 Légion d'Honneur 47 
 
 HEWLETT, Maurice Henry, English novelist 
 
 and poet 55 
 
 HICHENS, Robert Smythe, English journalist 
 
 and novelist 103 
 
 HOWELLS, William Dean, American author 112 
 
 IBÂNEZ. Vicente Blasco, Spanish novelist 159 
 
 INOUYÉ, Katsunoske, Japanese Ambassador 
 Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary, London 16 
 
 JELLICOE. Admiral Sir John Rushworth. 
 K.C.B.. K.C.V.O. ; British sailor, Commander- 
 in-Chief of the Home Fleet 117 
 JIMENEZ, D. Ramon, Spanish poet 122 
 JUSSERAND, Jean Adrien Antoine Jules, 
 French man of letters; French Ambassador at 
 Washington 134 
 KEY. Ellen, Swedish author 176 
 KIDD, Benjamin, English author 66 
 
INDEX TO CONTRIBUTORS 
 
 KIPLING, Rudyard, British author: Nobel 
 Prizeman : Hon. LL.D. McGill University, Hoa. 
 D.I.itt. Durham and Oxford 19 
 
 KITCHENER OF KHARTOUM, Eari, (Horatio 
 Herbert Kitchener), G.C.I.E.,G.C.S.I.,G.C.B., 
 O.M., G.C.M.G., K.P. ; Secretary of State for War 32 
 
 A. KOUPRINE, Russian author 187 
 
 LANGE-MiJLLER. Peter Erasmus, Danish com- 
 poser 156 
 
 LANKESTER, SIR E. Ray, British scientist; 
 K.C.B., M.A., D.Sc, F.R.S., Member of the 
 Institute of France, Foreign Associate of th» 
 Royal Academy of Sciences of Belgium 144 
 
 LANSDÒWNE, Marquess of (Henry Charles 
 Keith Petty-Fitzmaurice), British Statesman ; 
 K.G., G.C.S.I., G.C.M.G. ; formerly Governor- 
 General of India and Foreign Secretary 23 
 
 LARMOR, Sir Joseph, English mathematician ; 
 
 Fellow and formerly Secretary of the Royal Society 39 
 
 LAURIER, RT. Hon. Sir Wilfrid, Canadian 
 Statesman ; G.C.M.G., LL.D., K.C. ; formerly 
 Premier of Canada 52 
 
 LAVEDAN, Henri, French author: Officier de la 
 Legion d'Honneur, Membre de l'Académie 
 française 115 
 
 LAVERY, John, British painter: R.S.A., R.H.A., 
 A.R.A., H.R.O.L. ; Chevalier of the Cromn of 
 Italy and of Leopold of Belgium facing 20 
 
 LAW, Rt. Hon. Andrew Bonar, M.P. ; British 
 
 Statesman 40 
 
 LEE, Sir Sidney, English author; LL.D., D.Litt.. 
 F.B.A. ; editor of the Dictionary of National 
 Biography ; Professor of English Language and 
 Literature rn the University of London 92 
 
 LEHMANN. Liza (Mrs. Herbert Bedford), 
 
 English composer no 
 
 LLOYD-GEORGE, The Rt. Hon. DA\^D, British 
 
 Statesinan ; Chancellor of the Exchequer 32 
 
 LOCKE, WlLLL^i John, English novelist; B.A. 
 (Cantab.), Hon. A.R.I.B.A. 68 
 
 LOCKYER, Sir (Joseph) Norìian, British 
 scientist ; K.C.'B.,'P.'R.S. 146 
 
 LODGE, Sir Joseph Oliver, British scientist : 
 F.R.S., D.Sc. London, Hon. D.S.. Oxford, 
 Cambridge, Victoria, and Liverpool ' 56 
 
 LONDON, Bishop of (Rt. Rev. Arthur Foley 
 Winnington Ingram), D.L ., LL.D. 82 
 
 LONDON, Jack, American novelist 122 
 
 LOTI, Pierre (Louis Marie J ulien Viaud), French 
 novelist; Membre de V Académie française 30 
 
 LOW, Sidney, British author and journalist ; 
 M.A. (Oxon) 51 
 
 LUCAS, Sir Charles, K.C.B., K.C.M.G. 52 
 
 LUCAS, Seymour, R.A. ; English painter facing 120 
 
 LUGARD, Lady', English author and journalist ; 
 formerly head of the Colonial Department of 
 " The Times " 169 
 
 LUND, Bishop of (Gottfried Billing) 127 
 
 MACIEIRA, Antonio, Portuguese Minister of 
 
 Justice and Foreign Affairs 150 
 
 MACKENZIE, Sir Alexander Campbell, British 
 composer. Principal of the Royal A cademy of Music 34 
 
 M'CORMICK, Arthur David, R.I„ I.O.P., 
 
 F.R.G.S. : English artist facing 176 
 
 IVL'VETERLINCK, Maurice, Belgian poet and 
 
 dramatist 18S 
 
 MALAGODI, OrLindo, Italian journalist ; editor 
 
 of " La Tribuna," Rome 175 
 
 MARCONI. Guglielmo, Electrical engineer 130 
 
 MASCAGNI, Pietro, Italian composer 167 
 
 MAXIM, Sir Hiram Stevens, C.E., M.E. ; Clievalier 
 
 of the Legion of Honour 140 
 
 WEREJKOWSKY, Dmitri, Russian author 180 
 
 MESSAGER, André, French composer ; Director 
 
 of the Grand Opera, Paris 41 
 
 MEYNELL, Mrs. Alice, English poetess and 
 
 essayist 50 
 
 MONET, Claude, French artist 56 
 
 MUNOZ, Don Lopez, ex-Foreign Secretary of Spain 145 
 MURRAY, George Gilbert Aimé, British 
 scholar : Regius Professor of Greek in the Univer- 
 sity of Oxford 83 
 
 NANSEN, Fridtjof, G.C.V.O., D.Sc, D.C.L., 
 
 Ph.D., F.R.G.S. ; Arctic explorer 32 
 
 NICHOLSON, William, English painter facing 182 
 NIELSEN, Kay, Danish artist facing 104 
 
 NORTHCLIFFE, Lord (Alfred Charles William 
 
 Harmsworth), English newspaper proprietor 78 
 
 NOVELLI, Ermete. Italian actor and dramatist ; 
 
 Commendatore of the Royal Crown of Italy 155 
 
 NOYES, Alfred, English poet ; Hon. Litt.D. Vale 
 
 University 25 
 
 O'CONNOR, Thomas Power, M.P. ; Irish States- 
 man and journalist : editor of" T.P.'s Journal" 1S5 
 
 ORCZY, The Baroness (Mrs. Montague Ear- 
 stow), English playwright and novelist 135 
 
 PADEREWSKI, Ignace Jan, Polish pianist and 
 
 composer ; Commander of the Order of the Crown of 
 
 Italy 
 PANKHURST, Emmeline, Hon. Treasurer of the 
 
 Women's Social and Political Union 
 PARIS, Cardinal Archbishop of (Léon Adol- 
 
 PHus Amette) 
 PARKER, Sir Gilbert, British author, 
 
 Litt.D., M.P. 
 PARRISH, Maxfield, American orlisi 
 PARTRIDGE, Bernard, English artist ; 
 
 of " Punch " 
 PENNELL, Joseph, artist 
 PERES, Ramon D., Spanish poet 
 PERLEY, Hon. George Halsev, 
 
 Statesman 
 PETRIE, Wn.LiAM Matthew Flinders, Egypto- 
 logist ; D.C.L., Litt.D., LL.D., Ph.D., F.R.S., 
 
 F.B.A. 
 PHILLPOTTS, Eden, English novelist 
 PINERO, Sir Arthur Wing, English dramatist : 
 
 Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature and 
 
 Member of the Academic Commillee 
 POLLOCK. Rt. Hon. Sir Frederick, LL.D., 
 
 D.C.L. ; Fellow of the British Academy, Hon. 
 
 Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Oxford 
 POVNTER, Sir Edward John, British painter; 
 
 K.C.V.O., President of the Royal Academy facing 
 
 II 
 
 D.C.L., 
 
 133 
 
 67 
 
 29 
 
 tacmg 
 
 H2 
 
 cartoonist 
 
 
 facing 
 
 164 
 
 facing 
 
 140 
 
 
 Ïj2 
 
 Canadi:in 
 
 
 151 
 
 92 
 62 
 
 51 
 
 133 
 
 ■24 
 
INDEX TO CONTRIBUTORS 
 
 PREVOST, Marcei,, French author ; Member of lite 
 French Academy 170 
 
 PROTIIERO, George Walter. M.A., Litt.D., 
 Hon. LL.D. (Editi, auci Harvard) ; editor oj" The 
 Quarterly Heview " 52 
 
 RACKHAM, Arthur, R.W.S., British artist and 
 illustrator facing 64 
 
 RAMSAY, Sir William, British scientist ; K.C.B., 
 F.R.S. ; Nobel prizeman 36 
 
 RAVEN-HILt,, Leonard, British artist and 
 
 illustrator : cartoonist of " Punch" facing 172 
 
 READING. Lord (Rt. Hon. Rufus Daniel 
 Isaacs), K.C.V.O., K.C. ; Lord Chief Justice of 
 England 129 
 
 REDESDALE, Lord Redesdale of (Algernon 
 Bertram Freeman-Mitford), British Slates- 
 man : G.C.V.O., K.C.B., D.L. 78 
 
 REDMOND, John Edward, M.P., Irish Statesman ; 
 
 Leader of the Irish Party in the House oJ Commons 24 
 
 REID, RT. Hon. .Sir George Houston, K.C.M.G., 
 
 D.C.L., K.C. ; High Commissioner for Australia 126 
 
 REIMS, Cardinal Archbishop of (Louis Henry 
 Luçon) 71 
 
 REINACH, Salomon, French author ; Membre de 
 l'Institut de France 131 
 
 RIBOT, Alexandre F., French Statesman ; Mem- 
 ber of the French Senate ; Membre de V Académie 
 française el l'Académie des Sciences Morales et 
 Politiques 133 
 
 RICHMOND, Sir William Blake, British painter ; 
 
 K.C. H., M. A., R.A. facing 40 
 
 RICHEPIN, Jean, French poet, romancer, conféren- 
 cier, dramatist ; Officier de la Légion d'Honneur : 
 Membre de V Académie française 106 
 
 RIVIERE, Briton, R.A., D.C.I,., British painter ; 
 
 Hon. Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford facing 56 
 
 ROBERTS, Earl, of Kandahar, Pretoria, ano 
 Waterford (Frederick Sleigh), British soldier, 
 deceased: G.C.B., G. C.S.I. , V.C, K.G., D.C.L., 
 LL.D., CM. ; Field-Marshal 55 
 
 ROLLAND, Romain, French author ; Membre du 
 Conseil de direction de l' Ecole des Hautes Etudes 
 Sociales 107 
 
 ROMANONES, Conde de, ex-Prime Minister of 
 Spaiti 168 
 
 ROSEBERY. Earl of (Archibald Philip 
 Primrose). British Statesman; K.G., K.T., Hon. 
 LL.D. Camb., F.R.S. 17 
 
 ROSTAND, Edmond, French dramatist ; Membre 
 de l'Académie française 15 
 
 RUSSELL. Sir Edward, English journalist and 
 essayist ; editor of the " Liverpool Daily Post and 
 Mercury " 117 
 
 RYLEY, Madeleine Lucette, A merican authoress 39 
 
 SAINT-SAËNS, Camille, French composer; 
 
 LL.D. Camb., D.Mus. Oxford 128 
 
 SALVINI, Tommaso, Italian actor ; Commendatore 
 
 of the Royal Croivn of Italy 166 
 
 SARAWAK, H.H. The Ranee op 52 
 
 SARTORIO, Giulio Aristide, Italian artist and 
 
 sculptor 49 
 
 SEAMAN, Sir Owen. M.A.. D.Litt. ; English 
 
 poet ; editor of " Punch " 123 
 
 SHANNON. James Jebusa, R.A., A.R.H.A. ; 
 British portrait painter ; President of the Society 
 of Portrait Painters facing 160 
 
 SICHEL, \VAh'tER,'M.A., Englisli author andbarrisler 162 
 SIENKIEWICZ, Henryk, Polish novelist ; author 
 
 of " Quo Vadis ? " 46 
 
 SINCLAIR. May. English novelist 141 
 
 SMYTH. Ethel, Mus. Doc, British composer 67 
 
 SOLOMON, Solomon Joseph. R.A. , British painter 
 
 facing 52 
 SOTHERN. Edward H., American actor 136 
 
 SPENDER. J. Alfred. English journalist; 
 
 editor of the " Westminster Gazette" 74 
 
 SPIELMANN. Marion H., F.S.A., F.R.S.L.; British 
 
 writer on art ; Chevalier of the Order of Leopold 132 
 
 STANFORD, SiR Charles Villiers, British 
 
 composer ; M.A., Mus. Doc, D.C.L., LL.D., 
 
 Prof, of Music, Camb. Univ. 124 
 
 STEEL, Flora Annie. English novelist 43 
 
 SUTRO. Alfred, English author and dramatist 123 
 
 TAFT. Hon. William Howard, American States- 
 man, ex-Prcsident of the United States of America 36 
 
 TREE, Sir Herbert Beerbohm, English actor 
 
 and manager 93 
 
 TREVES, Sir Frederick, Bt., British surgeon ; 
 G.C.V.O., C.B.. LL.D., M.D., F.R.C.S. ; Serjeant 
 Surgeon to the King 14Ó 
 
 VALDÊS, Armando Palagio, Spanish novelist 179 
 
 VERHAEREN, Emile. Belgium's national poet 80 
 
 VINOGRADOFF, PROFESSOR Paul, Russian 
 scholar ; F.B.A., Corpus Professor of Jurispru- 
 dence Oxford University 65 
 
 WARD, Sir Adolphus Willi.\m, Litt.D . LL.D., 
 
 F.B.A. ; Master of Pcterhouse, Cambridge 81 
 
 WARD, Mrs. Humphrey (Mary Augusta), English 
 
 novelist 75 
 
 WATERLOW, Sir Ernest Albert, Bt., R.A. ; 
 
 English landscape painter ; President of the Royal 
 
 Society of Painters in Water Colours facing 48 
 
 WATSON, William, English poet; Hon. LL D. 
 
 Aberdeen 33 
 
 WEBB, Sidney, LL.B.. Hon. Professor of Public 
 
 Administration, University of London 66 
 
 WF,STMINSTER, Cardinal Archbishop of 
 
 ([■'rancis Bourne) 22 
 
 WHARTON. IvDiTH, American novelist 165 
 
 WILCOX, Ell.\ Wheeler, American poetess 48 
 
 WINGATE, Lie-jt.-Gen. Sir Francis Reginald, 
 
 British soldier; G.C.V.O., K.C.B.. K.C.M.G., 
 
 D.S.O.. D.C.L. ; Sirdar of the Egyptian Army 20 
 
 WYNE,.-IAM. Sir Charles, English actor and 
 
 manager 77 
 
 YORK, Archbishop op (Most Rev. Cosmo 
 Gordon La.vg). D.D., D.C.L., LL.D. 70 
 
 ZANGWILL. Israel. British author; President 
 
 of the Jewish Territorial Organisation 1*^3 
 
 END 
 
 O F 
 12 
 
 THE 
 
 INDEX 
 
 T O 
 
 CONTRIBUTORS 
 
IO. BobningStrttt, 
 
 [)ittî)aIl.âM" 
 
 A*-^ 4t^ U^ o/ <^ «^t;/:. Uv^-^^^ . ^^ ^ — 
 
 13 
 
By THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY 
 CAPABLE historians, nen of insight and research, will set themselves, 
 long hence, in the calmer air which distance lends, to tell afresh, for old 
 and young, the beginnings of this dark and devastating war. Then the 
 story of Belgium's steadfastness to her plighted word of honour, and her 
 tireless resistance to high-handed wrong — a resistance sustained with un- 
 conquerable courage in face of ruthless and overwhelming force — will 
 become one of the golden pages of the world's story. And the contem- 
 porary witnesses of the ennobling fidelity thus shown by the people of a 
 little land do well to record at the moment, as in this book, their appreciation 
 of a valour which was tested by a sterner strain than even Thermopylae or 
 Sempach knew, and remained unshaken and unsullied to the end. God 
 grant to these men and women, and to their children yet unborn, the grace 
 and power to garner hereafter, for the common good, the fruits of this 
 devotion to the cause of liberty and of good faith, and of whatsoever makes 
 life worthier of our Christian heritage. 
 
 By H. H. AGA KHAN 
 
 I DEEM it a great privilege to be associated with this tribute to King Albert, 
 the heroic monarch of the martyr nation. The Moslems of India and the 
 British Empire, loo millions ir< all, have watched with ever-deepening 
 admiration the unflinching stand of the Belgian King and people against 
 the unprovoked attack of a terrible foe. Had Belgium been guided by 
 considerations of material good and immediate interest she would have 
 accepted the Kaiser's promise not to molest or injure if he was allowed an 
 undisputed passage to the French frontier for his troops. But this easy and 
 inglorious course was not contemplated even for a moment. Belgium 
 unhesitatingly chose the path of honour and duty and made an irreparable 
 sacrifice of material good foi moral glory. This undying record of a great 
 refusal has appealed to the best traditions and sentiments of Moslems in 
 India, whose history affords many stirring examples of readiness to lose all, 
 even life itself, for honour and duty. I can assure King Albert and his 
 glorious people that the Moslems of the British Empire fall behind no other 
 nation in their profound and sincere sympathy with them in the count- 
 less sorrows and sacrifices which constitute the imperishable glory of 
 Belgium. 
 
 14 
 
By EDMOND ROSTAND 
 
 Belgique, c'est ton front que r Aurore préfère ! 
 Ceux-là sont dévolus aux ténèbres, qui n'ont 
 Mis l'obus le plus grand dans le plus grand canon 
 Que pour mieux empêcher l'Avenir de se faire ! 
 
 " Trahissez l'Idéal et traitons une affaire," 
 Siffle un Bethmann-Hollweg plus double que son nom. 
 " Non ! " dit un Roi sublime. Et, butant sur ce non, 
 Le cheval d'Attila tout d'u?t coup se déferre. 
 
 " On s'en tire," a dit le Bethmann, " comme l'on peut. 
 Mais le Monde, admirant qu'un pays soit en feu 
 Pour avoir cru que c'est comme on doit qu'on s'en tire. 
 
 Luttera tant qu'un seul Barbare fera tort, 
 
 A ton voile, Maline, à ta couronne, Sire, 
 
 D'un seul point de dentelle et d'un seul fleuron d'or ! 
 
 (;^^ktuU ^D^A 
 
 By THE Rt. Hon. ARTHUR J. BALFOUR 
 I AM asked to speak of Belgium. Is it of Belgium as she is, or of Belgium 
 as she will one day be ? If the first, my theme would be the greatest of 
 national tragedies, but also the noblest. Nothing that can heighten our 
 sympathy or move our admiration is wanting. The weakness of the victim, 
 the justice of her cause, the greatness of her sufferings, and her unconquer- 
 able soul, have moved the wonder and pity of the world. And when we 
 turn from the victim to the oppressor, the tragic horror deepens. We see 
 wrong heaped on wrong, and treachery on treachery. Faithless in designing 
 his schemes, brutal in executing them, he has ruthlessly trampled under 
 foot all laws but the law of the strongest. He knows, it seems, no other. 
 But the drama is not going to end with the triumph of evil. We are wit- 
 nessing no irremediable tragedy. Happier days are yet to come. Wrongs 
 have indeed been done which nothing can right ; sufferings endured which 
 nothing can repay. Yet the time will surely come, and come soon, when 
 Belgium's wounds will heal, when morally and materially greater than 
 before, she will pursue in peace her high destiny, strong in the memories 
 of an heroic past, and in the affectionate esteem of all who love liberty and 
 admire valour. y /. 
 
 IS 
 
By HIS EXCELLENCY M. PAUL CAMBON 
 
 EN luttant avec héroïsme pour leur indépendance nationale et en s'imposant 
 noblemen, les plus douloureux sacrifices pour la défense du droit, le peuple 
 Belge et son Roi ont mérité la reconnaissance et l'admiration du monde 
 civilisé, et ils se sont acquis une gloire impérissable. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 By their heroic struggle for national independence 
 and their noble acceptance of the most terrible sacrifices 
 in defence of Right, fhe Belgian King and people have 
 earned the admiration and gratitude of the civilised 
 world, and have icon imperishable ^lory. 
 
 ^^C.-^^ ^- 
 
 By THE COUNT DE BENCKENDORFF 
 
 SI, par l'héroïsme déployé à la defense de son indépendance, la Belgique 
 
 s'est acquise l'admiration du monde, c'est de la reconnaissance que lui 
 
 doivent tous les peuples auxquels importe le maintien de l'ordre social, sur 
 
 lequel repose la civilisation. 
 
 Sans hésiter, elle s'est faite champion de la condition première à ce maintien, 
 
 la sainteté des conventions humaines et des traités, sans laquelle le principe 
 
 de l'état moderne s'effondre. 
 
 A sa gloire impérissable, la Belgique est restée également fidèle aux traditions 
 
 les plus reculées de ses peuples, et aux devoirs plus récents que la loi des 
 
 nations lui impose. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 If, by the heroism displayed in the defence of her 
 independence, Belgium has won the admiration of the 
 world, all other nations owe her gratitude, that is, 
 all nations which value the maintenance of social 
 order, on which civilisation is based. 
 Without hesitation, she has played the part of cham- 
 pion of the first condition of such maintenance — the 
 
 sanctity of human obligations and of treaties, without 
 
 which the principle of the modern State would 
 
 collapse. 
 
 To her everlasting glory, Belgium has remained 
 
 faithful to the most ancient traditions of her people, 
 
 and to the more modern duties that the law of nations 
 
 has imposed upon her. 
 
 By HIS EXCELLENCY KATSUNOSKE INOUYE 
 THE indomitable courage and patriotic ardour with which Belgium has 
 been exerting herself to defend her liberty and independence against the 
 wanton invasion of her territory by a powerful enemy has created the 
 greatest admiration throughout the world. In Japan, where chivalry and 
 patriotism reigns, Belgium's heroic defence has greatly aroused the sym- 
 pathy of her people, and we join in the hope that her flag, adorned anew 
 with glory, will in no distant future be floating again triumphantly through- 
 out her dominion. ^^ _ 
 
 i6 
 
By THE EARL OF ROSEBERY 
 
 IT is a privilege to write about the Belgians and their King, who have 
 proved once more that Kingship is not dead, and that heroism still survives. 
 A short time ago a young prince ascended the throne of this happy and 
 peaceful kingdom, the home of industry, manufacture, and commerce, the 
 garden of the Continent, at the gates of which stood a guardian angel armed 
 with the sword of Europe. It might well seem that a career of secure 
 prosperity lay before him and his subjects, who, to use an old Border phrase, 
 were " dreading harm from no man, but only wishing to live in God's peace 
 and the King's." In an instant all this fair prospect was blackened. Prussia, 
 which had twice solemnly guaranteed the independence of the little kingdom, 
 suddenly poured her hosts into it, not as might be supposed to protect, but 
 to destroy that independence. She thought, no doubt, that the Belgians 
 would bow to the necessity of such overwhelming odds and submit to the 
 invaders. She mistook her men. King Albert and his people protested 
 with arms in their hands. For the moment they stemmed the torrent. 
 Liege successfully resisted the enemy till overwhelming artillery' pounded 
 its forts to powder. Inch by inch the Belgians, headed by the King, 
 resisted, but the mass of invaders irresistibly rolled over them. Brussels 
 the capital and Antwerp the citadel had to be successively abandoned. At 
 last, almost all the kingdom was submerged, the Government had to retire 
 to France, the King to his unbroken army. Meanwhile the German legions 
 like a horde of barbarians had ravaged, plundered, and destroyed the country 
 they had sworn to protect. The rage of being baffled had apparently 
 maddened them. For the King and his Belgians at the cost of all they 
 cherished had retarded the march of the invaders and nullified their plans. 
 For the moment, Belgium, all mapped out, as it was, for Prussian cannon, 
 and swarming with Prussian spies, was the bulwark of Europe and of public 
 law. Not the resistance at Thermopylae to the millions of Xerxes was more 
 splendid, and Thermopylae only involved the sacrifice of a handful of men, 
 while this has cost a country and a nation. 
 
 There have been three Kings of the Belgians. The first, Leopold, steered 
 the little kingdom with exquisite skill through dangers from within and. 
 from without until he was hailed as the Nestor of Europe. The second 
 energetically sustained and developed the commerce and manufactures of 
 his realm with extraordinary success. But the third, Albert, has already 
 eclipsed his predecessors and ranks with William the Silent, the indomitable 
 champion of the Low Countries. 
 
 And when the Belgians return, to what will they return? The bare, ruined 
 remains of their smiUng country. Her fields ravaged, her villages burned, 
 her ancient monuments, the glory of Europe as well as of Belgium, destroyed. 
 For long years, perhaps for ever, Belgium will remain a monument of 
 infamy. War is a ruthless devouring monster at best. But there is chival- 
 rous war and there is devilish war, and the devastation of innocent Belgium 
 will long subsist as the capital example of the devilish. She has suffered 
 
 17 
 
much m the past, she has often been the theatre of conflict, she has been the 
 scene of great battles under Marlborough, she contains the field of Waterloo. 
 But she did not know what were the fiendish possibilities of warfare till 
 she was invaded by a treacherous friend. There has been no desolation 
 like it since the Thirty terrible Years which plunged Germany into ruin. 
 But nearly three centuries have elapsed since then, centuries of culture, 
 especially of German culture, in which we hoped that we had progressed 
 far from the possibility of the recurrence of such horrors. We were wrong. 
 German culture had taken a quick turn, and left civilisation, honour, and 
 chivalry far behind. The fruits of that culture are mines sown broadcast 
 in the ocean to destroy indiscriminately enemy, neutral, or friend, and 
 bombs to fall on peaceful cities to kill women and children. " By their 
 fruits ye shall know them." The Prussians indeed have abandoned the 
 Christian God, and substituted the worship of a Pagan deity which they 
 call Force or Might ; Might to supersede Right and all other moral forces. 
 Of this squalid idol they are fortunate enough to hold the permanent proxy ; 
 before this Moloch, if they worship anything, their chiefs bow the knee. 
 Its motto is Hate. Its angels are Fury, Destruction, and Rapine. It has 
 apparently no honour, no faith, no reverence. In its name they ravage, 
 massacre, and plunder. Before its shrine they burn their treaties as incense. 
 By its aid they hoped to subdue the world. Belgium was the first victim. 
 But the harrying and devastation of Belgium was only an incident. France 
 crushed, Russia humbled, Holland annexed were, it would seem, only the 
 milestones on a triumphant march to the real, supreme object, the humilia- 
 tion and destruction of the British Empire. Even that might not be the 
 ultimate aim, for, with Europe prostrate, the liberties and prosperity of 
 America would alarm the jealousy of the tyrant and call Moloch once more 
 into requisition. 
 
 How our practical and prosaic nation has earned this stealthy and masked 
 but determined hostility it is not easy to guess. And it is impossible to 
 believe that every German participates and approves of all that has been 
 done in their name. But in war criticism and dissent are always criminal, 
 and always silent. 
 
 The desolation of Belgium was, then, it appears, only an incident in this 
 subterranean policy. That consideration is but little solace to a ruined 
 nation. Their reward was to have been to become a Prussian province, 
 with all the liberty, independence, and happiness that that position involves ; 
 to be in fact a second Posen or Alsace. But, as things are, their only con- 
 solation, bleak for the moment, but eternal, can be that they have been the 
 vanguard in a battle of emancipation for the human race, that they stood 
 forth alone and nailed to the flagstaff the simple assertion of Right as against 
 Might, that they have immortalised themselves and will stand eternally as 
 heroes. History will pay homage for all time, as we now, to the King and 
 the nation who sacrificed all but honour to preserve their own independence 
 and safeguard the liberties of Europe. n y 
 
 i8 fi.^^n,'^^^^^^ 
 
By RUDYARD KIPLING 
 The Outlaws * 
 
 Through learned and laborious years 
 
 They set themselves to find 
 Fresh terrors and undreamed-of fears 
 
 To heap upon fnankind. 
 
 All that they drew jroni Heaven above 
 
 Or digged from earth bejieath. 
 They laid into their treasure-trove 
 
 And arsenals of death, 
 
 While, for zved-weighed advantage sake. 
 
 Ruler and ruled alike 
 Built up a faith they meant to break 
 
 When the fit hour should strike. 
 
 They traded with the careless earth. 
 
 And good return it gave ; 
 They plotted by their neighbour's hearth 
 
 The means to make him slave. 
 
 When all was readied to their hand 
 
 They loosed their hidden sword 
 And utterly laid waste a land 
 
 Their oath was pledged to guard. 
 
 Coldly they went about to raise 
 
 To life and make more dread 
 Abominations of old days, 
 
 That men believed were dead. 
 
 They paid the price to reach their goal 
 
 Across a world infiame, 
 But their own hate slew their own soul 
 
 Before that victory came. >S</7^««/T^,i^^j«;, 
 
 * Copyright in the United States of America by Rudyard Kipling, November 1914. 
 
 19 
 
By THE Rt. Hon. SIR EDWARD GREY, BART. 
 
 THE wrongs done to Belgium have brought home to us that we must 
 
 spare nothing and if need be must spend everything to secure justice for 
 
 her and freedom for us all. 
 
 What had the Belgians done that their country shoiild be invaded and 
 
 ravaged ? What provocation had a people given who threatened no one 
 
 and wanted nothing, but to be let alone, to govern themselves, to cultivate 
 
 their own land and to develop peaceful commerce ? 
 
 Love of liberty and independence is not crushed by oppression and force, 
 
 but set off by courage and suffering becomes an inspiration to its own 
 
 generation and is exalted to an imperishable place in history. 
 
 By LORD HARDINGE, VICEROY OF INDIA 
 By Telegraph from Delhi 
 
 NO nation has regarded with greater abhorrence than India the series of 
 crimes committed by Germans against their peaceful Belgian brothers. 
 With the deep sympathy, felt for them by the people of India in this hour 
 of sorrow, is coupled their admiration of the gallant resistance of their army 
 against the heaviest odds. May they be comforted by the thought that 
 their sacrifice will not have been in vain when the oppressors of the weak 
 have been finally overthrown. India will never rest till Belgium's wrongs 
 have been avenged. 
 
 By SIR REGINALD WINGATE 
 
 By Telegraph from Khartoum 
 
 ON behalf of the inhabitants of the Sudan, irrespective of race or creed, 
 
 I offer our respectful and united homage to Belgium's King, to the gallant 
 
 Belgian people and to Belgium's dead, who, in a materialistic age, have 
 
 vindicated the supremacy of an ideal and thereby have testified that the 
 
 age of heroes is indeed not past. 
 
 I have the honour of personally knowing His Majesty who came to the 
 
 Sudan shortly after his accession, stayed with us for a few days, and visited 
 
 portions of the districts south of Khartoum. 
 
 In the many talks I had with him, I was particularly struck with his high 
 
 ideals of Kingship and Government — not only of his own Belgian subjects — 
 
 but of the vast areas of the Congo Free State, in the advancement of which 
 
 he takes a most humane and absorbing interest, and which, under his 
 
 direction, have made such sensible strides in the direction of true civilisation 
 
 and progress. 
 
 20 
 
By THOMAS HARDY 
 
 Sonnet on the Belgian Expatriation 
 
 / dreamt that people from the Land of Chimes 
 Arrived one autumn morning zvith their bells, 
 To hoist them on the towers and citadels 
 Of my own country, that the musical rhymes 
 
 Rung by them into space at measured times 
 Amid the market's daily stir and stress, 
 And the flight's empty starlit silent ness. 
 Might solace souls of this and kindred climes. 
 
 Then I awoke : and lo, before me stood 
 The visioned ones, but pale and full of fear ; 
 From Bruges they came, and Antwerp, and Ostend, 
 
 No carillons in their train. Vicissitude 
 Had left these tinkling to the invaders' ear. 
 And ravaged street, and smouldering gable-end. 
 
 Ot^M. 
 
 By THE MARQUESS OF CREWE 
 
 SALUTING with deep respect the gallant Belgians and their noble Sove- 
 reign, we reflect that never in the world's history has any nation, with so 
 slender a pretence of reason, been subjected to outrage so cruel and so 
 deliberate as that which has lately stirred the blood of civilised mankind. 
 Those who begin by tearing up a solemn engagement have not far to descend 
 in the moral scale before they lay an innocent country waste ; but as an 
 English poet wrote when Lombardy was likewise trampled by a foreign 
 oppressor : 
 
 And though the stranger stand, 'tis true, 
 
 By force and fortune's right he stands ; 
 
 By fortune, which is in God's hands. 
 And strength, which yet shall spring in you. 
 
 r€wc^ 
 
 B* 21 
 
By CARDINAL BOURNE 
 
 IN all history it must be difficult to find an attack more brutal or less pro- 
 voked than that made in August of this year upon the Belgian people. But, 
 amid the untold sorrow of the weeks that have passed since then, the world 
 has been privileged to witness a wonderful outburst of courage and heroism 
 which, like the cause that has so purposelessly evoked it, is unparalleled 
 in the history of the nations. And the bravery of the Belgian people has 
 been centred and carried to its highest expression in the person of their 
 undaunted sovereign, Albert the First, King of the Belgians, No tribute, 
 therefore, could be more acceptable to our AlUes, who indeed have made 
 themselves at the cost of immense suffering the very saviours of European 
 civiUsation, than that which recognises in their King the inspiring force of 
 a resistance to injustice which has won the admiration of the world. 
 By none is that tribute paid more gladly than by the Catholics of England. 
 To them in the sad days of religious strife and persecution Flanders gave a 
 generous hospitality, which with willing hearts they endeavour to repay 
 to-day. We recall how, in 1561, when the ancient Universities of our 
 country banished from their halls those who ventured still to maintain the 
 old allegiance to the Holy See, it was at Louvain that the exiles found a 
 new home of learning, and set up therein two houses, to one of which they 
 gave the name of Oxford, and the other they called Cambridge. 
 In more recent happier times it is in Belgium that so many of our fellow- 
 countrymen have seen for the first time in action the living practice of the 
 Catholic Faith. It is to Belgium again that, often first among foreign lands, 
 they have turned their steps, when they have been brought to understand 
 and to accept anew the authority in spiritual things of the Apostolic See 
 of Rome. Belgium, too, has sent to us successive generations of devoted 
 priests who, in town and country, have laboured with us in gathering in 
 the harvest that has been so plentiful since the second spring. 
 For these reasons, and for many others on which the grateful memories 
 of individuals may dwell, we join in offering to His Majesty King Albert 
 the tribute of our thanks and praise, of our deepest sympathy, and of our 
 fervent prayer that the Divine Ruler of us all may soon restore peace to 
 the Belgian nation, and grant it renewed life and national prosperity far 
 excelling all that the past has known. ♦ ■ /■ j / fi 
 
 By THE EARL OF HALSBURY 
 
 His Majesty the King of the Belgians 
 
 " HE has honour and courage — qualities that eagle-plume men's souls and 
 
 fit them for the fiercest sun that ever melted the weak waxen minds that 
 
 flutter in the beams of gaudy power." 
 
 22 
 
By THE MARQUESS OF LANSDOWNE 
 
 I AM invited to add a few words to the tribute of admiration which the 
 compilers of this book desire to lay at the feet of the King of the Belgians. 
 On August 27, when both Houses of Parliament passed unanimously 
 a resolution conveying to His Majesty their sympathy and admiration, I 
 uttered the words which are quoted below. They were but a feeble 
 expression of my sentiments and of the sentiments of those who listened 
 to them, but they were at all events spontaneous and sincere, and all that 
 has happened during the two months which have since elapsed has only 
 served to intensify the feelings which prompted them. 
 
 All who are lovers of liberty, all who can appreciate the virtue of self-sacrifice, 
 all who are able to admire patriotism and who entertain respect for treaty 
 obligations, must feel that Belgium has rendered to the civilised world a signal 
 service by what she has done. If she had been inspired by less glorious ideals, 
 if her standard of honour had been less high, it might have been easy for her to 
 evade these responsibilities and to escape the terrible penalties which have fallen 
 upon her through her observance of them. She might have urged that this 
 dispute had arisen over a question which was far removed frojn her and her 
 interests. She might have dwelt upon her own comparative weakness as com- 
 pared with the strength of the Great Powers who are engaged in this colossal 
 struggle. She ?night have urged that events zvere moving so rapidly that there 
 was not time for her friends to range themselves at her side when the struggle 
 began. She might have dwelt upon the ruinous consequences to herself and to 
 her people of allowing the first act of this draitia to be played upon Belgian soil. 
 But she did none of these things. She never faltered in her setise of what she 
 owed to her own position as an independent State. When the bribe zvas offered 
 to her she knew how to thrust it on one side. She advanced two simple pro- 
 positions — first, that to accept the German proposal meant the sacrifice of her 
 honour as a nation ; second, that she felt able, in case her territory was violated, 
 to defend her own neutrality. My Lords, no simpler, no tnore dignified re- 
 joinder could, I venture to say, have been given to the inducetnents which the 
 German Government did not hesitate to dangle before Belgium as the price of 
 her dishonour. 
 
 We know how gallantly Belgium did defend the neutrality of her soil. She has 
 emerged fro7n the struggle bruised but indomitable. 
 
 And I venture to think that she has come out of this, the first phase of a great 
 war, zuith a halo of reputation of which any mighty Empire might well be proud. 
 If we had been merely disinterested spectators of these events the conduct of 
 Belgium would have claimed our applause and our admiration. But zve are 
 not mere spectators. We are the comrades in arms of Belgium, zve are her 
 allies^ we are associated with her in this vast enterprise, in which our country 
 
 23 
 
has so tremendous a stake, and therefore it is that we have to offer to Belgium 
 not merely our admiration, but our gratitude, for the great achievement which 
 she has accomplished. 
 
 The noble Marquess dwelt in eloquent words upon the price zvhich the people 
 of Belgium have had to pay for these great achievements. It has indeed been 
 a terrible price. We can, at any rate, offer to them the whole-hearted sympathy 
 of our people. And I will take upon myself to say this : zvhatever else i.iay 
 happen during the course of the zvar — and it is a war in zvhich there zoili be no 
 doubt stirring episodes and great feat of arms — nothing can happen which will 
 more affect public opinion in this country than the conduct of Belgium in this 
 short period of time. Whatever else is forgotten, that episode will remain 
 graven upon the hearts of the people of this country. I believe there is not a 
 man or zvoman within it zvho does not pray that in the fullness of time we 
 may be able to give practical proof by our deeds of the gratitude, the sym- 
 pathy, and the admiration which in feeble words we are seeking to express 
 this evening. 
 
 By THE Rt. Hon. SIR ROBERT BORDEN 
 
 By Cable 
 
 FOR the crime of defending its territories against unprovoked invasion by 
 
 a Power pledged to hold them inviolate, Belgium has, with supreme fortitude, 
 
 endured suflerings and sacrifices almost surpassing the imagination and 
 
 moving all humanity to an infinite compassion. 
 
 As long as the Love of Liberty shall endure, as long as the character and 
 
 greatness of a nation shall be measured by its ideals, the valour and heroism, 
 
 the faith and devotion of the Belgian People and of their King shall dwell 
 
 in the memory of men, and shall be the exemplar and inspiration, not of 
 
 Belgium alone, but of the world. 
 
 By JOHN REDMOND 
 
 THE Irish nation has many strong and tender ties with Belgium. We owe 
 her a debt of gratitude for the past, and there is no nation in the world 
 which has been more profoundly touched than Ireland by the extraordinary 
 gallantry of the Belgian people and their brave Sovereign. We Irishmen 
 are all glad to know that men of our race have been at the front helping 
 Belgium to defend her integrity and independence, and Ireland sends to 
 King Albert an expression of her deepest sympathy and admiration. 
 
 24 
 

 
 
 ' ^ "ÌM 
 
By ALFRED NOYES 
 
 The Redemption of Europe 
 
 . . . donee tempia refeceris. 
 
 Under -which banner ? It was night 
 Beyond all nights that ever zoere. 
 
 The Cross zvas broken. Blood-stained might 
 Moved like a tiger jrom its lair ; 
 
 And all that heaven had died to quell 
 
 Awoke, and mingled earth zvith hell. 
 
 For Europe, ij it held a creed. 
 
 Held it through custom, not through faith. 
 Chaos returned, in dream and deed. 
 
 Right zcas a legend ; Love — a wraith ; 
 And That Jrom which the world began 
 Was less than even the best in man. 
 
 God in the image oj a Snake 
 
 Dethroned that dream, too fond, too blind. 
 The man-shaped God zvhose heart could break. 
 
 Live, die, and triumph zvith mankind. 
 A Super-snake, a Juggernaut, 
 Dethroned the highest oj human thought. 
 
 The lists were set. The eternal joe. 
 Within us as without grew strong. 
 
 By many a super-subtle blow 
 
 Blurring the lines oj right and wrong 
 
 In Art and Thought, till nought seemed true 
 
 But that soul- slaughtering cry oj New ! 
 
 New wreckage oj the shrities we made 
 
 Thro' centuries oj jorgotten tears . . . 
 
 We knew not where their scorn had laid 
 Our Master. Twice a thousand years 
 
 Had dulled the iincapricious Sun. 
 
 Manijold worlds obscured the One ; 
 
 25 
 
26 
 
 Obscured the reign of Law, our stay, 
 
 Our compass through this darkling sea. 
 
 The one sure light, the one sure way, 
 The one firm base of Liberty ; 
 
 The one firm road that men have trod 
 
 Through Chaos to the Throne oj God. 
 
 Choose ye, a hundred legions cried, 
 Dishonour or the instant sword ! 
 
 Ye chose. Ye met that blood-stained tide. 
 A little kingdom kept its word ; 
 
 And, dying, cried across the night. 
 
 Hear us, O earth, we chose the Right ! 
 
 Whose is the victory ? Though ye stood 
 Alone against the unmeasured joe ; 
 
 By all the tears, by all the blood 
 
 That fiowed, and have not ceased to fiozv ; 
 
 By all the legions that ye hurled 
 
 Back, thro' the thunder -shaken world ; 
 
 By the old that have not where to rest. 
 
 By lands laid waste and hearths defiled ; 
 
 By every lacerated breast, 
 
 And every mutilated child. 
 
 Whose is the victory ? Anszver ye, 
 
 Who, dying, smiled at tyranny : 
 
 Under the sky's triumphal arch 
 The glories of the dawn begin. 
 
 Our dead, our shadowy armies march 
 E'en now, in silence, through Berlin ; 
 
 Dumb shadows, tattered blood-stained ghosts, 
 
 But cast by what swift following hosts ? 
 
 à 
 
And answer, England ! At thy side, 
 
 Thro' seas of blood, thro' mists of tears, 
 
 Thou that for Liberty hast died 
 
 And Hvest, to the end of years ! — 
 
 And answer, Earth ! Far off, I hear 
 
 The pceans of a happier sphere : 
 
 The trumpet blown at Marathon 
 
 Resounded over earth and sea, . 
 
 But burning jmgel lips have blown 
 The trumpets of thy Liberty ; 
 
 For who, beside thy dead, could deem 
 
 The faith, for which they died, a dream ? 
 
 Earth has not been the same since then. 
 
 Europe from thee received a soul, 
 Whence nations moved in law, like men, 
 
 As members of a mightier whole. 
 Till wars were ended. . . . In that day, 
 So shall our children's children say. 
 
 d/±^ Ttey^ 
 
 By EARL CURZON OF KEDLESTON 
 
 WHATEVER the future may have in store for Belgium, her name and that 
 of her heroic Sovereign, King Albert, will for ever shine out in history for 
 the noble stand which they have made on behalf of her own independence, 
 of international honour, and of the liberties of mankind. 
 For her fortitude she has paid the penalty of a suffering unequalled in modern 
 history, inflicted by an enemy, to whose cruelty ancient history scarcely 
 affords a parallel. 
 
 Nevertheless Belgium by her conduct, and still more by her example, has 
 rendered a priceless service to humanity, for she has once more taught the 
 world the sublime truth that national honour is preferable to national 
 security, and that, though the body may be destroyed the spirit is immortal. 
 For the moment a crown of thorns has been pressed down upon her temples, 
 but Europe, nay, the civilised world, will see to it that she is healed of her 
 grievous wounds ; and some day, let us hope before long, she will live again 
 in the recovered prosperity of her people, and the admiring gratitude of 
 mankind. /? 
 
 27 
 
By THE Rt. Hon. WINSTON S. CHURCHILL 
 
 AT this moment when their cities are captive, their country under the 
 yoke, their government and army forced into exile, the Belgian nation is 
 exerting an influence upon the destinies of Europe and of mankind beyond 
 that of great States in the fullness of prosperity and power ; and from the 
 abyss of present grief and sufi^ering Belgium looks out with certainty to a 
 future more brilliant than any which she could ever have planned. 
 
 By FREDERIC HARRISON 
 
 IT was the chief glory of ancient Athens, even when it -was acknowledged 
 by the civilised world to stand first in poetr}% art, eloquence, and grace, 
 that the men of Athens had been " the first to withstand and defeat the 
 terrible Mede in battle." So, the men of Belgium have been the first to 
 defy and stem the torrent over France of the German host which thought 
 itself invincible and went forth to domineer in Europe. 
 History tells us that if the millions of Xerxes could have crushed Greece 
 the higher civilisation of mankind would have been arrested. Just so, 
 modern civilisation would have been set back if the Kaiser's millions had 
 been suffered to make their procession along the Meuse in triumph and 
 could have reached Paris according to the time-table of Potsdam. France, 
 Britain, Europe owe an imperishable debt to Belgium, that her heroic 
 constancy and valour prevented this monstrous catastrophe even at the cost 
 of their lives, their homes, and their children. 
 
 It is the first duty of the Allies to restore the noble people who sacrificed 
 themselves for us — for peace — for freedom — for humanity. 
 In all modern history there is no example of a martyrdom by a whole 
 nation — so cruel — so generous — so valiant. When France, Britain, Russia 
 shall have crushed out this conspiracy against humanity, when militarism 
 is extinct in Germany — extinct for ever in the world — whatever may have 
 been the victories and the achievements of the Allies — still for all time the 
 heroism of the Belgian people who " first bore the brunt of the terrible 
 Mede " (as the orators would say at Athens) will stand highest in the record 
 
 of valour. 
 
 By VISCOUNT ESHER 
 
 I SHOULD not have ventured to write in King Albert's Book were 
 it not that my father-in-law's name, " Sylvain Van de Weyer," stands 
 with that of Lord Palmerston at the head of the " scrap of paper," so con- 
 temptuously scorned by the German Chancellor. 
 
 The Belgian patriots of 1830 who offered the throne to King Leopold 
 would have gloried in the steadfast valour of his grandson, and in the 
 immortal sufferings of the nation they helped to call into being. 
 
 28 
 
By THE CARDINAL ARCHBISHOP OF PARIS 
 C'EST de toute mon âme que j'offre mon hommage à la vaillante nation 
 Belge et à son magnanime Souverain, Sa Majesté Albert P^ 
 Mis en demeure de fouler aux pieds la foi jurée ou de subir une invasion 
 sanglante et ruineuse, le Roi des Belges et son peuple ont répondu : " Plutôt 
 la mort que la souillure ! " Pour résister à la violence inique et barbare 
 dont ils sont victimes, ils ont lutté et luttent encore avec un courage que 
 rien n'abat, ils supportent sans défaillance les pires calamités. Honneur 
 à eux ! 
 
 Leur héroïsme est digne de toute admiration, et leurs souffrances méritent 
 toute sympathie. Soldats tombés en grand nombre sur les champs de 
 bataille, innocents massacrés, villes et villages incendiés, monuments 
 détruits, populations exilées : tous les malheurs font de la Belgique une 
 nation martyre, et excitent la compassion de tous les nobles cœurs. 
 Nulle part cette sympathie ne saurait être plus vive qu'en France. 
 En se sacrifiant pour défendre son honneur et son indépendance, la Belgique 
 a barré le chemin à l'envahisseur qui voulait écraser la France. Par là elle 
 s'est acquis des droits impérissables à la reconnaissance de tous les Français. 
 Ceux-ci ne seront point ingrats. 
 
 Avec les Belges et avec les Anglais, nos glorieux alliés, nos armées com- 
 battront jusqu'au bout pour chasser l'envahisseur. Nous aurons à cœur 
 de venir largement en aide à nos frères en détresse. Enfin nous supplierons 
 le Dieu des justices de prendre en mains la cause de ce peuple, si fidèle au 
 Christ et à son Eglise, et de lui rendre, avec un territoire libéré et un 
 patrimoine de gloire agrandi, la paix et la prospérité. 
 
 Yû^ - ^y^, ^^2W • v/^7?7^^^^^^^ 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 From the depths of my soul I offer my homage to the 
 valiant Belgian nation and to her magnanimous 
 Sovereign, His Majesty Albert I. 
 Faced with the alternative of spurning their pledged 
 word or submitting to a bloody and ruinous invasion, 
 the King of the Belgians and his people replied : 
 " Death before dishonour I " In their resistance to 
 the iniquitous and barbarous violence of which they 
 arc the victims, they have struggled and are still 
 struggling with unconquerable courage — they endure 
 the worst calamities without flinching. All honour 
 to them 1 
 
 Their heroism is worthy of the highest admiration 
 and their sufferings claim the sympathy of the whole 
 world. Soldiers fallen in vast numbers on the field 
 of battle, innocent creatures massacred, towns and 
 villages burnt to the ground, monuments destroyed, 
 populations exiled : such are the horrors that have 
 
 made Belgium the Martyr Nation, and stirred the 
 compassion of all noble hearts. 
 
 In no country is this sympathy deeper than in France. 
 By sacrificing herself in defence of her honour and 
 independence, Belgium blocked the invader's passage 
 when he aimed at crushing France. By so doing 
 she has earned imperishable rights arid the gratitude 
 of all French people. 
 They will not be ungrateful. 
 
 With the Belgians and the English, our glorious 
 Allies, our armies will fight to the end to drive out 
 the invader. We shall tnake it a point of honour to 
 come generously to the assistance of our brothers in 
 distress. Finally, we shall pray to the God of Justice 
 to uphold the cause of a people so faithful to Christ 
 and to His Church, and to grant them peace and 
 prosperity in a free land with an increased patrimony 
 of glory. 
 
 29 
 
By PIERRE LOTI 
 
 Deux Pauvres Petits Oisillons de Belgique 
 
 UN soir, dans une de nos villes du sud, un train de réfugiés belges venait 
 d'entrer en gare, et les pauvres martyrs un à un descendaient lentement, 
 exténués et ahuris, sur ce quai inconnu, où des français les attendaient pour 
 les recueillir. Traînant avec eux quelques hardes prises au hasard, ils 
 étaient montés dans ces voitures sans même se demander où elles les con- 
 duiraient, ils étaient montés dans la hâte de fuir, d'éperdûment fuir devant 
 l'horreur et la mort, devant le feu, devant les indicibles mutilations et les 
 viols sadiques,- — devant tout ce qui ne semblait plus possible sur la Terre, 
 mais qui couvait encore, parait-il, au fond des piétistes cervelles allemandes, 
 et qui tout à coup s'était déversé, sur leur pays et sur le nôtre, comme un 
 dernier vomissement des barbaries originelles. Ils n'avaient plus ni village, 
 ni foyer, ni famille, ceux qui arrivaient là sans but, comme des épaves, et 
 la détresse effarée était dans les yeux de tous. Beaucoup d'enfants, de 
 petites filles, dont les parents s'étaient perdus au milieu des incendies ou 
 des batailles. Et aussi des aïeules, maintenant seules au monde, qui avaient 
 fui sans trop savoir pourquoi, ne tenant plus à vivre mais poussées par un 
 obscur instinct de conservation ; leur figure, à celles-là, n'exprimait plus 
 rien, pas même le désespoir, comme si vraiment leur âme était partie et 
 leur tête vidée. 
 
 Deux tout petits, perdus dans cette foule lamentable, se tenaient serrés par 
 la main, deux petits garçons, visiblement deux petits frères, l'aîné, qui 
 avait peut-être cinq ans, protégeant le plus jeune qui pouvait bien en avoir 
 trois. Personne ne les réclamait, personne ne les connaissait. Comment 
 avaient-ils compris, trouvés tout seuls, qu'il fallait monter dans ce train, eux 
 aussi, pour ne pas mourir ? Leurs vêtements étaient convenables et ils 
 portaient des petits bas de laine bien chauds ; on devinait qu'ils devaient 
 appartenir à des parents modestes, mais soigneux ; sans doute étaient-ils 
 fils de l'un de ces sublimes soldats belges, tombés héroïquement au champ 
 d'honneur, et qui avait dû avoir pour eux, au moment de la mort, une 
 suprême pensée de tendresse. Ils ne pleuraient même pas, tant ils étaient 
 anéantis par la fatigue et le sommeil ; à peine s'ils tenaient debout. Ils 
 étaient incapables de répondre quand on les questionnait, mais surtout 
 ils ne voulaient pas se lâcher, non. Enfin le grand aîné, crispant toujours 
 sa main sur celle de l'autre, dans la peur de le perdre, prit tout à coup 
 conscience de son rôle de protecteur et trouva la force de parler à la dame 
 à brassard penchée vers lui : 
 
 " Madame," dit-il, d'une toute petite voix suppliante et déjà à moitié 
 endormie, '' Madame, est-ce qu'on va nous coucher ? " Pour le moment, 
 c'était tout ce qu'ils étaient capables de souhaiter encore, tout ce qu'ils 
 attendaient de la pitié humaine : qu'on voulût bien les coucher. Vite on 
 les coucha, ensemble bien entendu, et ils s'endormirent aussitôt, se tenant 
 toujours par la main et pressés l'un contre l'autre, à la même minute plongés 
 tous les deux dans la tranquille inconscience des sommeils enfantins. . . . 
 
 20 
 
Une fois, il y a longtemps, dans la mer de Chine, pendant la guerre, deux 
 petits oiseaux étourdis, deux minuscules petits oiseaux, moindres encore que 
 nos roitelets, étaient arrivés je ne sais comment à bord de notre cuirassé, 
 dans l'appartement de notre amiral, et, tout le jour, sans que personne du 
 reste cherchât à leur faire peur, ils avaient voleté là de côté et d'autre, se 
 perchant sur les corniches ou sur les plantes vertes. 
 
 La nuit venue, je les avais oubliés, quand l'amiral me fit appeler chez lui. 
 C'était pour me les montrer, et avec attendrissement, les deux petits visiteurs, 
 qui étaient allés se coucher dans sa chambre, posés d'une patte sur un frêle 
 cordon de soie qui passait au-dessus de son lit. Bien près, bien près l'un 
 de l'autre, devenus deux petites boules de plumes qui se touchaient et se 
 confondaient presque, ils dormaient sans la moindre crainte, comme très 
 sûrs de notre pitié. . . . 
 
 Et ces pauvres petits belges, endormis côte à côte, m'ont fait penser aux 
 deux oisillons perdus au milieu de la mer de Chine. C'était bien la même 
 confiance et le même innocent sommeil ; — mais des sollicitudes beaucoup 
 plus douces encore allaient veiller sur eux. 
 
 } 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 Two Poor Little Belgian Fledglings 
 At evening in one of our southern tokens, a train full 
 of Belgian refugees ran into the station, and the poor 
 martyrs, exhausted and bezvildered, got out slowly, 
 one by one, on the unfamiliar platform, tvhere French 
 people were waiting to receive ihcrn. Carrying a few 
 possessions caught up at randotn, they had got into 
 the carriages without even asking whither they were 
 bound, urged by their anxiety to flee, to flee desperately 
 from horror and death, from unspeakable mutilation 
 and Sadie outrage — from things that seemed no longer 
 possible in the world, but which, it seems, zcere lying 
 dormant in pietistic German brains, and had suddenly 
 belched forth upon their land and ours, like a belated 
 manifestation of original barbarism. They 7io longer 
 possessed a village, nor a heme, nor a family ; they 
 arrived like jetsom cast up by the waters, and the eyes 
 of all zcere full of terrified atiguish. Many children, 
 little girls whose parents had disappeared in the stress 
 of fire and battle ; and aged women, new alone in the 
 world, who had fled, hardly knowing why, no longer 
 caring for life, but moved by some obscure instinct of 
 self-p reser va tion . 
 
 Two little creatures, lost in the pitiable throng, held 
 each other lightly by the haiid, tzvo little boys obviously 
 brothers, the elder, who may have been five years 
 old, protecting the younger, of about three. No one 
 claimed them, 1:0 one knew them. How had they 
 been able to understand, finding themselves alone, 
 that they too must get into this train, to escape death ? 
 Their clothes were decent, and their little stockings were 
 thick and warm ; clearly they belonged to humble 
 but careful parents ; they were, doubtless, the sons of 
 one of those sublime Belgian soldiers who had fallen 
 heroically on the battle-field, and whose last thought 
 had perhaps been one of supreme tenderness for them. 
 
 They were not even crying, so overcome were they by 
 fatigue and sleepiness ; they could scarcely stand. 
 They could not answer when they were questioned, 
 but they seemed intent, above all, upon keeping 
 a tight hold of each other. Finally the elder, 
 clasping the little one's hand closely, as if fearing to 
 lose him, seemed to awake to a sense of his duty as 
 protector, and, half asleep already, found strength to 
 say, in a suppliant tone, to the Red Cross lady bend- 
 ing over him : " Madame, are they going to put us 
 to bed soon ? " For the tnomcnt this was all they 
 were capable of wishing, all that they hoped for from 
 human piiv : to be put to bed. 
 They were put to bed at once, together, of course, 
 still holding each other tightly by the hand, and 
 nestling one against the other, they fell at the same 
 momeiit into the tranquil unconsciousness of childish 
 slumber. 
 
 Once, long ago, in the China Sea, during the war, 
 tzvo little frightened birds, smaller even than our wrens, 
 arrived I know not how, on board our iron-clad, in 
 our admiral's cabin, and all day long, though no one 
 attempted to disturb them, they fiuttered from side 
 to side, perching on cornices and plants. 
 At tiightfall, when I had forgotten them, the admiral 
 sent for me. It was to shozv me, not without emotion, 
 the tzoo little visitors, zcho had gone to roost in his 
 room, perched upon a slender silken cord above his 
 bed. They nestled closely together, tzvo little balls of 
 feathers, touching and almost merged one in the other, 
 and slept without the slightest fear, sure of our pity. 
 And those little Belgians sleeping side by side made 
 me think of the two little birds lost in the China Sea. 
 There was the same confidence, and the same innocent 
 slumber ; — but a greater tenderness was about to 
 watch over them. 
 
 31 
 
By THE Right Hon. DAVID LLOYD GEORGE 
 
 IT has been the privilege of httle nations at different periods in the history 
 of the world to render some signal service to civilisation. That duty Belgium 
 has now been called upon to render to European civilisation, and nobly has 
 she answered the call. 
 
 It is her heroism that has forced Prussian Junkerdom, its character, and its 
 designs, into the light of day. As long as it intrigued against France, Russia, 
 or Britain, it might have continued to take cover under some plausible, 
 diplomatic pretext ; but to assail Belgium it had to come into the open, 
 where its arrogance, its brutality, and its aggressiveness became manifest 
 to the world. It was Belgian valour that exposed the sinister character of 
 Prussian militarism, and when that menace is finally overthrown the most 
 honourable share in the triumph will be due to Belgian sacrifice. 
 This unfortunate country is now overwhelmed by the barbarian flood ; but 
 when the sanguinary deluge subsides Belgium will emerge a great and a 
 glorious land which every lover of liberty will honour, and every tyrant 
 henceforth shun. 
 
 By EARL KITCHENER OF KHARTOUM 
 I SINCERELY hope that this book may accomplish its twofold object of 
 bearing further testimony to our admiration of the courage and devotion 
 to duty shown by King Albert and his Army, and of securing material help 
 and comforts for the Belgians who have suftered so terribly at the hands of 
 an invading enemy 
 
 yl^ 
 
 By FRIDTJOF NANSEN 
 
 IT is a great privilege to have obtained such an opportunity as this book 
 
 affords of expressing the deepest sympathy of the citizen of a small nation 
 
 for the gallant people and the noble King and Queen of Belgium. 
 
 It is needless to say that one's heart goes out to this people whose fate is 
 
 the most cruel tragedy of modern history. But words seem weak and of 
 
 little value when one thinks of the distress of a splendid people who have 
 
 fought so nobly and sacrificed so much for their freedom and their country. 
 
 32 
 
By WILLIAM WATSON 
 To His Majesty King Albert 
 
 Receive , from one who hath tiot lavished praise 
 On many Princes, nor was ever awed 
 By Empire such as grovelling slaves applaud, 
 
 Who cast their souls into its altar-blaze, — 
 
 Receive the homage that a freeman pays 
 
 To Kinghood flowering out of Manhood broad, 
 Kinghood that toils wicovetous of laud. 
 
 Loves whom it rides, and serves the realm it sways. 
 
 For when Your people, caught in agony's net. 
 
 Rose as one dauntless heart, their King was found 
 ■ Worthy on such a throtie to have been set. 
 
 Worthy by such as They to have been crowned ; 
 
 And loftier praise than this did îiever yet 
 
 On mortal ears from lips of mortals sound. 
 
 CJctL- 
 
 By THE Hon. JOSEPH H. CHOATE 
 
 UNDER the gallant lead of the heroic Belgian King, his down-trodden 
 
 and afflicted people have been' figliting for Hberty, and to maintain the 
 
 plighted faith of nations, which guaranteed it to them. Those who were 
 
 guilty of an awful breach of faith, confessed their crime while in the act of 
 
 committing it, and pleaded necessity, to absolve them from all law, a plea 
 
 which the whole civilised world refuses to accept. 
 
 For their bold stand for right and duty, the Belgians, guiltless of all offence, 
 
 have been overwhelmed by numbers, trampled in the dust, and reduced to 
 
 starvation, their homes destroyed, their whole country devastated and 
 
 converted into a human slaughter-house. 
 
 In this sad plight, they have deserved and are receiving the sympathy and 
 
 the helping hand of people of every civilised nation in this hour of their dire 
 
 distress. 
 
 I am glad to know that my countrymen are sending material relief to the 
 
 sufferers, and with it the hearts of our people go out to them and their 
 
 brave King, in human sympathy, unfeigned and unrestrained. 
 
 As neutrals, by international law and by our own law, our hands are tied 
 
 and will remain so. But our hearts go whither they list. 
 
 33 
 
RobertBrowag ^^OM MO NEVER TURNED HIS BACK' 
 
 (From Asolando J i 
 
 Allegro (J -69) 
 
 Alexander C 
 Mackenzie . 
 
 motto moderato, alla marcia. {9 - 100) 
 
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 Never dreamed though right were worsted, wrong would triumph. 
 
acceìercuido 
 
 > sempre 
 
 ^/!A^-^^ 
 
By SIR WILLIAM RAMSAY 
 
 EVERY scientific man who is not a Teuton (and I hope and trust many 
 who are of German race) deplores the barbarity, incredible if it were not 
 true, with which Belgium has been treated. We had hoped that the univer- 
 sality of the spread of science, both pure, and applied to industry, would 
 have made it impossible for any nation to revert to barbarism, and to destroy 
 what it has taken so many centuries to create. The scientific achievements 
 of the Belgians has always stood on the highest plane ; to quote only two 
 instances, taken from my own subject, the name of Stas, in pure science, 
 and of Solvay, in applied science, are among the most illustrious in their 
 particular spheres, which the world has ever produced. 
 We can only extend to the Belgians our most heartfelt sympathy, and assure 
 them, in the person of their Sovereign, that we shall spare no efl'ort, when 
 the time comes, to aid Belgium to regain that place among the nations 
 which she has filled with so much credit in the past. Complete restitution 
 of all she has lost will be impossible ; but much can, and no doubt will be 
 done to recompense her for having, alone and unaided, repelled for a time 
 successfully the invasion of barbaric hordes, and enabled the progressive 
 races of Europe to repel the incursions of those who would subject them 
 to an era of retrogression in Arts, Science, and Literature. 
 
 f^ri/t,{ <■ AAAA^a^^^ <*/ 
 
 By THE Hon. WILLIAM H. TAFT 
 
 THE heart of the world should go out to the poor people of Belgium. 
 Without being in any respect a party to the controversies of the war, their 
 country has been made the battle-ground of the greatest, and in some 
 respects the most destructive war in history. Any movement to relieve 
 their distress has my profound sympathy. 
 
 By SIR W. B. RICHMOND, R.A. 
 
 " The Crown of Peace " 
 
 Sweet Peace rises out of the flatties oj War which give way to her benign 
 Beauty : she brings with Her an immortal crown which she presents to a 
 Brave King and People who have saved Europe from Barbarian hordes 
 by their sacrifice and heroism. 
 
 Dedicated to the Great King of the Noble Belgians, 
 who have saved Europe from the Barbarians. 
 
 In respect, 
 
 36 
 
By ARNOLD BENNETT 
 The Return 
 
 TWENTY years ago I learnt one day by chance that the first-class return 
 fare from London to Ostend by steamer was only half a guinea. I had 
 always imagined that "the Continent" could only be visited by rich people, 
 — certainly not by clerks. For me it was a region beyond the borders of 
 my hopes for ages to come. The fact that the cost of reaching the Continent 
 from London was much less than half of the cost of reaching my own home 
 in the Midlands struck me such a blow in the back as wakes up a man dozing 
 on the high-road and sends him staggering forward on his way. 
 At the earliest opportunity I boarded the Ostend steamer, somewhere near 
 London Bridge, and saw, first, the marvels of the Port of London. I had 
 lived in London several years and never realised that it was a port — to say 
 nothing of being the largest port in the world. I next realised, tossing in 
 the small steamer at sea, that Great Britain really was an island — a fact with 
 which I had hitherto been only intellectually familiar, from enforced study 
 of a school geography. These were remarkable experiences, but they were 
 naught in comparison with the sensation of first seeing a foreign land. I 
 descried a lighthouse, a long line of pale hotels, and the grandiose outlines 
 of the Kursaal. I said to myself with awe : 
 " That is the Continent !" 
 
 It seemed fabulous, dream-like, impossible. The steamer touched the quay, 
 threw out ropes, and was moored. I stepped ashore. I was on Belgian 
 soil, the first foreign soil my feet had ever touched. I saw strange archi- 
 tecture, strange costumes ; I heard strange sounds and strange languages. 
 Everything was romantic. Even the tramcar was inexpressibly romantic ; 
 the postmen with their little horns were fantastic, and the cafés each a quaint 
 paradise of good cheer. I was so moved by the sheer romance of the affair 
 that I could not speak. I said to myself : 
 " I actually am on the Continent." 
 
 I could hardly believe it. It was too good, and too astounding, too over- 
 whelming, to be true. 
 
 Yet it was true. And after a time I grew somewhat accustomed, though 
 never entirely accustomed, to the feeling — though since then I have lived 
 on the Continent for many years. 
 
 My emotion as I first walked about in Ostend (looking no doubt a queer 
 enough uncouth gaping English figure) was one of the emotions that I could 
 not conceivably forget, one of the major formative emotions of my whole 
 life. And therefore, among all the cities and countries of the Continent 
 Ostend and Belgium hold a unique position in my souvenirs. I have gone 
 to Belgium frequently since then. I have entered by sea at Antwerp, and 
 by train from Paris, and I have sailed right into Bruges in my yacht — and 
 each time I have had the same thrill, recalling my first visit. 
 From Ostend, on that first visit, I went to Bruges, and there understood 
 for the first time what a historical city of art could be. Bruges was to me 
 
 c* 37 
 
incredible in its lofty and mellow completeness. It was a town in a story ; 
 its inhabitants were characters out of unread novels ; its chimes were magic 
 from the skies. It had not a street that was not a vision. Even the railway- 
 station at Bruges had some of the characteristics of a cathedral. . . Thence 
 to Ghent, where the same kind of wondrous picturesqueness was united to 
 the spectacle of commerce . . . Thence to Brussels — the capital. What 
 boulevards, what parks, what palaces, what galleries, what cafés, and above 
 all what restaurants ! The symmetry and the elegance of the civic organism ! 
 England held nothing like it. I had imagined nothing like it. "A con- 
 tinental capital !" I felt as though I could live in Brussels for ever. . . . 
 Thence to Malines, of the unequalled carillon. Thence to Antwerp, a kind 
 of complementary and utterly different sister-capital to Brussels. . . , 
 Thence southwards to Roulers with its industry, and the unique Ypres, 
 with its cloth-hall and its ramparts. . . . Thence to Namur, with the first 
 glimpse of the Meuse ! . . . . Thence to Dinant, with its cliffs and its 
 tower, and on to little Anseremme, where one could have a bed and four 
 meals and a bathe in the Meuse for four francs a day ! . . . The whole 
 country was a museum of architecture, art, and history. It was full of the 
 amenities of civilisation. Everywhere were parks and music. In each town 
 was an opera, and galleries containing masterpieces. 
 
 In twenty-four days — and nights — I saw it all, with a most ridiculous in- 
 expensiveness, and on the evening of the twenty-fourth day I embarked at 
 Ostend again. I hated to leave Belgium. The prospect of plain, unpoetic 
 England was offensive to me. But I had to go. And when I reached 
 London, strange to say, I began to perceive what a wonderful place London 
 was. Belgium has taught me to appreciate London. Moreover there was 
 a peculiar feel about London and England. It was the feel of the city to its 
 own citizen, and of the country to its native. 
 
 And now, what I imagine is the ultimate return, by Ostend, by Zeebrugge, 
 by Antwerp, and by the trains from the south, of exiled Belgians into 
 Belgium ! Their thrill will far outdo the thrill of the eager ingenuous 
 tourist. I imagine their gaze from the sea towards the whiteness of Ostend, 
 and from the Scheldt towards the steeples of Antwerp. They will pass 
 through emotions^at once tragic and triumphant, terrible and exquisite — 
 such as fate has accorded to no other people in the modern age. Confronted 
 by ruin and desolation, appalled by the immense task of reconstruction that 
 lies before them, saddened by the recollection of indescribable woe, im- 
 poverished and bereaved but not enfeebled, they will be heartened by the 
 obstinate courage which through every disaster has kept them a nation, and 
 by the living splendid hope of the future. Not into a museum will they 
 be entering, but into a house and an environment which their ancestors 
 and they themselves created, and of which they profoundly compre- 
 hend the secret significance, and which, however defaced and blackened, 
 they will slowly restore again to the full expression of the soul of a 
 nation. . . . 
 38 
 
And I seem to be already present at a great, unexampled, sacred occasion 
 of solemn rejoicing in Brussels, and to stand amid silent crowds on the 
 pavement of the Boulevard Anspach, while the young veterans of the Belgian 
 army go by, and the cannons, and the flags, and then the youthful King, 
 with his Queen, a crowned monarch who has earned a nation's affection 
 perhaps more nobly than a nation's affection ever was earned before. And 
 there is a vast deafening cheer, that shakes the tears out of the eyes. And 
 in every chastened and bursting heart lies like a miraculous solace the new- 
 proved conviction that righteousness prevails. ^ , 
 
 By SIR JOSEPH LARMOR 
 
 THE Belgian nation has sacrificed herself without measure, not only for the 
 sake of her own independence, but to assert the right of the States of Europe 
 each to pursue her own national development, free from the pressure of an 
 iron mould imposed by ruthless foreign domination. In the Middle Ages 
 Flanders was a centre of art and learning and industry, in a Renaissance 
 which vied with the revival in Italy. She has now enhanced her right to 
 the possession of her great monuments of the past by a new renown. The 
 burning light of her patriotism, now shining upon the world, has created a 
 new and unwavering faith in the nobility of her destiny, which the tragedy 
 of her present misfortunes will keep ever bright. We can look forward with 
 confidence to a renewed and transfigured Belgium, occupying in the future, 
 under her heroic dynasty, an honoured place in the family of the free nations 
 of Europe. . ^ 
 
 By MADELEINE LUCETTE RYLEY 
 
 To THE Victors belong the Spoils ! 
 
 The Victor true is he who conquers fear. 
 Who knows no time save now — no place hut here. 
 Who comits no cost — who only plays the game, 
 To him shall go the prize — Immortal Fame ! 
 
 To the Illustrious Ruler and his Gallant 
 Little Nation, whose heroism and bravery 
 are surely unparalleled in the whole oj 
 our World's History, I bow my head in 
 respectful homage. 
 
 ^A-iCocA^f^ 
 
By THE Rt. Hon. A. EONAR LAW 
 
 IN July of this year there was no part of the world more peaceful and 
 prosperous than the little country of Belgium. There the monuments of 
 ancient art, of learning and of piety stood out in bold relief in the midst 
 of an industrial development which was scarcely equalled, which was no- 
 where surpassed in any country in the world. 
 
 In a moment, almost without warning, this smiling garden of industry was 
 turned into a scene ot bitterest desolation, not by a convulsion of nature 
 but by the cruelty of man. In a struggle which was not sought by them, 
 which no forbearance or wisdom on the part of their rulers could have 
 averted, the Belgian people, by what they have done and by what they have 
 endured, have won for themselves immortal fame. 
 
 But for the unexpected and heroic resistance of the small Belgian Army, 
 the German hosts would have hurled themselves against the French Army 
 before it had been mobilised. Belgium averted a terrible disaster to us and 
 to our Allies, but at what a cost to herself ? She is for the moment a nation 
 without a fatherland ; but the soul of the nation is living still, is living in 
 her brave soldiers, is living in King Albert, who has shown to the modern 
 world what can be done by a Hero-King. 
 
 As a nation we long for a successful end to this terrible war, which is filling 
 with mourning so many of our homes, but it can never end till the wrongs 
 of Belgium have been avenged and expiated. 
 
 c 
 
 By ADMIRAL LORD CHARLES BERESFORD 
 
 THE conscience of the w^iole civilised world is shocked at the odious 
 barbarities perpetrated on the gallant Belgian nation by the ruthless, 
 cowardly, and savage action of Germany in her efforts to smash Belgium's 
 independence. 
 
 The Belgians have been fighting a battle for liberty, humanity, and civilisa- 
 tion ; they have also been fighting a battle for the French as well as the 
 British, and though thousands of her best have been killed and wounded, 
 and her civil population, including women and children, have been driven 
 from their homes and martyred in the cause of their country, her youth are 
 still fighting for justice and freedom. 
 
 When this wicked war is over, the first duty of the allies must be to enforce 
 every compensation that is possible from the brutal nation that has ravaged 
 Belgium. 
 
 Germany has scorned the laws of God and man ; her fiendish savageries 
 have proved that German militarism is a disgrace to humanity. 
 Sympathy, respect, and admiration for Belgium is universal and international 
 in the cruel wrongs she has suffered for the cause of liberty and the rights 
 of sm.ail States. n^ •- , m 
 
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By FLORA ANNIE STEEL 
 Sunrise 
 
 THE shells had been shrieking and screaming all day long ; but now that 
 the dusk had fallen they were silent. 
 
 So on this All Souls' night the moon could rise, still, silvery, serene over 
 the ruined village. And the cold, remote radiance softened the charred 
 glow of still burning rafters to cool glimmerings, and made the little trails 
 of smoke rising from them show like incense seeking the star-strewn sky. 
 Carven stones heaped high in weird shapeless piles showed where for count- 
 less generations the village church had stood ; and high amongst these 
 rose the stone Crucifixion let into the wall behind the altar, which a 
 generation of men, long since past and gone, had hewn out of a solid block. 
 So it stood still erect, a sorrowful figure to which those countless generations 
 of patient people had brought their hopes, their fears, their sins, their 
 successes, and their failures. 
 
 The altar itself was shattered, but the steps remained, and on them — seeking 
 the shelter of a high piled heap of debris from the tower — lay three figures. 
 One was crumpled up face downwards almost as it had first fallen. Another 
 with helpless loose-hanging arm sate limply on the top step. The third 
 had crawled to the very foot of the Cross and lay restfully its head upon 
 a splintered stone. 
 
 All was still as the grave. Then suddenly, waveringly, came a man's voice : 
 " It's a long, long way to Tipperary." 
 
 The chant ended in a sort of sob, as the seated figure on the top step rose 
 to its feet unsteadily. 
 
 " I seed 'im move," murmured the Englishman, " an' I 'oped he was a 
 deader." So he stood, looking down on the crumpled figure. " Must be 
 beastly oneasy," he continued. " Lordy ! ain't 'e like the bumbadeer arter 
 'e got one from Charpenteer." Then he paused ; so after a space looked 
 back and called out : 
 
 " Hi ! you there, Frenchy ! Wake up, Jacko, and give a h'arm with this 
 German bloke, there's a decent chap." 
 
 The man who rested his head on the splintered altar-stone sate up, showing 
 himself a long-limbed, broad-shouldered Breton, kindly but uncompre- 
 hending. The gestures of the other, however, were sufficient added to the 
 explanation : " 'E ain't comfy, see you, Jacko ! and 'e ain't got long t'er be 
 comfortable ; so let's 'eft 'im up." 
 
 Jean the Breton nodded at John the Englishman and half crawled, half 
 limped, down the steps to lend an aid. Together the two wounded men 
 dragged the third to more fitting rest, where on his back he could breathe 
 easier, for he was shot through the lungs ; but in the process the helmet 
 he had worn fell off and rolled, glinting and clanking, into the shadows. 
 
 'E mieuox comm' ça," remarked Jean the Breton approvingly in his 
 patois. 
 " Beastly unbecomin' things, 'elmets," said John the Englishman in his. 
 
 43 
 
But Johan the German only opened his blue eyes on his enemies and drew 
 
 in a long gasping breath. They none of them understood each other's 
 
 speech, but something older than the Tower of Babel had given them 
 
 comprehension and was to give them more. 
 
 For something else besides the helmet had fallen from its place in that 
 
 laborious journey up the altar steps. The wounded German had torn his 
 
 tunic open in his first agonised fight for breath and from it had slipped a 
 
 cheap locket attached to a cheap chain, and holding a cheap photograph 
 
 cheaply coloured — the photograph of a fair-haired baby. 
 
 " By gum ! Ain't it like my kid," muttered John the Englishman, and 
 
 from his khaki tunic he drew another cheap locket. 
 
 And Jean the Breton, not to be outdone, followed suit in his blue coatee. 
 
 So there in the still, silvery, serene moonlight showed three fair-haired, 
 
 blue-eyed baby faces, framed in tawdry pinchbeck ; but the faces were the 
 
 faces of immortality — the symbol of the race. 
 
 " Mon p'tit fils," murmured Jean the Breton fondly. " Mon p'tit Jean." 
 
 " Hello ! Jacky my boy," chirruped John the Englishman, trying to hide 
 
 the ache in his heart under a smile. 
 
 But Johan the German only rolled his head from side to side and his lips 
 
 moved as if he would have said " Vater." Perhaps he was thinking of his 
 
 country. Perhaps his dying ear had become more acute to the sounds that 
 
 matter, and he was forestalling the little wailing cry which after a space 
 
 rose fitfully among the ruins, " Faster ! Faster ! Faster ! Faster ! " 
 
 The cry of a child ! 
 
 Yes ! the wail of a sturdy little Flemish fellow of two, who came totteringly 
 
 over the scattered stones with his bare feet. He wore a quaint Httle night 
 
 garment ; so, in the hurry of flight, he must have been left behind asleep. 
 
 But now, awake, his insistent " Faster ! Faster ! Faster ! " was like the 
 
 cry of a plover luring danger from her nest. 
 
 In the next five minutes John the Englishman's wounded arm forgot itself, 
 
 and Jean the Breton's splintered knee and wrist secured solace, but Johan 
 
 the German's wistful eyes were all he could place at the service of the little 
 
 iad, until as the pitiful wailing would not cease, a trembling hand pointed 
 
 waveringiy to a haversack, and once again the unwritten unspoken word 
 
 brought comprehension. The little Flamand munching away contentedly 
 
 at a concentrated German sausage ration gave his name shyly with a smile 
 
 as " Jan — pi'ou' Jan." 
 
 " Mon p'tit gars — mon Jean," murmured the Breton ecstatically, and fell 
 
 to dreaming of a cottage among apple orchards. 
 
 " Kids is terrible similar ! " pronounced the Englishman with awe in his 
 
 voice, and fell to dreaming of a tenement-flat high up among the chimneys. 
 
 But the German's dazed mind could not get beyond a vague insistent 
 
 dream, and his blood-stained lips moved as if he would have said " Vater." 
 
 He was evidently going fast, and all things worth having in this hfe — love 
 
 and loyalty — were bound up in that word. 
 
 44 
 
Still with one final effort he pointed to the thick overcoat which they had 
 
 spread over him and motioned they should wrap the drowsy child in it. 
 
 They did not say him nay ; he was too far gone for that. 
 
 " But I ain't agoin' to disturb you, sonny," said John the Englishman 
 
 cheerfully. " There's room of a little un beside you — so creep in, Jackie." 
 
 " Ses prières ? " expostulated Jean the Breton ; he was a devout Catholic. 
 
 " N'oublies pas tes prières, mon p'tit Jean." 
 
 And the little fellow understanding the man's clasped hands murmured 
 
 something sleepily. No one understood the words, but their spirit — the 
 
 spirit of father and son — was in the hearts of the listeners. 
 
 And one of them saw further to that spirit than the others, gave a long gasp, 
 
 and lay still. 
 
 *' He's oft", pore chap," said John the Englishman, " but let be Creep 
 
 in, sonny — you'll both rest the better mayhap." 
 
 Jean the Breton looked at the dead face that lay so close to the child's and 
 
 crossed himself as he murmured the dimittance prayer which sends a soul 
 
 to find freedom. 
 
 After that the moon, still, silvery, serene, shone on a silent group about the 
 
 feet of the Christ with its eternal message of forgiveness, of reconciliation, 
 
 of immortal fatherhood and sonship. 
 
 So the silent night passed, till in the east the blood-red glow of dawn 
 
 heralded another dreadful day, and incarnadined the crown of thorns upon 
 
 the Sorrowful Brow. 
 
 And almost with the glow came the shriek, the scream of the first shell 
 
 fired by the advancing Germans as a precaution lest the village should have 
 
 been reoccupied during the night. 
 
 It did not disturb the sleepers. The ears of one were deaf to strife for ever, 
 
 and the child, in childhood's deep dreamless sleep, slept on. The two 
 
 others lying either side, used to long days and nights of such hellish devilish 
 
 tumult, only stirred, and, half conscious, threw each a protecting arm across 
 
 the dead man and the child. 
 
 The swift crackle passed, the sharp resounding explosion was over ere it 
 
 could be realised, sending out a fierce rain of scattering shrapnel. 
 
 After that there was no sound save the soft breathing of little Jan as he lay 
 
 secure beneath dead protecting arms, his head pillowed on his dead enemy's 
 
 heart. 
 
 And as the child slept the sun rose and turned the incarnadined crown of 
 
 thorns upon the bowed head of the Son of Man into a crown of gold. 
 
 45 
 
By VISCOUNT BRYCE 
 
 ALL honour to the Belgian King and the Belgian People. No king and 
 no nation, not even the oldest and the strongest nation, has shown more 
 dignity and gallantry than Belgium, which is among the youngest and the 
 smallest in area of European States. 
 
 When Belgium was erected into a kingdom in 1832, many doubted whether 
 a real nation could be formed by linking together the Flemish element and 
 the Walloon element, races that had different characteristics and spoke 
 different languages. But Belgium has grown to be a truly united nation, 
 consolidated by a fervent patriotism. She has produced many men of 
 literary and artistic genius, poets and jurists and scholars and men of science, 
 painters who have renewed the great traditions of Rubens and Vandyck. 
 The principles of constitutional liberty have taken root and flourished among 
 her citizens, and her annals have been adorned by not a few capable and high- 
 minded statesmen. Her peasantry, laborious and resourceful, have brought 
 her soil to a wonderful pitch of productiveness, while a skill and enterprise 
 have made some among her manufacturing industries second to none in 
 Europe. Peace and prosperity have reigned such as these regions had not 
 seen since the days of Duke Philip the Good, nearly five centuries ago. 
 All this peace and prosperity have been suddenly and ruthlessly torn from 
 her. Her fields have been laid waste, her cities burned. Treasures of Art 
 have been destroyed and the people have been reduced to poverty or driven 
 forth as helpless refugees. All this Belgium has suft'ered because she refused 
 to forfeit her independence and betray the pledge of neutrality she had given, 
 a pledge which was the very foundation of her independence. Confronted 
 by armies ten times their strength, her King and people risked everything 
 for Honour, and everything save Honour they have lost. But Honour is 
 the greatest thing. It has won for them the admiration of the world. It 
 will be a glorious memory to them and their children when freedom and 
 independence, peace and prosperity, have been restored, as they must be, 
 and we trust soon will be, restored. 
 
 We in Britain salute the gallant King and the gallant Army which still fights 
 heroically on, reduced to less than one-third of its strength. We sorrow 
 at their sufferings. We will not rest till those sufferings are ended and the 
 invader has been expelled. And we thank them for the example they have set 
 to all Europe and to the generations yet to come. History records no finer 
 example since Thermopylae of untarnished fidelity and undaunted courage. 
 
 /^'ly^ 
 
 By HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ 
 
 By Telegraph 
 
 LES malheurs passent, la gloire reste et immortalise. Honneur à l'héroïque 
 
 nation et à son héroïque Souverain. 
 
 46 
 
By PAUL HERVIEU 
 IL était, une fois, un Roi et une Reine . . . 
 
 Oui, ce sera le conte des fées le plus émouvant qui se puisse écrire, et le 
 plus édifiant, que la très véridique histoire de S. M. le Roi Albert I" et de 
 S. M. la Reine Elisabeth ! 
 
 Cette noble quiétude dans le dévouement aux tâches quotidiennes, cette 
 pureté familiale dans laquelle ils vivaient . . . 
 
 Tout à coup, l'intervention du Diable, avec ses offres et ses menaces . . . 
 Les souverains et le Peuple de Belgique communiant aussitôt dans le senti- 
 ment de l'honneur et de l'héroïsme. 
 
 L'invasion scélérate, et l'innombrable légion d'esprits infernaux qui crachent 
 le soufre, déversent les trombes de fer, font pleuvoir le feu ; et les demeures 
 des cités se transformant en colonnes tronquées de cimetières ; et des 
 innocents devenus partout des suppHciés ; et le Roi et la Reine qui n'ont 
 plus pour royaume qu'une dune sur le rivage et autour d'eux les restes 
 vaillants de leur armée ; 
 
 Enfin ! Enfin ! Ce revirement du sort que souhaite ardemment toute 
 l'humanité digne de ce nom, et que l'autre même sent aujourd'hui s'ap- 
 procher d'une marche sure. 
 
 A cet endroit du conte, à ce passage de haute légende, oh ! comme les mains 
 des enfants battront, dans leur amour inné de la justice ! Et le visage des 
 honnêtes parents rira d'approbation et de conscience satisfaite. 
 Et ceux qui, dans l'avenir, mettront, a contempler les Armes royales, la 
 pieuse admiration qui siéra, y verront apparaître une Rose triomphante, 
 accompagnant le Lion de Belgique, pour l'immortelle union de S.M. la 
 Reine Elisabeth dans la gloire de S.M. le Roi Albert I". n . j, 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 
 Once upon a time there lived a King and a Queen . . . King and Queen zvith their kingdom reduced to a 
 
 Indeed, it would be the most touching and edifying sandhill on the shore, and the remnant of their laliant 
 
 fairy-tale imaginable, this true story of tl.M. army round them. 
 
 Albert I and H.M. Queen Elisabeth ! And at last, at last ! That turn of the tide which all 
 
 It would tell of their quiet and tioble devotion io their humanity worthy of the name desires so ardently, 
 
 daily tasks, of the purity of their happy family and which even the baser sort now sees to be surely 
 
 life . . . approaching. 
 
 Suddenly, the Devil would intervene, with his threats At this point in the story, at this page of the legendary 
 
 and his offers . . . iale, how the children would clap their hands, with 
 
 Then we should hear of the Sovereigns and the people all that love of justice innate in children, and how the 
 
 of Belgium agreeing at once in their sense of honour faces of worthy parents would beam loith the approval 
 
 and heroism. of satisfied consciences ! 
 
 Then the dastardly invasion, and the innumerable And in the future, those who contemplate the. Royal 
 
 host of infernal spirits breathing out sulphur, belching Arms with the pious admiration due to than, will see 
 
 torrents of iron, and raining fire ; city dwellings a blooming Rose side bv side tvith the Lion of Belgium, 
 
 transformed into the shattered columns of cemeteries ; typifying the immortal share of H.M. Queen Elisabeth 
 
 innocent creatures tortured and victimised ; and the in the glory of H.M. Albert I. 
 
 47 
 
By ADMIRAL LORD FISHER OF KILVERSTONE 
 
 " THE Lord God of recompences shall surely requite." 
 
 Jeremiah, chap. 51, verse 56. 
 " One poor girl of nineteen was found stripped, outraged and dead." 
 
 Special Correspondent of The Times (Oct. 25, 1914). 
 
 By VISCOUNT GLADSTONE 
 
 THE best tribute to King Albert and his gallant Belgians from all to whom 
 opportunity falls, lies in personal effort and service to reHeve multitudes of 
 men, women, and children who are suffering because of Belgium's heroic 
 sacrifice for Liberty and International Justice. 
 
 By NORMAN ANGELL 
 
 BELGIUM has done this great service for all of us : she has shown how 
 great a little country may be and how little a great one may become. She 
 has shown that the real nobility of patriotism is not a matter of wide territory 
 and political power and does not need to be nourished by these things ; 
 while the action of Germany towards Belgium has shown that power and 
 size may well destroy all that makes patriotism worth while. 
 
 nvVî^M>^ CL.ceyC^ 
 
 By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX 
 Belgium 
 
 Ruined ? Destroyed ? Ah no ; though blood in rivers ran 
 Dozen all her ancient streets ; tJiough treasures manifold 
 Love-wrought, time-melloived, and beyond the price of gold 
 
 Are lost, yet Belgimns star shines still in God's vast plan. 
 
 Rarely have kings been great, since kingdoms first began ; 
 
 Rarely have great kings been great men, ichen all was told. 
 
 But, by the lighted torch in mailed hands, behold 
 Immortal Belgium's inmiortal king, and man. 
 
 48 
 
By ARISTIDE SARTORIO 
 
 UNO scrittore tedesco ha reso noto, come i soldati dell' impero germanico 
 portino nello zaino Faust e Zaratustra. Il bagaglio è significativo, perché 
 Mephistofeles é il nonno di Zaratustra e questi derivò dall' avo quell' indole 
 filosofica, sprone ad ogni violenza e che, fatta scuola in Germania, sappiamo 
 rinsaldi ora così la disciplina della soldatesca imperiale. 
 Evidentemente i soldati non si trovano sui campi di battaglia per fare un 
 corso di letteratura, e si inspireranno ai concetti morali dei " Vade mecum," 
 anziché a quelle bellezze estetiche che rendono immortali quei capolavori e, 
 come lo provano duramente oggi i belgi, lo proveremmo noi italiani, qualora 
 gì' imperi centrali uscissero vittoriosi dalla lotta immane ; essi costringereb- 
 bero l'Italia al vassallaggio ed il nostro paese sarebbe, con tutta probabilità, 
 annientato, derubato, distrutto. Liberati dall' incubo dell' alleanza, noi 
 italiani abbiamo assistito sdegnati allo strazio del Belgio, paese neutrale, 
 paese d'arte, di coltura e d'industria, con il quale fin dalla rinascenza avemmo 
 contatti spirituali, e che, come noi, guadagnò la sua indipendenza a prezzo 
 di enormi sacrifici. 
 
 Ma le ossa di Friedrich Nietzsche, che si corruccio vendendo la Germania 
 addormentata in un sogno pacifista, dovevano esultare nella tomba, scavata 
 poco lontano da quella dell' olimpico Goethe ; arrivò l'epoca della violenza 
 conquistatrice ; ora noi sappiamo come la civiltà tedesca cammini oltre i 
 confini con Mephistopheles e Zaratustra animatori. E così, come Mephis- 
 topheles, al soldo dell' imperatore beniamino di Dio, inventava le sorpren- 
 denti armi guerresche, il genio tedesco appresta quei terribili ordigni di 
 guerra contro i quali né le fortezze, né le città, né i monumenti, né le scuole 
 resisteranno più. E così, come Faust fattosi sognatore umanitario, attendeva 
 l'investitura delle terre guadagnate con l'aiuto diabolico, 94 professori 
 tedeschi proclamano al mondo civile il buon diritto della conquista imperiale, 
 sulla quale riverserebbero il superfluo della loro coltura. 
 Mephistopheles, dice il poema, bruciò la casa, la chiesa ed il giardino di due 
 poveri vecchi, i quali infastidivano l'espandersi del felice regno di Faust. I due 
 vecchi, insieme ad un ospite, morirono arrostiti, quali neutri di numero tre. 
 Ma sarebbe desiderabile sapere il giudizio del vecchio buon Dio su quegli 
 aviatori che, sorvolando le città, vi uccidono donne, vecchi e fanciulli, 
 perchè il caso non fu contemplato né da Mephistopheles, né da Zaratustra. 
 Faust li deve vedere dal paradiso. Il dottore, in procinto di morire, si 
 pentì ; ascese ai piedi del trono di Maria Vergine, e lì trovò quella preclara 
 intelligenza di Gretchen, che nel frattempo aveva uccisa la madre, soffocato 
 il figlio dell' amore ed era morta pentita. 
 
 Esaltati da queste edificanti letture, i soldati tedeschi devono considerarsi 
 quali arcangeli, contro quelle Fiandre cattoliche, che elaborarono la loro 
 morale, contemplando la virtù nelle immagini sante dell' arte latina. 
 Ma sia benedotto e glorificato il tuo sacrificato, o Belgio eroico, né spento, 
 né vinto ! Ti sei levato contro l'imperialismo barbaro invadente nel nome 
 della scienza e della coltura ; Salve tu nei secoli o Belgio eroico ! 
 
 49 
 
Qualche cosa di bestiale minaccia la gloria del mondo : Che il tuo sangue 
 rinsaldi, come un battesimo, la nostro fede nella civiltà latina, e ci sospinga 
 contro il torpido ed oscuro impero, che pare scaturito dalle oscure caligini 
 dell' Asia primordiale o del medio evo europeo ! 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 A German zcriter has informed us that the soldiers 
 of the Empire carry Faust and Zarathustra in their 
 knapsacks. These possessions are significant, for 
 Mephistopheles was the grandfather of Zarathustra, 
 and the latter iiihcrited from his ancestor that philo- 
 sophical temper ivhich incites to every kind of ziolence. 
 It has created a school in Germany, and as we know, 
 is now a factor in the discipline of the Imperial 
 soldiery. 
 
 It is obvious that soldiers do not come to the battle- 
 field to take a course of literature ; they find in- 
 spiration in the moral axioms of their vade mecum 
 rather than in the (esthetic beauties that make these 
 masterpieces immortal. The Belgians have had dire 
 proof of this, and we Italians zcould have a like experi- 
 ence, if the central European Empires should issue 
 victorious from the ruthless conflict. Italy would 
 become their vassal, and in all probability our country 
 would be plundered, ravaged, and annihilated . De- 
 livered from the incubus of the alliance, we Italians 
 have looked on with indignation at the torture of 
 Belgium, a neutral country, a land of art, of culture and 
 of industry, with which ice have had spiritual relations 
 since the period of the Renaissaiice, a land which like 
 our 07cn won her independence by immense sacrifices. 
 But the bones of Friedrich Nietzsche, who raged at 
 the sight of a Germany simk in pacifist slumber, 
 must e.xult in the grave where they lie not far from 
 those of the Olympian Goethe ; the epoch of con- 
 quering violence has begun ; we knoiv now that 
 German culture, inspired by Mephistopheles and 
 Zarathustra, regards no boundaries ; thus, as Mephis- 
 topheles, at the behest of the Emperor, that Benjamin 
 of the Almighty, invented astounding military weapons, 
 so the Teutonic genius has prepared those terrible 
 engines of war which neither fortresses, cities, public 
 buildings, nor schools can withstand. And just as 
 
 rto 
 
 Faust in the guise of a humanitarian dreamer, awaited 
 the possession of territories acquired by diabolical aid, 
 so 94 Germati professors proclaim to the civilised 
 world the equity of Imperial conquest, on the victims 
 of which they propose to pour out the superfluity of 
 their culture. 
 
 Mephistopheles, says the poem, burnt the church, 
 the house, and the garden of two poor old people, 
 which obstructed the expansion of Faust's happy 
 kingdom. The two old people, together with a guest, 
 were roasted alive {three neutrab !) 
 But it'would be well to know the judgment of the God 
 of Ages upon those aviators, who, flying over cities, 
 murder women, old men, and children, for such a case 
 was not dealt with either by Mephistopheles or 
 Zarathustra. Faust must behold them from his place 
 in Paradise. The doctor repented at the approach 
 of death ; ascending to the steps of the Virgin's 
 throne, he found there the noble intelligence of 
 Gretchcn, zdw in the meantime had killed her mother, 
 strangled her child, and died repentant. 
 Exalted by this edifying reading, what archangels 
 the German soldiers must consider themselves com- 
 pared with those Catholic Flemings, tvho have 
 elaborated their morality, contemplating virtue in 
 the sacred images of Latin art ! Blessed and glorified 
 be thy sacrifice, heroic Belgium, neither quenched 
 nor vanquished ! Thou didst rise against Imperial 
 barbarism, invading thee in the name of science and 
 culture. Hail to thee throughout the ages, heroic 
 Belgium ! 
 
 Brutality menaces the glory of the world. May thy 
 blood, like baptismal waters, revive our faith in Latin 
 civilisation, and spur us on against the dark and 
 heavy Empire, that might well have issued from the 
 gloom of primordial Asia or the mediceval ages of 
 Europe. 
 
 By ALICE MEYNELL 
 The Heroic Language 
 
 When our now living languages are " dead," 
 Which in the classes shall be treasured ? 
 
 Which will the mastei's teach ? 
 Kepler's, and Shakespeare's, and thy word, thy phrase. 
 Thy grammar, thou heroic, for all days, 
 
 O little Flemish speech ! 
 50 
 
By SIDNEY LOW 
 
 " From the Body of this Death " 
 
 She is not dead ! Although the spoiler^s hand. 
 
 Lies heavy as death upon her ; though the smart 
 Of his accursed steel is at her heart, 
 
 And scarred upon her breast his shameful bra7id ; 
 
 Though yet the torches of the Vandal band, 
 
 Smoke on her ruined fields , her trampledi lanes. 
 Her ravaged homes and desolated fanes, 
 
 She is not dead bui dseping, that zvroîiged land. 
 
 O little natio?i, valorous and free. 
 
 Thou shalt o'erlive the terror and the pain ; 
 Call back thy scattered children unto thee. 
 
 Strong zoith the memory of their brothers slain, 
 And rise from out thy charnel-house , to be 
 
 Thine own immortal, radiant Self again. 
 
 SCj/^ ^^W\T— 
 
 By SIR ARTHUR PINERO 
 
 To Albert the Brave 
 
 ENGLAND honours and salutes you, Sir. Inspired by your true patriot- 
 ism, your splendid courage, your heroic soul, Little Belgium has become 
 for all time Great Belgium. Betrayed, outraged, exiled, you and your 
 people prove yourselves to be unconquerable. Such a spirit cannot be 
 quenched. Beside it, the flames lighted by your barbarous enemy show pale 
 and impotent. 
 
 Sir, the pangs of Belgium's rebirth are terrible ; but the shrieks of travail 
 reach the ears of a just Heaven. The hour is at hand when the cries of 
 agony shall die down ; when the rich meadows of your new-born kingdom 
 shall respond to the caress of the sun with a smile like the smile of an infant ; 
 when you shall lead the remnant of your indomitable army back in triumph 
 to witness the glory of your country's re-creation. Till that moment, 
 whatever her fortunes in other fields, England will know no rest, no con- 
 tentment, not one particle of gladness. 
 
 51 
 
By SIR WILLIAM CROOKES 
 
 ONE'S sympathy with and admiration of the gallant Belgian nation and 
 
 their valiant King arc only to be paralleled by the horror and detestation 
 
 one feels for their universal enemy — the modern Huns. 
 
 To express my feelings I would go to the Bible or to Shakespeare for an 
 
 apt quotation, and I do not think the following words from Isaiah (ch. 14), 
 
 can be improved on as a prophetic statement of the depth of the modern 
 
 catastrophe and of prospective comfort to the afflicted ruler : 
 
 In the day that the Lord shall give thee rest from thy sorrow, and from 
 thy trouble, and from the hard bondage wherein thou zvast made to serve, 
 thou shah take up this parable against the King of Babylon, and say. 
 How hath the oppressor ceased ! the golden exactress ceased ! The Lord 
 hath broken the staff of the wicked, and the sceptre of the rulers. He who 
 smote the peoples in wrath with a continual stroke, he that ruled the nations 
 in anger, is persecuted and none hindereth. 1 An/7 /P Û/- 
 
 By SIR CHARLES LUCAS 
 
 THE cause of Belgium is the cause of all who hold that nations have a right 
 to live. Terrible are the sufferings of this present time, but coming genera- 
 tions will stand up and call the land and the people blessed. 
 
 By G. W. PROTHERO 
 
 " MY tongue hath sworn ; unsworn remains my mind." 
 
 This is the motto Germany has chosen for herself ; it is not the motto of 
 
 Belgium — or of England. -. 
 
 By H.H. THE RANEE OF SARAWAK 
 
 WORDS cannot express the immense feeling of admiration and sympathy 
 I feel for the King and his people in this frightful calamity which has over- 
 taken them — a feeling that, outside Germany, must be paramount in the 
 hearts of men and women all over the world. a. 
 
 f^M^n 
 
 fi 
 
 By SIR WILFRID LAURIER 
 
 By Telegraph 
 
 YOUR own Introduction to King Albert's Book is a most eloquent 
 
 tribute to the heroism of the King and people of Belgium. No other words 
 
 are needed from me. My share will be to assist as far as in my power may 
 
 lie the diffusion of the book among the Canadian people. 
 
 52 
 
JUSTICE 
 
 By Solomon J. Solomon, R.A. 
 
By JOHN GALSWORTHY 
 
 Reveille 
 
 IN my dream I saw a fertile plain, rich with the hues of autumn. Tranquil 
 it was, and warm. Men and women, children, and the beasts worked and 
 played and wandered there in peace. Under the blue sky and the white 
 clouds low-hanging, great trees shaded the fields ; and from all the land there 
 rose a murmur as from bees clustering on the rose-coloured blossoms of 
 tall clover. And, in my dream, I roamed, looking into every face, the 
 faces of prosperity, broad and well-favoured — of people living in a land of 
 plenty, of people drinking of the joy of life, caring nothing for the morrow. 
 But I could not see their eyes, that seemed ever cast down, gazing at the 
 ground, watching the progress of their feet over the rich grass and the golden 
 leaves already fallen from the trees. The longer I walked among them 
 the more I wondered that never was I suffered to see the eyes of any, not 
 even of the Uttle children, not even of the beasts. It was as if ordinance 
 had gone forth that their eyes should be banded with invisibility. 
 While I mused on this, the sky began to darken. A muttering of distant 
 wdnds and waters came travelUng. The children stopped their play, the 
 beasts raised their heads ; men and women halted and cried to each other : 
 " The River — the River is rising ! If it floods, we are lost ! Our beasts 
 will drown ; we, even we, shall drown ! The River ! " And women stood 
 like things of stone, listening ; and men shook their fists at the black sky, 
 and at that travelling mutter of the winds and waters ; and the beasts sniffed 
 at the darkening air. 
 
 Then, clear, I heard a Voice call : " Brothers ! The dyke is breaking ! The 
 River comes ! Link arms, brothers ; with the dyke of out bodies we will 
 save our home ! Sisters, behind us, link arms ! Close m the crevices, 
 children ! The River ! " And all t|^at multitude, whom I had seen treading 
 quietly the grass and fallen leaves with prosperous feet, came hurrying, 
 their eyes no longer fixed on the rich plain, but lifted in trouble and defiance, 
 staring at that rushing blackness. And the Voice called : " Hasten, brothers ! 
 The dyke is broken. The River floods ! " 
 And they answered : " Brother, we come ! " 
 
 Thousands and thousands they pressed, shoulder to shoulder — men, women, 
 and children, and the beasts lying down behind, till the living dyke was 
 formed. And that blackness came on, nearer, nearer, till, like the whites 
 of glaring eyes, the wave crests glinted in the dark rushing flood. And the 
 sound of the raging waters was as a roar from a million harsh mouths. 
 But the Voice called : " Hold, brothers ! Hold ! " 
 And from the living dyke came answer : " Brother ! We hold ! " 
 Then the sky blackened to night. And the terrible dark water broke on 
 that dyke of life ; and from all the thin living wall rose such cry of struggle 
 as never was heard. 
 
 But above it ever the Voice called : " Hold ! My brave ones, hold ! " 
 And ever the answer came from those drowning mouths, of men and 
 
 D* 53 
 
women, of little children and the very beasts : " Brother ! We hold ! " 
 But the black flood rolled over and on. There, down in its dark tumult, 
 beneath its cruel tumult, I saw men still with arms linked ; women on their 
 knees, clinging to earth ; little children drifting — dead, all dead ; and the 
 beasts dead. And their eyes were still open facing that death. And above 
 them the savage water roared. But clear and high I heard the Voice call : 
 " Brothers ! Hold ! Death is not ! We live ! " And, fronting the edge 
 of the flooding waters, I saw the shades of those dead, with arms yet linked, 
 and heard them crying : " Brother ! We hold ! " . . . 
 Then came oblivion. 
 
 When once more I dreamed, it was light. The plain was free of darkness, 
 free of waters. The River, shrunk and muddied, flowed again within its 
 banks. And Dawn was breaking ; but the stars were still alight. 
 At first it seemed to me that only trees stood on that plain ; but then, in the 
 ground mist fast clearing, I saw the forms of men and women, children, 
 beasts ; and I moved among them, looking at their faces — not those broad 
 and prosperous faces whose eyes were banded with invisibility, but grave 
 with suff^ering, carved and strong. And all their eyes, lifted to the sky, 
 were shining. 
 
 While I stood thus watching, the sun rose, and heaven brightened to full 
 morning. And, amazed, I saw that the stars had not gone in, but shone 
 there in the blue, crystals of immortality. 
 
 And above the plain, clad in the hues of spring, I heard the Voice call : 
 " Brothers ! Behold ! The Stars are lit for ever ! " 
 
 By MILLICENT GARRETT FAWCETT 
 
 THE Belgian people have given the world an example of heroic courage 
 and self-devotion which will rank in history with the great deeds of all time. 
 Let no one say that Belgium, devastated and martyred as she is, has ceased 
 to exist. Her nationality is stronger, her vitality is more intense than it has 
 ever been. Every Belgian, man, woman, and child, bears himself proudly 
 to-day because of his nationality. 
 
 Unto each man his handiwork, unto each his crown 
 
 The just Fate gives : 
 Whoso takes the world's life on him, and his own lays down 
 
 He, dying so, lives. 
 
 It should be the very first concern of the Allies at the end of the war to see 
 that Belgium remains a free and independent nation. 
 
 kiliuuA^cinnu4^tUÀ/uM^ 
 
 54 
 
By THE Rt. Hon. EARL ROBERTS OF KANDAHAR 
 
 MY admiration for the part Belgium has played in the war now being waged 
 against aggression, dishonourable contempt of Treaty obligations, falsehood, 
 and injustice, knows no bounds. I feel most strongly that Great Britain 
 owes Belgium a deep debt of gratitude which it will be difficult to repay. 
 Inspired by the noble example of their King, the Belgians arrested the first 
 onslaught of the Germans, and thus gave us time to ward off the punishment 
 we so richly deserve for our neglect to prepare to defend our own interests. 
 Little Belgium has shown to the great nations of the earth that a brave and 
 united people, daring everything and prepared to suffer anything in the 
 sacred cause of liberty, can resist successfully overwhelming numbers for 
 a long time, and materially help towards victory in the end. In the terrible 
 struggle still raging, to the Belgians must be awarded the palm for freely 
 and fearlessly offering themselves as the first bulwark against the invading 
 hordes of Germany. Glorious has been their stand, and priceless the time 
 and the advantage gained thereby. No acknowledgment of their splendid 
 example can be too liberal. No admiration too lavish, no compensation for 
 the loss and misery they have endured, too generous. 
 
 They have fought heroically for a sacred principle against frightful odds. 
 They have suffered up to the limit of human endurance. God grant that 
 there may be yet in store for them a bright and prosperous future, and a 
 permanent place in the van of Civilisation and Freedom. ^ 
 
 By MAURICE HEWLETT 
 From England 
 
 O MEN of mickle heart and little speech. 
 Slow, stubborn countrymen of heath and plain, 
 Now have ye shown these insolent again 
 That which to Ccesar's legions ye could teach, 
 That slow-provok'd is long-provok'd. May each 
 Crass Ccesar learn this of the Keltic grain, 
 Until at last they reckon it in vain 
 To browbeat us who hold the Western reach. 
 For even as you are, we are, ill to rouse. 
 Rooted in Custom, Order, Church, attd King ; 
 And as you fight for their sake, so shall we. 
 Doggedly inch by inch, and house by house ; 
 Seeing for us too there's a dearer thing 
 Than la?id or blood — and that thing LIBERTY, /f/t/fr r' cC ^^ /r// 
 
 55 
 
By SIR OLIVER LODGE 
 
 THE world is the richer for the experience of the past few months, and 
 Belgium has inscribed its name on an eternal roll of honour — the roll of 
 those who have died in holding a pass against overwhelming odds. 
 Humanity blesses the heroic struggle for freedomi of the Belgian nation ; 
 for without their aid the face of Europe would have been changed past 
 redemption, and the Earth might have been subject to a brutal and intolerable 
 dominance. We have witnessed in our own generation one of the classical 
 contests of the world ; and the tale will go down to remote posterity — a 
 tale of deep infamy and lofty honour — relating how at this time the powers 
 of evil were frustrated, and how the holiest cause emerged, stricken but 
 victorious, — triumphing as always through grievous pain. 
 
 5y ^CLAUDE MONET 
 
 TRES honoré de l'occasion qui m'est offerte, de pouvoir crier toute mon 
 
 admiration à l'héroïque Belgique, et d'adresser très respectueusement la 
 
 même admiration au noble et vaillant roi de la nation Belge. 
 
 Vive la Belgique ! Vive les Alliés ! Vive la France ! 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 I feel myself greatly honoured by the opportunity 
 
 given me to express all my admiration of heroic 
 
 Belgiuin, and to offer a like admiration to the noble 
 
 ■and valiant King of the Belgians. 
 
 Long live Belgium ! Loiig live the Allies ! Long 
 
 live France ! 
 
 ^/^a^*tP< ^L€;7i f/^ 
 
 By SIR JAMES CRICHTON-BROWNE 
 Belgium 
 
 BELGIUM, a stripling Knight in the shining armour of Truth and with 
 the flashing blade of Right, withstood the first fierce onslaught of the mon- 
 strous and fire-belching Dragon that has grown up in Central Europe and 
 uncoiled itself to devour the world. Scorched, wounded, trodden on, the 
 stripling has never blanched nor quailed but has given pause to the Dragon 
 and time to the strong men to awake from slumber in which, but for him, 
 they might have been smitten down. When, amidst the execrations of 
 mankind, the Dragon is driven back to his lair and chained there for a 
 thousand years, then, for all that time, will women, with tears in their eyes, 
 tell their children of the stripling's agony and men with stiffened sinews 
 recall his valiant deeds. 
 
 Laud and homage to Belgium ! bravest of the brave, lealest of the leal, and 
 loving care and succour too, that healing and solace may come to him. 
 
 • "" 9 
 
 56 
 
By EDMUND GOSSE 
 
 The Belgian Poets 
 
 ONE by one, like the apparitions that rose and pointed at Macbeth, the 
 arts and sciences, the amenities and the pieties of Belgium defile in a blood- 
 boltered line, and accuse their murderer of foul and treacherous offences. 
 To a single phantom I would speak to-day. While others call for vengeance 
 on Germany for other wickedness, I would speak in anger and pity of a 
 murdered literature. Incredible as it sounds, a literature, the articulate 
 imagination of a people, may be destroyed. After the battle of the White 
 Mountain, the flourishing and genial literature of Bohemia was annihilated 
 by the Austrians, and it lay in ashes for one hundred and fifty years. Such, 
 if Germany had her brutal will, would be the fate of poetry and prose in 
 the Low Countries to-day, and although the inevitable hour of reckoning 
 and restitution cannot for ever be delayed, at the present moment her 
 enemies have succeeded in silencing the written voice of Belgium, If they 
 have not silenced it, at least they have dispersed it on the wings of the wind. 
 It has no longer an abiding-place within its own borders ; it sounds, so far 
 as it still sounds at all, in the piteous murmurs of an exile. 
 Modern literature in Belgium is a creation of our own times. It dates from 
 1880, when a generation of young men started it under the leadership of a 
 youth who lived but nine years more to witness the progress of his work, 
 Max Waller, whose name will always demand the honour due to precursors. 
 Waller founded a review. La Jeune Belgique, in which his most brilliant 
 contemporaries, tired of the nullity of the intellectual life of their forbears, 
 developed ideas and forms of expression which translated for the first time 
 the peculiar emotions and graces of the Flemish temperament. They 
 chose the French language for their expression, and they all were in sym- 
 pathy with the Latin genius, although they were careful never to denationa- 
 lise themselves, and never to abandon the venement or mystical attributes 
 proper to the country of their birth. In less than thirty-five years, Belgium 
 has placed herself in the forefront of the creative literary nations of Europe. 
 This is not the place, nor mine the hand, to analyse or describe the achieve- 
 ments of Belgian literature. But it is manifest to every one that it is in 
 poetry that its success has been most eminent. In the few words which I am 
 privileged to say here, I will attempt no more than to bend in aftection 
 and homage towards our admirable and stricken brethren, the poets of 
 Belgium. Two of them, through a merciful Providence, have been spared 
 by an early death from drinking the bitter cup. We name in honour the 
 harbinger of the brilliant company, the ecstatic Charles van Leerberghe, 
 whose pen was dipped in moonlit dew, whose ethereal genius translated 
 into verse all that was most delicately in harmony with the spirit 
 of the old Flemish illuminators, whose pictures of Paradise seem painted 
 by an inspired monk on the vellum fly-leaves of a missal. We name 
 Georges Rodenbach, in whom the melancholy of Flanders, above all the 
 grey beauty of Bruges, found so tender an interpreter. 
 
 57 
 
But chiefly to the living we proffer our reverent and indignant sympathy. 
 Driven from their homes, their books scattered, their manuscripts burned, 
 they are but as beautiful autumn leaves in the blast of the Teuton w^ar-gods. 
 We greet the noble Emile Verhaeren, the first of the living poets of Europe. 
 In him the religious intensity of Belgium has taken a different expression 
 from that of the mystics. He has not shrunk, in his abundant and various 
 yet eminently consistent productive work, from celebrating many sides of 
 the national character. He blows through bronze and he breathes through 
 silver, and if we would understand the life and soil of Belgium, toute la 
 Flandre, we must go to this inspired and multiform mind for our instruction. 
 Thirty-five years ago, three young men who were students at the Collège 
 Sainte-Barbe at Ghent, determined to devote their lives to the creation of 
 a poetical drama in Belgium ; they were Van Leerberghe, Le Roy, and 
 Maeterlinck. The whole world has submitted to the fascination of Maurice 
 Maeterlinck. A Parisian admirer unwisely introduced him as " the 
 Belgian Shakespeare." He is, on the contrary, the one and only Belgian 
 Maeterlinck. We greet with emotion other names, less universally recog- 
 nised. Brussels is the mother of André Fontainas, whose enchanted 
 gardens are like the backgrounds of Rubens' pictures. From Antwerp 
 Max Elskamp has brought his idylls of a peaceful Flanders. Let me not 
 forget that Liege has sent us the tender and tremulous Albert Mockel, 
 nor that Louvain, till the hour of her desecration, was proud of the ac- 
 complished talent of Albert Giraud. 
 
 If I name no more, it is due to ignorance or lack of space. Our protest 
 is not in favour of these great names alone, but of the whole intellectual 
 civilisation of Belgium, so flourishing and so vivid in the peace of a month 
 or two ago, now humiliated and trampled like an autumn rose under the 
 hoof of a bull. 
 
 By ANDREW CARNEGIE 
 
 ASSUREDLY the people of Belgium have shown themselves worthy 
 descendants of their ancestors whom Julius Caesar honoured thus : Omnium 
 fortissimi sunt Belgce. King Albert has proven himself possessed of courage, 
 which is one of the essentials of high character, which Farquhar thus 
 describes : 
 
 Courage the highest gift, which scorns to bend 
 
 To mean devices for a sordid end. 
 
 Courage — an independent spark from Heaven's bright throne, 
 
 By which the soul stands raised, triumphant, high, alone. 
 
By HENRI BERGSON 
 
 Le Daily Telegraph veut bien me demander mon sentiment sur la Belgique 
 et sur le Roi Albert. Je cherche en vain, je ne trouve pas de mots pour 
 exprimer mon admiration. Je m'incline en proie à une émotion profonde 
 et je salue respectueusement. 
 
 Un petit peuple s'est trouvé tout à coup en présence d'une des plus for- 
 midables armées de la terre. On lui demandait simplement la permission 
 de passer ; on lui rendrait, disait-on, son territoire intact ; on respecterait 
 son indépendance. L'eût-on fait ? Je ne sais, mais ce petit peuple était 
 libre de le croire. Et s'il eût déclaré qu'il cédait à la force, qu'il acceptait 
 l'inévitable, nous l'aurions plaint, nous n'aurions pas osé le blâmer. Mais 
 non ! il a résisté à ce qui paraissait irrésistible ; il a fait par avance le sacrifice 
 de tout ce qu'il avait et de tout ce qu'il était : ses villes et ses villages, sa 
 fortune et sa vie, il a tout donné à une idée, à la conception héroïque qu'il 
 s'était faite de l'honneur. Gloire à lui ! gloire à son roi ! 
 J'ai dit, j'ai enseigné pendant longtemps que l'histoire était une école 
 d'immoralité. Je ne le dirai plus, après l'exemple que la Belgique vient 
 de donner au monde. Un acte comme celui-là rachète les plus grandes 
 vilenies de l'humanité. Il fait qu'on se sent plus fier d'être homme. 
 Sera-t-il permis à un professeur de philosophie d'ajouter qu'on se sentira 
 plus fier, désormais, d'être philosophe ? Le roi Albert s'est adonné aux 
 études philosophiques. Leur doit-il quelque chose de sa force d'âme et 
 de son généreux idéalisme ? Je le voudrais, car la philosophie recueillirait 
 alors quelque chose de sa gloire. Deux fois, au cours de l'histoire, elle a 
 brillé sur un trône ; et, les deux fois, elle aura été associée à la plus haute 
 vertu. Elle inspira jadis le stoïcisme de Marc Aurèle. Elle sourit aujour- 
 d'hui avec amour à l'héroïsme simple et sublime du Roi Albert. 
 
 TRANSLATION by J. S. C. 
 
 The Daily Telegraph has been pleased to ask of me done for honour. Glory to her ! Glory to her king ! 
 
 to say what I feel about Belgium and King Albert. I I have said and I haze taught for long that history 
 
 have searched in vain to find words adequate for express- was a school of immorality. I shall say so no more, 
 
 ing my admiration : J can only bow my head, a prey after the example that Belgium has just given to the 
 
 to profound emotion, and offer a respectful homage, world. A deed like this redeems the worst meannesses 
 
 A small nation found herself suddenly confronted by of mankind. It makes one feel more proud of being 
 
 one of the most formidable armies in the world. They a man. 
 
 asked of her merely permission to pass through ; they May it be permitted to a professor of philosophy to 
 
 would restore to her, so they said, her territory add that it makes one feel more proud henceforth of 
 
 untouched ; they would respect her independence, being a philosopher ? King Albert has followed 
 
 Would they have done so ? I know not, but the small philosophical studies. Is it to them that he owes 
 
 nation was free to believe them. And if she had something of his strength of soul and his noble idealism ? 
 
 declared that she yielded to force and accepted the I could wish so, for philosophy would then share in 
 
 inevitable, we might have pitied but tve should not his glory. Twice in the course of history has philo- 
 
 have dared to blame. Far otherwise ! She has sophy shone from a throne, and on both occasions it 
 
 resisted what seemed irresistible ; she has sacrificed will have been associated with the highest virtue. 
 
 at once all that she had, all that she was : her towns In ancient times philosophy inspired the stoicism of 
 
 and her villages, her wealth and her life, she has Marcus Aurelius. It smiles lovingly to-day on the 
 
 given all for an idea, for the heroic belief that it was simple and sublime heroism of King Albert. 
 
 59 
 
HAIL! 
 
 A HYMN TO BELGIUM 
 
 POEM BY 
 
 JOHN GALSWORTHY 
 
 MUSIC BY 
 
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 60 
 
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 61 
 
By EDEN PHILLPOTTS 
 To Belgium 
 
 Champion of human honour, let us lave 
 
 Your jeet and bind your wounds on bended knee. 
 Though coward hands have nailed you to the tree 
 
 And si I ed your innocent blood and dug your grave. 
 
 Rejoice and live ! Your oriflamme shall wave 
 While man has power to perish and be free — 
 A golden flame oj holiest Liberty, 
 
 Proud as the dawn and as the sunset brave. 
 
 Belgium, where dwelleth reverence for right 
 
 Enthroned above all ideals ; zvhere your fate 
 
 And your supernal patience and your might 
 Most sacred grow in human estimate, 
 
 You shine a star above this stormy night. 
 
 By MARY CHOLMONDELEY 
 
 POLYDORE IN ENGLAND 
 
 WHEN Polydore came to stay with us he did not come alone. He was 
 accompanied by Nestor Maria and René and Achille and poor Jan, who was 
 not a soldier at all, but had been wounded while lending a hand in the 
 trenches. 
 
 But somehow the others only formed a background to Polydore. Polydore 
 invariably met the eye first, from the moment when a jaded Red Cross 
 official handed him and his companions over to us at a roadside station. 
 It was Polydore who advanced to meet us, the others making a little bunch 
 behind him. Polydore, with his dusky complexion and round, grey, im- 
 passive, unwinking eyes, amazed at nothing, at once constituted himself as 
 spokesman of the party, interpreter and expert on matters of etiquette. 
 Possibly he may have felt that this position was his due as he was the only 
 one of the contingent in full Belgian uniform. Dark blue coat, wide light 
 blue trousers, and peaked cap. Nestor Maria and Achille wore English 
 sweaters with their blue trousers. Jan, of course, had no uniform, only a 
 weird English cheap suit rather too tight in the waist. None of them except 
 Polydore had a peaked cap. But all five were wound up in enormous 
 woollen comforters. 
 
 62 
 
All five had been seriously wounded, and had come to us to recruit after 
 
 being discharged from the hospital at E . But though René and Achille 
 
 were lame they were in the best of spirits, as were Nestor Maria and Polydore 
 himself, though still somewhat pallid and worn-looking. Only Jan never 
 smiled and hardly spoke a word. He had no news of his old mother, last 
 heard of at Ostend. 
 
 Our guests had brought no luggage with them, except a packet of English 
 picture post cards presented to Polydore in hospital, and one pipe among 
 the five. 
 
 They obeyed Polydore's directions implicitly, why, I know not. When 
 they retired to their carefully tucked-up beds, he made them all creep into 
 them from the top, without opening them at the side. This cannot have 
 been quite easy for René and Achille with their " bad " legs, but they 
 accomplished it nevertheless. After two days, Polydore courteously in- 
 quired how much longer they would have to drink our terrible English 
 medicine with their breakfasts. This was the strong tea we had given them. 
 Cofi^ee was substituted for it, and smiles wreathed every face. Even Jan 
 said a word or two in Flemish which sounded like approval. 
 The only thing in our establishment which surprised even Polydore was 
 the mowing machine on the lawn. That amazed them all, and they were 
 never tired of watching it. They walked round the garden with us, at least 
 Polydore did, while the others followed at his heels, while Polydore admired 
 the roses d'Egypte and the gueules de lion * still flowering in the autumn beds. 
 They were all politeness itself, but I think they might have become rather 
 bored with English country life if it had not been for Private Dawkins of 
 the West Lowshires. Dawkins was also just out of hospital and was re- 
 cruiting at his mother's cottage in the village, and he walked up, erect and 
 soldier-like in his khaki, to call on his allies. A difl^erence of language 
 presented no difficulties. Immediate and agreeable intercourse was estab- 
 lished and presently Dawkins and Polydore set out together, of course 
 followed by the others ; the English soldier looking very slim in his khaki 
 puttees compared with the low, broad, sturdy, blue-trousered figures of his 
 companions in arms. 
 
 Dawkins took his comrades to call on every cottage in the village, and 
 introduced them to the entire circle of his acquaintance, including his 
 mother. Mrs. Dawkins, I found afterwards, was much impressed by 
 Polydore's ignorance. 
 
 " The pore critter," she told me, " actually thought the clothes-line was a 
 telephone. But lor, mum, I soon made him understand. I brought out a 
 kitchen rubber and a peg, and made him fasten it on the wire, just to teach 
 him. He's sharp enough, is Polly Dor, and such a silly name for a man." 
 As he grew to know us better, Polydore told us many tales of the fighting 
 in Belgium, the others sitting round, and joining in like a chorus. With a 
 perfectly impassive face he recounted how on one occasion when the dykes 
 
 * Mignonette and Snapdragon. 
 
 63 
 
were opened, the Germans, after losing all their guns, had been forced to 
 seek refuge in the trees, where he and René had assisted in capturing whole 
 batches of them, sitting in strings in the branches like enormous barn-door 
 fowls. 
 
 But he and his comrades recounted other incidents too ghastly to be written 
 here. He had seen — Nestor Maria had seeti — Achille had seen — the dusky, 
 impassive faces darkened suddenly. Hands were clenched, grey eyes 
 blazed. We had to draw them back to less grievous topics and make 
 Polydore describe to us once more the contemptible fire of the German 
 infantry. We were shown exactly how the Germans fired from the hip, 
 with no effect at all. And then Polydore waved René forward and made 
 him stand in front of us, expanding his chest, while he laid his hand on the 
 second button of Rene's tattered blue coat, and explained to us that when 
 a Belgian soldier fires at the enemy he always hits him exactly there, on the 
 chest — ahoays. 
 
 Our Belgian soldiers did not stay many weeks with us. They thrived 
 exceedingly, and presently their country called them. Dawkins was sent 
 for the same day. And the last I saw of Polydore was leaning out of a 
 third-class railway carriage window with Dawkins, waving his peaked cap 
 to us, with the others in a little bunch behind him. We had made search- 
 ing inquiries before they left, and found that Jan's mother was safe at 
 Alexandra Palace, where she had arrived clutching five coffee-pots as her 
 entire luggage. 
 
 So good-bye Polydore and Nestor Maria and Achille and René and Jan. 
 And may the world go well with you ! 
 
 By SIR VALENTINE CHIROL 
 
 IT is a privilege to join in any tribute to King Albert and his people. King 
 Albert is the only sovereign whose royal title is not a territorial one. He 
 is styled King, not of Belgium but of the Belgians ; as if it had been pre- 
 ordained that though a ruthless conqueror might rob him for a time of his 
 kingdom, none should ever rob him of his kingship. Never perhaps more 
 proudly than to-day, when his Government has been compelled to seek 
 refuge on the hospitable soil of France and he himself, at the head of his 
 indomitable army, is fighting close to the French frontier for the last inch 
 of Belgian territory, has King Albert vindicated his right to a splendid 
 title : King of the Belgians, heroic head of an heroic people. 
 
 64 
 
'\i 
 
 '1 
 
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By PROFESSOR PAUL VINOGRADOFF 
 
 The Record of Belgium 
 
 IN addressing the King of an heroic nation it is natural to recall to mind 
 some striking memories of its past in which its temper and character have 
 been revealed in former ages. It seems clear to us, outsiders, that the life 
 of the Belgian people has been in many respects an exceptional manifestation 
 of energy and courage. As far as we can look back into dim antiquity, we 
 find the country occupied by Celtic tribes which, in the opinion of a great 
 expert, Cassar, were conspicuous for their political aptitude and prowess in 
 war. The Roman Conquest of this region proved to be more than a military 
 accident — it impressed a great part of the population with the indelible 
 stamp of Romance culture and contributed powerfully to form the Walloon 
 racial group. 
 
 The Franks brought in a fresh Teutonic element : it survives in the 
 Flemings and, as in the case of the Saxons and Danes of England, it widened 
 the outlook and the range of action of the nation without forcing the country 
 into the narrow groove of purely Germanic development. 
 In the economic Renaissance of Europe during the later MiddleAges Flanders 
 took the lead with the astonishing outburst of industry in Ghent, Ypres, 
 and other cities — and the progressive movement was reflected not only in 
 the output of their wares but also in the sturdy spirit of the redoutable 
 burgher arrays. In the Renaissance of learning and arts Belgium has taken 
 its place with the Van Eycks and Memling far ahead of many populous 
 kingdoms : Bruges shares with Florence and Nuremberg the glory of 
 emulating Athens in the wealth of its civic culture. 
 
 In the centuries of statecraft and absolutism the valleys of the Scheldt and 
 of the Meuse became the battle-ground of European sovereigns, but the 
 transition to a better age is marked again by a momentous act of the Belgian 
 people — by the rising against the benevolent despotism of Austria. 
 The settlement of 1830 was more than a casual fabrication of cunning 
 diplomats : it has brought together elements diverse in race but united by 
 creed, by cultural aspirations and by a spirit of stubborn independence. 
 King Albert is fortunate to stand at the head of such a people and the 
 Belgians can well be proud of a King who embodies in a full measure the 
 best virtues of the nation. 
 
 In ages to come travellers will look with pious emotion on the sites of Liege, 
 Louvain, Antwerp, the shores of the Yser, and if at the close of this terrible 
 war a prize were to be adjudicated to the most valiant nation, as the Greeks 
 did in their war of independence against the Persian King, the prize would 
 surely fall by unanimous consent to Belgium. If there is justice in the 
 world and a meaning in history, Belgium will arise out of the ashes, like 
 Phoenix, in renewed vigour and splendour. 
 
By SIDNEY WEBB 
 
 HUMANITY has found, after many a wound and countless ineffectual 
 struggles, that Law is the Mother of Liberty. Now Belgium has been 
 tortured by ruthless power. May it be so far not in vain that all the peoples 
 of the earth may learn that only in the building up of a really effective 
 International Law can national liberty be secured. 
 
 ^L^Xx^i^yUHr 
 
 By BENJAMIN KIDD 
 
 NO tribute which civilisation is able to make can meet the debt which the 
 human spirit owes to the Belgian people and to King Albert for ever. 
 When the tempter asked the Belgian people to be his accomplice against 
 France and offered Belgium a price for her soul. King Albert, backed by 
 his unanimous people, instantly took the terrible decision and gave firmly 
 the answer by which our common humanity has been ennobled. 
 It is an immortal story of Right rendered invincible through the crucifixion 
 of a People. ^ . 
 
 By SIR THOMAS BARCLAY 
 
 THE violation of Belgium's neutrality is a collective crime, including every 
 crime that dishonours the individual : murder, robbery, arson, perjury, 
 false pretences, broken faith, etc. 
 
 It is murder, not war, to wage bloodshed on those against whom there is 
 no grievance. It is robbery to take from the innocent as from the guilty, 
 and arson to burn down their homes. It is worse than perjury without 
 provocation to break a solemn promise and violate the trust of others. 
 The magnitude of Germany's crime has not yet been realised by the German 
 national conscience, but, sooner or later, it will be realised and then all 
 honest and truth-loving Germans, at present victims of deHberate mis- 
 representation, will feel the humiliation of having forfeited the respect and 
 confidence of mankind. They will see in all its blackness a crime which 
 will go down to posterity as one of the foulest deeds of all time — a treacherous 
 breach of faith coupled with a ruthless cruelty unsurpassed in history. No 
 casuistry will redeem the German people from the consciousness of having 
 provoked and deserved the curse of an unoffending people and the unquaUfied 
 reprobation of the whole civilised world. 
 
 66 
 
THE MARCH OF THE WOMEN 
 
 Ethel Smytli, musDoc. 
 
 TO the King of the Belgians and his heroic people who, believing in right rather 
 than in might, fought against overwhelming odds in defence of their honour and 
 freedom — even as women in England are fighting to win theirs — undying 
 gratitude, and everlasting glory ! 
 
 By EMMELINE PANKHURST 
 
 THE women of Great Britain will never forget what Belgium has done for 
 
 all that women hold most dear. 
 
 In the days to come mothers will tell their children how a small but great- 
 
 souled nation fought to the death against overwhelming odds and sacrificed 
 
 all things to save the world from an intolerable tyranny. 
 
 The story of the Belgian people's defence of Freedom will inspire countless 
 
 generations yet unborn. 
 
 67 
 
By CARDINAL GIBBONS 
 
 I GLADLY subscribe my name to King Albert's Book. 
 
 ^^^;>^ ( <*.*-.^. ^^^L--^-z>r?tv * 
 
 By WILLIAM J. LOCKE 
 
 To His Heroic Majesty the King oj the Belgians, 
 Sire, 
 
 One Fifth of November more worthy to live in the shuddering memory of 
 man than the anniversary which we EngHsh celebrate — one Fifth of Novem- 
 ber, three hundred and thirty-eight years ago, the wintry dawn broke upon 
 Antwerp burned and butchered by a soldiery " who," as the great American 
 historian says, " seemed to have cast off even the vizard of humanity. Hell," 
 he adds, " seemed emptied of its fiends." To-day a soldiery as ruthless 
 and as bestial has entered the gates of Antwerp after spreading a desolation 
 through your fair land such as Alva and his followers, supreme products 
 of a race then braggart too of its " culture," had neither the wit to devise 
 nor the ferocity to execute. More than three hundred years ago your country 
 fought for everything that man holds dear, everything that man holds sacred. 
 Against fearful odds she fought the greatest fight for Liberty that the world till 
 then had seen. In that stupendous struggle, " women, old men, and children 
 had all been combatants, and all therefore incurred the vengeance of 
 the conquerors." To-day, Sire, your foes, molested by naught but the 
 chivalrous resistance of your armies, have wreaked a vengeance thrice more 
 damnable. Three hundred years ago your country, with unparalleled heroism, 
 triumphed over the powers of darkness and established herself in Europe as 
 one of the centres of inspiration in all that matters to the soul of mankind. She 
 now, once more, has fought even a more glorious battle for Liberty than in 
 those far-off days. She has struck an immortal chord that vibrates and 
 shall vibrate through the united heart of the Anglo-Saxon, Latin, and Slav 
 races — races who, in that sublimated expression of Life to which we give 
 the name of Art, a term embracing all manifestations of spiritual discovery 
 from a song to a cathedral, have abhorred Teutonic ideals. And as in those 
 far-off days, your noble country, secure in her own integrity, and, now, 
 inspired by the wondering admiration of the civilised world, once more 
 shall triumph and once more shall play a prouder part than ever among the 
 nations of the earth. 
 
 For yourself, Sire, what more fitting tribute can a humble writer lay at your 
 feet than the words of the Anglo-Saxon historian regarding your predecessor 
 and exemplar, the great saviour of your country three hundred years ago : 
 He went through life bearing the load of a people's sorrows upon his 
 shoulders, with a smiling face. He was the guiding star of a great nation." 
 
 68 y 
 
s ■ 
 
 
 -5tjr^ 
 
 uKTHtFura 
 
 By H. Chandler Christy 
 
By MARIE GORELLI 
 
 For Belgium ! An Invocation 
 
 " What shall we do for our Sister in the day when she shall be spoken of ? 
 If she be a wall, we will build upon her a palace of silver." 
 
 Song êj Solomon 
 
 Maker of Heaven and Earth, 
 
 Thou, zcho hast given birth 
 To moving jnillions of pre-destined spheres. 
 
 Thou, whose resistless might 
 
 Resolves the Wrong to Right 
 Missing no moment of the measured years, — 
 
 Behold, we come to Thee ! 
 We lift our swords, unsheath'd, towards Thy throne — 
 
 Look down on us, and see 
 Our Sister-Nation, ruined and undone ! 
 Martyred for nobleness, for truth and trust ; 
 Help us, O God, to raise her from the dust ! 
 
 Be Thou our witness. Lord I 
 
 We swear with one accord 
 Swift retribution on her treacherous foe ! 
 
 Her bitter wrong is ours. 
 
 And heaven's full-armed powers 
 Shall hurl her murderer to his overthrow ! 
 
 Upon her broken wall 
 A silver palace of sweet peace shall rise 
 
 At that high Festival 
 When Victory's signal flashes through the skies — 
 But — until then ! — welcome the fiercest fray ! 
 We fight for Freedom ! God, give us " The Day " / 
 
 E* 69 
 
By THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK 
 
 THE King and people of Belgium were the first to meet the shock of this 
 terrible war into which Europe has been plunged. They were the first to 
 give proof of the spirit of heroic self-sacrifice by which alone it can be carried 
 through. It was their honour to lay down their national life for their 
 friends. It must be our honour to restore that national Hfe to them, secured 
 from menace, enriched and ennobled by the splendid sacrifice which it 
 has made. 
 
 / ^U^.^ù-'l/ì-yz 
 
 By THE Rev. Dr. JOHN CLIFFORD 
 
 The Belgian People and their King 
 
 AGAIN and again as I have read the story of the unparalleled exploits of 
 the Belgians and their King, the words of the prophet Isaiah have come to 
 me : "A man shall be as a hiding-place from the wind and a covert from 
 the tempest ; as rivers of water in a di-y place and as the shadow of a great 
 rock in a weary land." The outstanding hero of this stupendous war is 
 King Albert. He has been a refuge for his people in this day of trouble 
 and tragedy. Never has he hesitated from first to last. There has been 
 no vacillation. His complete self-abnegation has been matched by the 
 magnificence of his valour. He has stood his ground all the way through, 
 and is still the strong, steadfast soul in whom his suffering people trust. 
 He has led with courage and wisdom and self-sacrifice. He is the great 
 hero of a nation of heroes, the brave leader of a brave and gallant people. 
 By the clearest right, he goes to his place by the side of Leonidas and William 
 the Silent, King Alfred and Oliver Cromwell, and all the other real kings 
 of men. His noble and beautiful character, chivalrous spirit and whole- 
 souled work will enrich the human race for ever. To him, and his people, 
 we oflFer the most glowing admiration and the sincerest gratitude, for un- 
 forgettable sei'vice rendered to all the generations of men, by undaunted 
 resistance given to an unscrupulous and barbaric invader. 
 
 <fi9t^ ^^€l^^^ 
 
 By THE CHIEF RABBI 
 
 ONLY that nation can be called cultured which adds to the spiritual assets 
 
 of humanity ; which by its living and, if need be, by its dying, vindicates 
 
 the eternal values of life — conscience, honour, hberty. Judged by this test, 
 
 two of the littlest of peoples, Judeea in ancient times and Belgium to-day, 
 
 and not their mighty and ruthless oppressors, are among the chief defenders 
 
 of culture, champions of the sacred heritage of man. 
 
 Israel, that has endured all things, suffered all things, and survived all things, 
 
 believes with a perfect faith that Belgium, fighting for the Spirit, is as 
 
 indestructible as the Spirit. ^ 
 
By THE CARDINAL ARCHBISHOP OF REIMS 
 
 JE m'associe de toute mon âme à l'hommage d'admiration et de respectueuse 
 sympathie qu'on a eu l'heureuse pensée d'offrir à Sa Majesté le Roi Albert, 
 à son armée et à son peuple. 
 
 Oui, honneur au Roi des Belges. Toutes nos sympathies vont à ce souve- 
 rain magnanime, qui personnifie à l'heure actuelle aux yeux du monde entier 
 le Droit opprimé, que la colère d'un puissant adversaire n'a point intimidé, 
 et qui, malgré les revers de la fortune, persiste inébranlable dans la défense 
 de l'indépendance de son pays. 
 
 Dès qu'il se sut menacé, sa résolution fut prise. Aux propositions tour à 
 tour insinuantes et hautaines de laisser libre passage aux envahisseurs 
 qui s'apprêtaient à se ruer sur une nation amie de la Belgique et à la 
 surprendre par une attaque brusquée avant qu'elle eût le temps de concentrer 
 ses troupes, il osa répondre par le refus formel que lui dictait sa conscience. 
 Pour lui la neutralité de la Belgique n'était pas un vain mot, ni le traité qui 
 la stipulait " un simple bout de papier " dont on ne tient compte qu'autant 
 qu'on y a intérêt. Sans se laisser influencer par les menaces du solliciteur, 
 ni par la crainte des conséquences immédiates de sa réponse, il n'écouta 
 que la voix de la justice et de l'honneur. Sa résolution prise, il se mit en 
 mesure de la soutenir avec une admirable énergie : "S'il faut résister à 
 l'invasion, s'écrie-t-il, le devoir nous trouvera armés et décidés aux plus 
 grands sacrifices. Un seul devoir s'impose à nos volontés : une résistance 
 opiniâtre . . . l'étranger trouvera tous les Belges groupés autour de leur 
 souverain, qui ne trahira jamais son serment constitutionnel. 
 Voilà un fier langage auquel le monde entier a justement applaudi. 
 Honneur à l'armée de la Belgique ! Ce fut un cri d'étonnement et d'admira- 
 tion lorsqu'on apprit que subitement jetée en guerre contre la nation la plus 
 fortement armée de l'Europe, elle tenait en échec les légions de son puissant 
 ennemi à Liège et à Namur, brisait son élan, faisait échouer son plan 
 d'attaque en l'empêchant de prendre l'avance sur laquelle il avait comptée. 
 Obligée cependant de céder devant le nombre, elle se replia sur Anvers, et 
 quand elle dut évacuer ce dernier boulevard de sa résistance, ce ne fut pas 
 pour rendre les armes ; elle vint prendre place entre l'armée de la France 
 et celle de l'Angleterre pour partager avec elles les périls de la guerre en 
 attendant l'heure de partager l'honneur de la victoire finale. 
 L'armée Belge a écrit dans l'histoire du monde une des pages les plus 
 glorieuses. 
 
 Honneur au peuple Belge! Il s'est montré digne de la confiance que son 
 Roi avait en son patriotisme. Il a noblement ratifié l'attitude de son 
 souverain en acceptant généreusement les sacrifices de la guerre. Levée de 
 tous les hommes valides, siège et bombardement de ses forteresses, dé- 
 vastation de ses villes et de ses campagnes, destruction de ses monuments 
 et de ses chefs-d'œuvre, sévices de l'ennemi furieux de sa résistance, revers 
 prévus, mais douloureux quand même, de ses armes, il a tout supporté avec 
 une noble résignation et sans perdre courage. Liège, Namur, Tournai, 
 
 71 
 
Gand, Bruges, Anvers, toutes ses villes si prospères, si pacifiques, Bruxelles, 
 sa capitale, sont tombées l'une après l'autre sous les coups de l'ennemi dix 
 fois supérieur en nombre, sans que son invincible constance soit ébranlée. 
 Il offre maintenant au monde le spectacle poignant qu'on n'avait pas vu 
 depuis les invasions des Barbares, d'un peuple chassé de ses foyers, et 
 réduit à l'émigration pour échapper à un joug qu'il ne veut pas subir. 
 Plein de confiance en sa cause et en son Dieu, il attend que la victoire re- 
 vienne sous ses étendards qui sont ceux mêmes de la justice et de la liberté. 
 La guerre actuelle a montré au monde que dans ce petit pays de Belgique 
 habite un grand peuple. 
 
 Au Roi des Belges, à son armée, à son peuple, nous offrons respectueusement 
 l'hommage de notre admiration et de notre reconnaissance. 
 Qu'il soit permis au Cardinal-Archevêque de Reims d'adresser aussi un 
 salut fraternel au vénérable et illustre Archevêque de Malines, S.E. le 
 Cardinal Mercier. Tous deux au retour du Conclave, nous avons trouvé 
 fermée la porte de nos diocèses envahis. Nous n'y sommes rentrés que 
 pour pleurer sur les ruines, et nous aurions pu, sur nos diocèses ravagés et 
 sur nos cathédrales incendiées de Malines et de Reims, chanter les lamenta- 
 tions du Prophète sur les décimbres fumants de Jérusalem et de son Temple. 
 Associés dans la douleur, nous le sommes aussi dans la prière pour implorer 
 la protection du Ciel en faveur de nos deux peuples, qui, de tout temps 
 frères dans la foi catholique, le seront désormais dans le souvenir des 
 souffrances partagées et par les liens d'une amitié infrangible. 
 
 /- 
 
 -} 
 
 ILSL^ 
 
 '^. 
 
 c^C^e^ .i- 
 
 TRANSLATION (abridged) 
 
 I associate myself whole-heartedly with the happily 
 conceived tribute of admiraiiofi and respectful sytn- 
 pathv vou propose to offer to King Albert, his army, 
 and his people. 
 
 Yes, all honour to the King of the Belgians ! All 
 our hearts go out to this noble prince, who now per- 
 sonifies to the whole world oppressed Right, who, 
 undaunted by the rage of a mighty adversary, and 
 tmcrushed by reverses, stands like a rock to defend 
 the independence of his country. 
 
 » * * ♦ * 
 
 All honour to the Belgian army ! There was a 
 universal cry of astonishment and admiration when 
 it was knoicn that, confronted suddenly with the most 
 formidable army in Europe, it teas holding the 
 legions of its mighty foe in check at Liege and at 
 Namur, breaking his onslaught, frustrating his plan 
 of attack, and preventing hiiufrom taking the initiative 
 on which he had reckoned. Forced at last to give 
 way before numbers, it fell back upon Antwerp, and 
 when it had to evacuate this last buhvark, it was fiot 
 to lay down its arms ; it came to take its place between 
 the armies of France and England, and share with 
 them the perils of war, while awaiting the hour ichen 
 it should share with them the honours of the final 
 victory. . . . 
 All honour to the Belgian people ! They have shown 
 
 72 
 
 <: 
 
 themselves worthy of the King's confidence in their 
 patriotism. They nobly ratified their prince's attitude 
 by a generous acceptance of the sacrifices of war. 
 The call to arms of every able-bodied man, the siege 
 and bombardment of their fortresses, the devastation 
 of their towns and lands, the destruction of their 
 monuments and works of art, the severities of an 
 enemy infuriated by their resistance, reverses not less 
 painful because they had been foreseen, they bore all 
 zvith noble courage and resignation. Liege, Namur, 
 Tournai, Ghent, Bruges, Anizverp, all their peaceful 
 and prosperous cities, and Brussels, their capital, 
 have fallen one after the other under the attacks of 
 an enemy that outnmnbered thetn tenfold, and still 
 their unconquerable spirit is unshaken. 
 They nozv offer the poignant spectacle, unknown since 
 the days of barbarian invasion, of a people driven 
 from their homes, and obliged to emigrate to escape a 
 domination they refuse to accept. 
 Confident in their God and their cause, they await 
 the return of victory to their standards, the banners 
 of justice and of liberty. This war has shown Europe 
 that little Belgium is the land of a great people. 
 To the King of the Belgians, to his army, and to his 
 people, we respectfully offer our tribute of admiration 
 and gratitude. 
 
By W. L. COURTNEY 
 By the North Sea 
 
 Death and Sorrow and Sleep : 
 Here where the slow waves creep, 
 
 This is the chant I hear, 
 The chant oj the measureless deep. 
 
 What was Sorrow to me 
 Then, when the young lije Jree 
 
 Thirsted j or joys oj earth. 
 Far jrom the desolate sea ? 
 
 What was Sleep but a rest, 
 Giving to youth the best 
 
 Dreams jrom the ivory gate. 
 Visions oj God manijest ? 
 
 What was Death but a tale 
 Told to jaces grown pale. 
 
 Worn and wasted with years — 
 A meaniîigless thing to the hale ? 
 
 Death and Sorrow and Sleep : 
 Now their sad message I keep. 
 
 Tossed on the wet ivind's breath. 
 The chant oj the measureless deep. 
 
 By SIR THOMAS BROCK 
 
 Aid for the Fallen 
 
 I OFFER my picture as a small tribute to the splendid courage and fortitude 
 
 shown by the Belgian people in upholding the honour and integrity of their 
 
 country, offering as they do an example to the whole world. 
 
 It is our first duty to relieve their sufferings as far as possible, and when their 
 
 territory is once more free from the invaders to help them to restore their 
 
 devastated cities. 
 
By J. L. GARVIN 
 
 WE in England would rather be blotted out of the book of nations than 
 that Belgium should not be lifted up from ruin and gloriously restored. 
 To that cause we have pledged our all, and until our pledge is redeemed in 
 such sort that the justice of an overruling God shall be made manifest 
 through us, never can we know soul's comfort in our own land spared by 
 war nor cease our efforts to succour the bitter need of a desolate people 
 and to hearten that little indomitable army of freedom and honour under 
 its noble and beloved young King. No words of ours can be worthy of 
 them and we can never do enough. The resistance of Belgium will live as 
 one of the great legends of the world, and I firmly believe that its spiritual 
 significance can only deepen with centuries. Nothing that we think of as 
 heroic, tragic, inspiring in the past, or as confirming our faith that the best 
 shall conquer the worst, exceeds what Flemings and Walloons over there 
 have dared, suffered, and done in the twentieth century. They have made 
 the name of their country an immortal word hkc Marathon — " the trumpet 
 of a prophecy " that the reign of public law and peace shall yet be stablished 
 upon the inviolable faith of treaties and that the sanctity of a scrap of paper 
 shall be mightier than Krupp guns. 
 
 By A. G. GARDINER 
 
 WHA'i'EVER the course of the war, whatever the fate of Europe, it is in 
 
 King Albert that the future will see the most human, the most knightly 
 
 figure of this Titanic struggle. 
 
 Belgium has died for freedom, for our freedom, for the freedom of the 
 
 world. Let us see that she rises again triumphant from her tears and ashes. 
 
 And if righteousness endures beneath the sun she will rise. 
 
 By J. A. SPENDER 
 
 SYMPATHY with Belgium must be mingled with envy — envy of the noble 
 courage and matchless national spirit which, in the hour of her affliction, 
 make her great among the peoples of the world. She has fought the 
 Thermopylae of the allied cause and it remains for her brothers-in-arms 
 to see that her sacrifice is rewarded and her country restored. Our homage 
 to the brave King who has dared all for the honour and liberty of the people 
 committed to his charge. ^ 
 
 74 
 
By Mrs. HUMPHRY WARD 
 All Saints' Day, 1914 
 
 I have been wandering through the English fields, and under the English 
 woods in a last lingering blaze of summer, before the winter comes. All 
 day the sun has been clear in heaven ; all last night the moon shone without 
 a cloud. The oaks are still — the majority of them — defiantly green as though 
 they challenged a tyrant ; and where the woods lie close and thick in the 
 basins of the hills, they show sharp patterns of deep green and flaming gold, 
 patterns of Nature's finest weaving. Amethyst and gold, the beeches ; 
 amethyst, blue, and gold, the distances ; and here and there a yew, violently 
 black, or a hedgerow elm, its rounded leaf masses topped with yellow, or — 
 on the common — furze-bushes, alive with blossom. The children are in 
 the park picking up acorns and walnuts ; a green woodpecker is paying his 
 autumn visit to the lawn before my window, pecking and stabbing for dear 
 life : the friendly robins sing round the house ; slowly, slowly, the sun 
 sinks into the quiet mists that rise towards it ; and the glorious day will 
 soon be done. 
 
 Thus goes All Saints' Day in this valley of the Chilterns. And, meanwhile, 
 how goes it 150 miles away, where Belgians, Frenchmen, and EngHshmen 
 are fighting in the blood-stained trenches of West Flanders ? No blood here, 
 no hint of it ! — save where the sun strikes the deep carpet of fallen beech 
 leaves, and the bright colour startles our sad thoughts. But there, men are 
 pouring out their blood like water ; and all that, in this quiet English scene, 
 we dare picture to ourselves of horror, of devilish pain and destruction, 
 comes nowhere near the truth. Frenchmen and Englishmen, closely inter- 
 linked, from west to east, from the sea to the Vosges, fronting the hideous 
 onslaught of men, in whom a world uprisen sees a branded race — traitors 
 to civilisation and to humanity ! And far to the north-west, in land hardly 
 distinguishable from the sea, which has been won from the sea by infinite 
 labour, there are thin Unes of men in the Belgian trenches, " holding the 
 pass " against the barbarian, as truly as any Greek did at Thermopylae. 
 Yet here are no blue mountains looking on. Only flat grey land, and 
 featureless grey sea, and that grey advancing flood, where the Belgians have 
 called in the sea to fight with them, and have given him in payment their 
 hard- won fields, their dykes, and villages, to keep in trust for a nation of 
 heroes, till the battle is won. " They told us to hold the trenches for 24 
 hours ; we held them ; then they said, ' Hold them 48 hours more,' and 
 we have done it." So ran one of the most soul-stirring messages of war ever 
 written. They have done it \ And now the English and French have come 
 up, and the little army which has saved the left wing and protected Calais 
 may fall back a while to count its dead. One in three, they say — one m 
 three ! Shall we not write over the fallen Belgians what was written over 
 the Spartan dead at Plataea : 
 
 " These men having set a crown of immortal glory on their own land, were 
 folded in the dark cloud of death. Yet being dead, they have not died, 
 
 75 
 
seeing their fame in battle hath raised them up for ever from Forgetting 
 and the Grave." 
 
 What can we do, we Enghshwomen at home in our sheltered island, for this 
 heroic little nation that has held the pass ? Day and night the fleeing army 
 of women and children, of old men and boys passes northward to Holland, 
 and westward over the sea to England. The other night, in a London 
 social settlement, which has been largely given over to the refugees, a woman 
 I know watched the incoming stream — peasants in their sabots, small 
 bourgeois, carrying with them a few last possessions, children weary to death 
 and wailing for food. But English hands were proud to wait on them, and 
 English brains to plan for them. Here were a father and mother and seven 
 children from Louvain — who had been tramping and hiding in the Flemish 
 fields for days and nights. The mother was on the point of maternity. 
 There was no accommodation for her in the settlement, where the large hall 
 and the gymnasium have been turned into wards for men and women 
 respectively, of the peasant class, and the separate rooms looking out on 
 the garden have been mostly assigned to the elderly men and women of the 
 educated professional type. Much perplexity, accordingly, as to the poor 
 expectant mother, in the mind of the kind Scotch lady who is the house- 
 keeper of the settlement ! But, suddenly, she remembers an address in 
 Kensington ; she flies to the telephone; she calls up a house in Queen's Gate, 
 and its mistress. " Did you say the other day you would take in Belgian 
 women for their confinement .'' " " Certainly ! Have you got such a case ?" 
 The note of joyful eagerness in the voice was unmistakable through the tube. 
 Details are given. " All right. I will bring my motor round directly." 
 And in an hour or so from her arrival, the dazed and wearied woman, with 
 another Belgian woman and her little boy of three to keep her company, 
 are speeding in a luxurious motor to the house in Queen's Gate. A warm 
 room, a comfortable bed, nurse, clothing, food — everything is ready ! In 
 a few days the poor soul's trouble is over, and the pretty babe lies peacefully 
 beside its resting mother. For three days ! Then the soul of the peasant 
 woman who waits on others, and is never waited on, rebelled. " I am always 
 up, madame, in three days." " This time, take five ! You were so worn 
 out ! " Most unwillingly, the tired body rests a few more days ; and then 
 the whole family goes to a cottage ready for them, in an English village, 
 the children go to school, the whole village become their protectors and 
 friends, the Flemings learn a few words of English, the English a few words 
 of Flemish, kindness and gesture do the rest, till, occasionally, an interpreter 
 comes round and promotes a more satisfactory intercourse. 
 But among the incoming throng on this October night there are figures of 
 another type. A mother and three daughters — the widow and children of 
 a Belgian ofiicer — soft-spoken, refined women, flying in terror from Antwerp, 
 with a few scanty parcels of luggage, plus a grey parrot ! — who is no sooner 
 set down in the rooms allotted to them, than he vents his opinion on the 
 discomforts of the journey in some vigorous cursing of " Guillaume " ! 
 76 
 
' -"--ifexKin^ <i»i 
 
 I 
 
 < 
 
 :/ 
 
 'J 
 
 a; 
 
 < 
 
 
 
 X 
 
 t— 
 
 CO 
 
 =5' 
 
^ 
 
 .' I 
 
The settlement shelters them all for a week or two and then they become 
 the honoured guests of an English country house, belonging to one of the 
 most distinguished of English soldiers, and his wife, one of the gentlest of 
 English ladies. 
 
 If tender sympathy can soothe the private and public grief of such exiles, 
 theirs should indeed be soothed ; and mercifully, three out of this party 
 of four are young, and to the young it is natural to smile, when the faces 
 round them are all kindness, and a tragic flight has become an adventure, 
 which would be only delightful — but for that low coast-line, and that grey 
 sea, those ruined towns, those wounded men, that are in the minds of us all ! 
 Thus all over England, and all over hospitable Holland, the fugitives spread, 
 hands of welcome and pity are stretched out, and the great exile goes on — 
 interminably. But the hours are passing, and the hours of darkness are 
 slowly, slowly, handing on the torch to the hours of hope and dawn. Steadily 
 the Huns retreat ; steadily the defenders of freedom and civilisation press 
 their way forward over the ruined and bloodstained land. Surely, with the 
 spring, the Belgian life-wave will turn homeward again ! It will flow back 
 into the waste places and the scourged heroic land will bloom again with 
 young life, and peaceful labour, and home joy. The dead, the dead will not 
 be there ! — save in our hearts that mourn. But they rest in the Lord, and 
 their works shall follow them. A little nation has become for all time a 
 song and a story, to refresh and kindle the " holy spirit of man " — so that 
 when these evil days are over, and we count up the score, we shall not put 
 what has happened in Belgium, during these autumn months, among the 
 tragedies of history, but rather among the imperishable triumphs of the soul. 
 
 ^dTU ^* liQut(^ 
 
 By SIR CHARLES WYNDHAM 
 
 From Shelley's " Hellas " 
 
 Let the tyrants rule the desert they have made ; 
 Let the Jree possess the Paradise they claim ; 
 Be the fortune of our fierce oppressors weighed 
 With our ruin, our resistance, and our name ! 
 
 Our dead shall be the seed of their decay, 
 Our survivors be the shadow of their pride, 
 Our adversity a dream to pass away, 
 Their dishonour a remembrance to abide ! 
 
 d 
 
 ^^**^^^^>u^ 
 
 11 
 
By LORD NORTHCLIFFE 
 
 THE Christmas message we all wish to send across the North Sea is this ; 
 that we British will fight to the end and work to the end for the King of 
 Belgium and the Belgian people, because we believe that for all time in 
 the world quiet homes and noble lives and surer peace will spring from 
 the seed of their sacrifice. 
 
 The noble king of a true democracy has fought with his people against 
 military tyranny and the lust of power, as rarely king or nation has fought 
 before. Even in the midst of suffering and loss too great for words Belgium 
 may feel that the fruits will surpass the sacrifice and all the world one day 
 share in the Belgian victory. 
 
 Jis^^d^ 
 
 By SIR EDWARD J. POYNTER, BART., P.R.A. 
 
 NOT only for myself but for the body of which I am president I have no 
 hesitation in affirming that all my colleagues of the Royal Academy are 
 with me in the horror we feel at the treatment which the unoffending popu- 
 lation of Belgium has received at the hands of the barbarous hordes of 
 Prussians who have devastated that beautiful and peaceful country — 
 outrages of the most savage kind inflicted under pretences invented for the 
 occasion by that race which has proved itself so prolific of lies and spies. 
 But above all this do we admire the magnificent bravery with which the 
 Belgians have withstood the onslaught of overwhelming numbers : for it 
 is to their splendid courage, under their heroic King, in bearing the first 
 brunt of the treacherous Prussian attack that the world owes it that the 
 vast German scheme of conquest has hitherto failed. 
 
 ^ JL4^^ ) (P(ry 
 
 -t^./'W^ 
 
 By LORD REDESDALE 
 
 To the King of the Belgians, 
 
 Sire, 
 Fighting on behalf of the whole world — a Hero at the head of an heroic 
 people — Your Majesty has made the cruellest sacrifices. The world will 
 not forget. 
 
 Sire, you have lost much — you have won Immortality. 
 I have the honour to be. 
 
 Sire, 
 
 Your Majesty's 
 
 Most obedient humble servant, 
 
 78 
 
By LORD BURNHAM 
 
 THE position at this moment is without precedent in our history. A noble 
 
 and gallant little nation has imperilled its very existence, and brought upon 
 
 itself immeasurable calamities, by resistance to the aggression of a powerful, 
 
 arrogant, and heartless foe. It has done this with a courage and devotion 
 
 that have won universal admiration. 
 
 The independence and integrity of Belgium are vital interests to Britain. 
 
 What she has done and suffered constitute, therefore, a claim on the British 
 
 people that is irresistible. 
 
 With no assigned pretext of justification, the hordes of Germany have 
 
 invaded and wasted her territory, and by acts of war, and by deeds that are 
 
 murder not warfare, have done to death thousands of her people and driven 
 
 hundreds of thousands into exile. 
 
 Countless homes desolated, families broken and scattered, children orphaned, 
 
 the trade and means of existence of the most thickly peopled and most 
 
 industrious country of continental Europe paralysed, chaos and ruin where 
 
 there had been peace and happiness — these are some of the elements of 
 
 the tragic fate that has overwhelmed this brave, unoffending nation. Never 
 
 in our time has a people been so cruelly treated. 
 
 The splendour of the efforts and the magnitude of the self-sacrifice of this 
 
 gallant people, no less than the dauntless heroism of the King and his army 
 
 in resisting the invasion of their country, defying terrors and undergoing 
 
 outrages that are unknown in civilised warfare, appeal to us equally with 
 
 their appalling and indescribable sorrows. 
 
 The world's admiration has been moved, and the world's compassion 
 
 aroused by unsurpassed bravery and unparalleled suffering. 
 
 May this volume generate a world-wide feeling that not enough can possibly 
 
 be done to honour the courage and assuage the grief of this noble-hearted 
 
 and afflicted people. 
 
 No one can feel more poignantly than I do this pressing necessity. But we 
 
 must not be content to think only of a terrible past — irradiated though it 
 
 be with magnificent patriotism and valour. We must look to the future. 
 
 As far as human sympathy and help can do it, we must bring to Belgium, 
 
 great in virtue of her martyrdom, consolation and atonement for the 
 
 wrongs which she has endured. /-, , j 
 
 By WILL CROOKS 
 
 THE Story of the Ages does not give us anything so soul-inspiring as the 
 fighting martyrdom of Belgium, its King and its people in 1914. Its failure 
 to keep its homeland from bloody hands for awhile will prove its mighty 
 triumph for the whole world. Its sacrifice will thrill generations yet to be, 
 who will call Belgium blessed both in their memory and their prayers. 
 
 79 
 
By EMILE VERHAEREN 
 
 A sa Majesté Albert /'% Roi des Beiges, 
 
 Sire, 
 
 C'est peut-être, depuis les belles journées de Liège, la première vraie joie 
 
 que l'on me permet d'éprouver en me priant de vous rendre hommage. 
 
 Vous êtes, à cette heure, le seul roi du monde que ses sujets à l'unanimité, 
 
 sans exception aucune, aiment et admirent de toute la force de leur âme. 
 
 Ce sort unique est le vôtre. Sire. Aucun conducteur d'hommes ne l'eut 
 
 au même point que vous, sur la terre. 
 
 Malgré l'immensité du deuil qui vous entoure, il me semble que vous avez 
 
 le droit de vous en réjouir. D'autant que votre compagne. Sa Majesté la 
 
 Reine, participe à votre rarissime privilège. 
 
 Sire, votre nom sera désormais très grand. Vous vous êtes à tel point 
 
 confondu avec votre peuple que vous en demeurez le symbole. Son courage, 
 
 sa ténacité, sa douleur tue, sa fierté, sa grandeur future, son immortalité 
 
 résident en vous. Notre âme profonde est la vôtre. Vous êtes nous tous 
 
 en étant vous seul. Et vous le resterez. 
 
 Plus tard, lorsque vous rentrerez dans votre Belgique reconquise et infiniment 
 
 glorieuse, vous n'aurez qu'à parler. Sire, pour que les querelles baissent 
 
 de ton et que les antagonismes s'évanouissent. Si bien qu'après avoir 
 
 été celui qui maintient et défend vous serez celui qui rapproche et 
 
 reconcilie. 
 
 Sire, croyez à mon respect fervent. S n n ^ 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 
 Sire, cerne. You are in such perfect sympathy with your 
 
 This request to pay my respectful homai^e to you has people that you will alzvays be their symbol. Their 
 
 given me the first real pleasure I have been permitted courage, their tenacity, their stifled grief, their pride, 
 
 to feel since the good days of Liege. At this moment their future greatness, their immortality all live in 
 
 you are the one king in the world whose subjects, you. Our hearts are yours to their very depths. 
 
 without exception, unite in loving and admiring him Being yourself, you are all of us. And this you wilt 
 
 with all the strength of their souls. 'This unique fate remain. 
 
 is yours, Sire. No leader of men on earth has had it Later on, when you return to your recaptured and 
 
 in the same degree as you. glorious Belgium, you will only have to say the word. 
 
 In spite of the immensity of the sorrow surrounding Sire, and all disputes will lose their bitterness and all 
 
 you, I think you have a right to rejoice, and the more antagonisms fade aivay. After being our strength 
 
 so as your consort, Her Majesty the Queen, shares and defender, you will become our peacemaker and 
 
 this rare privilege with you. reconciler. 
 
 Sire, your name will be great throughout the ages to With deepest respect, 
 
 By SIR JOHN BLAND-SUTTON 
 
 " I sin in envying his nobility.^' 
 Could I be anything I wished, 
 
 80 
 
By SIR ADOLPHUS WILLIAM WARD 
 
 Master of Peteriwuse 
 
 IT so happens that, more than three-quarters of a century ago, my father 
 was personally much connected with the leaders of the movement that 
 resulted in the recognition of Belgian independence and in the guarantee 
 of Belgian neutrality by the European Great Powers, He remembered 
 very well how, not long after the day had been won and King Albert's 
 illustrious grandfather, King Leopold I, had mounted the throne on which 
 he achieved so much for the prosperity of his own monarchy and for the 
 peace of Europe at large, the King dismissed him after an audience with 
 the words : " You know I am not without difficulties here ; but I take 
 England as my model, and try to get on in a constitutional way." In this 
 spirit the Kings of the Belgians have ruled for three generations over a 
 people that loves liberty, without throwing to the winds respect for au- 
 thority in Church and State, 
 
 But between the Belgians and ourselves there is something besides inter- 
 national obligations and political sympathy. These are the glorious tradi- 
 tions of a history which in the course of many centuries has estabHshed 
 between England and the Belgic lands a connection closer than that between 
 her and any other part of continental Europe. The measure in which the 
 inhabitants of this island are kith and kin with the neighbours of the Saxons 
 and Frisians is a question that has long attracted students, but it is most 
 assuredly a question of measure only. What is more to the purpose, the 
 main industry of the great Flemish communes became in the later Middle 
 Ages the chief customer of English pastoral productivity, and, besides 
 leading to much immigration to these shores, became the basis of a cordial 
 political alhance. Times changed with the decHne of the mercantile and 
 the downfall of the political greatness of the good towns ; but the com- 
 mercial relations between Great Britain and the Spanish (Austrian) Nether- 
 lands remained of vital interest to both countries, and formed an essential 
 element in the system of alliances and conditions of treaties from the sixteenth 
 to the eighteenth century. 
 
 The debt owing to Belgian art and Belgian letters — to the labours of Belgian 
 historians, I may venture to add, in particular — is one which this country 
 shares with the world at large. But I cannot close without recalling how 
 to the history of religion — an influence often united with that of trade and 
 with that of politics, but working in more profound and mysterious fashion 
 — and to the history of education, which is inseparable from it, Belgium has 
 contributed in many ways, but above all in that of deepening these move- 
 ments of soul and mind. The beginnings of Christian mystical thought 
 and of the fraternities from which both Renaissance and Regeneration drew 
 some of their truest spiritual force are in no small part traceable to the 
 saintly influence of Ruysbroek, whose birthplace was not far from the 
 modern Belgian capital. And the foremost representative of this learning 
 and this teaching was a professor of the earliest and most venerable of those 
 
Belgian universities to which our hearts are going out to-day — the friend 
 of Erasmus in the chair of St. Peter. It may seem almost idle in these days 
 of bloodshed and destruction to look back for half a thousand years. But 
 with the stillness as well as with the profound earnestness of the noblest 
 part of Belgian spiritual life from the fourteenth to the sixteenth century 
 may well be compared the sustained efforts for peace between the nations 
 which long seemed one of the most hopeful signs in the public life of the 
 latter half of the nineteenth century and in the early years of our own ; 
 and in these efforts Belgian statesmen and publicists have notably taken 
 what may be called a leading part. 
 
 For the sake of the long historical connection between the two peoples ; 
 for the sake of the deep compassion and the high admiration to which the 
 Belgians have become entitled by what they have suffered and what they 
 have done in the dark days of the present, and for the sake of the peace 
 which they and we have at heart — we have welcomed among us the subjects 
 of our King's kinsman and ally, and we pray for their restoration, in God's 
 good time, to tlieir own fair and gracious land. 
 
 â 
 
 By THE Right. Rev. BISHOP OF LONDON, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 THE real difficulty of writing about Belgium is to find language adequate 
 to express in the first place the scandalous injustice of her treatment. 
 Whatever any other State may have done, or not done, Belgium had done 
 absolutely nothing to deserve this treatment ; she had maintained her 
 neutrality with perfect impartiality, and her treatment will be considered 
 one of the crimes of history. 
 
 But, if language is inadequate to describe the injustice of her treatment, 
 who can describe the pathos of that fleeing multitude, homeless, ruined, 
 and in terror of their lives ? The heart of the world goes out to them in pity. 
 But, with pity is mingled the deepest admiration. Led by their splendid 
 King, they have given an example of sublime courage and unflinching 
 valour which has ennobled the world. They have shown that the soul of a 
 people can be unconquerable while its whole territory is ravaged and its 
 towns and villages are in flames. It must be the prayer of every lover of 
 justice in the world that the Great God in Heaven may avenge the wrongs 
 and reward the courage of the Belgian people. 
 
 82 
 
By PROFESSOR GILBERT MURRAY 
 
 I SAW yesterday a regiment of British cavalry returning from manœuvres, 
 every man of them wearing the colours of a foreign nation. That is not a 
 common sight. Sometimes the soldiers of a conquered people have been 
 forced to wear foreign colours, but they would not wear them with pride 
 as these men did. Sometimes the soldiers of a weak and oppressed people 
 have been proud to wear the colours of some great and conquering Powder 
 which was its ally. But these men were wearing the colours of a small and 
 unfortunate nation, a nation in exile, whose lands are ravaged, its towns 
 destroyed, and its territory in the occupation of the enemy. It is not for 
 any material or worldly reason that British soldiers are proud to wear Belgian 
 colours ; it is because Belgium in a time of terrific trial has done what we 
 all should be most proud to have done, and has become an emblem to all 
 the world of freedom and heroic courage. 
 
 The sufferings of Belgium would be enough in themselves, and more than 
 enough, to constitute a claim on all the help that we can give. Every one 
 admits the claim. In the town where I write it is not only well-to-do 
 people who are offering every kind of help and hospitality. Shops from 
 time to time refuse to take money when they hear that the goods they have 
 supplied are. for the Belgians. Artisans and tradesmen come and offer to 
 work in their spare hours without payment. In the last few days the town 
 workmen in one very poor neighbourhood have offered food and lodging 
 rent free for a year ; the agricultural labourers in small villages have 
 clubbed their pennies together and rented and furnished cottages. The 
 same spirit is to be found all over England. 
 
 Now it is not mere sympathy, not mere pity for misfortune, that has stirred 
 our whole nation like this. There is that in it, of course ; but still more 
 there is admiration and gratitude. And we are grateful not only because 
 Belgium stood, as a matter of fact, between us and the first fur}^ of the 
 German onslaught, but because Belgium has raised our ideal of human life 
 and taught us to expect greater things of the world. 
 
 We did not know that our comfortable liberal-minded western civilisation 
 had in it this heart of heroism. We had read of the heroes and martyrs of 
 history, and we felt with a misgiving that they were perhaps out of date. 
 Life was no doubt easier now and less cruel ; but it seemed looser in quality 
 and woven of cheaper material. We have been shaken out of that false 
 resignation. We have discovered that the days of cruelty are by no means 
 past ; and, just when the shock of that discovery came, Belgium rose and 
 showed us that the days of heroism are not past either. She stands as an 
 example to all nations who doubt whether national life is a thing worth 
 suffering for, to all individuals who doubt their own value as free souls or 
 their capacity for facing danger or martyrdom. Consciously or uncon- 
 sciously there has come to each man's heart a secret message, raising his 
 confidence in himself and bracing all his faculties : " The Belgians have 
 done these things: why should not I ? " 
 
 83 
 
CARILLON 
 
 (POUR GRAND ORCHESTRE) POUR ACCOMPAGNER 
 
 "CHANTONS, BELGES. CHANTONS!" 
 
 POEME 
 
 D'EMILE CAMMAERTS 
 
 MUSIQUE PAR 
 
 EDWARD ELGAR, o.m., 
 
 ASSOCIÉ DE L' ACADÉMIE ROYALE DE BELGIQUE. 
 
 Pianò. 
 
 Introduzione. 
 
 Allegro (■e'. = circa CO). 
 
 Op. 75. 
 
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 si 
 
By SIR GILBERT PARKER 
 
 IT is given to some men and some peoples now and again in the world's 
 history to represent mankind at its truest, its highest and best ; to offer 
 upon altars of liberty the blood of sacrifice for all men in all the 
 world ; and to pledge for humanity once again devotion to eternal things. 
 This is what the Belgian King and the Belgian people have done. A 
 monstrous, destroying legion of terror and tyranny moved upon them out 
 of the night, offered them gain and gold if they would forswear their bond, 
 and give freedom to the legions of an Emperor to whom the ink of honour 
 and the pledged paper were no obstacles to the march of ambition. Belgium, 
 its King and people, preferred death to dishonour. Their way was the 
 ancient way — to lose the whole and gain their own souls. This they did, 
 and while Time tells its story the torch that Belgium lighted will burn, and 
 the hand of the King that held it aloft will be honoured among men. 
 
 " Oh, happy are all free peoples too strong to be dispossessed, 
 But blessed are they among nations that dare to be strong jor the rest." 
 
 By SIR SIDNEY LEE 
 
 THE King of the Belgians and his brave army have set an example which 
 lends humanity a new glory. Their heroic resistance to the wholly un- 
 merited wrongs which brute strength has forced upon them has shed 
 fresh radiance on the history of the civilised world. In spite of the cruel 
 suffering which the ruthless enemy has sown broadcast through the land, 
 in spite of all the waste and desolation which German soldiers have inflicted 
 without pity or remorse, Belgium, its ruler and its people, may find hope 
 and consolation in the knowledge that the justice of their cause is 
 recognised wherever truth and right prevail, and that the honour of all 
 honourable men is pledged to secure for them due reparation of their 
 unconscionable wrongs. 
 
 By PROFESSOR WILLIAM FLINDERS PETRIE 
 F.R.S., F.B.A., D.C.L., LL.D., Ph.D. 
 
 TO the Belgian Nation and its Noble Leader, I present the most sincere 
 Homage to its Braver}^ 
 Respect for its unflinching Fortitude, 
 Gratitude for its saving of England and France, 
 Wishes for its speedy resettlement, 
 Hopes that by its sufferings it may be perfected in true greatness. 
 
 iS\S\LL^d±i 
 
 92 
 
By SIR HERBERT TREE 
 
 The Ultimatum : or, Every Man Has His Price. 
 
 Characters : The Ruler of a Great People ; a Chiropodist ; Princes, Grand 
 
 Dukes, Ministers oj State, Priest, Professor, and Sycophants. 
 
 Scene : The Ruler's marble bathroom in the Palace. 
 
 {At the rise oj curtain, the Ruler of a Great People is 
 discovered seated in his dressing-gown ; the Chiropodist 
 plies his trade ^ 
 Chiropodist : What remarkable corns your Majesty has ! 
 Ruler : Yes, they are ancestral — all my predecessors were noted for 
 
 them. 
 Chiropodist : I have heard, your Majesty, that in the seventeenth century 
 
 many of the Court wore tight shoes in order to cultivate the Royal 
 
 infirmity — [correcting himself] — prerogative ! 
 Ruler : I daresay. Take care — you hurt me. [Chiropodist takes from 
 
 his tray some drops frotn a little bottle labelled " Poison " and applies 
 
 them with a brush to the royal foot, and resumes his pedicure.] You 
 
 may continue to address us. 
 Chiropodist [after a pause, choosing his topic] : The weather, your Majesty, 
 
 is very — very regrettable. 
 Ruler [with the divine-right manner] : Yes, we are much displeased with 
 
 the weather ! 
 Chiropodist : Yet the peasants have prayed for fine weather for the occasion 
 
 of your Majesty's name-day. 
 Ruler : The prayers of peasants are not always heard. To-day is Friday, 
 
 is it not ? I have a superstition against signing important documents 
 
 on Friday. To-night it is the Ultimatum. [Bored.] Oh, this war ! 
 
 What is the feeling among the people ? You have leave to speak the 
 
 truth. 
 Chiropodist : Your Majesty is too gracious. The people, your Majesty, 
 
 do not wish for war. 
 Ruler : The Minister of War assures me they do. 
 Chiropodist : The people, your Majesty, will regard the decision of their 
 
 King as the will of God. [Bowing over the royal foot.] 
 Ruler : You are a clever fellow. You might go far. 
 Chiropodist [with inomentary expansion] : My hump has stood in my light, 
 
 your Majesty. 
 Ruler : There is a saying of my great ancestor, "It is lucky to have a 
 
 hunch-back near you." 
 Chiropodist : Yes, your Majesty, the common proverb says : "A hump 
 
 is a misery to him who hath it, but it fills him of the straight back with 
 
 contentment." 
 Ruler : We all have our compensations. 
 Chiropodist : Yes, your Majesty, my mother always had a premonition 
 
 that before I died a great honour would be conferred on me. 
 
 93 
 
Ruler : I shouldn't wonder. By the by, I should like to keep you near 
 me to-night. Your hump may bring me luck. I have to make a 
 momentous decision. Now listen to me. I trust you — you have availed 
 yourself of my permission to be truthful. I do not trust all my ser- 
 vants. Will you look to the wine to-night ? [The Chiropodist cringes 
 assent^ The royal Dukes and my Ministers are to dine at my table. 
 Be near me to-night, my little hunch-back. 
 
 [The Chiropodist kisses the royal toes in deep obeisance. 
 
 The Ruler of a Great People exits to his dressing-room. 
 
 The Chiropodist rises] 
 Chiropodist : It has come — the day, their day, my day ! God of my fathers, 
 keep me from madness. Mother, hold my hand from out of your 
 grave \ You said it should be ! My hunger can be stilled — I can almost 
 straighten my back with pride. [He crosses himself beneath the image 
 of the Virgin.] Help me in my hour. There are two roads — which 
 shall I take ? I have learned to flatter— it is my profession — I have 
 walked across the plank — I am there — my ambition, my little ambition 
 can be requited. I have blackmailed the world — I am in its palace. 
 The open road is in front of me at last. I can move step by step, as 
 others have done, nearer the throne — and then, who knows ? But 
 there is another road — the road where humanity toils or trudges — the 
 road my father and mother trod when I was a little child. It was the 
 revolution — my mother was torn from my father's arms — before his 
 eyes she was degraded by the soldiery — then they shot him for an 
 anarchist. This hump of mine — a soldier struck me with his gun — my 
 shoulder shattered. In our exile every night my mother would stroke 
 my back while she prayed that God would straighten me. She starved 
 that she might sprinkle my hump with holy water. And here I am 
 what I am. This is my moment — shall I fall to ease, to comfort, and 
 convenience ? I whose father shrieked for freedom as he fell. This 
 war — I can prevent it. I sec it coming on — I am not blind as those that 
 make war^ — war for the vanity of a King, who made God in his own 
 image. War for greed of commerce. Hundreds, thousands, millions 
 of lives will be lost to satisfy the lust of five men ! Can five hundred 
 years of happiness compensate for one year's spoil of a monarch's sport ì 
 An Emperor of the Shambles declares war to make a madman's holiday. 
 I can hear the yells of the poor deluded men in the trenches — they 
 call it glory ! I can see their stark bodies mangled and twisted in the 
 frozen mud — they call it glory ! I can smell the stench of their decay 
 wafting disease through the land in the spring that is coming — they 
 call it glory ! I can read the outpourings of their hireling professors. 
 I hear Christ's priests chanting their blessings on the holocausts — they 
 call it glory ! The moans of millions of mothers go up to God, un- 
 heeded by man. My mind is a mirage of ruined cathedrals, of de- 
 vastated homes, of spectres of famished peoples — all these I see — they 
 
 <;4 
 
call it glory ! My little hand can stay all this. [He takes from his box 
 the little bottle labelled " Poison.''] Here is my ally — a few drops of this 
 in his liqueur to-night, and it is done. [He tastes the poison.] Revenge 
 is sweet ! I shall be the undying benefactor of mankind. After all, he 
 is only one man, like myself. He who cuts the corns of a monarch 
 knows the equality of man. Murder — yes. To kill one man is to be a 
 murderer — to kill ten thousand is to be a hero ! Strange is the logic of 
 the world ! What is he then who murders one to save millions ? [He 
 takes up his paraphernalia a?id exits.] 
 
 [The scetie changes to the private dining-roo?ti of the great 
 Ruler. Seated round the table are Princes, Cabinet 
 Ministers, a Professor, and a Priest. It is the end of 
 dinner. There are signs of debauchery. The Ruler, 
 steeped in wine, gazes before him with pale eyes. Papers 
 are in front of him and an ink-stand, into which he dips his 
 pen irresolutely . The clock strikes tzvelve. 
 
 War Minister : At twelve the decision was to be given — it has already 
 struck, 
 
 A Prince : Octavian, sign. 
 
 [The Ruler hesitates and takes a liqueur from the hands of 
 the now resplendent Chiropodist.] 
 
 Prime Minister : It is time to sign, your Majesty. 
 
 Ruler : I am thinking. 
 
 Prime Minister : A King should never think, your Majesty, when he knows 
 his power. It is two minutes past the hour — history is rushing by. 
 You are two minutes less powerful than you were at midnight. 
 
 War Minister : Might is right. 
 
 Ruler : Is Might always right ? [Turning to elderly Priest.] Father, you 
 have often told me that the true divine right of kings is peace. What 
 did you say in your sermon during the Peace Conference ? If the sacred 
 head of the State were to pronounce himself to the world as the leader 
 of Peace — if he will declare himself — if he will proclaim that the highest 
 prerogative of kings — that their true Divine right is universal peace — 
 if in his greatness he will carry this ideal into effect, then he will go 
 down the centuries not only as King of his land, not only as Emperor 
 of the globe, but as the temporal saviour of mankind. Those were 
 your words, father Surely God is good. 
 
 Priest : Yes, your Majesty, very good. But now we are talking war. The 
 needs of your people sanctify the sacrifice of your ideals. 
 
 Ruler : I am wondering, at what point a King is justified for the sake of 
 his country in sacrificing his ideals. [He takes another liqueur^ 
 
 Priest : His conscience must decide. 
 
 Professor : Ideals are only official ideals when they have concrete foun- 
 dations. Ideals must be backed by cannon, or left alone. With all 
 submission to your Majesty, man is but a brute — we all devour each 
 
 95 
 
other if we can. Our rivals are sunk in the sloth of what is called 
 humanitarianism. The new religion of so-called thinkers and feelers 
 threatens to become a force which may so miseducate the masses, that 
 the workmen of the world may sweep away our own Culture of in- 
 tellectual materialism by a universal strike for peace. This new* move- 
 ment, whose praise is being sung by poets and seers, must be throttled 
 before its growth shall have become a menace to our fatherland. Al- 
 ready the people are singing the hymns of the new religion of humanity 
 in secret places. Socialism is rife in our land. Now is the moment 
 to crush it for a hundred years and so preserve the ancient dynasty of 
 which your Majesty is God's chosen head, and secure the supremacy 
 of our race. 
 
 [Great cheers ring out from the Square from many thousand 
 voices. Here and there angry imprecations too are heard. 
 The cheers come nearer and nearer and the jingle-jingle of 
 approaching cavalry is heard below ^ 
 Ruler : Are they cheering me ? 
 
 Chorus of Ministers and Princes [surrounding the Ruler] : They are 
 cheering the war. They are cheering the Prince — he waves his hand 
 to them. 
 Ruler : Ingrates — is my popularity then waning ? 
 Prime Minister [his watch in hand] : You are twelve minutes and fifteen 
 
 seconds less popular than you were at midnight, your Majesty. 
 Ruler [twisting the quill pen in his hand] : That is the voice of the people ! 
 Priest : Vox populi. Vox Dei ! 
 War Minister : It is the voice of the Army ! 
 
 [The royal Dukes a7id Ministers, Priest, ««^Professor 
 
 surround the Ruler, cajoling, flattering, and brow-beating 
 
 him in turn. A military band blares out the National Hymn 
 
 in which a hundred thousand voices join. Ruler takes the 
 
 pen once tnore ; nerving himself to the great effort, he 
 
 beckons to the Chiropodist, who makes to serve the liqueur] 
 
 Chiropodist : Now is my moment ! [Taking from his pocket the little bottle 
 
 labelled " Poison," he is about to pour it into the glass when a royal Duke 
 
 approaches him with something glittering in his hand] 
 
 Royal Duke [to Chiropodist) : In recognition of your valuable services 
 
 His Majesty desires me to confer upon you the order of the Golden 
 
 Lamb, of the second class. [Pins decoration on his breast] 
 
 Chiropodist [overcome, mechanically as in a dream, he clasps the bauble 
 
 in his hand, then hesitates, gasping] : O Mother, Mother ! 
 Ruler : It is war ! 
 Chiropodist : Let it rip ! [He spills the poison on the floor] 
 
 [The Ruler of a Great People signs the Ultimatum. 
 The Chiropodist shrugs his hump.] 
 The Curtain falls, 
 96 
 
By GENERAL BOOTH 
 
 Sire, 
 
 Have this consolation in the supreme agony of your dynasty and of your 
 
 people, that you have enthused with new life and force the great principle 
 
 that men ought not only to love their country, but their kind. 
 
 We of the Salvation Army pray God that His great Salvation may strengthen 
 
 you ever to honour Him in Mercy and Righteousness. 
 
 By PREBENDARY WILSON CARLILE 
 
 DAVID has fought Goliath. The victory is not yet, but it is coming. The 
 God of Battles will avenge His shattered houses, the burned and ruined 
 homes, the trampled harvest fields, the slaughtered, outraged, tormented, 
 exiled people, for their cry has reached Him in His Holy Place. Though 
 the time be long, we shall most surely see a new Belgium arise from the 
 ashes of war, purified, made more noble and strong, uplifted by the fiery 
 trial. And although so many of her soldiers, and others of her bravest and 
 best, must sleep until the Archangel shall sound réveillé, yet their blood 
 has not been shed in vain, for their spirit lives for evermore. God give 
 strength to Belgium's King, people, and Allies to fight on in this righteous 
 cause until complete victory crowns the struggle, made holy by the blood 
 and tears of so great a multitude. y. 
 
 By ALMA E. BELMONT 
 
 IN expressing my sympathy with the Belgian nation, I am compelled to 
 say there can be no being from any realm calling itself human but feels its 
 very life-blood pulsate with grief and its heart overflow with love for the 
 great manhood of this stricken nation. Words seem poor and lame. This 
 display of courage, this will to carry Right against Might, this defence of 
 country and home, calls for action, imitation. 
 
 What is any nation, what are any people doing, who stand idly aside, and 
 by their inertia and fear of injury to themselves, permit murder, pillage, 
 and wilful destruction of a land of peace, of honest industry, of a God- 
 fearing race ? What are we doing in Washington ? Where is our boasted 
 civilisation ? Where is Christianity ? Is not our brother being annihi- 
 lated ? Why is not our hand stretched out to shield him ? How much 
 longer will the strong and mighty stand aside and see the brave and free 
 trampled under foot by a monster power intoxicated with arrogance ? If 
 the United States believes in democracy ; if she stands for States' rights ; 
 if she believes in the defence of national honour and political liberty, the 
 crime committed against Belgium demands such action from our great 
 Republic that this murderous carnage shall stop. 
 
 98 
 
By FLORENCE L. BARCLAY 
 In Hoc Vince 
 
 To His Majesty the King of the Belgians 
 Sire, 
 
 AS my contribution to the tribute of universal sympathy and admiration 
 now presented to Your Majesty, I have been asked to write a short story, 
 bearing upon the great events of the past months. 
 
 In humbly accepting this privilege, I cannot but be conscious that this is 
 not a time for fiction ; therefore the story which I now have the honour of 
 offering to Your Majesty is fact — true in its main details — given as it reached 
 me, in the sublime simplicity of a soldier's letter from the front. 
 ***** 
 
 During the masterly retreat of the allied forces after the battle of Mons, a 
 young British officer was ordered to round up stragglers in a small town,, 
 which had just been evacuated by our troops. 
 
 There was no time to lose. The enemy, in overwhelming force, was sweep- 
 ing down upon the defenceless place. Shells were falling on all sides. 
 The distant rumble of a relentless approach drew, every moment nearer. 
 The young officer, marching his little company rapidly along the deserted 
 streets, crossed a cobbled square, and came upon a municipal building,, 
 temporarily converted into a hospital. 
 He stepped within. 
 
 " Any men here, able to march ? " he began — then paused abruptly and 
 looked around him. 
 
 There was no question of stragglers, here. 
 
 Scores of wounded and of dying lay helpless upon the floor, each where 
 he had been hurriedly placed. 
 
 A little party of British Red Cross nurses moved among them, doing their 
 utmost to tend, relieve, and comfort. 
 
 While the tall youth in khaki stood silent in the doorway, a shell shrilled over 
 the building, crashed into a house close by, and burst with a deafening noise. 
 A moment of tense silence. Then a Tommy laughed. 
 "' It'll save the doctors trouble, if a few of them things come in here," he 
 said. " Do our amputating for nothing, they will ! " 
 The Sister in charge of the little band of English nurses chanced to be 
 kneeling near the door, supporting the head of a dying lad. He pushed 
 away the cup she was holding to his lips and gazed into her face, sudden 
 terror in his eyes. 
 
 " They won't shoot on the Red Cross, will they, nurse ? " he whispered. 
 " Ain't we safe under the flag ? " 
 
 Her quiet smile was reassuring. " Perfectly safe, my lad. Don't you worry. 
 Drink this, and lie still." 
 
 Then, looking up, she saw the young officer standing in the doorway. 
 He raised his hand in salute. 
 
 " I suppose there is nothing I can do," he said. " I am rounding up stragglers. 
 
 99 
 
and marching them out. But nobody here could do any marching. Shall 
 
 I take a message through for you ? I'll send back help, if possible." 
 
 Kneeling there, with the dying boy's head upon her arm, she looked steadily 
 
 at him, and it struck him that he had never before met eyes so full of a calm 
 
 and steadfast courage. 
 
 " We are all right," she said, slipping a folded jacket beneath the head she 
 
 was supporting ; " quite all right — doing famously ! " 
 
 But the next moment she was beside him in the doorway, and had caught 
 
 him by the arm. 
 
 " Don't go ! " she whispered. " For God's sake, don't go ! I need help ; 
 
 and you must help me." 
 
 " Do you want to get out of this ? " asked the young officer, speaking 
 
 hurriedly, and very low. 
 
 The Englishwoman looked at him. 
 
 " Oh, I say, I beg your pardon ! Of course I know you wouldn't leave them. 
 
 Tell me how I can help. What can I do ? " 
 
 " Listen," she said. " There is not a moment to lose. Did you notice 
 
 the roof of this building, as you crossed the square ? There's a flagstaff 
 
 and cord, all complete ; but no flag. Do you understand ? No Red Cross 
 
 flag. And the Germans are beginning to shell the town. You must find 
 
 me a Red Cross flag, and hoist it, before you go." 
 
 The young officer stood beside her, uncertain, perplexed ; dismay in his 
 
 honest eyes. 
 
 " I'm awfully sorry," he said. " But I have no Red Cross flag ; and, for 
 
 the life of me, I don't know where to get one." 
 
 " Then you must make one," she urged. " We have over a hundred wounded 
 
 men under this roof." She shook him by the sleeve. " Can't you contrive 
 
 something ? Can't you think of something ? Can't you make me a Red 
 
 Cross flag ? " 
 
 The boy stood for a moment in stern thought. All the man in him awoke, 
 
 eager to meet this woman's desperate need. 
 
 His eye travelled slowly round the bare, unfurnished hall. At length it 
 
 rested on the floor. 
 
 Suddenly he started. She saw him hesitate. Then his face grew firm and 
 
 purposeful. 
 
 " Give me half a sheet," he said, " and some bandages." 
 
 He helped her to tear the sheet in two. 
 
 At sound of the sharp rending, many eyes turned their way. 
 
 He spread the sheet upon the floor, and held out his hand for the bandages. 
 
 " Give me some pins," he said, huskily ; " plenty of them. Then leave 
 
 the rest to me. This is my job." 
 
 All at once she knew what he was going to do ; and she, who had times 
 
 without number faced unspeakable sights without flinching, turned away 
 
 while, stooping, he dipped the bandages in the blood which lay in pools 
 
 upon the floor. 
 
 100 
 
When she looked again, he was on his knees, carefully pinning the crimson 
 strips across the white sheet. 
 
 Her hand flew to her throat, striving to control an irrepressible sob. 
 He had not recognised her, in her nurse's uniform, but at first sight she 
 had known him, and now vividly recalled the scene of their former meeting 
 — a sunny cricket-field in England ; he, in spotless flannels, the hero of 
 the hour, winning a match for his school eleven. She had sat beside his 
 mother and watched her pride in the gay, handsome boy. All eyes had 
 been bent upon him, as he hit out straight and true, made the winning 
 stroke, and carried his bat for top score in the match. 
 And now ... As he knelt in his stained khaki, dying eyes watched, in 
 the quiet calm of a strange detachment, the making of that Red Cross flag. 
 Wounded men rolled over, raised themselves on their elbows, and smiled 
 in grim approval. 
 
 After that one choking sob she also smiled bravely back at them. 
 Her flag was ready. 
 
 He rose to his feet. " Now then ! Show me the way to the roof, please. 
 No — I can carry it. No need for you to touch it. Sister. This is my show." 
 She stood beside him on the roof. 
 
 As he drew the cord taut and fastened it, the breeze caught and unfurled 
 the heavy folds of the sheet, and, slowly opening out, the Red Cross flew, 
 clear and unmistakable, in the sunshine. 
 She laid her hand once more upon the khaki sleeve. 
 
 " God bless you," she said, a tremor of emotion in her quiet voice. " And, 
 when you write home, don't forget to tell your mother of this thing which 
 you have done." 
 
 Half an hour later, as he marched his men, under cover of a wood, over 
 the crest of the hill, the young officer stepped out for a moment into a 
 clearing and looked back upon the little town. 
 
 German shells were falling to right and left ; but above the hospital flew 
 the Red Cross flag, brave in the breeze, bright in the gold of the sunset ; 
 and the wounded lay beneath, sheltered by the crimson of their own life- 
 blood. 
 
 ^Ùl&^-t^jZ^. (/ÒCLM/Cxy 
 
 By THE Rt. Hon. THOMAS BURT 
 
 HEARTILY do I associate myself with you in expressions of appreciation 
 
 of the Belgian people and their heroic King. 
 
 G* lOI 
 
By J. C. CHRISTENSSEN 
 
 BELGIENS Strobne vakker den stórste Medfólelse i vort Folk. Hvis den 
 belgiske Konge og haus Folk ikke foar Oprejsunig for alt, hvad de nu mon 
 lide, da synes, at Retfordigheden trœdes ned, og at Talen om den eoropaiske 
 Kultur mon forstumme. Vovire Fólelsen opróves son meget mere, sorn vi 
 selv er et lille Folk, der altid mon appellere til Retfordigheds fólelsen og 
 Hójsindet hos andre. 
 
 TRANSLATION by C. A. Bang 
 
 The fate of Belgium azvakes in our nation the greatest talk about the European Kultur must become mute. 
 
 sympathy. If the Belgian King and his people do Our feelings are roused so much the more as we onr- 
 
 not get redress for all thev are now suffering, then it selves are also a small nation, who must always appeal 
 
 seems to us that justice is trampled down and that all to the righteousness and highmindedness of others. 
 
 By THE Rt. Hon. SYED AMEER ALI 
 
 I DESIRE to express my deepest sympathy for the undeserved sufferings 
 of the Belgian nation. I cannot help feeling that Belgium, which had 
 wronged no one and simply stood on her own rights, has been cruelly 
 treated by a powerful nation to whom she might naturally have looked for 
 protection and help. One searches in vain for any justification for the 
 ruthlessness with which the armies of Germany, who claimed to stand in 
 the forefront of the civilised world, have conducted themselves in unhappy 
 Belgium. The country devastated, ancient seats of learning rendered 
 desolate, the people driven from their homes for refuge in distant lands 
 make the heart throb with infinite sorrow and pain. 
 
 The sorrow I feel for her is shared by the whole world — no less by Moslems 
 than by Christians. 
 
 By ARTHUR C. BENSON 
 
 ABOVE all we must keep in the forefront of our minds the immense debt 
 we owe to Belgium for her staunch fidelity and for the supreme heroism 
 of her army. Never has a small and peaceable nation risen more nobly to 
 a great occasion. We must ease the strain upon Belgium by every means 
 in our power, welcome and comfort her refugees, house them, feed them, 
 take them to our hearts ; and we must also resolve that when the time cornes 
 we must undergo any sacrifice to repay them for their splendid public spirit 
 and their generous sacrifices. We cannot heal their griefs or remove their 
 sufferings ; but we can do all that human kindness and liberality can do 
 to atone for the sickening wrongs which have been done them, and show our 
 gratitude for the loyalty which has indeed been faithful unto death. God 
 bless and reward Belgium ! q/ 
 
 102 
 
By ANNIE VIVANTI CHARTRES 
 
 The Broken Rose 
 To King Albert 
 
 Shy, youthful, silent — and misunderstood 
 
 In the zvhite glare oj Kinghood thou didst stand. 
 
 The sceptre iti thy hand 
 
 Seemed but aflozver the Fates had tossed to thee y 
 
 And thou zvert called, perchance half -scornfully, 
 
 Albert the Good. 
 
 To-day thou siandest on a blackened grave, 
 Thy broken sword still lifted to the skies. 
 Thy pure and fearless eyes 
 Gaze into Death's grim visage unappalled 
 And by the storm-swept nations thou art called 
 Albert the Brave. 
 
 Tossed Oil a blood-red sea of rage and hate 
 
 The frenzied world rolls forward to its doom. 
 
 But high above the gloom 
 
 Flashes the fulgent beacon of thy fame. 
 
 The nations thou hast saved exalt thy name — 
 
 Albert the Great ! 
 
 *M, M, M, ^ 
 
 •7Ï* W W TÎ" 
 
 Albert the good, the brave, the great, thy land 
 
 Lies at thy feet, a crushed and morient rose 
 
 Trampled ajid desecrated by thy foes. 
 
 One day a greater Belgium will be born. 
 
 But what of this dead Belgium wracked and torn ? 
 
 What of this rose flung out upon the sand ? . . . 
 
 Behold ! Afar zvhere sky and waters meet 
 
 A white-robed Figure zvalketh on the sea. 
 
 (Peace goes before Him and her face is szceet.) 
 
 As once He trod the zvaves of Galilee 
 
 He comes again — the tumult sinks to rest, 
 
 The stormy waters shine beneath His feet. 
 
 103 
 
He sees the dead rose lying in the sand, 
 He lifts the dead rose in His holy hand 
 And lays it at His breast. 
 
 O broken rose oj Belgium, thou art blest 
 
 By GERTRUDE ATHERTON 
 
 WE have experienced so many emotions in America in the course of this 
 terrible war that it would be difficult, had not Germany violated the neu- 
 trality of Belgium, to assert definitely what has been our dominant sensation. 
 But, as it is, I think I can safely speak for my countrymen, and state that 
 nothing has so horrified us and aroused our indignation and sympathies 
 as the cruel fate of this valiant httle country. 
 
 Above all, no chapter of the war, as yet presented to us, has so excited our 
 admiration as well as our profound respect. We are the only country, 
 owing to our geographical position as well as to our facilities, that has been 
 able to look at all sides of the European imbroglio from the beginning ; and 
 propaganda has made no impression whatever upon us. We have had the 
 opportunity to make up our own minds, and, wholly out of order. as this 
 would appear in certain quarters, we believe ourselves to be quite equal to 
 this feat without exterior assistance. We know, among many other things, 
 that the magnificent resistance at Liege upset all the long-matured plans of 
 the German War Office, and that had Belgium proved either weak or 
 ignoble, the history of the war would be very different reading to-day. 
 I venture to say that every town in the United States, big and little, has its 
 Belgian relief society, even if it does not spread beyond the dimensions of 
 the weekly sewing circle ; and that the most consistent democrat in the 
 country takes oft" his hat to King Albert of Belgium. The Americans are 
 always alert to recognise a MAN, and are capable of being quite indifferent 
 to the niche presented to him by destiny. What he does in that niche is 
 the point. If the result of this upheaval is a great European Republic (I 
 refer of course to the Continent) I feel positive that if the people of the 
 United States of America were allowed to vote, the popular candidate would 
 be King Albert of Belgium. 
 
 104 
 
By ROBERT HICHENS 
 
 The End of Little Belgium 
 
 WHEN war began and the German army appeared before the forts of Liege, 
 
 the world said, " This will be the end of little Belgium." There was deep 
 
 pity in all hearts, but with it was mingled a certain sense of the impotence 
 
 of the tiny nation confronted by the brutal might of Germany. 
 
 I heard two men in a London street discussing the question of the opening 
 
 war and the tragic situation of the Belgians. One of them, with a twist of 
 
 his shoulders, said, " What on earth can they do ? " The other man replied, 
 
 " The right thing, and that's what they're going to do." 
 
 The little nation had decided. The guns of Liege opened fire. " The 
 
 martyrdom of Belgium," as it has been called, began. Men, women, and 
 
 even children were slain. Villages and cities were burned. Thousands 
 
 were wounded ; tens of thousands were rendered homeless. 
 
 And people said, " Unhappy Belgium ! " 
 
 Where has that exclamation not been uttered ? Even in Germany it has 
 
 come from the lips of Germans, and from time to time the ruler of Germany 
 
 sent to the ruler of Belgium suggestions of peace. " Haven't you had 
 
 enough of doing the right thing ? " The answer was " No." And more 
 
 human beings were slain, and more villages were burned, and more 
 
 families were driven out homeless and starving to live how and where they 
 
 could. 
 
 But people said no more, " Unhappy Belgium ! " 
 
 Strangely, as the tragedy deepened and darkened, the world almost ceased 
 
 from pitying. " Wonderful Belgium !" we said. And the days and the 
 
 nights went by, and the roar of battle drew nearer to our coasts. And 
 
 still the Belgians went on obstinately doing the right thing. Antwerp 
 
 fell. 
 
 The Belgian army avoided capture and retreated. All that " was left of it " 
 
 was said to have passed into France, and the English papers announced 
 
 that it would " rest " for awhile to recover spirit and strength after its 
 
 terrible trials and exertions. 
 
 Not many hours later the world knew that it was still in Belgium, attacking 
 
 the German army with fierce tenacity, and giving splendid help to the Allies. 
 
 Its King was with it, and its Queen was not far oft\ 
 
 Since then people speak of " Glorious Belgium ! " 
 
 The pilgrimage has been accomplished and the peaks have been gained. 
 
 How then can we pity Belgium ? 
 
 I went among the crowds of refugees at Folkestone, and sat in the midst 
 
 of sick Belgian soldiers. I talked to old and young, to non-combatants and 
 
 fighting men, and I gathered from my experiences a dominant impression, 
 
 which was not an impression of despair. Misery of the body there was. 
 
 But the far deeper, the far more terrible misery of the soul was so seldom 
 
 apparent that it could not be said with truth, " This is a nation in despair. 
 
 This is a ruined nation." 
 
 105 
 
The simple fact is that through all this tragedy Belgium has been upheld by 
 the splendid knowledge that " little Belgium " is no more. When the first 
 shot was fired from the forts of Liege a little nation died, but a nation that 
 is great was born. 
 
 .i-^^ 
 
 By JEAN RICHEPIN 
 
 Au Peuple Belge et a son Rot 
 
 EN place de la fausse grande nation, qui prétendait asservir toutes les autres 
 et les modeler à l'image de ses cuistres mâtinés de tortionnaires, c'est toi, 
 vaillant, loyal, généreux et sublime petit pays, dont il faut ériger l'image en 
 exemple à tous les pays. Peuple dont l'histoire est une incessante leçon 
 de labeur, d'indépendance et d'héroïsme ; peuple dont la terre est la plus 
 peuplée du monde ; peuple où fleurissent à la fois toutes les cultures, 
 matérielles et morales, l'industrie, le commerce, les arts, les lettres ; peuple 
 des belles cathédrales, des splendides hôtels de ville, des musées incom- 
 parables ; peuple comptant parmi ses fils le poète et philosophe Maeter- 
 linck qui vient de vouer l'âme allemande à l'extermination, et le noble 
 bourgmestre Max qui tint tête à Von der Goltz, et enfin le magnanime Roi 
 Albert, qui dort dans la tranchée après y avoir fait le coup de feu avec ses 
 soldats, le Roi Albert, parfaite incarnation de l'âme belge ; ô peuple des 
 bons travailleurs, des grands artistes, des braves guerriers, peuple de vrais 
 hommes, c'est toi qui portes, à cette heure de l'histoire, dans tes poings de 
 martyr et de héros, le palladium de l'Humanité. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 To the Belgian People and to their King, 
 In place of that false great 7iation, which aspired to 
 subjugate all others atid mould them in the image 
 of its ozvn ideal — a combination of pedant and in- 
 quisitor — it is thine image, O valiant, loyal, generous, 
 and sublime little land, which should be set up as an 
 example to all other countries. People whose history 
 is a perpetual lesson of labour, independence, and 
 heroism ; people whose country is the most densely 
 populated in the world ; people among whom every kind 
 of culture, material and moral, flourishes : industry, 
 commerce, art, and letters ; people of beautiful 
 
 ^^ IaL-^ o jja.^)L^i,jy^' i:.k^I^J77=^ 
 
 cathedrals, of splendid i07sn-halls, of incomparable 
 museums ; people counting among your sons the 
 poet and philosopher Maeterlinck, who has condemned 
 the German spirit to extermination ; the noble Burgo- 
 masley Max, who held out against Von der Gcltz ; 
 and lastly, the magnanimous King Albert, who sleeps 
 in the trenches after fighting in them with his soldiers, 
 King Albert, the perfect incarnation of the Belgian 
 soul. O people of good workers, of great artists, of 
 brave warriors, people of true men, it is you who at 
 this hour of history bear the palladium of Humanity 
 in your martyred and heroic hands. 
 
 1 06 
 
By ROMAIN ROLLAND 
 
 LA Belgique vient d'écrire un chant d'épopée, dont les échos retentiront 
 dans les siècles. Comme les trois cents Spartiates la petite armée belge 
 tenant tête, trois mois, au colosse germanique — Léman — Léonidas — les 
 Thermopyles de Liège — Louvain, comme Troie, brûlée — la geste du Roi 
 Albert entouré de ses preux — quelle ampleur légendaire ont déjà ces figures 
 que l'histoire n'a pas encore fini de dessiner 1 L'héroïsme de ce peuple qui 
 s'est, sans une plainte, sacrifié tout entier pour sauver son honneur, a éclaté 
 comme un coup de tonnerre en un temps où l'esprit de l'Allemagne 
 victorieuse faisait régner sur le monde la conception d'un réalisme politique, 
 lourdement appuyé sur la force et l'intérêt. C'a été une libération de 
 l'idéalisme opprimé de l'Occident. Et que le signal ait été donné par cette 
 petite nation a semblé un miracle. 
 
 Les hommes appellent miracle l'apparition subite d'une réalité cachée. 
 C'est le brusque danger qui fait le mieux connaître les invidus et les peuples. 
 Combien de découvertes cette guerre nous a fait faire parmi ceux qui nous 
 entourent, et même parmi ceux qui nous touchent de plus près ! Que de 
 cœurs de héros et que de bêtes féroces ! L'âme profonde se révèle — ce 
 n'est pas une âme nouvelle. 
 
 En cette heure redoutable, la Belgique a vu soudain surgir le génie caché 
 de sa race. La valeur qu'elle a montrée, dans ces trois derniers mois, 
 frappe d'admiration ; elle ne doit pas surprendre qui a senti, dans l'histoire, 
 couler à travers le temps la sève abondante de ce peuple — petit par le nombre 
 et l'espace — l'un des plus grands d'Europe par sa vitalité de fleuve débordant. 
 L'héroïsme des Belges d'aujourd'hui est le même que celui des Flamands 
 de Courtrai. Les hommes de cette terre n'ont jamais craint d'affronter 
 leurs puissants voisins, rois de France ou d'Espagne — tout à tour héros et 
 victimes, Artevelde et Egmont. Ce sol qu'a détrempé le sang de millions 
 de combattants est le plus fécond d'Europe en moissons de l'esprit. C'est 
 de lui qu'est sorti l'art de la peinture moderne, que l'école des Van Eyck 
 rayonna sur le monde, au temps de la Renaissance. C'est de lui qu'est 
 sorti l'art de la musique moderne, de cette polyphonie qui ruissela sur la 
 France, l'Allemagne et l'Italie, pendant près de deux siècles. C'est de lui 
 qu'est sortie cette superbe floraison poétique d'aujourd'hui ; et les deux 
 écrivains qui représentent à présent avec le plus d'éclat les lettres françaises 
 dans l'univers, Maeterlinck et Verhaeren, sont fils de la Belgique. C'est le 
 peuple qui a le plus souff'ert et le plus vaillamment, le plus gaiement sup- 
 porté, le peuple martyr de Philippe II et du Kaiser Wilhelm ; et c'est le 
 peuple de Rubens, le peuple des Kermesses et de Till Ulenspiegel. 
 Qui connaît l'étonnante épopée, qu'a reprise et chantée Charles de Coster, 
 les Aventures héroïques, joyeuses et glorieuses d' Ulenspiegel et de Lamme 
 Goedjak, ces deux gaillards de Flandre, dignes de marcher de pair avec 
 l'immortel Don Quichotte et son Sancho Panca— qui a vu à l'œuvre cet 
 indomptable esprit, rude et facétieux, révolté de nature, qui fronde toutes 
 les puissances, qui traverse toutes les épreuves, et qui en sort toujours, 
 
 107 
 
guilleret et riant — celui-là connaît aussi les destinées du peuple qui enfanta 
 
 Ulenspiegel, et il regarde sans crainte, même aux heures les plus sombres, 
 
 l'aurore prochaine des jours de richesse et de liesse. 
 
 La Belgique peut être envahie. Le peuple belge ne sera jamais ni conquis 
 
 ni soumis. Le peuple belge ne peut mourir. 
 
 A la fin du récit de Till Ulenspiegel, alors qu'on le croit mort et qu'on va 
 
 l'enterrer, il se réveille : 
 
 " Est-ce qu'on enterre, dit-il, Ulenspiegel l'esprit, Nele le cœur de la mère 
 Flandre ? Dormir, soit ; niais mourir, non ! Viens, Nele ! " 
 Et il partit avec elle, en chantant sa sixième chanson. Mais nul tie sait oil 
 il chaiita sa dernière. 
 
 \l 
 
 W«^ Ç^Ays^ 
 
 TRANSLATION hy Florer.ce Simmmàs 
 Belgium bas just written an Epic, the echoes of which 
 will resound throughout the ages. Like the three 
 hundred SpartMts, the little Belgian army holding at 
 bay for three months the gigantic hosts of Germany ; 
 Leman — Leonidas ; the Thermopylœ of Liège ; 
 Louvain, burnt like Troy ; the deeds of King Albert 
 surrounded by his valiant men ; what legendary 
 grandeur already encircles these figures, whose 
 tale history has not yet completed ! The heroism 
 of this people who, without a murmur, sacrificed 
 everything for honour, burst like a thunderclap upon 
 usât a time tchen the spirit of victorious Germany zvas 
 offering to the world a conception of political realism, 
 resting stolidly on force and self-interest. It was 
 the liberation of the oppressed idealistn of the West. 
 And it seemed a miracle that the signal should have 
 been given by this little nation. 
 
 Men call the sudden appearance of a hidden reality 
 a miracle. The shock of danger brings out the true 
 character of individuals and nations. What reve- 
 lations this war has made in those around us, 
 aye, even among those nearest and dearest to us ! 
 Wltat heroic hearts and what savage beasts I The 
 inner soul reveals itself. It is no new soul. 
 In this crucial hour Belgium has seen the hidden 
 genius of her race suddenly emerge. The courage 
 that she has shown during the last three months evokes 
 admiration ; it shoidd not surprise any one who, in 
 the pages of history, has felt the vigorous sap of her 
 people fiozving through the ages. Small in space end 
 numbers, she is one of the greatest nations in Europe 
 in her abounding vitality. The heroism of the 
 Belgians of to-day is the same as that of the Flemings 
 of Courtrai. The men of that province never feared 
 to oppose their powerftd neighbours, the Kings of 
 France or Spain — now heroes and nozc victims, 
 Arteveldes or Egmonts. Their soil, watered by the 
 blood of millions of warriors, is the most fertile in 
 Europe in the harvests of the soul. From it sprang 
 
 the art of modern painting, which the school of the 
 Van Eycks spread throughout the world at the time 
 of the Renaissance, and the art of modern music, of 
 that polyphony which thrilled through France, 
 Germany, and Italy for nearly two centuries. It has 
 give?! us the great poetic efflorescence of our times ; 
 and the two writers who ?nost brilliantly represent 
 French literature in the world, Maeterlinck and 
 Verhaeren, are sons of Belgium. They are the 
 people zvho have suffered ?nost and have borne their 
 sufferings most bravely and cheerfully ; the Martyr- 
 Nation of Philip II and of Kaiser Wilhelm ; and 
 they are the people of Rubens, the people of Kermesses 
 and of Till Ulenspiegel. 
 
 He loho knoius that amazing epic re-told and sung by 
 Charles de Coster : The heroic, joyous, and glorious 
 adventures of Ulenspiegel and Lammé Goedjak, 
 those two Fletnish worthies who might take their 
 places side by side with the iììimortal Don Quixote 
 and his Sancho Panza — he who has seen that 
 dauntless spirit at work, rough and facetious, rebel- 
 lious in grain, always in opposition to established 
 powers, accepting all hardships and emerging from 
 them gay ami smiling — believes in the future destinies 
 of the nation that gave birth to Ulenspiegel, and even 
 in the darkest hours will fearlessly await the approach- 
 ing dazi'H of great and happy days. 
 Belgium may be invaded. The Belgian people will 
 never be conquered nor crushed. The Belgian people 
 cannot die. 
 
 At the end of the story of Till Ulenspiegel, wheti they 
 think he is dead, and are going to bury him, he wakes 
 up : 
 
 " Are they going to bury Ulenspiegel the soul, 
 Nele, the heart of Mother Flanders ? Sleep, 
 perhaps ; but die, no ! Come, Nele," said he. 
 And he departed with her, singing his sixth 
 song. But no one knows where he saag lUb 
 last. 
 
 1 08 
 
By AUSTIN DOBSON 
 To Belgium 
 
 For Right not Might you fought. The joe, 
 Checked in his wild World-overthrow, 
 
 Ravaged, with his remorseless hand. 
 
 Your ancient janes and peacejid land, 
 Thinking to crush you at a blow ! 
 
 You are not crushed — as well we know. 
 Ij you are trodden, 'tis to grow ; 
 
 Nor shall they jail at last who stand 
 For Right, not Might ! 
 
 God speed you, Belgium ! Time will show 
 How large a debt to You we owe ; 
 
 To You, through all reverses grand — 
 Men stretch to-day a gratejul hand : 
 God speed you still — in weal and woe — 
 
 For Right, not Might ! /^Zu^^^^^/^^^^^^^-^ 
 
 By EDWARD CARPENTER 
 
 To the Land and People of Belgium 
 
 AFTER all, dear Land and People of Belgium, do not be dismayed by all 
 
 this that has come upon you, but have good courage and hope for the future. 
 
 Mad violence and monstrous warfare may truly have damaged and crippled 
 
 your body ; but they have not destroyed, and I do not think that they will 
 
 destroy, your soul. Perhaps indeed your Spirit will rise all the clearer and 
 
 more commanding out of this great fire of suffering. 
 
 If being small and without material power you have by your devoted 
 
 solidarity and democratic courage drawn the admiration and respect of ail 
 
 the peoples of the earth, you have already in so doing inspired us with an 
 
 idea whicii perhaps neither the science of Germany nor the wealth of 
 
 England nor the genius of France nor the vast resources of Russia could 
 
 alone have won for us — the belief that the power which ultimately rules the 
 
 world proceeds from the generosity of a nation's heart rather than from 
 
 the force of its armament. 
 
 It may be that this belief, born of your act of devotion and heroism, will 
 
 one day become the salvation of Europe, and bring to its distracted peoples 
 
 — instead of endless violence and jealousies — the gift of true culture and 
 
 fraternity. 
 
 109 
 
BY THE LAKE 
 
 Poembj Ethel Clifford. SONG Music by Liz aLehmann. 
 
 To be sung by Madame-Clara Butt 
 
 love Andhavingchosen.tilltheendbetrue. So shall one woman 
 
 (sostenuto) 
 
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 pul of all the world Keep faith in 
 
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 1 
 
By MISS BRADDON 
 
 WHAT can I say of Albert, the King ? What can I think of him, except 
 what we are all saying in these dreadful hours, except what we are all think- 
 ing, with thoughts too deep for tears ? To whom can we compare him ? 
 He has no parallel in the story of the nations, no parallel in Romance or 
 Legend, He stands alone on a hideous page of the world's history, and 
 will so stand till the last hour of recorded time, sublime and adorable, with 
 the halo of saints and martyrs round his head. 
 
 By WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS 
 
 THE proposed tribute is part of the debt of honour and reverence which is 
 due from the whole world to that most nobly heroic people and the Prince 
 who has shown himself worthy of them. The tragedy of their great little 
 land is of a pathos matchless in the history of the past ; and in the future 
 when, as we all hope, the military spirit of Germany shall be brought low, 
 I believe the Germans themselves will share our horror of the ruin they 
 have wrought among its homes and shrines. 
 
 By SIR H. RIDER HAGGARD 
 
 THE desolation of Belgium is perhaps the most appalling world-crime 
 since the wrecking of the Netherlands by Alva. That iniquity was followed 
 by the decay of Spain while, in the end, Holland recovered and grew great 
 in freedom. It may well be that the eternal laws of Justice shall work in 
 such fashion that a like judgment will fall upon the proud head of Germany 
 and that a like triumph awaits her victim. . -^ 
 
 By WILLIAM ARCHER 
 
 The Big and the Great 
 
 When they to History's judgment-seat shall come. 
 
 Which will shine glorious in the eyes of men, 
 Huge Germany or heroic BELGIUM ? 
 
 Which will be hailed Great, Wilhehn or ALBERT, then ? 
 
 //uMkcwvx vX\a^ 
 
 ta 
 
 By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS 
 
 By Cable 
 
 GOD bless Belgium and the AUies ! They fight for decency and civilisation. 
 
 112 
 
By WILLIAM DE MORGAN 
 
 A Visit to Louvain 
 
 FIFTY years ago ! And I who write this had never been out of England, 
 
 though I was a quarter of a century old ! 
 
 I decided to go, on an impulse. In those days the Baron Osy went from 
 
 London Bridge to Antwerp. Antwerp was on the Continent and would do 
 
 — so I went on board the Baron Osy. I remember lying on deck all night 
 
 looking up at the sky. For it was meteor night in August, and phenomena 
 
 were doing themselves credit, astronomically. 
 
 I fell asleep and woke in the dawn, to find the banks of the Scheldt sliding 
 
 past us, and the river outstripping the banks. Then, Antwerp. I went 
 
 to an inn on the quay. The keeper thereof was an Englishman who had 
 
 invented a saxhorn. He had a low opinion of the Continent, but gave me 
 
 very good boiled beef. 
 
 Next day I proceeded to sample Flanders. I can't say which town I tasted 
 
 first. But I remember being in Bruges, Ghent, Oudenarde, Malines, Louvain, 
 
 and Ypres. I have now the most vivid remembrance of Bruges, Oudenarde, 
 
 and Louvain. 
 
 Especially the last. For the hotel where I stayed was close by the old 
 
 Town Hall, and the carillon sounded the hours and quarters all through 
 
 the night. Every hour it played through 
 
 Void le sabre, le sabre, le sabre, 
 Void le sabre, le sabre de moti père, 
 
 and, at each quarter, took an instalment ; at the rate of a sabre for the first 
 
 quarter, two for the half-hour, and the whole line for the three-quarters. 
 
 The night was hot, and I could not stand the windows shut — so I got very 
 
 little sleep. 
 
 Next day I schemed causerie, based on this, with my delightful hostess below. 
 
 It was an opportunity to practise my French. 
 
 " Je ne poovay par dormir parceque du song des cloches. Ils songt assez 
 
 pour éveiller les morts." 
 
 " Plaît-il ? Dites-le-moi encore une fois. Ze bell week you up ? Ees that 
 
 ride ? " 
 
 I felt my forces demoralised, and merely answered : " We ! " 
 
 Marie — she was Marie — turned to a clean old fossil, like a Van Eyck portrait, 
 
 and said : " Eh — grand'mère, écoutez-ça ! M'sieu n'a pas pu dormir. Il 
 
 entend toujours les cloches du carillon." To which the old lady, after 
 
 hearing it a second time, louder, said : " Eh, mon Dieu ! " 
 
 I adventured yet a little more into French speech, saying : " II me prendrait 
 
 beaucoup de temps à m'accoutumer ..." and stuck. But Marie helped 
 
 me out, saying : " A vous y accoutumer ? Oui vraiment ! Mais ici on 
 
 entend la carillon dès sa naissance — jusqu'à la mort. Je suis née dans la 
 
 maison, moi ; grand'mère aussi. S'il n'y avait plus carillon, il n'y aurait 
 
 113 
 
plus sommeil, ni pour elle, ni pour moi." At least I think that is what 
 came through those white teeth, or very near it, fifty years ago. 
 And Marie may be turned of seventy if . . . Well ! — if German Culture 
 has spared her. But neither she nor any other Louvainoise will ever 
 sleep the better now for the music of the bells, nor any guest of hers be 
 kept awake an hour. For the old hostelry, I take it, is a heap of ashes, 
 and the sound of the carillon is ended for ever. 
 
 By PROFESSOR W. J. ASHLEY 
 
 BEFORE this fateful year the cities of Belgium had already done great 
 things for humanity. The man who could pass across the market-place 
 from the statue of Van Artevelde, the artisans' hero of the Middle Ages, to 
 the home of Vooruit, that noble working-class undertaking of to-day, without 
 a touch of emotion, must have been of sluggish imagination. No one, 
 again, who knew how Ypres, in the age of the Renaissance, taught the whole 
 western world to reform its treatment of the poor, could look without 
 profound respect at the commemorative fresco in its Cloth Hall. Originality 
 of social insight is still alive in the land ; for it was from Ghent that the 
 modern State learned in recent years to think out practicable measures of 
 insurance against unemployment. 
 
 It was with thoughts like these — fresh, also, from the reading of Quételet, 
 the organiser and inspirer of social statistics — that I went for my holiday in 
 Belgium, a week before the war. I could not but reflect that it is not to the 
 great States alone, with their vast scientific and administrative apparatus, 
 that the student of social conditions must look for example and guidance. 
 And with me I took one of the volumes of Pirenne, an historical scholar of 
 whom any country might well be proud, and read how Belgium had grown 
 into unity under the House of Burgundy, and how, through the harsh 
 experience of centuries, had been developed the soul of a nation. I was 
 idly wondering whether indeed this was so, and whether Belgium would 
 ever have an opportunity to assert and display its essential independence, 
 when the mobilisation came. Let me confess — I do it with humility — I 
 could not at first take it seriously. I knew there had for some time been a 
 military party in Germany which talked of marching into France througli 
 Belgium ; but I was confident German statesmanship would keep this 
 party in check. Germany could never be so unwise, I thought, as to put 
 itself in the wrong with the world by infringing Belgian neutrality. But 
 I was blinded by partiality. The little country was only too well justified 
 in arming itself against the giant. And with tragic rapidity, also, event3 
 showed how entirely right Pirenne had been : that out of diflFerent races, 
 Romance and Teutonic, combining the characteristics of opposing peoples, 
 had been created a strong and self-reliant individuality among the nations, 
 determined to be master in its own house, ready to risk everything to be 
 itself. 
 114 
 
By HENRI LAVEDAN 
 King Albert 
 
 LE Roi Albert est la plus grande figure du temps présent. Il possède 
 l'Immortalité sans avoir eu besoin de mourir et en y étant toujours prêt. 
 Devenu commémoratif en un jour de sainte révolte, il a conquis, de son 
 vivant, la suprématie de la statue. Le marbre et le bronze, animés, sont 
 en lui, et l'ombre du laurier ne quitte pas son front. 
 
 Son nom, quand on le prononce, le place aussitôt debout sur un socle ou 
 l'exhausse au sommet d'une colonne. 
 
 Il domine. On le voit de partout, de tous les horizons, parmi les embrase- 
 ments de la guerre, et au-dessus. 
 
 Pur et beau comme une idée, fort et doux comme une foi, calme et ardent 
 comme une volonté, grave comme une religion, digne comme un devoir, 
 muet comme un chef, sachant se taire, surtout dans le bruit, et puis parler 
 pour dire les seuls mots décisifs qui sont les commandements du Droit et 
 la consigne de l'Honneur, personnage Shakespearien d'histoire et de légende, 
 de rêve et de réalité, de flamme et de melancholic, d'épopée et de poésie, 
 prince errant et confiant, cavalier de la sublime Croisade qui va, le long des 
 dunes de l'éxil, sans même chercher à deviner où Dieu le conduit par la 
 bride . . . roi-chevalier, roi-paladin, roi simple-soldat qui n'a plus que son 
 peuple épars et son armée en lambeaux, roi sans royaume enfin. . . . Albert 
 sans-terre, Albert de Belgique et de France est à cette heure cependant le 
 plus fameux, le plus aimé, le plus puissant des rois, car c'est sur nos esprits 
 et sur nos cœurs transportés de reconnaissance qu'il règne, d'une façon 
 absolue, et qu'il étend son magique pouvoir. Voilà son empire, spirituel 
 et moral, indestructible et sans limites, celui que l'on ne peut pas lui enlever 
 et qui lui restera, même après qu'avec notre aide il aura regagné et agrandi 
 — l'autre, son terrestre royaume. 
 
 Qu'a-t-il à faire d'ailleurs, pour le moment, de trône et de palais ? Partout 
 où il passe, il est chez lui, reçu, salué par l'amour et le respect des nations 
 civilisées, fières de l'accueillir. Tous ceux dont il a embrassé le premier 
 la cause commune, se regardent comme les fidèles sujets de la Majesté, 
 deux fois sacrée. 
 
 Il a pour sceptre son épée sans tache, il est le Héros dont la tête nue et libre 
 dans la bataille dépasse soudain la couronne pour appartenir à l'étoile ! 
 Vive à jamais Albert I", notre sauveur, monarque admirable et douloureux, 
 tout resplendissant d'idéal ! 
 
 ^tji^ <pia^eJ^^^ 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 King Albert is (he greatest figure of the time. He The very mention of his name evokes him standing 
 
 hai achieved immortality without dying, and by on a pedestal, or exalted to the summit of a column. 
 
 being always ready to die. He dominates the scene. We see him everywhere, 
 
 Cominemorating as he does a day of holy revolt, he from all horizons, amidst and above the smoke and 
 
 has won the supremacy of the statue while still living, flame of war. 
 
 Marble and bronze have awakened to life in him. Pure and beautiful as an idea, strong and gentle as 
 
 and the shadow of the laurel wreath is always on his faith, steadfast and ardent as will, grave as religion, 
 
 brow, dignified as duty, taciturn as a chieftain, knowing 
 
how to keep silence, especially in tumult, and then 
 how to spcitk the decisive words which are the com- 
 mands of Right and the countersign of Honour ; 
 Shakespearean figure of history and legend, dream 
 and reality, fire and melancholy, epic and poem — 
 wandering arid trustful Prince, horseinan of a sublime 
 crusade, advancing on the dunes of exile, asking not 
 whither God is leading him by the bridle — knight- 
 king, paladin-king, plain soldier-king, who possesses 
 nothing but his shattered army, and his flying people 
 — this King without a kingdom, Albert Lackland, 
 Albert of Belgium and of France, is at present the 
 most famous, the best beloved, the most tnighty of 
 kings, for he reigns, an absolute monarch, and holds 
 magic sway over our grateful hearts. This is his 
 empire, spiritual and moral, indestructible and 
 
 limitless, a domain that cannot be taken from him, 
 and that he will hold even after he has re- 
 gained and extended his terrestrial kingdom zvitk our 
 help. 
 
 What need has he at the moment of throne or palace ? 
 Wherever he passes, he is at home, received and 
 saluted by the love and respect of civilised nations, 
 proud to greet him as their guest. All those whose 
 common cause he was the first to defend, look upon 
 themselves as the faithful subjects of his twice sacred 
 Majesty. 
 
 His sceptre is his untarnished sword ; he is the Hero 
 whose free, bare head in battle towers above the 
 crown and touches the stars. 
 
 Long live King Albert I, our saviour, admirable and 
 suffering King, magnificent in his idealism I 
 
 By SARAH BERNHARDT 
 
 VIVE le Roi Albert ! Héros pur ! Martyr de la foi jurée ! Il s'est avancé, 
 
 suivi de son tout petit peuple — si grand ! au devant de la horde innombrable 
 
 des Barbares, 
 
 Refusant tous les dons, rejetant toutes les promesses, impassible à toutes 
 
 les menaces ; des jours et des nuits il a tenu en échec les forbans allemands. 
 
 Jamais la France ne pourra oublier sa dette de reconnaissance. Mais 
 
 l'heure du triomphe approche ; et la Victoire qui tient dans ses mains 
 
 glorieuses la balance de la Justice donnera au Roi Albert et à son vaillant 
 
 peuple une large part de territoire allemand. 
 
 Et les peuples germains soumis aux belges apprendront enfin ce que sont 
 
 l'honneur et l'humanité. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 Long live King Albert l Spotless hero I Martyr io 
 his plighted faith I He went forth, followed by all his 
 little people — the little people that is so great ! — to 
 meet the itmumcrable hosts of the Barbarians. 
 Refusing all gifts, rejecting all promises, dauntless in 
 the face of threats, for days and nights he held the 
 German freebooters in check. Never will France for- 
 get her debt of gratitude I But the hour of triumph 
 approaches ; and Victory, who holds the scales of 
 Justice in her glorious hands, will give King Albert 
 and his valiant people a large share of German 
 territory. 
 
 Thus Germans under the rule of Belgium will at last 
 learn something of honour and humanity. 
 
 By SIR F. C. BURNAND 
 
 I AM deeply grateful for this opportunity of expressing my heartfelt sym- 
 pathy with King Albert, his brave soldiers, and his undaunted people, in 
 this time of fearful trial. 
 
 T^. 9, 
 
 ii6 
 
By ADMIRAL SIR JOHN JELLICOE 
 
 A Message from the Grand Fleet 
 
 H.M.S. Iron Duke, 
 October 29, 19 14 
 
 I HAVE much pleasure in sending a message from the Grand Fleet. It 
 
 is this : 
 
 That even as Belgium has shown her heroism in deeds, while her sufferings 
 are too hitter to express in words, so those oj the Grand Fleet trust to 
 show their sympathy in deeds, knowing that silence becomes them best at 
 all times. ^ 
 
 By SIR EDWARD RUSSELL 
 
 SMALL countries have great ideals. Yet the grandeur of the Belgian ideal 
 has been a surprise to the world. It has arrested universal attention. It 
 has inspired universal admiration. 
 
 The Belgians always enjoyed the respect of other peoples. But no nation 
 can absolutely avert the influences upon it, or avoid the diversions of its 
 course, which come of associations imposed by dominant personalities, 
 and by compelling events. So it happened that Belgium, though secure in 
 its constitutional liberties and zealous in the exercise of them, encountered 
 moral and political difficulties ; had to face awkward exigencies of ad- 
 ministration and policy ; and did not create for her future expectations of 
 heroism or of higher excellence than commercial enterprise and probity. 
 Then, without warning, came the temptation, cynical and alluring, of the 
 Berlin Satan. Belgium rang true. She repelled the tempter. She scorned 
 the bait. She elected martyrdom — martyrdom not merely for political 
 theory, not at all for any projects or aims of material well-being — martyrdom 
 for national honour and for international right. Thus, at the touch of a 
 tragic exigency wickedly created, sprang into being a magnificent conscience 
 void of ofi^ence before God and man, and an enthusiasm for heroic life and 
 struggle and sacrifice, which glorified every Belgian with the noblest glory ; 
 from the harassed King, more than sharing the troubles of his subjects, 
 to the poorest peasant, driven by the villainy of unscrupulous and oppressive 
 hostility to the loss of his all and to the anxious miseries of impoverished 
 and forlorn exile. 
 
 A wonderful expansion of traditional sympathy and appreciation has been 
 experienced by the British nation in presence of this noble spectacle. 
 Touching memories distinguish with a new and rare quality of homage the 
 accession of faith in Belgium which Belgian conduct — finer than any possible 
 professions — has produced in our people. 
 
 Leopold the First, husband of a darling English princess, grandfather of 
 Albert, King of the Belgians, who is worthy of him, was the Nestor of 
 Europe, the counsellor of Queen Victoria. There were few problems his 
 
 H*** 117 
 
sagacity could not solve — solve with honour, with dignity. But he never 
 had to confront a problem such as has been solved by his grandson and like- 
 minded statesmen and subjects. The solution has been simple honesty 
 and valour, rising from the level of mere State prudence into the empyrean 
 of highest enthusiasm and virtue. 
 
 When Belgium was threatened once before, Mr. Gladstone, wielding as he 
 then did almost absolutely the might of Britain, stood by her side as an 
 honoured and honourably protected small State. But that seemed essen- 
 tially an act of British power and rectitude — the conscious fulfilment of a 
 grand pledge of redemption. 
 
 Now, the sentiment of the situation is different — an interesting contrast — 
 harmonious but in another scheme and key of harmony. Britain indeed has 
 been as true as her great statesman declared she would be to the little 
 kingdom ; but the kingdom, diminutive in size, has shown itself colossal 
 in strenuous honour and public virtue. 
 
 Belgium passes into history a splendid paragon of ideal and agonised 
 heroism — heroism for world-wide right as well as a heroism of patriotism — 
 a heroism devoted to the purgation of power from the curse and blight of 
 sinister aggression, of sanguinary rapine, of domineering usurpation. 
 
 By WALTER CRANE 
 To Belgium 
 
 JVe measure not in numbers or in land 
 The greatness of a people, but the test 
 Is in the hour of peril, when they breast 
 Hard strokes of fate, and dauntlessly withstand 
 A strong and ruthless foe, whose armoured hand, 
 Foreszvorn, is stretched to smite and seize their best, 
 Spoiling a bleeding country, sore distrest. 
 Laid waste by ravagers with flaming brand. 
 
 Through blood and tears, from noble cities razed. 
 Shines Belgium^ s name unvanquished, brave ana clear. 
 Resplendent zvrit in Honour's runes of gold. 
 
 Who stood for Faith and Freedom unamazed. 
 Defending Right, without reproach or fear. 
 As kindred with the hero-race of old. 
 
 ii8 
 
By ALFRED CAPUS 
 
 ON prend une idée très juste de la valeur et de la noblesse d'Albert I", 
 Roi des Belges, si on le compare à Guillaume II. Le plus effroyable carnage 
 des temps modernes, la bataille de l'Yser, nous en fournit l'occasion. 
 L'Empereur d'Allemagne, c'est le tragédien sinistre — qualis artijex pereo, 
 a dit un de ses pairs — qui de son estrade a jeté à ses soldats l'ordre de mourir 
 jusqu'au dernier, afin d'assurer le succès du dernier drame sorti de son 
 imagination, La Prise de Calais. 
 
 Le Kaiser ne recule devant aucun m.assacre pour n'être pas sifflé par son 
 peuple. Mais nous avons l'ardente conviction que tout ce sanglant cabotin- 
 age finira dans la malédiction et les huées. 
 
 Quel contraste avec l'autre rive de l'Yser ! Ici, pas de maître donnant à 
 ses sujets des ordres de mort. C'est un Roi à la tête de son armée, un chef 
 de race. 
 
 L'histoire les confrontera tous les deux : le puissant Kaiser qui conduit 
 quatre millions de soldats à la curée, et le jeune Roi vaincu à qui il ne reste 
 plus sur le sol de son pays que la place de dresser sa tente. 
 Mais déjà l'un et l'autre on peut les mesurer, tant les événements les éclairent 
 d'une tragique lueur. Le premier a fait piétiner par ses chevaux une fière 
 et pacifique nation. Dans sa rage de n'avoir pu la dompter, il en arrive aux 
 plus monstrueux efforts et il espère encore une fois faire trembler le monde 
 avec ses derniers gestes de fureur. 
 
 Rien que de simple, au contraire, d'aise, d'humain, chez le jeune Roi de 
 Belgique. Admirable et claire figure qui a surgi tout à coup dans cette crise 
 pathétique de la civilisation pour incarner l'idée de patrie, la Justice et le 
 Droit ! Et on dirait que le destin s'est plu à la modeler en grace et en noblesse 
 afin de l'opposer aux traits rudes et au rictus des barbares. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 A very true idea of the worth and nobility of Albert I, 
 
 King of the Belgians, may be gathered by comparing 
 
 him to William II. The most frightful carnage of 
 
 modern times, the Battle of the Yser, gives us the 
 
 opportunity. 
 
 The Emperor of Germany is the sinister tragedian — 
 
 qualis artifex pereo, as one of his peers said — who 
 
 from his throne gave the order to his soldiers to die, 
 
 even to the last man, to ensure the success of the latest 
 
 drama emanating from his fertile imagination : The 
 
 Taking of Calais. 
 
 The Kaiser finches before no massacre to avoid the 
 
 derision of his people. But it is our firm conviction 
 
 that all this bloody stage-strutting will end in curses 
 
 and hisses. 
 
 What a contrast is to be found on the other bank of 
 
 the Yser ! No master here giving his subjects orders 
 
 to die ! Here we have a King at the head of his army, 
 
 a racial chieftain. 
 
 History will confrmit these two : the mighty Kaiser 
 leading his four million soldiers to slaughter and the 
 young conquered King, who has nothing left of his 
 country save the spot on which his tent is pitched. 
 But their measure may be already taken, so clearly 
 have events shed their tragic light on them. The 
 first has trampled underfoot a proud and peaceful 
 nation. In his rage at not being able to subdue it 
 he has resorted to the most monstrous expedients and 
 he still hopes to make the world tremble at his final 
 deeds of fury. 
 
 In the young Belgian King, on the other liana, we 
 find perfect simplicity, cheerfulness, and humanity 
 . . . his admirable and luminous figure has emerged 
 suddenly in this pathetic crisis of civilisation as the 
 incarnation of Patriotism, of Justice, and of Equity ! 
 And it may well be thought that Destiny delighted to 
 model him with grace and nobility as a contrast to the 
 rude features and sardonic grimaces of the Barbarians. 
 
 120 
 
riITWffilTTli 
 
 A STUDY 
 
 By Seymour Llicas, R A. 
 
 jy/f^- 
 
 :JrJ^/ 
 
 /f'^^' 
 
By THE Rt. Hon. AUGUSTINE BIRRELL 
 WHEN first asked to write something for this book it seemed a pitiful task 
 to sit down and string together a few phrases about a crime, so heinous, so 
 horrifying, and perpetrated under our eyes, as this attempted murder of 
 peaceful and prosperous Belgium. We saw the crime committed and mean 
 to avenge it or disappear. To shed ink over such an episode is hardly 
 apposite — not pens but pikes is the motto of to-day. And yet who would 
 not do anything he could to assuage so great a grief and to compassionate 
 so excruciating a sorrow ? 
 
 The other day in Ireland whilst arranging for the temporary occupation of 
 Belgian refugees of a commodious, sturdily built, and happily half-empty 
 country house with a spacious mediaeval-looking refectory, large and airy 
 dormitories and a private chapel, in a word, a workhouse, I noticed, standing 
 by and hearkening to our talk, an aged but still bright-eyed pauper leaning 
 over his pitch-fork. Recognising in him the legitimist of the establishment, 
 the Bourbon of the workhouse, I expressed to him the hope that he would 
 extend a kindly welcome to these poor exiles for a few days, whilst other 
 arrangements were being made for their accommodation. The old man 
 replied with eagerness, and with that splendid command of the English 
 language which belongs almost exclusively to the Irish poor, that he was. 
 only waiting to rise to the level of a great opportunity. It would therefore 
 seem as if there were a part for all of us — and if it be but a small part, we 
 yet must do it, whilst deploring its littleness. 
 
 Belgium had hardly entered into the fullness of her inheritance when this 
 great trouble befell her. In trade and commerce, in industrial life she had 
 indeed already made for herself a great name. She had a Black Country 
 almost fit to compare with our own. Her iron and flax had made her feared 
 in Birmingham and necessary to Belfast, and wherever cheap contracts, 
 honourably performed, are held in reverence, there the name of Belgium 
 stood high in men's regard. A thrifty, practical people, fully abreast with 
 all the troublesome problems of peace we knew them to be, but in other 
 affairs appertaining more to the realm of taste and spirit, Belgium was also 
 fast forging ahead, vying with France and altogether eclipsing Germany. 
 Poets, artists, novelists, philosophers, and theologians, as well as scholars 
 and mathematicians, were carving for Belgium a foremost place among the 
 nations. 
 
 One cannot but wonder what will be the effect of this catastrophe upon 
 the genius of Flanders. Blood and tears are powerful ingredients in the 
 manufacture of manhood, and it may well be that in due time those who 
 come after this blood-stained age will be able to see in the masterpieces of 
 the new Flemish art and literature some traces of the heroic resolve and 
 fierce determination to bear cruel misfortune we have witnessed with so 
 
 much admiration. 
 
 ^ 
 
 121 
 
By JUAN RAMON JIMENEZ 
 
 A Su Alteza Real la Princesa Maria 
 
 POR el telègrafo sin hilos, te mando, tierna Princesa, corno regalo de Pascua, 
 
 mi inmenso corazon de hombre bueno. Dignate recibirlo en tus breves 
 
 manecitas celestes. 
 
 i Si te pudiera servir de algo ! i De que te servirla ? i De baia, para hacer 
 
 huir de tus jardines a ics terribles rubios rapados de Prusia ? \ Pues carga 
 
 con él, i con mucha pólvora ! , un espantable obus del ... 52 ! 
 
 l De globo, para espiar el descuido de los campamentos enemigos, ó las 
 
 sécrétas marchas contra tu palacio fino ? i Pues embarca en él tu esperanza, 
 
 y vête sobre el propio Berlin, que yo soplaré desde aqui, obstinadamente, 
 
 a dos carrillos ! 
 
 l De insospechado submarino ? Pues échalo al agua honda, y que sea el 
 
 asombro de las énormes ballenas de hierro que tremolan el negro, el bianco 
 
 y el rojo por el picado y luctuoso Baltico. 
 
 j Pero no ! Todo esto es malo, y poco grato a una Princesa de Bèlgica y a 
 
 un poeta de Espana. Que me corazon te sirva de semilla de amor. Siém- 
 
 bralo en el campo de este otono, arado por los cafïones ; y que, a la mas 
 
 temprana primavera, brote de su sangre el ârbol puro de la paz. 
 
 l\^ ■ 
 
 TRANSLATION by Prof. Fitzmaurice-Kelly 
 
 To Her Royal Highness the Princess Marie, on it to Berlin itself, for I shall blow it resolutely 
 Gentle Princess, as a Christmas gift I send thee by from here, with both cheeks puffed out ! 
 wireless telegraphy the whole large heart of a kindly An unsuspected submarine ? Well, cast it in deep 
 man. Deign to take it in thy small angel-hands. waters, and may it be the dread of the huge iron 
 Could I but be of use to thee ! What could I be for whales from which the black, zvhite, and red flutter 
 thee ? A bullet, to drive from thy gardens the fear- on the raging, mournful Baltic ! 
 some, blonde Prussian plunderers ? Well, load with But no ! All this is evil, displeasing to a Belgian 
 it — fiot sparing powder ! — a terrible 52 howitzer ! Princess and to a Spanish poet. Let my heart be 
 An air-ball, to spy out some oversight in the enemy's for thee the seed of love. Sow it in the cannon- 
 tines, or his festive march on thy charming palace ? ploughed autumn fields, and in the earliest springtime 
 Well, place all thy hopes aboard, and be wafted may there rise from its blood the virginal tree of peace ! 
 
 By JACK LONDON 
 By Cable 
 
 BELGIUM is rare, Belgium is unique. Among men arises on rare occasion 
 a great man, a man of cosmic import ; among nations on rare occasion 
 arises a great nation, a nation of cosmic import. Such a nation is Belgium. 
 Such is the place Belgium attained in a day by one mad, magnificent, heroic 
 leap into the azure. As long as the world rolls and men live, that long will 
 Belgium be remembered. All the human world owes, and will owe Belgium 
 a debt of gratitude, such as was never earned by any nation in the History 
 of Nations. It is a magnificent debt, a proud debt that all the nations of 
 men will sacredly acknowledge. 
 122 
 
By SIR OWEN SEAMAN 
 
 Between Midnight and Morning 
 
 Yoii that have faith to look with fearless eyes 
 Beyond the tragedy of a world at strife. 
 And trust that out of night and death shall rise 
 The dawn of ampler life ; 
 
 Rejoice, whatever anguish rend your heart, 
 
 That God has given you, for a priceless dower, 
 To live in these great times and have your part 
 In Freedom's crowning hour. 
 
 That you may tell your sons who see the light 
 
 High in the heavens, their heritage to take : — 
 " / saw the pozvers of darkness put to flight ! 
 I saw the morning break ! " 
 
 -13 
 
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 o-^>^ 
 
 By ALFRED SUTRO 
 
 I HAVE translated many books of Maeterlinck's — I have wandered, with 
 him, among the canals of Bruges and the fragrant gardens of Ghent. I 
 have seen the places where he dreamed of Pelléas and Mélisande, and the 
 hives of the bees he loved. Through him I learned to know Belgium — 
 to-day all the world knows. Her cities are laid waste now, and her people 
 scattered — but her people will return and rebuild the cities, and the enemy 
 will be dust. The day will come when the War will be far distant, a thing 
 of the past, remote, forgotten — but never, while men endure, or heroism 
 counts, will it be forgotten what the Belgians did for Liberty's sake, and for 
 the sake of Albert their King. 
 
 123 
 
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 From a poem by Bishop Walsham How 
 
 :z 41^ 
 
By LUIGI BARZINI(ro represent ihe ' ' Corriere della Sera , ' ' Milan) 
 IL Belgio é caduto, ma ha conquistato il cuore del Mondo. 
 La Causa belga é cosi nobile e cosi pura, che essa assume nella coscienza 
 degli uomini una maestà trionfale che nessuna sconfitta diminuisce. Il 
 Belgio atterrato, calpestato, disfatto dal gigantesco nemico, rappresenta pur 
 sempre qualche cosa d'invincibile : il Diritto. Difendendo fino alla morte 
 la sua libertà, il Belgio ha difeso il più sacro patrimonio di tutti i popoli 
 civili ; si è battuto per un principio che è fondamento di vita in ogni nazione 
 moderna ; ha dato il suo sangue non per un interesse suo ma per un ideale 
 che è anche nostro. La sconfitta lo innalza e lo glorifica come il Martirio 
 santifica e sublima la vittima et la sua fede. 
 
 Il Belgio ha messo l'Indipendenza al di sopra dell' Esistenza. Non ha 
 contato i nemici, non ha calcolato la probabilità : ha visto soltanto la gius- 
 tizia e la santità della sua causa. Ha compiuto questa cosa sublime : 
 combattere senza speranza. Ma, a mano a mano che sotto al galoppo degli 
 Ulani dei territori belgi si staccavano dal corpo vivo della Nazione, e che, 
 sempre più avanti, a ferro e a fuoco, da città a città, avanzava inesorabile 
 la pesante marea teutonica, a mano a mano che il Belgio impiccoliva, noi 
 lo vedevamo più grande. 
 
 Avanti al mondo ammirato sorgeva un Belgio nuovo. Dove noi non 
 avevamo visto che un piccolo paese pacifico, inerme, calcolatore, industrioso, 
 trascurabile entità nei conflitti delle nazioni, abbiamo sentito improvisa- 
 mente palpitare lo spirito di una grande razza. Abbiamo avuto la rive- 
 lazione inaspettata di un popolo che, condotto dal suo Re valoroso, riusciva 
 ad assumere delle proporzioni dominanti per il suo eroismo, per la sua 
 lealtà, per la sua generosità, pur perdendo lembo a lembo il dominio sulla 
 sua terra insanguinata. Ai nostri occhi il Belgio ingigantiva sulle rovine 
 stesse del Belgio. 
 
 La grandezza di un popolo è nella sua anima. 
 
 Noi consideriamo il destino del Belgio con una commozione in fondo alla 
 quale vibra un senso di solidarietà. Milioni e milioni di uomini di ogni 
 nazione e di ogni stirpe si sono sentiti ferire dai colpi inferti spietatamente 
 al popolo belgo e alla gloria secolare della sua cultura, e dividono con lui 
 dolori, passioni e speranze. Si è formato come un sentimento di citta- 
 dinanza belga in ogni persona di cuore. E da tutti i Continenti va verso il 
 Belgio un onda immensa di affetto e di augurio come verso una patria ideale 
 devastata e dolente. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 Belgium has fallen, but she has conquered the heart has defended the sacred patrimony of all civilised 
 
 of the zvhole ivorld. peoples ; she has fought for a principle which is ihe 
 
 The Belgian Cause is so pure and so noble that to basis of life in every modern nation ; she has given 
 
 the conscience of mankind it has assumed a victorious her blood, not for her individual interests, but for an 
 
 majesty which fio defeat can minimise. Belgium, ideal which is also ours. Defeat ennobles and glorifies 
 
 overthrown, trampled upon and destroyed by her her, as martyrdom sanctifies and exalts the victim 
 
 gigantic enemy, still represents a thing invincible : and his faith. 
 
 Right. Defending her liberty to the death, Belgium Belgium has set Independence above Existence. She 
 
did not count her foes, nor calculate her chances ; proportions by virtue of their heroism, their loyalty, 
 
 she saw only the justice and sanctity of her cause, and their generosity, the while their blooastained 
 
 She understood that sublime thing : to fight without territory was torn from them strip by strip. We saw 
 
 hope. But as one by otte, Belgian territories are a colossal Belgium rising from the ruins of Belgium, 
 
 severed from the living body of the nation beneath The greatness of a people is in its soul, 
 
 the gallop of Prussian Uhlans ; as the heavy German We zvatch the fate of Belgium with an emotion under- 
 
 flood rolls on inexorably, carrying fire and sword laid by a strong sense of soUdarity. Millions of 
 
 from city to city ; as Belgium dwindles from day to inen of every nation and of every race have felt 
 
 day, we behold her greater and ever greater. themselves wounded by the impious bUnvs ùeult at 
 
 A new Belgium burst upon the sight of an admiring the Belgian people and at the aiwicnt glories of their 
 
 world. Where we had seen only a Utile peaceful culture ; these millions share their anguish, their 
 
 counfiy calculating, itidustrious and unarmed, a passion and their hopes. A se7tse of Belgian citizen- 
 
 jiegli'^ibie quantity in the strife of nations, we heard ship has grown up in every feeling heart. And from 
 
 the mighty stirring of the spirit of a great race. We all coiitinents an immense wave of affection and good 
 
 witnessed the unexpected revelation of a people who, will sets tozvards Belgium as to an ideal land, stricken 
 
 Jed by their valiant King, assumed commanding and devastated. 
 
 By THE Rt. Hon. SIR GEORGE REID 
 
 THE Parliament and Government of Australia, nobly representing the 
 feelings and wishes of the people of the Commonwealth, have given a 
 magnificent proof of the unbounded admiration and sympathy they feel 
 for the people of Belgium, having authorised a grant of two and a half 
 millions of francs in aid of the movement to lessen the sufferings of that 
 heroic people. The following Resolution was passed by the Australian 
 Senate and House of Representatives : 
 
 That in tJie opinion of this House a sum of £100,000 from the Consolidated 
 
 Revenue Fund should be iliade payable as a grant-in-aid to Belgium in 
 
 grateful acknowledgment of the heroic services the citizens of that country 
 
 have rendered mankind in defence of their national right to live in peace in 
 
 their ozvn country and that His Excellency the Governor -General he invited 
 
 to transitât this Resolution to the Seaetary of State for the Colonies. 
 
 The Right Honourable Andrew Fisher, M.P., Prime Minister and Treasurer, 
 
 directed me, as High Commissioner, to hand over the above amount to the 
 
 Imperial Government, which I did, and the following acknowledgment was 
 
 addressed to me by the head of the Imperial Government : 
 
 My dear Sir George, — / have to acknowledge with much gratitude the 
 cheque for ^(^ 100 ,000 which you have been good enough to hand to me. 
 I esteem it a great honour to be the medium for transmitting to our gallant 
 Belgian allies, to alleviate the calamities which the zvar has brought upon 
 their people, this munificent expression of the good-will and fellozv feeling 
 of the Commonwealth of Australia. Yours very sincerely, 
 
 H. H. Asquith. 
 
 I have never performed a more agreeable duty. They may cease to be 
 allies, and regain their neutraUty again, but the Belgians will remain in our 
 loving regard a kindred people whose full rights and national existence the 
 whole British Empire will always defend. rp> Va 
 
 126 
 
By THE BISHOP OF LUND 
 
 MIDT i trangseln af det ontsaglige elande, som det fôrfârlige kriget vallar, 
 skônjes dock nagot, som verkar upplyftande. Fran alia lander, som aro 
 invecklade i kriget, komma vitnesbord om huru folken dar enas, som funnes 
 hos dem ej skilda klasser eller partier i en ofFervilligliet, som ej râknar med 
 hvad som offras for ett alskadt fosterlands râddning och ara. 
 Alltsâ minst kan den, som star pa langt afstând frân krigsskâdeplatserna, 
 ana, huru mycket lidande, kriget redan har astadkommit och kommar att i 
 framtiden medfora, da de manga smartans hvardagar, den, ena efter den 
 andrà, mâste genomlefvas under erfarenhet af hvad man har forlorat. 
 Medlidande ur hjartats djup maste man kânna med alia de i kriget dclta- 
 gande folken, men val mest med Belgiens, som, efter hvad man kan 
 fôrstâ, lidit mest. 
 
 'Och innerligt onskar man framgâng ât hvarje bemôdande, som afser att i 
 nagon man aftorka târarna. ^^-^'^ 
 
 TRANSLATION by Edmund Cosse, LL.D. 
 Amidst the press of incalculable sorrows, of which 
 this terrible war is the cause, there is yet one element 
 which uplifts the spirit as we contemplate it. From 
 every country which is involved in the war, there is 
 evidence that that nation is united, that no schism of 
 class or party exists, but that all citizens are one in 
 accepting every sacrifice which may be required for 
 the safety and honour of the Fatherland. 
 Little can he who stands afar off from the scene of 
 fighting realise how much suffering has already been 
 
 caused and must contìnue to be caused by this struggle. 
 To comprehend the agony one tnust live, day by 
 recurrent day, under the very experience of anxiety 
 and loss. But sympathy we give, from the depths of 
 our heart, sympathy to all the nations who are taking 
 their part in this war. Most of all to Belgium, 
 which, so far as we can understand, has suffered 
 most. 
 
 And inwardly we yearn to see advance every effort 
 made to stanch the flow of the tears. 
 
 By RENE BAZIN 
 
 JE crois que le Roi Albert et la Belgique, en se sacrifiant, comme ils l'ont 
 
 fait, pour le droit, ont sauvé l'Europe. 
 
 Je crois, pour agir avec cette décision, il fallait un roi, c'est-à-dire un chef 
 
 responsable devant l'histoire, de famille ancienne et préparée. 
 
 Je crois qu'il fallait aussi un peuple chrétien, capable de comprendre, 
 
 d'accepter et de porter l'épreuve. 
 
 Je crois que les Alliés devront d'abord restaurer le royaume de Belgique, 
 
 et que l'exemple donné par le Roi et par le peuple sera glorifié dans tous les 
 
 pays de civilisation, tant que le monde hra l'histoire. 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 
 I believe that King Albert and Belgium, in sacrificing 
 
 themselves, as they have done, for Right, have saved 
 
 Europe. 
 
 I believe, that in order to act with such decision, it 
 
 was essential to have a King, that is to say, a leader 
 
 responsible to history, of an old and proven stock. 
 
 I believe, that for such action, a Christian nation 
 
 was essential, a nation capable of understanding, of 
 
 accepting and of enduring the ordeal. 
 
 I believe, that the first duty of the Allies will be to 
 
 restore the kingdom of Belgium, and that the example 
 
 shoivn by the Kitig and his people will be exalted in 
 
 all civilised countries as long as the world reads 
 
 History. 
 
 127 
 
By CAMILLE SAINT-SAÈNS 
 A Personal Memory of King Albert 
 
 C'EST chez un autre ami de la France, chez un autre Albert V\ chez son 
 Altesse Serenissime le Prince de Monaco, que j'eus l'honneur d'être pré- 
 senté à Leurs Altesses Royales le Prince et la Princesse Albert de Belgique, 
 futurs souverains. Grands amateurs de musique, ils me firent le plus 
 gracieux accueil et témoignèrent le désir de m'entendre sur l'orgue de la 
 Cathédrale de Monaco, excellent sans doute, mais de petite dimension, plus 
 apte à l'accompagnement des voix qu'à l'exécution proprement dite. Je fis 
 de mon mieux et l'indulgence aes auditeurs fit le reste. Le Prince et la 
 Princesse se promenaient sur la Côte-d'Azur dans une minuscule automobile 
 à deux places, ofi'rant le tableau charmant du ménage le plus uni dans le 
 bonheur le plus parfait. La Princesse était toujours vêtue avec la plus 
 grande simplicité, cette inimitable simplicité des grandes dames. Elle 
 s'amusait beaucoup à prendre des cHchés ; j'étais souvent le point de mire 
 de son appareil et j'eus même le grand honneur, à sa demande, de former 
 un groupe avec son noble époux. 
 
 Très grand, svelte, élégant, réservé, parlant d'une voix douce avec lenteur, 
 le Roi des Belges déconcerte au premier abord comme une énigme : à qui 
 ne le connaît pas, il semble avoir mis sur son visage, sur toute sa personne, 
 un voile impénétrable. Or, il n'y a pas de voile, il n'y a pas d'énigme. 
 C'est avec le même aspect de froideur et d'insensibilité qu'il se révèle, dans 
 la conversation, causeur le plus affable, homme de premier ordre ayant 
 tout étudié, tout approfondi, à qui rien n'est étranger. C'est à lui, n'en 
 doutez pas, qu'est due la supériorité dont l'armée Belge a donné des preuves 
 si éclatantes dans la lutte inégale et glorieuse contre l'Allemagne. Sans 
 rien perdre de sa tranquillité, le jeune souverain connu jusqu'à présent 
 comme un diplomate, un savant, un artiste, s'est révélé tout à coup, à 
 l'étonnement et à l'admiration du monde, un héros. 
 
 Et cette gracieuse Reine, d'apparence si frêle, si délicate, quelle indomptable 
 énergie elle a montré dans son triple rôle de souveraine, d'épouse et de mère ! 
 Quelle grande figure fera dans l'histoire ce couple royal, qu'illumine la 
 double auréole de la jeunesse et du martyre ! 
 
 TRANSLATION {abridged) 
 
 ***** him the Belgian army oives the efficiency of which it 
 
 Very tali, slender, elegant, and reserved, speaking has given such brilliant proof in its unequal and 
 
 slowly in a softly modulated voice, the King of the glorious struggle against Germany. Without any 
 
 Belgians is somezvhat disconcerting and enigmatical loss of his habitual tranquillity, the young sovereign, 
 
 at first. To those who do not know him, he seemed known hitherto as a diplomatist, a scientist, and an 
 
 to have drawn an impenetrable veil over his face and artist, revealed himself suddenly, to the surprise and 
 
 his whole person. Now, as a fact, there is no veil admiration of the world, as a hero ! 
 
 and no mystery. Under this superficial aspect of And the graceful Queen, so fragile and delicate in 
 
 coldness and insensibility, he reveals himself in in- appearance, what indomitable energy she has shown 
 
 timacy as the most affable of conversationalists, a man in her triple role of sovereign, wife, and tnother ! 
 
 of the highest abilities, who has studied much, gone What great figures this royal couple, glorified by the 
 
 deeply into all manner of subjects, and knows some- double aureole of youth and martyrdom, will be in 
 
 thing of everything. There can be no doubt that to the pages of history I 
 
 128 
 

 1.4£ SVMPATH-f Of T^f «fcviuZ-CP Wor?i_o "TcH. "BtLGlV 
 
 SYMPATHY 
 
 ft/ j. Montgomery Flagg 
 
By LORD READING, LORD CHIEF JUSTICE OF ENGLAND 
 HONOUR the Belgians and their King for their fame endureth for ever ! 
 If there existed in the world a formal Court of Public Opinion it would 
 long since have recorded its horror at the cynical contempt of solemn 
 obligations displayed by Germany in the name of " Kultur." 
 The judgment of the Court would also have expressed its whole-hearted 
 admiration for the courage and fortitude of Belgium under the most terrible 
 shocks ever sustained by any nation. Germany's attack upon Belgium is a 
 tragedy in the history of human progress ; it is a stab at the heart of civilisa- 
 tion. Fortunately Belgium has minimised the gravity of the blow to the 
 human race by the moral grandeur she has attained under the leadership 
 of her King. 
 
 Belgium was an unoffending " little nation." She had no quarrel with 
 Germany, her people were industrious, law-abiding, and peace-loving, 
 desiring only to be left alone ; they sought no extension of territory, they 
 claimed no part in the conflict of Great Nations. 
 
 That her treaty rights should be respected and her neutrality observed by 
 all the signatories without discrimination was the whole sum and substance 
 of Belgian policy. The most microscopic German eye could not detect in it 
 the least cause of complaint or the faintest trace of offence. 
 When it appeared that the flagrant breach of faith was to be committed 
 Belgium stood in profound and sorrowful amazement. She had not yet 
 learnt the German doctrine that little nations have no rights. Indeed, so 
 recently as the year 191 1, Germany had declared through Herr von Beth- 
 mann-Hollweg that it had no intention of violating the neutrality of Belgium. 
 Again, two years later, Herr von Jagow stated that the neutrality of Belgium 
 had been determined upon by international conventions and Germany was 
 determined to respect those conventions. Even in the last week of July 
 19 14 the German Minister to Belgium repeated the assurances of his 
 predecessor to a similar effect. In fact, Germany insisted upon the neu- 
 trality of Belgium until it suited its purpose to violate it. The treaty 
 hitherto regarded as a solemn and binding obligation then suddenly became 
 " a scrap of paper." There was and could be no justification for this 
 sudden change, the excuse was necessity in the interests of Germany. Now 
 that so much has happened and Belgium is still the battle-ground, one 
 cannot but think that Germany's interests, viewed apart from her moral 
 reputation, would have been better served had she adhered to her pledges. 
 Belgium, to her eternal glory be it said, refused to be cajoled or bullied 
 into abandoning her sovereignty and independence. She withstood both 
 blandishments and threats and resolutely declined to help Germany to crush 
 France via Belgium. King Albert in this supreme hour of need turned 
 appealingly to us, and our response was swift and direct — it was war 
 against Germany. Belgium counted upon us, she has not counted in 
 vain ; we remain true to our word. The righting of her wrongs has 
 become our sacred duty. 
 
 129 
 
Belgium then gave the world its great surprise. Her little army, un- 
 expectedly called to battle, withstood for many days the most carefully 
 prepared onslaught of as powerful and efficient a military machine as had 
 ever been seen. Every day, indeed every hour and even every minute 
 gained, was admittedly of the utmost consequence. The immediate rush 
 into France was stopped for a time. Before they had " hacked " their way 
 through Liege, the apostles of the latter-day civilisation had learnt that the 
 soul of a nation is a very effective fighting force and that this elementary 
 truth had been omitted from the precise methodical calculations of the 
 German machine. They did not forget, because apparently they did not 
 know, in these days of modern scientific development of warfare (the days 
 of Zeppelins, armoured cars and Krupp siege guns) that a small army led 
 and inspired by great and noble thoughts could hold up even the mighty 
 army of Germany. The sacking and burning of Louvain, the destruction 
 of Malines, Termonde, and the many thousand homes of Belgium, the 
 devastation of the whole country, the killing of its inhabitants and the 
 horrible atrocities recorded in the reports of the Belgian Commission, all 
 in pursuance of the policy of " f rightfulness," have not added laurels to the 
 brow of Germany ; they will be found in the records where all men may 
 read. Not content with defying the elementary basic principles of Inter- 
 national Law by its breach of faith, it has further shown its contempt for 
 aught but might by ruthless outrages upon the laws and customs of civilised 
 warfare. It is in this scorn of right and adoration of might that the tragedy 
 of Germany is to be found. Even if it could have won the most triumphant 
 victories its name would still be blackened for ever. But no defeats, 
 however decisive, can take from the Belgian people the memory of their 
 high-souled resistance. No suffering, however poignant, can deprive them 
 of the spiritual elation of their defiance. So long as great deeds are sung 
 and noble purposes are extolled, the heroism of the Belgians and their King 
 will be held up to the wonder of the world. 
 
 By GUGLIELMO MARCONI 
 
 ALMOST does the war lose part of its horror and sorrow when the un- 
 exampled heroism, patience, and fortitude of the Belgians and their King 
 rise in their effulgent light before the mind's eye. The material loss and 
 damage sustained by this brave little nation may perhaps never be repaid, 
 but of her people we might say with Longfellow, 
 
 " Noble souls through dust and heat 
 Rise from disaster and defeat 
 The stronger." 
 
 130 
 
By GUGLIELMO FERRERÒ 
 
 TERRIBILE è la prova ; ma, dopo le dovute riparazioni, immensa sarà la 
 gloria del Belgio, e grandissima la autorità del suo Re. Offrendosi, martire 
 intrepido, alla rabbia teutonica, il Belgio ha risvegliata la coscienza morale 
 del mondo, che, già troppo stordita dalla cupidigia, dalla sete dei piaceri, 
 dall' orgoglio del sapere e della ricchezza, avrebbe altrimenti corso il pericolo 
 di smarrirsi interamente tra le ferocie e i furori di questa guerra terribile. 
 Il mondo ha capito, vedendo una forza ubriaca d'orgoglio straziare a quel 
 modo un piccolo popolo innocente, che il lavoro, la ricchezza, il sapere, il 
 coraggio, la potenza non bastano : occorre ai popoli, come ai singoli uomini, 
 conoscere pure che cosa è onore, lealtà, giustizia, fede, veracità. Perciò 
 dopo la sicura vittoria delle coalizione, dopo la reintegrazione solenne del 
 popolo belga nella sua terra e nel suo diritto, incomincierà una nuova gloria 
 dell' Europa, e una gloria più bella ; la cui prima pagina sarà stata scritta, 
 con il suo sangue più prezioso, dal Belgio. Eviva il Belgio ! 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 Dire is the ordeal, but when due reparation has been offensive nation, it understood that work and wealth 
 
 made, great will be the glory of Belgium, and great and knowledge and courage and power are not all- 
 
 the authority of her King ! Belgium, an intrepid sufficient ; peoples as well as individuals need to 
 
 martyr, offering herself to the fury of the Teuton, has know the worth of honour, loyally, justice, faith, and 
 
 awakened the moral conscience of the world — that truth. And therefore, after the certain victory of 
 
 world which, dulled by cupidity, by thirst for pleasure, the coalition, after the solemn restoration of Belgian 
 
 by the pride of wealth and knowledge , might otherwise territory and Belgian rights, a new and fairer glory 
 
 have been reduced to chaos in the furies and ferocities will begin for Europe ; its first page, written in its 
 
 of this terrible war. When the world sazo a Great most precious blood, will tell the story of Belgium. 
 
 Power drunk with pride, thus torturing a small, in- Long live Belgium ! 
 
 By SALOMON REINACH 
 
 SI la Belgique devait être un jour une province allemande, l'infamie du 
 partage de la Pologne pâlirait dans l'histoire à côté de celle qui n'aurait de 
 nom dans aucune langue. On a pu dire de la Pologne qu'elle expiait ses 
 divisions, ses complaisances pour des voisins puissants et perfides ; que 
 peut-on dire de la Belgique, sinon qu'elle a souffert pour le droit et pour 
 l'honneur, qu'elle a fait de son corps un rempart contre la barbarie et le 
 parjure, qu'elle s'est laissée martyriser et broyer plutôt que de se salir ? 
 On dira tout cela, comme on le dit à cette heure, mais à une Belgique 
 consolée, vengée et infiniment grande. Ce petit pays de plaines ce sont les 
 Thermopyles de l'Europe ! Et l'homme héroïque qui a l'honneur sans pareil 
 de combattre en roi pour la plus juste des causes, pour la plus noble des 
 patries, dites s'il n'est pas plus digne d'admiration que Léonidas ! 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 Should Belgium ever become a province of Germany, preferred martyrdom and ruin to a stain upon her 
 
 the infamy of the partition of Poland would be honour ? 
 
 eclipsed in history by one which /lo latiguage could All thiswillbe said again, as people are sayingit to-day, 
 
 adequately stigmatise. It may be not unjustly said but it will be said to a Belgium comforted, a Belgium 
 
 of Poland that she atoned for her dissensions, her avenged, and infinitely great. This little country 
 
 complaisance to false and powerful neighbours ; what of plains is the Thermopylae of Europe ! And that 
 
 can be said of Belgium, save that she has suffered for heroic man who has the supreme honour of fighting, as 
 
 Right and Honour, that she has given her body as a a King, for the most just of causes, for the noblest 
 
 rampart against barbarism and perjury, that she has of countries — is he not more admirable than Leonidas ! 
 
By RAMON D. PERES 
 
 QUEL beau rêve d'être l'auteur d'une grande épopée ! Quelle sublime 
 réalité d'en être le héros ! C'est avec une immense pitié que j'ai suivi, les 
 larmes aux yeux, les exploits de ce jeune et vaillant Roi, guidant ce petit 
 peuple de Belgique que l'Histoire mettra à côté des plus admirables nations ; 
 et je suis fier d'avoir pleuré, par la seule raison que comprendre la beauté 
 et l'héroïsme c'est l'humble consolation de ceux qui n'ont pu être des héros 
 ou créer des beautés parfaites, éclatantes. 
 
 La Belgique possédait des poètes profonds, touchants, au vol audacieux : 
 elle peut se vanter aussi d'avoir l'audace du beau geste, à la saveur antique, 
 qui offre la vie pour garder l'indépendance et la dignité. L'Espagne a un 
 peu le droit d'admirer cette ombre en deuil qui passe, fière au milieu des 
 ruines, et moi, le dernier des écrivains espagnols, je la salue avec ce grand 
 frisson que fait naître, dans tout homme de cœur, ce qui est grandiose et 
 noble autant que terrible. ^ ^ ^ 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 
 How splendici to dream of being the author of a great Belgium possessed deep and moving poets, capable of 
 
 epic I How sublime to be actually the hero of such a daring flights ; she may also claim to have ventured 
 
 work ! With tears in my eyes, and an immense pity upon a noble and daring action in the antique spirit, 
 
 in my heart, I have followed the exploits of that young offering life itself to safeguard independence and 
 
 and valiant King, guiding the little country of Belgium, dignity. Spain has some prescriptive right to admire 
 
 which History zdll rank among the most admirable this mourning shado'w, passing proudly amoni; 
 
 of nations ; and 1 am proud of having ivrpt, because the ruins, and I, the least of the Spanish ivriters, 
 
 to understand beauty and heroism is the humble salute her with the thrill that every feeling heart 
 
 consolation of those who cannot be heroes, or create must feel in the presence of what is grandiose and 
 
 perfect and glorious beauty. noble as well as terrible. 
 
 By M. H. SPIELMANN 
 
 THE indomitable people which in the past emerged unchanged and un- 
 changeable from the foreign flood, Spanish, Austrian, and Napoleonic — 
 loyal to its blood and staunch in the maintenance of its historical character 
 — will make good triumphantly to the end. Its Art, the expression of its 
 ideals and the pageant of its soul, has ever remained unspoiled and uncoloured 
 by stranger domination. 
 
 Belgium's heroic leader personifies her spirit. Superb in the business of 
 war, he has proved his conviction that the peaceful arts are not less truly the 
 expression of its being. It is fitting, therefore, that acclaimed by the civilised 
 world, idolised by his grateful and admiring country, and consecrated in 
 the lustre of his heroism, he should be destined to become henceforth an 
 immortal theme of his country's Art and Letters. 
 
 13' 
 
 X. 
 
By M. ALEXANDRE F. RIBOT 
 
 LE monde entier s'incline avec respect devant le peuple Belge et devant 
 son chef admirable le Roi Albert, qui donnent un si grand exemple à toutes 
 les nations civilisées. Leur cause est celle du droit : elle ne peut succomber, 
 parce qu'elle a pour elle la conscience universelle. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 The îvhale world bows in respectful homage before to all rivilised nations. Their cause is the cause of 
 
 the Belgian people and before their glorious leader. Right : it cannot fail, because the conscience of the 
 
 King Albert, who are showing such a great example world is one with it. 
 
 By PADEREWSKI 
 
 THERE is no country where the tragedy of Belgium created more sorrow 
 and indignation than in Poland. Nowhere did the unshakable heroism of 
 the Belgians and their glorious King inspire more sincere admiration, more 
 profound reverence. And yet of these sentiments no tangible proof has been 
 given ; no Polish voice has been heard. Though over one million and a 
 quarter of her sons are under arms, Poland has no right to speak ; though 
 before spoliation her territory was much larger than the whole of present 
 Germany, she is now destitute, poor. The terrific storm which destroyed 
 Belgium's most deserved prosperity is raging furiously over our country, 
 and wherever it comes it leaves nothing — nothing but eyes to weep. There 
 is no land where Belgium's fate has moved so many hearts, but we do not 
 weep, we do not complain, we do not despair. King Albert's and his 
 people's immortal example gives us courage and strength, as it always will 
 comfort, strengthen, and encourage all countries and nations suffering and 
 longing for Liberty. 
 
 By SIR FREDERICK POLLOCK, BART. 
 
 NEARLY two thousand four hundred years ago the Bœotian city of Platœa 
 was one among the many lesser Greek republics. Her citizens earned 
 immortal fame by taking part with the leading States of Athens and Sparta 
 in the decisive battles, fought on their own territory, which delivered Greece 
 from the fear of Persian conquest and saved the light of Greek freedom and 
 civiHsation from being extinguished. To this day the name of Plataea is 
 held in honour throughout the world ; for many centuries that honour 
 was unique. Belgium has now done and dared, for the freedom of modern 
 Europe, as much as Plataea did of old ; she has unhappily suffered far more. 
 As her valour has been equal and her suffering greater, her reward will 
 be no less immortal. Belgium will be remembered with Plataea centuries 
 after the military tyranny of the Hohenzollerns has vanished like an evil 
 dream. ^. 
 
 ^. * * 
 
 133 
 
By M. JUSSERAND 
 
 LES grands carnages internationaux se faisaient plus rares, les triomphes de 
 la force brutale plus difficiles ; d'aucuns commençaient à les croire choses 
 du passé ; des accords avaient été signés admettant que de peuple à peuple, 
 comme d'homme à homme, pourrait régner la Justice. 
 Dans le passé, les férocités barbares ; dans l'avenir, la Justice. 
 A la Belgique, petite par le territoire, grande par le cœur, laborieuse, lettrée, 
 stricte obsei-vatrice des traités, pays de travailleurs, de penseurs, d'artistes, 
 aux villes célèbres par leur industrie et leur beauté, Liège où naquit Grétry, 
 Louvain où professa Vésale, Anvers où Rubens mourut, l'alternative fut 
 offerte. Prendrait-elle parti pour le passé ou pour l'avenir ; pour la Force 
 Brutale ou la Justice ? La Force Brutale était debout, avec ses promesses et 
 ses menaces : serait-ce la tranquillité, la prospérité — la soumission ; ou 
 serait-ce les ravages, les exécutions sanglantes, les dévastations, peut-être 
 la mort ? 
 
 A la Belgique frémissante, à la Belgique ensanglantée, à la Belgique mourante, 
 mais qui ne mourra pas, trois fois, quatre fois, l'alternative fut présentée. 
 Nulle souffrance, si atroce fût-elle, douleur de femmes et d'enfants, de 
 pauvres gens sans foyer, sans pain, sans autels, ne put changer la détermi- 
 nation de la Belgique et de son Roi ; pour eux il n'y avait même pas d'alter- 
 native ; un devoir est un devoir et il faut le rempHr, c'est tout. Une fois 
 de plus, et sous nos yeux, David s'est dressé devant Goliath. 
 Le jour viendra où, avec le reste du monde, l'ennemi même s'inclinera 
 devant tant de vertu, enviera une si pure gloire, qui est celle du Roi comme 
 du plus humble de ses sujets ; Roi digne d'un tel peuple, peuple digne 
 d'un tel Roi. 
 
 ùt^'/ 
 
 ^ 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 Great international slaughter had become rare, and the 
 triumph of brute force a difficult matter ; some began 
 to look upon them as things of the past ; agreements 
 had been signed, admitting that betueen natioit and 
 nation, as between man and man. Justice might reign. 
 In the past, there were barbarous ferocities ; in the 
 future there zmtdd be justice . 
 
 The alterfiative zvas offered to Belgium, a country 
 small in cxte?ii, but great of heart, industrious, 
 lettered, a strict observer of treaties, a land of ^corkers, 
 thinkers, and artists, of totcns famous for their ac- 
 tivities and their beauty : Liège which gave us 
 Grétry, Louvain where Vesalius taught, Antwerp 
 where Rubens died. Would she range herself on the 
 side of the Past or of the Present, the side of brutal 
 Might or of Justice ? Brutal Might zvas afoot, with 
 his promises and threats : would she have tranquillity, 
 
 prosperity — and submission ; or rapine, bloody execu- 
 tions, devastation, perhaps death ? 
 Thrice, four times was this alternative presented to 
 quivering and bleeding Belgium, a Belgium dying, 
 but not to die. No suffering, however atrocious, not 
 even the agony of women and children and of poor 
 folk without homes, without bread, and without 
 altars, could shake the determination of Belgium and 
 of her King ; for them the alternative did not even 
 exist ; a duty is a duty, and must be performed, 
 that is all. Once more, and this time before our eyes, 
 David rose up against Goliath. 
 
 The day will come when with the rest of the world 
 the enemy will pay homage to such virtue, and will 
 envy the stainless glory of the King and of the humblest 
 of his subjects, a King worthy of such a people, a 
 people worthy of such a King. 
 
 134 
 
By THE BARONESS ORCZY 
 
 Sunlight and Shadows 
 
 Being Extracts from the Diary of Nurse Bellamy of the Voluntary Aid 
 
 Detachment at Ladrock ^^^^^^^ ^^^|^^ 
 
 MY pet Belgian wounded is making very little progress. His heart doesn't 
 seem to be in it. I don't think that he means to get well. He is so sure 
 that he will never see his wife and little children again. He won't be 
 comforted. I wish I could understand all that he says, but he is a Walloon 
 and hardly knows any French. ^^^^^^^^ ^^^^_ 
 
 To-day we have moved his bed close to the window, and turned it so that 
 he can watch the children when they come out of school. They scramble 
 on the railings and peep in at him, and he smiles at them, oh ! so pathetic- 
 ally : it nearly breaks my heart to see him. q . i /- ,r 
 
 I got on better with my poor wounded Walloon to-day. I know now that 
 his wife and five little children were at Liege, and why he is so sure that he 
 will never see them again. When I try to comfort him, he just looks at me 
 with utter hopelessness in his eyes, and makes with his limp, emaciated 
 hands pathetic gestures indicative of the horrors which he has seen — 
 women murdered — children mutilated : " J'ai vu, madame !" he says, 
 
 •' ■ October ly th. 
 
 Great excitement at Ladrock to-day. Five hundred Belgian refugees 
 arrived early this morning and we at the V.A.D. are hoping that there will 
 be a few among them who speak a word or two of English and Flemish or 
 Walloon, so as to act as interpreters between us and our wounded. 
 
 October i8th. 
 My poor wounded Walloon has been watching the children through the 
 window all the morning, and I watched with him for a little while. One 
 wee mite ran and brought some flowers which she held tightly squeezed 
 in her very grimy little fist, and these she held out at arm's length to the 
 sick man whom she could see through the window. The sight of the 
 flowers and of the child seemed to cheer him. He smiled and I opened 
 the window to take the flowers from the tiny tot. The autumn air was 
 very sweet and balmy, and when I had thrown the window wide open, I 
 stood aside so that my wounded man should get a good view of the street 
 and a good whiff of fresh air. I watched him as he gazed out in his usual 
 pathetic, hopeless way, when suddenly a change came over his face. Before 
 I could stop him he had half-raised himself out of bed and stretched out 
 his arms ; then he fell back with a loud cry upon his pillow. 
 The sister ran to my rescue and I left her to look after him for a moment, 
 whilst I — moved by a strange intuition^eaned out of the window and looked 
 out into the street. A melancholy little crowd of men, women, and children 
 were wandering aimlessly along the pavement, turning wide, inquiring eyes 
 on our quaint little provincial street, so typical of an English country town, 
 
 135 
 
One woman, young and more than ordinarily wretched-looking, had four 
 little children clinging to her skirts, and she carried a wee mite, wrapped 
 in a ragged shawl in her arms. 
 
 It was instinct in me, of course, intuition, inspiration — whatever you like 
 to call it. Certain it is that I threw every thought of order and regulations 
 to the wind, left my post in the ward, ran out into the street, and to the 
 poor woman's utter astonishment and bewilderment seized her by the hand, 
 and dragged her incontinently into the V.A.D. hospital and into our down- 
 stairs ward. Nobody said a word, for the same inspiration or intuition 
 had come to every one of us then : every one of us at least who happened 
 to be watching our poor Vv^alloon soldier at the moment. The woman 
 gave one cry and ran straight to him, the children scrambling after her as 
 best they could. But he made no sound, only stretched out his arms and 
 she fell sobbing across the bed. October 2qth. 
 
 My pet Belgian wounded has just left the hospital to go to a convalescent 
 home in the neighbourhood. His wife and children will remain in Ladrock 
 during that time. He got well wonderfully quickly, and she is such a nice 
 little woman. The children are darlings, and he is so proud of them. 
 
 '2?W,'^»»^,.,,,^œ.«'é^l,--^X^Z^ 
 
 By EDWARD H. SOTHERN 
 
 Elisabeth of Belgium 
 
 Silent we look on her all pitiful 
 
 Who, stooping to the lowly Mary^s mien, 
 
 Rises beyond the station of a queen ; 
 
 And, humble, wears a saintly aureole. 
 
 Laving the bleeding feet and making whole 
 
 The battle-broken ; and the plague-struck clean. 
 
 No diadem shall match the myrtle green 
 
 Which crippled hands shall proffer as their dole. 
 
 Poor shattered hearts and weary weeping eyes 
 
 Pulse to thy name and search the dark for thee. 
 
 The famished and stonn-beaten scan the skies 
 
 And cry, as from a second Calvary, 
 
 " My God ! My God ! Hast thou forsaken me ? " 
 
 " Day breaks ! He is here." Thy steady voice replies. 
 
 136 
 
By MAURICE DONNAY 
 
 " Les Elisabeth " 
 
 J'aime le carillon dans tes cités antiques, 
 O vieux pays gardien de tes mœurs domestiques. 
 Noble Flandre oii le nord se réchauffe engourdi 
 Au soleil de Castille et s'accouple au midi. 
 
 Victor Hugo 
 
 CERTES, avant la grande guerre, nous aimions la Belgique, pour son 
 histoire si souvent mêlée à la nôtre ; pour son peuple hospitalier et doux ; 
 nous l'aimions parce qu'entre les nations armées, elle symbolisait les sé- 
 curités de la paix. O Belgique ! pays noir du charbon, blondes plages de 
 sable, vertes prairies, eau dormante des canaux, et tant de vieilles villes aux 
 merveilles d'architecture : belles cathédrales qui sont comme de la pierre 
 solide ; hauts beffrois dont les cloches convoquaient à l'approche de l'ennemi 
 les bourgeois qui pendant des siècles se sont unis de combattre pour leurs 
 libertés ; vieilles halles, hôtels de ville, dont la façade, pierre et or, nous 
 montre le style gothique dans sa richesse et son élégance tertiaires, silencieux 
 béguinages. La Belgique ! elle est, comme l'Italie, une des patries sacrées 
 de l'Art. Trois vers latins disent à peu près : Bruxelles s'enorgueillit de 
 ses nobles hommes, Anvers de ses richesses, Gand de ses cordes au col 
 (les bourgeois de Gand), Bruges de ses belles pucelles (famosis piiellis), 
 Louvain de ses docteurs et Malines de ses fols. Mais ces villes s'en- 
 orgueillissent aussi de Sainte Gertrude, de Saint Bavon, de Saint Rombaud 
 et de leurs grand'places, et des anciennes maisons des corporations, et des 
 grands vieux maîtres Hubert et Jean Van Eyck, Roger Van der Weyden, 
 Jean Memling, Gerard David, Quinten Matsys, artistes admirables dont les 
 œuvres immortelles sont une invitation à la sincérité patriote et passionnée. 
 Immortelles ! peut-on écrire ce mot, quand les Barbares sont là ? Combien 
 de monuments ne sont déjà plus que des ruines ? Malines, Louvain, vos 
 gais carillons ne tinteront plus dans l'air léger. Guerre abominable où il 
 faut pleurer les hommes et les pierres ! 
 
 Oui, nous aimions la Belgique, avant la grande guerre ; mais, aujourd'hui, 
 nous la chérissons, nous l'admirons. Artistique, commerçante, industrielle, 
 pacifique, tout à coup elle devient guerrière, se lève pour défendre son 
 droit, notre droit, le Droit ! Son territoire n'est pas vaste, mais elle n'entend 
 pas que l'étranger le traverse sans coup férir ; son armée n'est pas nom- 
 breuse : elle l'oppose pourtant aux hordes innombrables. C'est la nation 
 martyre qui accepte, s'il le faut, de mourir pour sa foi. Le lion de Brabant 
 surgit : Liège protesta de tous ses canons. Liège tomba, puis Namur ; 
 Bruxelles est occupé, enfin Anvers ! O douleur ! Mais les Belges ré- 
 sistent toujours. Cette résistance fait l'admiration des peuples, elle n'in- 
 spire que de la rage aux Allemands, incapables de respect, d'estime, de 
 générosité, de ces sentiments qu'ont les hommes qui même dans les fureurs 
 de la guerre, restent dignes du nom d'hommes. Les villes et les villages 
 
 137 
 
sont pillés, incendiés, les femmes, les enfants, les vieillards massacrés, ou 
 bien mutilés avec des raffinements que n'imaginerait pas un gorille, l'animal 
 lubrique et féroce. D'ici sous les yeux des rapports, des témoignages : 
 quand on les connaîtra, quand ils seront publiés, dans leurs détails, le monde 
 entier, le monde civilisé, frémira d'horreur ! 
 
 Cependant un roi jeune, charmant, et brave est dans les camps, dans les 
 tranchées, à côté de ses soldats ; une reine brave et vaillante est auprès de 
 son chevalier. 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 Cet après-midi, dans un Paris d'automne voilé de brumes, un groupe de 
 jeunes gens parcourt les rues. L'un d'eux porte le drapeau aux trois bandes 
 verticales, rouge, jaune, noir, les couleurs de l'ancien comté de Brabant et 
 de la Révolution qui triompha en 1789 du régime autrichien. A l'extrémité 
 de la hampe un bouquet de roses blanches. Le peuple de Paris regarde 
 avec un sourire et une émotion fraternels ces jeunes gens qui demain seront 
 soldats, combattront pour la deliverance de leur pays. 
 Il y a un siècle, en 1813, les conscrits de France s'appelaient les " Marie- 
 Louise." Conscrits et volontaires belges, du nom de votre reine, devenue 
 belge par la couronne et par le cœur, ne pourrait-on pas vous appeler 
 •' Les Elisabeth ! " ^ 
 
 ''CP./Z^^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 TRANSLATION (abridged) by Florence Simmonds 
 " The Elisabeths " 
 
 / love the chimes of thine antique cities, 
 O ancient land that guards its homely manners, 
 Noble Flanders, where the frozen North uarms 
 itself in the sun of Castillc, and mates icith the South. 
 
 Even before the Great War, tve all loied Belgium, 
 whose history has so often mingled with our own ; we 
 loved her gentle and hospitable people ; we loved her, 
 because in the midst of nations in arms, she seemed 
 to symbolise the safety of peace. O Belgium I 
 land of dark coalfields, of golden, sandy beaches, of 
 green meadows, sleepy canals, and countless ancient 
 towns full of architectural marvels : beautiful 
 cathedrals, like masses of solid stone ; lofty belfries, 
 whose bells rang out at the approach of the enemy to 
 summon the burghers who for centuries had united to 
 battle for their liberties ; old marke.s and town halls, 
 whose façades of stone a?id gold shozv us the Gothic 
 style in its tertiary grace and richness ; silent 
 nunneries. Belgium, like Italy, is one of the sacred 
 fatherlands of Art. There are three Latin verses 
 which tell us something of this sort : Brussels is proud 
 of her noble men, Antwerp of her wealth, Ghent of her 
 " cords round the neck " {her burghers), Bruges of 
 her fair mcddens (famosis puellis), Louvain of her 
 doctors, and Mechlin of her madmen. But these 
 cities were also proud of Saint Gertrude, Saint Bavon, 
 
 and Saint Rombaud, their stately squares, their ancient 
 guildhalls, and their Old Masters, Hubert and Jan 
 Van Eyck, Roger Van der Weyden, Mending, Gerard 
 David, and Ouinten Matsys, admirable artists 
 whose immortal works are an invocation of real and 
 passionate patriotism. I say immortal works, but 
 is this a word to use zvlien the Barbarians are in 
 possession ? How many monutnents are now but 
 heaps of ruins I Mechlin and Louvain, your gay 
 chimes will vibrate no more in the clear air ! Abomin- 
 able war, which has made us weep alike for men and 
 
 stones 1 
 
 ***** 
 
 This afternoon, a group of young men were marching 
 through the misty streets of autumnal Paris. One 
 of them bore a flag with three vertical stripes of red, 
 yellow, and black, the colours of the ancient County of 
 Brabant and of the Revolution of 1789 which over- 
 threw the Austrian regime. At the top of the 
 standard was tied a hunch of white roses. The people 
 of Paris looked with a smile and with brotherly 
 emotion at these youths, who to-morrozo will be soldiers 
 fighting for the liberation of their country. 
 A century ago, in 1813, the French conscripts called 
 themselves the " Marie-Louises." Belgian conscripts 
 and volunteers might you not be aptly christened 
 The Elisabeths," after your Queen, who has become 
 a Belgian by her croton and heart ? 
 
 138 
 
Andante Religioso. 
 
 HYMN 
 
 [ HOMAGE TO BELGIUM , 1914 .] 
 
 Edward German: 
 
By VISCOUNT ALVERSTONE 
 
 I HAVE for many years enjoyed the friendship of Belgians distinguished 
 
 in science, jurisprudence, hterature, and educated culture. My heart has 
 
 been deeply grieved at the cruel fate which has befallen their nation ; the 
 
 result of what is, in my opinion, the most wicked action of which any 
 
 civilised nation has ever been guilty. 
 
 Germany can never remove this stain on her honour. 
 
 To every subject of the Belgian Crown, and to their gallant King, I humbly 
 
 offer my true and heartfelt sympathy. 
 
 By SIR HIRAM S. MAXIM 
 
 IN the midst of the wickedest and most disastrous war that the world has 
 
 ever known, we cannot fail to realise that civilisation demands the complete 
 
 elimination of that system of government whereby it is possible for one 
 
 selfish man, merely for the gratification of his own vanity and ambition, 
 
 to cause such an infinite amount of suffering and destruction. 
 
 All honour and glory to the gallant Belgian nation and her brave and noble 
 
 King ! 
 
 Words fail to express the great sympathy that must be felt everywhere for 
 
 the terrible sufferings that have been inflicted on this valiant little country 
 
 in her noble struggle to maintain her honour and independence. 
 
 " Thou shah live, thou shall prosper 
 Through thy wiited unity. 
 With heart and voice in chorus we unite : 
 For King, for Law and Liberty." 
 
 . /C^yó^ù^i^l-^^ ^iy^^^c^/yi^pt^<-- 
 
 By H. A. L. FISHER 
 
 SO long as a respect for right survives upon this planet it will be remembered 
 that the King of a tiny nation once vindicated the public law of Europe 
 against the brutal aggression of a mighty Power, knowing well that it would 
 be for his heroic subjects to sustain the first furies of the attack and to 
 endure the certain cruelties of a temporary conquest. It will be remembered 
 that the capture of forts and cities, the defeat of armies, the murder of women 
 and children, the burning of a cathedral and a library famous throughout 
 the civilised world, neither weakened his resolution nor broke the spirit of 
 his people, and that he and his fought on tenaciously to the end, saving 
 the honour and liberties of Europe by their act of desperate and inspired 
 valour. 
 
 140 
 
CHARLEROl 
 Rij Joseph Pf.nnell 
 
By MAY SINCLAIR 
 
 Field Ambulance in Retreat 
 
 Via Dolorosa, Via Sacra 
 I 
 
 A straight flagged road, laid on the rough earth, 
 
 A causeway of stone from beautiful city to city. 
 
 Between the tall trees, the slender, delicate trees. 
 
 Through the flat green land, by plots of flowers, by black canals thick with heat. 
 
 II 
 
 The road-makers made it well 
 
 Of fine stone, strong for the feet of the oxen and of the great Flemish horses. 
 
 And for the high waggons piled with corn from the harvest. 
 
 But the labourers are few ; 
 
 They and their quiet oxen stand aside and zvait 
 
 By the long road loud with the passing of the guns, the rush of armoured cars 
 
 and the tramp of an army on the march forzoard to battle ; 
 And, where the piled corn-waggons went, our dripping Ambulance carries home 
 Its red and white harvest from the fields. 
 
 Ill 
 
 The straight flagged road breaks into dust, into a thin white cloud, 
 
 About the feet of a regiment driven back league by league. 
 
 Rifles at trail, arid standards wrapped in black funeral cloths. Unhasting, 
 
 proud in retreat. 
 They smile as the Red Cross Ambulance rushes by. 
 ( Yoii know tiothing of beauty and of desolation who have not seen 
 That smile of an army i?i retreat.) 
 
 They go : and our shining, beckoning danger goes with them. 
 And our joy in the harvests that we gathered in at nightfall in the flelds ; 
 And like an unloved hand laid on a beating heart 
 Our safety weighs us down. 
 
 Safety hard and strange ; stranger and yet more hard. 
 As, league after dying league, the beautiful, desolate Land 
 Falls back from the intolerable speed of an Ambulance in retreat 
 On the sacred, dolorous Way. i ^-s 
 
 141 
 
By WINSTON CHURCHILL 
 
 ONCE translated into action, the ideas of Von Treitschke and of Bernhardi 
 have been repudiated by tlie civilised world. These ideas are peculiarly 
 repugnant to Americans. Militarism, and monarchy which has in it any 
 touch of absolutism, have always incurred on this side of the Atlantic 
 suspicion and dislike ; a growing, enlightened portion of our population 
 perceive an added menace to the world's peace and true prosperity in that 
 militant, nationalised commercialism which has been so deftly woven by 
 the Germans into the monarchical principle, in the hope of prolonging the 
 life of that principle. This nationalised commercialism, moreover, is a 
 logical consequence of the economic doctrine of enlightened self-interest, 
 the adaptability of W'hich to modern conditions is being seriously challenged. 
 In this mongrel code of modern Germany not only is Nietzsche misrepre- 
 sented — but even Christ. It is a code in which the finest spirits of Germany 
 find no place ; nor does it contain any hint of that new economics of human 
 needs for which the world owes so large a debt to Germany herself. 
 For the German people the people of America, like the people of Great 
 Britain, have a sincere affection. The obsession of such a nation is difficult 
 to understand. We can only hope that the time is not far distant when 
 Germany will awake to her better self. 
 
 The British Empire is fighting as truly for the German people as for her own. 
 Under the circumstances, our pity and sympathy for the Belgian people, 
 and our indignation at what we must deem the ruthless destruction of that 
 nation to satisfy German militarist, commercial, and monarchical ambition 
 are overwhelming. 
 
 I can conceive of no greater rebuke to this ambition than that manifested 
 by the contributions which to-day are being poured out by the world at 
 large to care for those Belgians who have so ruthlessly and so needlessly 
 been deprived of their homes and possessions. No aid was ever given 
 more willingly. We give it, indeed, as a just debt to a gallant people to 
 whom the world owes, and will ever owe, more than it can pay — to a people 
 who have sacrificed their all in the cause of progress and liberty. 
 The name of their heroic sovereign, King Albert, will henceforth be written 
 with those of the great liberators of the world. 
 
 By MARGARET DELAND 
 
 Liberty-loving America is stirred by the profoundest sympathy for the 
 famiHes of the gallant Belgians who are giving their lives that Liberty may 
 live ; she has only admiration for the King who, in the face of overwhelming 
 odds, is leading his people where honour calls. She can never forget her 
 debt of gratitude to the martyr-nation whose King and people are giving 
 all that they possess that the Spirit of Freedom may not wholly perish from 
 their land. ^i 
 
 142 / 
 
By G. K. CHESTERTON 
 
 The Largest Window in the World 
 
 IT is a terrible thing to have trod on battlefields before they were fought. 
 It gives a man a cold and ghostly shiver, as of being the babe unborn. But 
 I was a boy, and almost a babe, when I was first in Belgium ; and I can only 
 write down the reality that impressed me then. Beyond some streets 
 burning with brass-ware which seemed perpetually on sale, almost out of 
 sight of the great Belfry, there is (or was) a sort of museum of the great 
 Memlinc. Among the pictures was one which even as a boy I could not 
 forget : and very few poets or prophets can even imagine how much a boy 
 can forget. It was a picture in which the window seemed hardly wider 
 than the crack of a door. Yet through that crack the human eye could 
 almost, in the strong Scripture rhetoric, take the wings of the morning and 
 abide in the uttermost parts of the sea. 
 
 And I remember a voice near me speaking, in an accent that was neither 
 French nor Flemish nor my own . . . 
 " You see how narrow the windows were in those days." 
 I did. I also began to see, for the first time, how narrow the minds are 
 in these days. I looked at the little window again ; and I thought it the 
 largest window in the world. Simply because the aperture was narrow, I 
 knew the landscape was wide. If modern artists had swept it in a larger 
 style, I should have noticed it no more than some hundred miles of wall- 
 paper. Then note not only the pride of the small nation, but the pride of 
 the rich peasantry. Look from the slit of a turret in Cumberland or Calabria 
 and there is a chance that your eye may strike something slightly depressing. 
 But any strip of Belgium will be a string of jewels. Note, thirdly, that the 
 thinness of the outlook is largely due to the thickness of the walls. There is 
 no trace of what vulgar people call " a vista " : the house does not open up 
 indefinitely to the world outside. The man of Memlinc sees the world from 
 his window. But it is still the final fact that the window was his window 
 and the world is not his world. I should have thought it, then, quite 
 inconceivable that any one would assail that turret. But I should have 
 thought it equally inconceivable that any one should fail to defend it. A 
 man living in such a house might almost shut the front door to protect the 
 beauty of the window. 
 
 I have never been in Belgium since ; I have never met any who could 
 possibly be in connection with any revolutionary or anti-national idea. 
 Yet for me Belgium has continued to mean that small field of vision, making 
 certain so vast a field of prosperity. That keyhole is still the largest 
 window in the world. 
 
 Since then I have not seen the country, except in frightful photographs. 
 I have gradually begun to understand what was meant by my alien friend 
 when he spoke of the needless narrowness of the mediaeval window. To 
 judge by the photographs, he has broadened architectural eflFects very much ; 
 he has blown window into window and enlarged the premises ; he has left 
 
 143 
 
long lines of street in which it is impossible to say whether he has combined 
 the windows that exist, or spared the windows that never existed. He 
 cannot make anything except a window ; for a window is simply a hole. 
 When he has blown everything to atoms, when no stack or stone stands 
 about us for many miles, he will say, with an insane simpHcity : " I have 
 made the largest window in the world." ^ 
 
 By SIR E. RAY LANKESTER 
 
 I ESTEEM it a high privilege to be allowed to express to His Majesty King 
 Albert and to the heroic people of Belgium my heart-felt admiration for 
 their incomparable valour. With a courage and self-sacrifice unparalleled 
 in history they held back, only a few weeks ago, the treacherous attack on 
 their country by the German hordes — a deed by which the designs of the 
 ruthless Enemy of Europe against Britain and our beloved ally France were 
 effectually checked and frustrated. The barbarous cruelties in which the 
 defeated Germans have vented their rage on Belgium have filled every 
 Briton with the desire to assuage her anguish and to exact from William 
 of Prussia the full price of his unspeakable brutaHty. 
 All humanity glories in the revelation to it, at this crisis, of another man, 
 a man who is worthy to be King, a King who has fought side by side with 
 his people, ready to give his life rather than lose his honour, to die rather 
 than accept the shameful bribes of the German bully. 
 My knowledge of Belgium and my friendship with her people date from 
 the time when fifty years ago, intent on geological studies, I visited the 
 excavations in progress for the new fortifications of Antwerp and was the 
 guest in the old University buildings of Louvain of the great naturalist 
 Professor P. J. Van Beneden. His son, a youth of my own age, became 
 my life-long and intimate friend. In later years, when Edouard Van 
 Beneden had become professor at the University of Liege and attained 
 world-wide celebrity by his discoveries in biological science, I stayed with 
 him in that flourishing city and he, in turn, was my guest in Oxford and in 
 London. I have had many friends among Belgian naturalists, some con- 
 nected with the wonderful museum in Brussels, others who sought collabora- 
 tion with me in my own laboratory— and I have the honour of being a foreign 
 Associate of the Royal Academy of Sciences of Belgium. Thus, I do not 
 write here with an admiration and aftection newly called into being but as 
 an old and favoured comrade, who is familiar with the glories of ancient 
 Flanders and the splendid achievements of her sons in science and in art. 
 I venture to render my homage to King Albert and his people as one who 
 knows and loves the unconquerable spirit, the unswerving fidelity, of the 
 free and independent Belgian folk» ^^y , 
 
 144 
 
By DON ANTONIO LOPEZ MUNOZ 
 
 EjEMPLO ReDENTOR 
 
 PARA escribir una pagina en honor de Bèlgica, para Ilorar por sus hijos 
 muertos, por sus fâbricas deshechas, por sus campos arrasados, por sus 
 monuinentos destruidos, por sus hogares sin familia y sus famiiias sin hogar, 
 por la augusta paz de su trabajo perdida, por sus horizontes de esperanza 
 cerrados a la luz, por la aterradora soledad de sus aimas sin refugio, sin 
 termino en sus dolores, sin el bendilo patrimonio de sus tradiciones afcctivas, 
 unico sostén en las humanas luchas, basta ser hombre. Si, basta ser 
 hombre ; y es en todo caso doble estfmulo ser hijo de Espana, la patria del 
 Quijote que encarna la exaltación del ideal y vibra con ecos de amor en 
 todos los àmbitos del mundo, para rendir homenaje a un pueblo que por 
 el ideal sacrifica la vida, dando un ej empio que hard sentirse a la Humanidad 
 redimida y orguUosa. 
 
 Rey Alberto, desdichado tu, que aun ofreciendo el pecho en las avanzadas, 
 no has podido impedir que tu nación sea degollada en lucha designai ; pero 
 dichoso tu, que con la espada en la diestra eres la imagen viva del heroismo 
 tallada en carne por la inspiración genial de tu pueblo, comò seras maflana 
 la muerta imagen inmortai tallada en piedra y en bronce por la admiración de 
 los siglos. Y dichoso también, porque al tiempo mismo que tu fuiste Caudillo 
 en la brecha, la Reina ha sido en el hospital y en el campo el angel de la 
 piedad ; simbolo tu de la fortaleza en el combate, simbolo ella de la ternura 
 y de la paz del alma que constituia la caracterfstica del culto y laborioso 
 pueblo belgi ; dàndose asi testimonio de comò el trabajo civilizador, lejos 
 de amenguar la virilidad del temperamento, lo dispone al arranque en toda 
 ocasión gloriosa. 
 
 Bèlgica, nación de heroes y de mârtires, has caldo al golpe de la fuerza ; 
 pero sobre la fuerza que hunde has puesto la dignidad que glorifica ; has 
 caldo ; pero no has muerto ; y aunque no revivieras sobre tu tierra adorada, 
 reviviras eterna en el amor de todos los corazones. La conciencia humana 
 sera tu hogar y tu tempio. 
 
 TRANSLATION by Prof. Fitzmaurice-Kelly 
 
 To be a man is enough to write a page in honour of which will make humanity feel proud and conscious 
 
 Belgium : to lament her slaughtered ones, her ruined of its redemption. 
 
 industries, her devastated ineadows, her demolished Unhappy thou, King Albert, who, though imperilling 
 
 monuments, her homes untenanted, her homeless thy life in the vanguard, hast not availed to save thy 
 
 children, the august peace of all her efforts vanished, nation from succumbing in an unequal conflict ! 
 
 the horizon of hope cut off from light, the appalling Yet happy thou who, stvord in hand, art the living 
 
 solitude of her unsheltered population whose woes are image of the heroism made bodily manifest by the 
 
 ilbmitable, and who are bereft even of the sacred dominant inspiration of thy people ! To-morrow 
 
 inheritance of fond traditions — the one mainstay in thou shalt see its mute, immortal form sculptured in 
 
 human contests. Yes, to be a man is enough. And, stone or bronze for the admiration of all ages ! 
 
 in any case, for every son of Spain, the land of Don Happy too, inasmuch as, at the very time zvhen thou 
 
 Quixote, incarnating the exaltation of the ideal and wast foremost in the breach, thy Queen was the angel 
 
 thrilling with echoes of love throughout the world, of mercy in the hospital or field ! Thou the symbol 
 
 there is a double obligation to pay homage to a race of valour in the battle I She the symbol of that 
 
 that surrenders life for its ideal, and sets an example tenderness and peace of spirit so characteristic of the 
 
refined and liardworkim; Belgian people ! And thus Thou hast perished, but thou hast bequeathed us an 
 
 provini; that civilisim; labour, so far from diminishing example of how tnen die in the cause of justice ! 
 
 manliness of soul, fosters its impetucnis fire. Even if thou wert not to be born anew on thy consecrated 
 
 Belgium, nation of heroes and of martyrs, thou hast soil, thou zuilt live for ever in the love of all men's 
 
 fallen beneath the blows of Might, but above that hearts. The conscience of humanity shall be thy 
 
 overwhelming force thou hast set a glorifying splendour! dwelling and thy temple. 
 
 By SIR NORMAN LOCKYER 
 
 MEN of science have been accustomed to look upon German methods in 
 education and appHed science as worthy of imitation, and in my address as 
 President of the British Association in 1903 I pointed out the serious danger 
 we were running in allowing them to outstrip us in these directions. But 
 we now know that their guiding spirit was not the advance of civilisation 
 but the provision of means for the destruction of all who opposed the 
 inordinate ambition of the ruling class for world power. 
 The story of the bravery which King Albert and his nation have shown in 
 sacrificing everything rather than honour will be handed down from 
 generation to generation, a monument to a great people. 
 The present is one of misery and sufïering beyond all precedent, brought 
 about by unexampled brutality in waging war by means of destruction, 
 rapine, cruelty, and lies rather than by the best generalship and fighting 
 power. But a time will soon come when Belgium will rise like a Phoenix 
 from its ashes and she may console herself with the thought that even in 
 the distant future it will be recognised that the history of the world has been 
 ennobled by her deeds and her determination to defend her honour. Her 
 efforts will be chronicled as a brilliant chapter in the annals of the human 
 
 race. 
 
 /Cdft^t^ ^uiiyti-i> C'^ffy^^. 
 
 *^^^^/t 
 
 By SIR FREDERICK TREVES 
 
 With grave 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed 
 A pillar of state ; deep on his front engraven 
 Deliberation sat, and public care ; 
 And princely counsel in his face yet shone 
 Majestic though in ruin. — Paradise Lost. 
 
 146 
 
POUR RENDRE HOMMAGE À HA MAJESTÉ LE ROI ALBERT l'I DE BELGIQUE ET A SES SOLDATS 
 
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 149 
 
By ANTONIO MACIEIRA 
 
 E julgareis qual é mais excelente 
 Se ser do ymindo rei, se de tal gente. 
 
 Luiz DE Camòes, Luziadas, Canto I, estancia io 
 
 A " BARBARIE multiplicada pela sciencia " ou seja a acçào alemà, assim 
 definida ha pouco e com rigor scientifico por M. Boutroux, tornou agoni- 
 sante o grande povo de urna pequena naçào. Essa barbarie civilisada faltou 
 â fé dos tratados, trucidou, incendiou, matou, depois de tentar o suborno 
 do povo laborioso que entregue ao seu progresso, sem ambiçôes externas, 
 nao dando razao a odios nem odiando, jamais pretextara a feroz arremetida 
 do imperialisimo divinizado. 
 
 Nem rigor de formulas, nem deveres de humanidade, nem simples piedade, 
 nem intuitivo sentimento artistico ; ou seja : nem direito, nem ideias 
 liberaes, nem lagrimas de inocentes, nem respeito pela beleza — nada poude 
 detel-a ! 
 
 N'essa tragedia formidavel que abriu ferida larga e funda em todas as almas 
 piedosas, existe a mais admiravel liçào que um povo pode dar cm fulguraçôes 
 de honra — liçào que de ouvil-a a alma se arranca em convulsées de dòr, e 
 que de pensal-a o espirito se alevanta na mais profunda e afectiva e grata 
 das admiraçôes. 
 
 Grande povo na paz comò na guerra, a Belgica ! Naçào de herois que 
 embargaram essa avançada fulminante que tentou esmagar a vida da Franca 
 — a vida de nós todos — e impedir o esforco protector da Inglaterra, digna 
 colaboradora na defeza das nossas vidas ! Naçào cstremecida, relicârio das 
 maiores dores sofridas sob o peso das maiorcs injustiças ! 
 
 Sobre esse glorioso Paiz caem as sagradas bençàos dos que amam a liberdade 
 
 querendo-a para todos, dos que adoram a belesa das ideias e da forma com 
 
 a artistica paixào das aimas simples. 
 
 A Belgica é a naçào exemplar da dôr glorificada. 
 
 O imperialismo alemào nào venceu a Belgica, porque a dôr dos povos nâo 
 
 se vence ; a dôr dos povos fortalece-os. 
 
 Onde quer que esteja o valoroso Rei dos Belgas, esta a Belgica ; onde quer 
 
 que esteja essa figura de nobre Rainha que errou pelo territorio da sua 
 
 Patria sempre beni perto de cada alma dos epicos lutadores que a defendiam, 
 
 està a Belgica. 
 
 E se a Belgica existe na guerra moralmente mais querida, mais amada, mais 
 
 respeitada, mais forte com o seu territorio devastado, os seus monumentos 
 
 arrasados e o seu povo sem lar, na paz, que nào tardarà, eia ficarà moral e 
 
 materialmente o padrào das nacòes que sabem lutar por sua honra, em defeza 
 
 propria e das grandes causas da humanidade. 
 
 Cidadào de uma Patria gloriosa que ama o seu territorio comò a propria 
 
 carne ; republicano de inteligencia e de sentimento, esta homenagem que 
 
 presto comovidamentc ao bravo e alto representante do Grande Povo, ao 
 
 150 
 
rei Alberto, é aquela mesma, que, no fundo — cmbora com melhores palavras, 
 e decerto, espero bem, em breve com actos — Ihe prestarla e prestare a 
 nacionalidade portugueza. 
 
 TRANSLATION hy Florence Simmonds 
 
 And you zvilljudqe which is the better : 
 
 To be King of the world, or King of such a people. 
 
 Luiz DE Camoëns, Lusiad, Canto I, 1. lo. 
 
 " Barbarism multiplied by science," as M. Boutroux 
 has dcjined German action with scientific precision, 
 has brought the pains of death upon the great people 
 of a little nation. This " civilised barbarisjn," 
 repudiating a solemn treaty, has proceeded to kill, 
 burn, and massacre, after a vain attempt to suborn 
 an industrious people, wholly absorbed in progress, 
 cherishing no external ambitions, giving no pretext 
 for hatred, and hating no one — a people who had 
 never given the least justification for the savage 
 onslaught of deified Imperialism. 
 Nothing sufficed to avert this — neither the duties of 
 humanity, nor pure pity, nor artistic sentiment — in 
 other words : equity, liberal aspirations, the tears of 
 innocence, beauty itself ! 
 
 From the dire tragedy that has so deeply wounded all 
 souls capable of pity, we may learn the most admirable 
 lesson of untarnished honour that any people could 
 have given ; to listen to the lesson is to have one's 
 heart torn by pain, to think of it is to feel one's spirit 
 uplifted to the most intense, the most effective, and 
 the most grateful of admirations. 
 Great is Belgium, both in peace and war ! Heroic 
 nation, which has arrested the thunderbolt aimed at 
 the life of France — our common life— and foiled the 
 attempt to baffle the protecting effort of England, 
 
 worthy collaborator in the defence of that common 
 life ! Nation groaning and travailing, the shrine of 
 supreme suffering brought about by supreme injustice ! 
 Blessed be this glorious country by those who love 
 liberty, desiring it for all, by those who worship the 
 beauty of ideas and of form with the art-inspired 
 passion of simple souls / 
 
 7'/;e Belgian nation is the prototype of Pcdn glorified. 
 German Imperialism has not conquered Belgium, for 
 triumphs cannot be achieved over a people's pain ; 
 a nation grows stronger by suffering. 
 Wherever the brave King of the Belgians is, there 7> 
 Belgium ; wherever we find that noble Queen who 
 has wandered over the territory of her kingdom, 
 always close to the souls of its heroic defenders, there 
 is Belgium. 
 
 And if in war Belgium seems morally more beloved, 
 more respected, and mightier, with her devastated 
 fields, her ruined monuments, and her homeless people, 
 in the peace that will come before long, she will remain 
 the model for all nations who fight for their honour, 
 for their own defence, and that of the great causes of 
 humanity. 
 
 Citizen of a glorious land, who loves his country as 
 his own flesh and blood ! Republican in heart and 
 mind ! 'This homage I pay with deep emotion to 
 the brave representative of a brave people is one with 
 the homage which the Portuguese nation offers him 
 in lietter terms — will offer him shortly, I hope, in 
 terms of action ! 
 
 By GEORGE H. PERLEY [representing the Canadian Government in 
 London) 
 
 ALL honour to the boundless courage of the Belgians and their brave King ! 
 They have given to the world the most splendid example of a small country 
 fighting against enormous odds in defence of its soil and for the principles 
 of freedom and liberty. We can never repay them for their tremendous 
 sacrifices, but it is our duty to drive the enemy from Belgium as quickly 
 as possible and to punish him for his ruthless slaughter and wanton 
 destruction. 
 
 151 
 
By WILLIAM CANTON 
 
 IT has now been for months, it will be for centuries, one of the glorious 
 things of history, that in this world- war it was one little nation, which had 
 no ambition to serve, which had much to lose, but which was intrepid and 
 unbribablc, that flung itself across the first rush of a great empire, and held 
 it in check single-handed. It was overborne by the weight of brute millions ; 
 its storied cities, its prosperous villages, its fruitful fields were looted, 
 drenched with blood, ruined by fire ; yet it fought on alone, with unshaken 
 faith ; it was never defeated. Its very reverses were material and moral 
 triumphs ; the success of its amazing courage and tenacity is visible to-day 
 in the gigantic battle-front of the Allies from the sea to the Vosges. 
 Every drop of blood that Belgium has shed has been a testimony to the 
 heavenly Powers ; a vindication of the world's ideals of liberty, justice, 
 mercy, honour, chivalry ; an appeal to the conscience of Christendom. 
 Yes, and every outrage of the drunken and unclean hordes of Berlin has been 
 a cry to Heaven for vengeance. Our material debt to Belgium is enormous ; 
 our moral debt is beyond calculation. And these are not our debts only, 
 but the debts of the world. 
 
 The heroisms of old days rise before me — Leonidas at Thermopylae, our 
 own Byrhtnoth holding Blackwater ford below Maldon, the Swiss peasants 
 with their boulders and tree-trunks at Morgarten. They are dim shadows 
 beside this little people, whose women and children are heroic. I see their 
 King in the trenches, sharing the dangers and hardships of his comrades 
 in arms, inspiring them with the cheerfulness of an indomitable soul. And 
 I see another king, frantically fussing from front to front under the pro- 
 tection of the Red Cross, and sleeping at night, when he can sleep, in a 
 huge iron cage encircled by a swarm of Uhlans and a guard of airmen. 
 His iron cage ! The words evoke another memory. Out of the far past 
 I hear the voice of a greater Kaiser, scared by a dream of the night : 
 
 Behold, o zcatcher and an holy one came down from heaven ; he cried 
 aloud, and said thus, Hezo dozvn the tree, and cut off his branches ; shake 
 off his leaves, and scatter his fruit : let the beasts get away from under it, 
 and the fowls from his branches : 
 
 Nevertheless leave the stump of his roots in the earth, even with a band of 
 iron and brass, in the tender grass of the field ; and let it be wet with the dew 
 of Heaven, and let his portion be zvith the beasts in the grass of the earth : 
 Let his heart be changed from mans, and let a beast^s heart be given 
 unto him ; and let seven times pass over him. 
 
 The same watchers and holy ones still look out of the clouds. Surely 
 no man, whatever his love of peace and horror of war, can consent to 
 any end of this unprovoked and barbarous aggression but " a fight to the 
 finish " ; and when the tribunal of the nations sits in judgment, to any 
 plea of mistaken pity or of high policy, of diplomatic expediency, or of 
 kinship to stay the hand of justice and retribution. 
 152 
 
What shall be said of this sorrowful nation eating the bread of the exile ? 
 What need there be said ? The " tears of these things " grip the heart of 
 two hemispheres. These houseless men and women and children arc in a 
 bitterly literal sense our blood-brothers and blood-sisters and little ones. 
 They are the kinsfolk of all right-minded and true-hearted people. All the 
 material help they need will be given gladly and gratefully. But they need 
 more — the uplifting of the heart by admiration, by honour, by the cheering 
 strength of personal affection. 
 
 A new spring will come to the ravaged land ; new cities and villages will 
 replace the old. Lament not overmuch the great and beautiful art that 
 has vanished — it lives everlasting in the heavens and in the memoiy of men. 
 And the dead — weep for them, but with a proud joy that they died for all 
 that makes life worth living. 
 
 O King, O people, the sound of a great bell is ringing over your land — a 
 mightier bell even than " Roland " ; it is the bell of eternal justice and 
 right, crying that there is " Victory in the land." . . a 
 
 By MRS. W. K. CLIFFORD 
 
 To His Majesty King Albert 
 
 GREATLY daring I venture to address you, while I bow my head, as all 
 the world does. Sir, to you and to your crucified country — crucified, as 
 Christ was, to save others. You are bereft of the temporary deckings of 
 your Kingship, and your people of all they possessed ; and yet so much has 
 come to you and them, though it is obscured now by the wreckage of 
 many homes, the vanishing of many lives, by all the calamities that a cruel 
 dishonourable enemy could bring. 
 
 For a splendid immortality is yours — even here in this mortal world — and 
 none can take it from you. Your enemy came in shining armour that is 
 for ever blackened with crime and stained with blood ; but your armour 
 none can hurt nor time disfigure : it is woven of Truth and Honour, of 
 Courage and Endurance, and through the centuries it will shine to those 
 who sit in darkness, to those who doubt or hesitate. You have made the 
 whole world better because of all that you have put into it. And for thought 
 of you, and your people, many will become great, and brave deeds will be 
 done ; and thousands whose courage would fail will take heart, feeling that 
 they must be worthy of a world in which you lived, that as you kept faith so 
 in turn will they ; and whether their swords be strong or weak they will fight 
 and endure, as you have done, without flinching. Do you realise it all, Sir, 
 the divine example you have set us ; does it help you a little, does it comfort 
 you, to know that our hearts go out to you as we reverently bow our heads, 
 to you and your Queen, to your soldiers and your dead ì 
 
 «4^-^^^^^ 
 
 153 
 
By HJALMAR BARNTING 
 
 MIN personliga hyllning at Belgien betyder sa litet. Dârfôr vili jag baratta 
 om mitt folk. 
 
 Sverge var fôrutbestâmt att se med tyska ogon pa varldskrisen. Tyskarna 
 aro vara stamfrander, dit gâr vara forbindelsers tataste nât, frân Tyskland bar 
 svensk odiing starkast pavcrkats. Vara ledande klasser beundra tysk 
 ordning och plikttrohct, de underordnades disciplin och landets valdiga 
 matcriella uppsving. Ocb var arbetarrorelse vaxte som tysk planta, innan 
 den slog belt rot ocb formades om efter den svenska jorden ; nâr S verges 
 arbetare âr 1909 kâmpade sin storstrejks vâldiga forsvarskamp, gâvo oss 
 tyska broder ett mâktigt stòd. Och naturligt lystrade Sverge till den forsta 
 tyska forkunnelsen : tsardomct âr frcdstoraren, Europas tara — vi svenskar 
 ha ju sett pa nâra hall Finlands besvurna sjalvstyrelse forintas, medan de 
 ryska militârfôrlâggningarna dar ôkats och vârt eget land utsatts for nâr- 
 gânget ryskt spioneri. 
 
 Men sa kom folkrâttsbrottet mot Belgien. For oss, som sjâlva vilja till det 
 yttersta bevara vâr neiitralitet, kândes det som en stôt mot eget hjârta. Det 
 vànde bela stâmningen hos vârt folks djupa leder, och det var som om 
 t.o.m. i den mest tysksinnade delen av vâr press stâmmorna fôrlorade sin 
 sjâlvsâkra klang. Och ju bardare framfarten blev, ju mer genomtâget tog 
 karaktâr av en hârjande erôvrares invasion, desto starkare vâxte svenska 
 hjârtans sympati for det lilla tappra folk, som boll ut for râtt och frihet 
 ofôrskrâckt, utan att râkna krossande overmakts tal. 
 
 Mâbânda vann tysk strategi, trots att den missraknat sig pa motstândet, 
 nâgon fòrdel av inbrottet over folkrattsskyddat land. Men det finns makter 
 i varlden, som pa langden betyda mer an strategi. 
 
 Ma kortsynt smaklokhet râkna ut : Belgien borde ha stannat vid ett forsta 
 motstând, tillrâckligt att markera dess neutralitet. Nej, mitt i forodelse 
 och fortvivlan mâste det svaras : nu forst, nâr Belgiens unga nation visat 
 att den tagit fâdernas offermod belt i arv, nu forst âr dcss frihet, dess sâkra 
 plats bland folkens brodrakedja oryggligt tryggad for tider som komma. 
 Att Belgiens bela folk, ej minst dess socialistiska arbetarklass, satt in sa 
 oândligt mycket mer an lama ord-protester, det bar gjort dess sak helig for 
 alia man ocb kvinnor varlden runt, vilka ânnu akta râtt och frihet. 
 Dârfôr : bell Belgien ! Ocb min varmaste onskan som svensk maste bli 
 denna : skulle en dag, mot vad vi hoppas och till trots for den folkfred vi 
 sôka fòrbcreda, vârt eget neutrala land hotas av vâldet, ma vi dâ veta att 
 endrâktigt folja Belgiens lysande foredome, segerbetryggande mitt i skenbar 
 undergâng ! " Hâllre dò an bli slav," sâger ett friesiskt ord. Det âr samma 
 anda som i vâr svenska biskop Thomas' sang frân 15 : de seklet : 
 
 Frihet àr det basta ting, 
 
 som s okas kan all varlden kring, 
 
 ty frihet foljer ara. j, ^^^.^ 
 
 
 I '54 
 
TRANSLATION 
 
 My personal homage lo Beì^ium means so little. 
 Therefore I will speak about my people. 
 Sweden was predestined to look upon the world- 
 crisis with German eyes. The Germans are our 
 kinsmen. To them goes the closest network of our 
 communications, the strongest influence on Swedish 
 culture has come from Germany. Our upper classes 
 admire the German orderliness, sense of duty, the 
 discipline of the subordinate classes among the people 
 and the enormous material grotuth of the country. 
 Our labour movetnent greiu as a German plant 
 before it took root in and was reshaped for 
 the Swedish soil. And when the Swedish workers 
 fought their great defensive battle in the general 
 strike of 1909, their German brethren gave them a 
 powerful support. Naturally enough Sweden was 
 ready to listen to the first German proclamation : 
 " Tsarism is the peace disturber, the danger of 
 all Europe." We Swedes had had the opportunity 
 to see how the confirmed self-government of Fin- 
 land had been destroyed, we had seen how troop 
 concentrations in that country had been increased, 
 while our own had been subjected to a system of 
 intrusive Russian espionage. 
 
 But then came the crime against International Law, 
 the violation of Belgium's neutrality. For us, we 
 who intend to defend to the very utmost our neutrality, 
 it was like a thrust directed against our own heart. 
 It changed altogether the feelings among the broad 
 ranks of our nation. Even in the most Germanophile 
 part of the newspaper press it seemed as if the voices 
 had lost their note of self-confidence. The more ruth- 
 less the methods became, the more tlie " march 
 through " assumed the character of a ravaging con- 
 queror's invasion, the stronger grew the sympathies 
 in Swedish hearts for the little brave nation that 
 
 undaunted held on for right and liberty wtthout 
 counting the crushing superiority of numbers. 
 Perhaps German strategy, in spite of it having miscal- 
 culated the resistance, won some advantage through 
 the invasion of an internationally protected country. 
 But there are powers in the world which after all 
 count more than strategy. 
 
 Short-sighted wiseacres may calculate that Belgium 
 ought to have yielded after a first resistance sufficient 
 to mark her neutrality. No, in the midst of destruc- 
 tion and despair, it must be said : Only now, when 
 the young Belgian nation has shown how thoroughly 
 she has taken over from her ancestors the heritage 
 of courage and poiuer of sacrifice, only now is her 
 liberty, her place in the chain of brother-nations 
 irrevocably secured for all time. That the whole 
 Belgian nation, her socialistic working class not 
 least, has staked so much more than feeble protests 
 of words has made her cause sacred to all those men 
 and tuomen in the whole world, who still value justice 
 and liberty. 
 
 Therefore : Hail to Belgium ! And my sincerest 
 wish as a Sivede must be this : if in spile of the 
 hope we cherish and the peace between the nations 
 we are trying to prepare, the day should arrive, 
 when our own neutral country is threatened by viola- 
 tion, may we then unanimously follow the magnificent 
 example of Belgium, securing victory in the midst 
 of apparent ruin. " Rather die than become a 
 slave," says a Frisian proverb. It is the same 
 spirit as in the song from the fifteenth century by 
 our Swedish Bishop Thomas : 
 
 Liberty is the best of all things 
 
 that can be sought in the whole world; 
 
 Because with liberty comes honour. 
 
 By ERMETE NOVELLI 
 
 " Godi ! barbarie." Poiché se' sì grande 
 Che per Mare e per terra batti Vali 
 E per Vlnjerno il tuo nome si spande ! 
 
 UNA nube nera, densa, minacciosa, incombe sulla terra gittando sovr' essa 
 rovinosa pioggia di sangue e grandine di fuoco ! . . . Guerra ! . , . Quanti 
 morti . . . quanti lutti . . . quante lagrime d'insanabile dolore ! , , . 
 Guerra . . . Guerra ! ... In queste angosciose tenebre nelle quali 
 brancoliamo attoniti e smarriti, un punto luminoso rimane, a speranza di 
 un domani di Sole ; il sublime Martirio del Belgio, unico forse nella storia 
 dei popoli ! Martirio che insegna ora e insegnerà ne' secoli futuri come un 
 popolo conscio della forza dei proprii diritti possa cambiare uno sconfitto 
 nella più grande gloriosa Vittoria ! . . . 
 
 ^l/rrvJ^ Mo^ éJ^i- 
 
 155 
 
LAMENTATION 
 
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By VINCENTE BLASCO IBÀNEZ 
 
 El Rey Caballero 
 
 EN Espana llamamos asi a Alberto I de Bèlgica, 
 
 Nuestra època ofrece dos clases de soberanos a la atencion publica. 
 
 Los hay que estudian sus gestos y palabras corno si fuesen actores, adoptando 
 
 posturas teatrales, haciendo mil cosas a la vez, queriendo en todos los 
 
 instantes recibir el incienso de la admiración y asombrar a las gentes. 
 
 Quemarîan medio mundo si esto pudiese dar nuevo brillo a su gloria 
 
 neroniana. En fuerza de locuras pueden llegar a infundir miedo, pero 
 
 nunca amor ni verdadera admiración. 
 
 Alberto I no ha pensado jamas en deslumbrar a nadie, no conoce las actitudes 
 
 escénicas, su deseo era vivir en una paz laboriosa rodeado de su pueblo de 
 
 trabaj adores, y en todos los momentos ha seguido una vida recta, timida y 
 
 larga a la vez, comò las lineas de su cuerpo. Es un héroe sin desearlo ni 
 
 buscarlo ; el héroe mas grande y mas simpatico de todo el siglo XX. Es 
 
 " el rey caballero." 
 
 El resorte de su heroismo no fué el amor a la gloria ni tampoco las ambiciones 
 
 de conquista. Fué el deber, el cumplimiento de la palabra dada, el respeto 
 
 de los propios derechos, todas las virtudes modestas y sólidas de las 
 
 gentes de bien. 
 
 Plegândose a las exigencias del fuerte hubiese sido feliz. Es cierto que esta 
 
 felicidad la habria pagado con la deshonra ; pero hay tantos deshonrados 
 
 triunfantes ! . . . Alemania agradecida a su obediencia le habria sostenido 
 
 siempre. Tranquilidad, abundancia, protección ; la vida sumisa y bien 
 
 cebada del animal domèstico que reconoce un dueno. Pero a estas ventajas 
 
 positivas que hubiesen tentado a los mas, prefirió los viejos idealismos en 
 
 los que aun creen algunos ; el honor, la libertad, el odio al atropello, la 
 
 independencia de su patria. 
 
 •TP W TP W ^ 
 
 Este general improvisado ha sabido hacer la guerra comò no la harîan muchos 
 profesionales. Su tenacidad heroica al f rente de un pueblo pequeiìo y 
 valeroso, ha quebrantado desde el primer momento el monstruoso empuje 
 alemdn. 
 
 Gloriosa epopeya la de Bèlgica y su rey caballero 1 Muchos de sus conciuda- 
 danos murieron. El vive porque la Muerte no quiso su persona. Manejó 
 comò simple artillero los canones de Amberes bajo una lluvia de metralla. 
 Tomo el fusil de un soldado é hizo fuego en las tricheras de la infanteria. 
 Los belgas han perdido sus casas ; él casi ha perdido su reino. 
 No recordeis comò modelos inimitables de caballeri'a a aquellos reyes sin 
 corona, de la Edad Media, vagabundos y desgraciados, que la poesia y el 
 drama han hecho interesantes. Nuestra època de vulgar positivismo tiene 
 figuras mas românticas. 
 
 Alberto Sin-Tierra vale mas que todos los monarcas Sin-Tierra de la historia. 
 Estos perdieron la corona por hechos de familia y ambiciones de conquista. 
 
 159 
 
El rey caballero se ve sin reino por la libertad, por el derecho, por no haber 
 consentido los atropellos del fuerte. 
 
 Y con la noble tristeza del héroe repelido pero jamas derrotado, que sabe 
 que la razón va con él, se mantiene en un rincón de Flandres, al f rente de 
 un pufiado de bravos, para que vea el mundo comò lucha un hombre 
 pacìfico convertido en guerrero por las exigencias del honor, come perece, 
 si es preciso, el primer ciudadano de una monarquia democratica en defensa 
 de su dignidad. 
 
 * .V. «af. 4t, -y- 
 
 ■fr TP TT tF 
 
 Un periodista lo vió a la caida de la tarde, asomado a una ventana del Hotel 
 
 de Ville de Furnes, contemplando la puesta del sol, sonando tal vez. 
 
 Pareci'a triste. Contemplaba melancólicamente el astro moribundo. 
 
 Iba a llegar la noche y con ella la sombra, las horas de incertidumbre, las 
 
 horas de desesperación. 
 
 Pero la noche no es eterna y después de ella viene otra vez el dia, con un 
 
 TRANSLATION {abridged) 
 Tue Noble King 
 
 This is zcìiat zee in Spain call Albert of Belgium. 
 Our period offers to public attention two different 
 types of monarchs. 
 
 Some there are zvho rehearse their actions and words 
 as if they were actors, adopting theatrical poses, 
 trying to do a thousand different things at once, 
 seeking at every moment to receive the incense of the 
 admiration of the people and to astonish the popular 
 mind. They would burn dozen half the world if that 
 could add to their Nero-like glory and make them 
 more renowned. The force of their madness may 
 succeed in inspiring terror, but never in exciting 
 affection or genuine admiration. 
 Albert never thought of dazzling any one ; he is not 
 familiar zeith theatrical poses ; his zeish zcas to live 
 in peace and industrial prosperity, surrounded by his 
 hard-zcorking people, and at all times he has led a 
 good and upright life, gentle and liberal at the saine 
 time, like his ozcn physical traits. He has become a 
 hero leithout zeishing or seeking to become one ; the 
 greatest and most attractive hero of the entire twen- 
 tieth century. He is " the noble King." 
 
 * # * # * 
 
 This sovereign, so suddenly called to lead his army, 
 in spite of his inexperience, was able to conduct the 
 war as many old campaigners could not have done. 
 His heroic tenacity at the head of a small but brave 
 nation zcas able from the very first moment to drive 
 back the terrible German onslaught and to break its 
 might. 
 
 What a glorious epic is this episode of Belgium and 
 her noble king ! Many of his subjects perished. He 
 still lives because Death zeished to spare him. Like a 
 simple gunner, he served the guns of Antzeerp under a 
 hail of lead from the machine guns of the foe. Taking 
 
 i6o 
 
 the rifle of a soldier, he fought among the ranks of 
 his ozen infantry as their comrade. 
 The Belgian people have lost their homes, he has 
 almost lost his kingdom. 
 
 Do zee not recall those inimitable models of chivalry^ 
 the uncrozvned kings of the Middle Ages, wander- 
 ing and unfortunate, but renowned in poetry and 
 drama ? Our period of ordinary material prose 
 holds still i.iore romantic heroes in its records. 
 Albert the Landless is worth more than all the 
 Landless JNIonarchs of history. They lost their 
 cro' ms through deeds of their own or of their families, 
 desire of conquest and further power. The Noble 
 King sees his kingdom lost for liberty, for justice, for 
 brave resistance to the dictates of overbearing force. 
 And zeith the noble sadness of the hero zeho may be 
 defeated but is never conquered, zeho knozes that he 
 has right on his side, he stays in a corner of Flanders, 
 at the head of a handful of courageous souls, enabling 
 the whole world to see how a man of peace fights 
 zvhen he has been forced to become a zearrior through 
 the necessities of honour, how, if it be needful, the 
 first citizen of a democratic monarchy zeill know hozv 
 to die in defence of his ozen iiobility. 
 
 * * # * * 
 
 A journalist caught sight of him one afternoon as the 
 twilight fell, leaning from a windoze in the City Hall 
 in Furnes, watching the setting sun, dreaming per- 
 chance. 
 
 He appeared sad, and he zeatched the sinking God of 
 Day zeith an aspect of deep depression. 
 The night zeas coming, and zeith it darkness, the hours 
 of uncertainty, the hours zehcn despair is nigh. 
 But the 7iight is not eternal, atul when it is gone, 
 there comes another day, bringing with it a new 
 sun. 
 
By ANATOLE FRANCE 
 Le Roi Albert 
 
 IL est né avec l'âme d'un héros et d'un juste. Dès son avènement au trône, 
 il était estimé (j'ai pu m'en assurer) de tout son peuple, respecté de tous 
 les partis politiques et sociaux, et de ceux-là même qui, d'ordinaire, se 
 montrent le moins disposés à s'incliner devant la prérogative royale. Il 
 inspirait confiance à tous. On lui reconnaissait un esprit de droiture, de 
 sagesse, de justice, de douceur. On aimait cette simplicité qui lui était 
 naturelle et qui chez un prince révèle presque toujours un caractère supérieur 
 à la fortune. 
 
 Très jeune encore, une terrible épreuve fondit soudain sur lui et sur son 
 peuple et lui fournit l'occasion de donner sa mesure. Quand, par un attentat 
 monstrueux, les allemands violèrent la neutralité de la Belgique, le Roi 
 Albert ne s'inclina pas devant la force et ne se borna pas à protester contre 
 cette violation des traités les plus sacrés. Il tira l'épée et ne se contenta pas 
 d'un simulacre de défense ; il ne jugea pas que l'honneur belge put se 
 satisfaire par une démonstration d'un jour. Sourd aux promesses de 
 l'envahisseur comme il l'avait été à ses menaces, il vit sans pâlir les barbares 
 fondre sur lui, et mettre à feu et à sang un pays coupable seulement d'avoir 
 obéi aux lois de l'honneur. Le Roi Albert opposa aux innombrables hordes 
 du Kaiser la petite armée belge et son épée claire et pure, tirée pour une 
 juste cause. Il se montra digne de son peuple ; son peuple se montra digne 
 de lui. La Belgique tint l'Allemagne en échec et montra ce que peuvent 
 des braves gens qui combattent pour le droit. 
 
 Dans cette guerre sainte, le Roi Albert se révéla bon chef et bon soldat. 
 On le vit, dans une batterie à Anvers, pointer lui-même une pièce et atteindre 
 une position qu'on croyait hors de portée. Ailleurs, dans la tranchée, armé 
 d'un fusil, il fit le coup de feu au côté de ses fantassins. Qu'il est beau le 
 spectacle donné par ce jeune prince qui égale en sagesse les meilleurs 
 souverains, en courage les plus rudes troupiers ! 
 
 Et ces grandes actions du peuple belge et de son roi n'auront pas été ac- 
 complies en vain. Ce n'est pas en vain qu'Albert et la Belgique en armes 
 auront fait de Liège les Thermopyles de la civilisation européenne. Ils ont 
 brisé l'élan des barbares, co-opéré puissamment à la victoire des alliés, 
 assuré le triomphe du droit et de la liberté. 
 
 Mon pays a contracté envers le Roi Albert et son peuple une dette de re- 
 connaissance qu'il tiendra à jamais pour sacrée. Il y paraîtra quand, de 
 concert avec ses nobles alliés, après le triomphe, il s'efforcera de constituer 
 une Europe harmonieuse. 
 
 y^^^^i^^^iL^-^T-re.-y'i^ 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 
 King Albert atid social parties, even by those least inclined to 
 
 He was born with the soul of a hero and of a righteous reverence the royal prerogative. He inspired confi- 
 
 man. From the moment of his accession to the throne device in all, and the truth, wisdom, justice, and mildness 
 
 he was esteemed (/ say this on good authority) of his spirit were unanimously recognised. His natural 
 
 by his whole people, and respected by all political simplicity was attractive— that simplicity which in a 
 
 i6i 
 
prince nearly always indicates a character more 
 exalted than his rank. 
 
 While he was still quite young, a terrible catastrophe 
 fell suddenly upon him and his people and gave him 
 an opportunity of proving his quality. When Germany 
 violated the iieutratity of Belgium by a monstrous 
 attack. King Albert did not bcno to violence, ajid was 
 not content merely to protest against this infringement 
 of the 7nost sacred treaties. He drezv his sword, and 
 this with no idea of a simulacrum of defence. He 
 did not think that Belgian honour could be satisfied 
 by a brief demonstration. Deaf to the promises of the 
 invader as he had been to his threats, he did not blench 
 when he saw the barbarians bear down iipon him, 
 bringing fire and sword into a country guilty only of 
 having obeyed the laws of honour. King Albert 
 opposed the little Belgian army, and his pure and 
 shining sword, drawn in a just cause, to the Kaiser^s 
 innumerable hordes. He showed himself worthy of 
 his people ; his people showed themselves worthy of 
 him. . . . 
 
 In this holy war King Albert showed himself a good 
 leader and a good soldier. He was seen at Antwerp 
 in a battery, laying a gun himself, and hitting an 
 objective which tvas supposed to be out of range. 
 At another point he was found in the trenches, armed 
 with a rifle, and shooting side by side with his infantry- 
 men. How fine is the spectacle of this young Prince, 
 who rivals the best kings in wisdom and the roughest 
 troopers in courage ! 
 
 These great deeds of the Belgian King and people 
 ivi II not have been done in vain. Not in vain will 
 Albert and Belgium in arms have tnade Liege the 
 Thermopylae of European civilisation. They have 
 broken the rush of the barbarians, contributed largely 
 to the victory of the Allies, and ensured the triumph 
 of right and liberty. 
 
 ^ly country owes a debt of gratitude to King Albert 
 and his people which they will ever hold sacred. 
 This will be evident, when, in concert with our noble 
 Allies, she will work for the constitution of a har- 
 monious Europe, after our final triumph. 
 
 By WALTER SICHEL 
 To King and People 
 
 All the great things have been done by the little peoples. — Disraeli 
 
 Sire, King of men, disdainer of the mean, 
 
 Belgium's inspirer, well thou standosi for all 
 
 She bodes to generations yet unseen. 
 
 Freedom and fealty — Kingship's coronal. 
 
 Nation of miracles, how szvift you start 
 
 To super-stature of heroic deeds 
 So brave, so silent beats your bleeding heart 
 
 That ours, e'en in the flush of welcome, bleeds. 
 
 No sound of wailing. Look, above, afar, 
 
 Throbs in the darkness with triumphant ray 
 
 A little yet an all-commanding star. 
 
 The morning star that heralds forth the day. 
 
 162 
 
By ISRAEL ZANGWILL 
 
 Paradise Lost 
 
 OCCASIONALLY for me the fog in the North Sea lifts, and through the 
 letters of a young officer on a battleship I get a glimpse of how Britannia 
 is ruling the waves. The precise position of her trident remains scrupu- 
 lously shrouded — at first even the name was removed from the ship's letter- 
 paper — but the glimpse is enough to reveal the greatness and madness of 
 mankind. It is life at its acme of strain and exaltation : life joyously ready 
 to pass on the instant into death, as some unseen mine is struck, or some 
 crafty torpedo strikes. Everybody sleeps in his clothes, and half the night 
 not at all. The great ship is bared of all save necessities : my young friend's 
 spare wardrobe, with all his miscellany of superfluous possessions, the queer 
 garnered treasure of the years, comes economically home. Why, indeed, 
 sink more capital with the ship than is absolutely inevitable ? 
 Now and again the tension of this terrible vigilance is relieved, if only by 
 a change in tension. One seeks death instead of waiting for it. There is a 
 grapple with a German cruiser, and those not at the guns crowd cheerfully 
 on deck to watch the match with that wonderful British love of sport. They 
 compare the cannonading, note with lively interest the scores made by the 
 rival shells. Once the rift in the fog shows the return of a raiding flotilla, 
 scarred with glorious battle, and the other vessels of the fleet are dressed 
 to salute its triumph, the bands are playing " Rule Britannia," the crews 
 are cheering and singing. 
 
 But none of these peeps has left on me so ineffaceable an impression as the 
 picture of my young friend reading — reading at every break in his grim 
 watches — and reading not the detective stories that unbent Bismarck but — 
 " Paradise Lost ! " For the first time he has had leisure to read that 
 sonorous epic straight through and, unlike Dr. Johnson who questioned if 
 anyone ever wished it longer, he revels insatiably in the Miltonic splendours, 
 and he quotes Addison and the Spectator in endorsement of his enthusiasm. 
 Despite the Admiralty decree, you see, he has been unable to regard his 
 books as dispensable : they must sink or float with him. And so in the 
 midst of this waste of white waters and hissing shrapnel, he has found for 
 himself a quiet Paradise of beautiful words and visionary magnificence, 
 and it exists for him out of relation to the tense and tragic actual. And 
 yet what could be apter reading than this epic 
 
 Of man's first disobedience and the fruit 
 Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste 
 Brought death into the world and all our woe ? 
 
 The very first incident, indeed, recorded after Paradise was lost is a murder, 
 and this fratricidal strife of Cain and Abel has repeated itself in every 
 generation and given to the phrase " the brotherhood of man " a sinister 
 significance. But never in all the long history of blood-lust have so many 
 millions of brothers stood embattled, ready to spike one another's bowels 
 
 163 
 
with steel, or shatter their faces with devilish explosives, as in this twentieth 
 century of the Christian era. 
 
 Now, whatever be the rights or wrongs of war, one thing seems clear. The 
 weapons are wrong. My young friend, with his fine-spun brain and his 
 spiritual delight in Milton's harmonics, ought not to be annihilated by a 
 piece of raw matter. One does not fight a Sèvres vase with a stone. Bring 
 up your Chinese vase an you will, and let the battle be of beauty. There is 
 a horrible expression, " food for powder " — you will find it in all languages 
 that are really civilised. It implies that the masses are so coarse in texture, 
 are carcasses so gross and sub-human, that their best use is to be thrown to 
 the guns — a providential fire-screen for the finer classes. Democracy will 
 in due time take note of this conception. But in its rude way the phrase 
 shadows forth a truth — the truth that, for all who have passed beyond the 
 animal stage, the war of tooth and claw is antiquated. Our war, if war 
 there be, must be conducted with weapons suitable to the dignity of the 
 super-beast who has been so laboriously evolved, suitable to the spirit 
 which through innumerable aeons has been winning its way through the 
 welter of brute impulses. Not for man the slaver of the serpent, the fangs 
 of the tiger. And shelling is only the ejection of a deadlier slaver, the bayonet 
 only a fiercer fang. It seems futile to have evolved from the brute if our 
 brain-power only makes us bigger brutes. " The man behind the gun " — 
 a 15-inch gun that hurls a ton of metal for twelve miles — is a wilder and 
 more monstrous beast than ever appeared even in the antediluvian epoch, 
 and that he should not be kept safely stuffed in a museum like the ptero- 
 dactyl is an intolerable anachronism. A world in which with one movement 
 of his paw he can kill off a whole congregation of Milton-worshippers is a 
 world which should have been nipped in the nebula. No, if fighting there 
 must be, let my young friend fight against Nietzsche- worshippers — let the 
 lucid lines of the Puritan poet confound the formless squadrons of the 
 Pagan dithyrambist. Brain against brain, soul against soul, thought against 
 thought, art against art, man, in short, against man — there lies the fight of 
 the future. If my young friend were a man of science, he would be kept 
 awake not by the German torpedoes but by the German treatises : were he 
 only a tailor, he should never throw away his yard-stick for a lance but 
 with his good old scissors cut out the Teutonic tailor. 
 After such civilised fashion, indeed, the Anglo-German contest has long 
 been raging, and the German has been winning all along the line. His 
 patience, his industry, his nice study of his customers, has everywhere 
 swept the Englishman aside. Before his music the Briton fell — in worship ; 
 his drama invaded us triumphantly. Why was Germany not content with 
 this victorious campaign, with this campaign worthy of human beings ì 
 German influence, German Kultiir — it is spread by peace, not by the sword. 
 To German Universities shoals of Russian students flocked as to shrines, 
 humble feudatories of German scholarship, German thoroughness. To 
 the barbarous regions, where an Ovid might still lament his exile, they 
 164 
 
loratu 
 
 plorAviMnnocte-. et (acroma ejvi inm^j^HUi eji/s TVlânum si/âm mt'sit fvoniS 
 
 ad Ofn.n.ÌA c(esi'4er3D{(i^ ejus ." ^ICame/ititioJeremiir TrofrÀf^". 1. 3, /a. J 
 
 By Bernard Partridge 
 
 Jla'S 
 
 eLGrlQUe:19M-. 
 
carried back German methods, the cult of German science. And to me, 
 on my illiterate island, little German cities, a Munich, a Dresden, where 
 the theatre was classic and inexpensive, and the opera a form of art and not 
 a social display, loomed like models of civilisation. Why must Germany 
 challenge the world on the lower plane of brute matter ? It is only the 
 inferior peoples that need the sword. The Turks have had to rule with a 
 rod of iron — they had no right but might, no gift for the world. Such races 
 must assert themselves in fire and write their edicts in blood. But fire 
 burns down and blood dries up and fades, and the only durable influence 
 is the power of the spirit. 
 
 Fatal perversity of Germany — to have misunderstood her own greatness ! 
 Proud in her pseudo-philosophy, she has repeated "man's first disobedience" 
 — she has ignored the divine voice, she has listened to the lower promptings 
 of the serpent. There will never be a Paradise again for man till he bends 
 his ear to a truer philosopher than Treitschke to a prince of peace : 
 
 Till one greater man- 
 Restore us and regain the blissful seat. 
 
 By EDITH WHARTON 
 
 Belgium 
 
 La Belgique ne regrette rien. 
 
 Not with her ruined silver spires. 
 Not with her cities shamed and rent, 
 Perish the imperishable fires 
 That shape the homestead Jroni the tent. 
 
 Wherever men are staunch and free. 
 There shall she keep her fearless state, 
 And, homeless, to great nations be 
 The home of all that makes them s'reat. 
 
 lcti.y(4cAA^ 
 
 ct,.MiMrù.j&>...-r'i,^jz 
 
 i6s 
 
By COMMENDATORE TOMMASO SALVINI 
 Al Belgio e al suo Re 
 
 AL Re del Belgio, novello Agide Spartano, è dovuta l'ammirazione e 
 l'omaggio di tutti i popoli civili. Un vanitoso coronato invasore, distrusse 
 la tranquilla, laboriosa Nazione Belga, dedita soltanto al progresso intel- 
 lettuale e commerciale, ricca d'opere d'arte, di classici monumenti e di 
 florida invidiabile industria. 
 
 Quella Nazione fu crudelmente straziata, perdendo in una doverosa, eroica 
 difesa, gran parte dei suoi figli, massacrati dal ferro, dal fuoco e dal piombo 
 Teutonico. Oh, quanta promettente energia sacrificata ! 
 E nulla v'era da incolpare né al Sovrano, né al suo popolo ! 
 Il Belgio, essendo neutrale, non poteva permettere il passaggio nel suo 
 stato alle truppe Alemanne, con l'intento di muover guerra alla Francia. 
 Non doveva né doteva permetterlo, e questa fu la cagione dell' assassina 
 invasione della Germania contro il diritto delle genti. 
 Onta all' invasore e onore alla nazione Belga ed al suo magnanimo Re ! 
 Io sono sicuro che la parte intellettuale e umanitaria della Germania non 
 può che disapprovare il contegno e la condotta del militarismo Prussiano 
 che ruppe con la forza delle armi trattati politici stipulati con le altre Potenze, 
 mancando così a doveri garantiti sul suo onore. 
 
 Deploro che l'ItaHa, la Spagna, la Rumenia, la Grecia e la Bulgaria, non si 
 siano unite alla Russia, all' Inghilterra, alla Francia, al Portogallo, alla 
 Serbia e al Giappone per punire la superchieria e la prepotenza della 
 Germania e dell' Austria-Ungheria. 
 
 Vi è però da noi un antico proverbio che difiìcilmente fallisce e dice : " Dio 
 non paga il sabato." Attendiamo dunque la resa dei conti del buon Dio. 
 E mentre ci sanguina il cuore pensando al sacrifizio e alla sciagura di quel 
 nobile popolo, alziamo un inno di Gloria al Capo di quell' Armata, che con 
 tanto eroismo e con ammirabile abnegazione, difese i sacrosanti diritti della 
 Giustizia e dell' Umanità. 
 
 TRANSLATION {abridoed) 
 
 Ali civilised natiotis offer here their tribute of homage 
 
 and admiration to the King of the Belgians, that 
 
 modern Spartan Agis. 
 
 A vain-glorious invading monarch has destroyed the 
 
 peace of the industrious Belgian nation, a nation 
 
 devoted to intellectual and commercial progress, rich 
 
 in works of art, in classical monuments, and flourishing 
 
 by virtue of her enviable industry. 
 
 And this was in no tvise the fault of the King 
 nor of his brave people. For the Belgians, 
 persisting in their neutrality, coidd not allow the 
 German troops to march through their country to 
 the conquest of France. They could not and they 
 would not. 
 
 Whereupon Germany carried out her critninal and 
 brutal invasion, defying the rights of nations. Shame 
 
 on the invader ! All honour to the Belgian people 
 and to their noble King ! 
 
 I feel sure that even in Gcrtnany the intellectual and 
 humane minority can but disapprove in the depths of their 
 hearts that Prussian militarism, which by sheer brute 
 force has violated political treaties with other Powers, 
 and failed to keep an undertaking " rooted in honour." 
 I deplore the fact that Italy, Spain, Roumania, 
 Bulgaria, and Greece have not joined England, Russia, 
 France, Servio, Portugal, and Japan to punish the 
 insolence and treachery of Germany arui Austria- 
 Hungary. 
 
 But there is an old Italian proverb which is rarely 
 wrong : " DIO non paga il sabato " (" GOD does 
 not pay every Saturday," i.e. He punishes in His 
 own good time.) Therefore we must await the 
 judgment and sentence of our Lord. 
 
 i66 
 
SUNT LACRYM^ RERUM! 
 
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 167 
 
By CONDE DE ROMANONES 
 
 LE monde de la civilisation attend avec anxiété les résultats de ces terribles 
 événements, qui lui feront connaître le sort réservé à la Belgique, Cette 
 petite nation, petite jusqu'au jour de son malheur, et de son abattement, 
 mais aujourd'hui d'une grandeur morale qui n'a jamais été surpassée dans 
 l'histoire, ne pourra pas disparaître, ne pourra pas perdre sa souveraineté. 
 Si cela venait à arriver, il faudrait admettre que le bon droit et la justice ne 
 sont plus de nos jours les principes de l'existence des peuples civilisés ; 
 ce serait, en plus, une terrible leçon que ceux-ci ne pourraient jamais oublier. 
 Pourquoi tant de sollicitudes, tant d'énergies dépensées à accroître les forces 
 morales et matérielles d'un petit territoire, pour le transformer en une 
 nation modèle, digne de tous les respects, de toutes les considérations ! 
 Pourquoi tant d'efforts pour avancer sur la voie du progrès, de la liberté, 
 du respect aux droits d'autrui, si le droit du plus fort doit primer en dernier 
 lieu ! 
 
 Il vaudrait mieux vivre cette vie d'independence sauvage des peuples qui 
 sont encore en dehors de toute civilisation. 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 
 The world of civilisation awaits with anxiety the energy be expended in increasing the moral and mate- 
 results of the terrible events which will make known rial forces of a small territory, and transforming it into 
 the fate reserved for Belgium. This little r.ation, a model nation, worthy of all respect and considera- 
 small until the day of her disaster and overthrow, tion — ivhy should such efforts be made to further its 
 but now possessing a moral greatness unsurpassed in advance on the path of progress, liberty, respect for 
 history, cannot disappear, cannot lose her sovereignty, the rights of others, if in the last resort the right of 
 If such a thing could happen, ice should have to the strongest is to prevail? 
 
 admit that Right ami Justice are no longer the In this case it woidd be better to live the life of savage 
 
 principles of existence among civilised peoples ; it independence proper to people as yet outside the pale 
 
 would further be a terrible lesson that these could of civilisation, 
 never forget. Why should so much care, so much 
 
 By DR. LYMAN ABBOTT 
 
 WHATEVER may be our various opinions respecting the merits of this 
 terrible war in Europe there can be no question that Belgium, which so far 
 has been perhaps the chief sufferer, is absolutely innocent of any offence. 
 The war has swept over her land, cities have been destroyed, homes desolated 
 and thousands of Belgians killed, because she refused to disregard her own 
 promise but chose rather to battle bravely in a desperate endeavour to 
 maintain that neutrality to which she and the Powers of Europe were 
 pledged. The needs of the Belgians appeal to all lovers of their fellow-men 
 whatever their race, their religious creed, or their sympathies in this war. 
 
 i68 
 
^ 
 
 ^>^' 
 
 ■''Ï 
 
 K 
 
 r 
 
By LADY LUGARD 
 
 I AM honoured in being allowed to express my profound respect for a 
 nation which has lifted contemporary history in one step from the 
 commonplace to the heroic. The times have suddenly become great. It 
 is the prayer of all our hearts that we may be great with them. For Belgium 
 the prayer is already answered — she has become a great nation. In material 
 ruin she has risen to spiritual conquest so complete that the world lies at 
 her feet. No enemy can deprive her of this triumph. Her young King 
 has reason to be proud and glad. So long as history is told it will be re- 
 membered that under his leadership Belgium as an entire nation was ready 
 to face martyrdom for her faith. She has suffered a martyrdom which, 
 by its detail of horror and brutality, seems to be misplaced in the history of 
 civilisation. And the faith for which she has suffered is not her faith alone 
 — it is our faith too. It is faith in honour, faith in truth, faith in courage, 
 justice, liberty — faith in all that renders human relations sacred, tender, 
 and inspiring. For this common faith we are prepared to stand. The 
 nations feel, their Governments have said, that arms cannot be laid down 
 until this faith has been vindicated. With its vindication must come the 
 ultimate victory of Belgium and her reinstatement upon a new and higher 
 plane of nationality. 
 
 It has been happily given to England while waiting in confidence for that 
 day to take her part in offering to the stricken Belgian population such help 
 as hospitality and sympathy can give. My own humble part has been to 
 share with others in this work of consolation. It has been at once our 
 comfort and our privilege. We know, alas too well, how little it is, 
 humanly speaking, possible to assuage the unparalleled sufferings in the 
 presence of which we find ourselves. But as we have moved daily in the 
 midst of sorrows which must have touched a heart of stone, and have noted 
 with growing admiration the magnificent fortitude, the simplicity, the 
 gratitude for kindness received with which they have been borne, the hope 
 has become conviction in our hearts that the noble promise will yet again 
 be fulfilled : " They that sow in tears shall reap in joy and he that goeth on 
 his way weeping and beareth forth good seed shall doubtless come again 
 with joy and bring his sheaves with him." " Shall doubtless " — It is for 
 that " doubtless " that I believe our whole nation is prepared to maintain 
 the fight while there is a man or a woman left in the British Empire. 
 
 By ROBERTO BRACCO 
 
 IN questo momento storico, il Belgio — " la nazione agonizzante "-— è la 
 più grande nazione d'Europa. ^ 
 
 TRANSLATION '[_ ^ - - 
 
 At this historic moment, Belgium — " a naiicn in its 
 agony " — is the greatest nation of Europe. 
 
 169 
 
By MARCEL PRÉVOST 
 
 A L'INSTANT tragique où un souverain d'Europe déchaînait la barbarie, 
 un autre souverain s'est levé, qui a déchaîné l'héroïsme. Et soudain 
 l'héroïsme a gagné les peuples, de proche en proche — ces vieux peuples 
 occidentaux qu'on disait trop civilisés pour affronter la mort en souriant. 
 Gloire à Albert, Roi des Belges, qui nous a révélé la valeur de nos âmes ! 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 Ai the tragic moment when one Sovereign of Europe the nations — these old Western nations that were 
 
 was unleashing the dark powers of barbarism, another thought too civilised to smile at the menaces of Death. 
 
 Sovereign arose who freed the powers of heroism. Glory to King Albert, King of the Belgians, who has 
 
 And all at once the spirit of the hero permeated revealed to us tlie value of our souls. 
 
 By JONAS BOJER 
 
 We are at last in for an epoch of heroism, the King again taking the supreme 
 place among his nation. The storm has swept away Parliament and speakers. 
 Government and elections, parties and party programmes. Only one thing 
 remains, a monumental thing — the nation and the nation's father. 
 King Albert, rich when his country was wealthy — happy when Belgium 
 flourished— poor when his kingdom was sunk in ruins — a refugee in his 
 land when his own countrymen were driven away from hearth and home. 
 Brave among the braves, wounded among the wounded, but for ever 
 standing erect as a symbol of the vitality of his people, who had only dreamed 
 to live and work on the plains of Flanders. He was too proud to become 
 a martyr, too strong to ask for pity ; he boldly faced destruction, uncon- 
 querable because justice and the future are on his side. There where he 
 shows himself refugees find a home, the fatherless a brother, the homeless 
 a fatherland, the desperate a leader whom they can trust and who is full of 
 faith. He is the man who has given the faded glories of royal crowns a 
 new splendour ; he is the only one in this gigantic fight who bears on his 
 forehead the stamp of divine innocence. 
 
 At his side stands his wife, a woman who from being Queen over a realm 
 rises to become the Holy Mother of a nation. 
 
 ^-^7^"^^^^-^ ./j^'^ 
 
 By FREDERIK VAN EEDEN 
 
 Homage and sympathy for the Belgians and their King. 
 
 170 
 
By LUIGI CAPUANA 
 
 HITHERTO it seemed a horrible nightmare from which I could not escape. 
 
 So I turned to the vigorous novels of my friend Camille Lemonnier, to 
 
 the delicate melodies of my friend Valére Gille, to the strange but powerful 
 
 dramas of Maurice Maeterlinck, in all of which I had loved and admired 
 
 different aspects of a happy laborious Belgium, flourishing in Industry, 
 
 Commerce, Art, and Letters. 
 
 I asked myself : Is it possible ? Is it possible ? 
 
 And with feverish hands I turned over the noble pages which La Belgique 
 
 artistique et littéraire of April 1909 devoted to the relief of Messinese and 
 
 Calabrian sufferers from the earthquake, an outburst of ardent writings 
 
 and a magnificent series of drawings, beginning with an etching by Her 
 
 Royal Highness Marie, Countess of Flanders. 
 
 My Sicily still remembers this outburst of fraternal charity, and would 
 
 certainly like to repay it now in the worthiest manner. 
 
 Is it possible .'' Is it possible ? I still ask myself. In the presence of such 
 
 a treasure of vitality, love, and compassion, I felt my heart wrung when I 
 
 recognised, as alas ! I was obliged to do, that I was confronted, not with 
 
 any horrible hallucination, but with a terrible reality, transcending any 
 
 monstrous aberration of the human imagination. 
 
 Does Belgium no longer exist ? 
 
 The arbitrary madness of a Sovereign who believes himself to be in direct 
 
 communication with God has suddenly let loose a hurricane of fire and iron 
 
 on her capital, on the richest and most peaceful of her cities, on the most 
 
 fertile districts of her characteristic provinces, condemning to miserable 
 
 exile thousands of old men, women, and children, who have fled before the 
 
 barbarian violence of hordes unworthy of the name of soldiers. 
 
 Belgium no longer exist ? , 
 
 Oh ! it cannot be ! 
 
 No one could have supposed that this tranquil nation could have had the 
 
 strength and courage to contest the cowardly German invasion, step by 
 
 step, to resist continuously, in the face of overwhelming numbers and the 
 
 gradual decimation of the proud army gathered round her heroic King and 
 
 her not less heroic Queen. 
 
 And none would yet dare to believe that the hour will not soon come when 
 
 there will be a great reconquest, in which the hated invaders will be driven 
 
 from the sacred soil of Belgium and he who has not hesitated to expose his 
 
 own life as freely as the humblest of his soldiers will return to the Royal 
 
 Palace at Brussels, crowned with a halo of glory. 
 
 France, England, and Russia are and will always be proud to contribute to 
 
 this lofty work of restitution, and I hope to see in the victorious procession 
 
 with them, my Italy, who cannot and ought not to tolerate the disappearance 
 
 of Belgium from among the nations of Europe. 
 
 And now let us remember again ! 
 
 The publication of that wonderful number of La Belgique artistique et 
 
littéraire was followed by a military fête, given by the Brussels garrison in 
 aid of the victims of the earthquake ; proud young soldiers took part in 
 equestrian exercises, and in the evolutions of quick-firing batteries. ... I 
 think with horror how many of those young figures have disappeared, 
 mowed down by the treacherous war thrust on them by the Germans ; 
 and I think too how many writers like Paul André, Georges Eckland, Henry 
 Davignon ; poets like Emile Verhaeren, Georges Marlon, Auguste Vierset, 
 Théo. Hannon ; painters and sculptors like Edmond Piccard, Xavier 
 Malléry, Ferd. Georges Lemmors, Henry Wautiers ; musicians like Paul 
 Gilson, Emile Mathieu, Victor Ruffin^I take the first names that come 
 into my head — I think how many of these, suddenly transformed into 
 combatants, have paid with their lives for the patriotic ardour of their hearts. 
 Nevertheless, how marvellous is the revelation of that stricken, devastated, 
 and starving Belgium, pressing round her noble King and her gentle Queen, 
 and almost forgetting her own pains in those of the elect couple, those living 
 symbols of a land violated but not vanquished. 
 
 And how I sufl^er at the repression of the Hymn of Praise I would fain pour 
 out to them by the horrible spectacle of the barbarian invasion, which freezes 
 the words on my lips, and confounds my thoughts ! 
 
 Yet this is powerless to overcome my steadfast faith in the speedy advent 
 of a glorious and complete reconquest. 
 
 And with a heart overflowing with this hope, and a hand trembling with 
 emotion I write : 
 
 Long live King Albert ! Long live Queen Elisabeth ! Long live heroic — 
 and immortal — Belgium ! 
 
 By SIR F. CARRUTHERS GOULD 
 
 WHEN the story of the terrible European War which is now raging comes 
 to be written in the calm dispassion of impartial judgment, it will without 
 doubt be recognised that no nobler page in history can be found than that 
 which records the heroic self-sacrificing stand which martyred Belgium 
 made, not merely to protect herself against unscrupulous and brutal ag- 
 gression, but to assert her sacred right to her independence and to protest 
 against being made a passive tool for furthering the wanton and wicked 
 designs of German military dominance over Europe. 
 
 War in the twentieth century, and after nineteen hundred and fourteen 
 years of Christianity, seems a monstrous outrage on civilisation, but we in 
 this country, in spite of our hatred of war, feel that Christianity itself would 
 have been still more foully outraged if we had not resolved to draw the 
 sword, and to the best of our power to stand by Belgium and her heroic 
 monarch and his gallant people, and to assert the eternal principles of 
 Justice and Honour. -7 / >t^-y^ x 
 
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By DR. OLINDO MALAGODI {To represent'' La Tribuna;' Rome) 
 L'ONNIPOTENTE Germania, cercando di giustificare la sua violazione 
 della neutralità del Belgio, alla quale essa stessa era solennemente impegnata, 
 proclamò con le parole del suo Cancelliere : — Necessità non conosce legge. 
 — Con queste parole Germania diminuì la sua stessa potenza, sottometten- 
 dola e rendendola schiava di condizioni e circostanze, e ciò facendo umiliò 
 se stessa. 
 
 Il Belgio, piccolo e male armato, rispose con la sua eroica difesa, la quale 
 può essere tradotta nella formula opposta : — La legge non conosce necessità. 
 — Con la sua azione il Belgio, mentre veniva materialmente schiacciato, si 
 sollevava alto sul suo potente aggressore, guadagnando una vittoria morale 
 di grande valore per tutto il mondo. 
 
 Appunto in questo contrasto si esprime tutta l'epopea gloriosa della difesa 
 del Belgio, che contiene una promessa ed un augurio per l'umanità futura. 
 La Germania di oggi, che non è la Germania di Kant e di Schiller, ha 
 fondata la sua politica sull' assioma : — La forza è il diritto.— Questo assioma 
 corrisponde forse alla realtà presente ; ma appunto per ciò tanto maggior 
 valore acquista qualunque azione che contraddica questa legge di ferro, e 
 la quale, come il sacrifizio a cui il Belgio si è sottomesso eroicamente, 
 contribuisca a preparare una nuova e più umana realtà, in cui — il diritto sia 
 la forza. 
 
 (j/^Ci^ii^ûCcn V/&^^;^^?^ 
 
 TRANSLATION by Florence Simmonds 
 
 All-powerful Germany, seeking to justify her violation her a moral victory of infinite value to the world, 
 
 of Belgium's neutrality, to which she herself was In this contrast all the glorious epic of Belgium's 
 
 solemnly pledged, proclaimed by the mouth of her defence is expressed. It holds a promise and an 
 
 Chancellor that "Necessity knows no law." By augury for the future of mankind. The Germany of 
 
 these words she attenuated her own power, making to-day, which is no longer the Germany of Kant and 
 
 it the subject and slave of conditiotis and circumstances, Schiller, bases her policy on the axiom: Might is 
 
 and thus humiliating herself as a tiation. right. This axiom is perhaps in harmony with actual 
 
 Belgium, small and poorly armed, replied by her realities ; but all the more must we value any action 
 
 heroic defence, which may be translated by the anti- which contradicts this iron law, any action which, 
 
 thesis : Law knows no necessity. Though Belgium like the sacrifice so heroically submitted to by Belgium, 
 
 has been crushed materially, this deed has raised tends to prepare a nezv and more humane reality, in 
 
 her far above her powerful adversary and has given which Right will be Might. 
 
 By EARL BRASSEY 
 
 THE Belgian people may be v^^ell assured that we in England are their true 
 friends. We have felt the keenest sympathy with them in all that they have 
 suffered. We have profoundly regretted our inability to come more 
 promptly to their relief. We have appreciated their exalted patriotism 
 and the dauntless valour of their brave troops. We hope the day is not 
 distant when they will receive compensation for their heavy losses and cruel 
 sacrifices. ^ /> 
 
 175 
 
By ELLEN KEY 
 
 SOME months ago Belgium was fertile and fair beyond expression. It was 
 the land of calmly flowing rivers, grand forests, wide fields : beautiful at 
 every time and glorious when wrapped in the golden mists of summer 
 sunset. It was the land of splendid old towns, where the belfries made 
 the heart glad with music, and where great works of art — by masters old 
 and new — filled the soul with joy. 
 
 Now Belgium is full of sorrow and misery. The garden is changed into a 
 desert. A great number of the people are dead ; a still greater number are 
 wandering in exile in foreign lands. For the remainder — for King as for 
 beggar — life is a tragedy too deep for tears. This fate has overcome Bel- 
 gium because the world is still ruled by force, not by justice. 
 But the name of Belgium is now engraved in the conscience of the zvorld. 
 Humanity can have no peace in sight of the fate of this people. That fate 
 must be changed or we shall witness such a defeat for our higher ideals, such 
 a loss for the great principles which our best men and women have lived 
 or died for, that we ought to resist this defeat and be on our guard against 
 this loss with as much energy as we should use in the defence of our ov/n 
 country. 
 
 By LEONARDO BISTOLFI 
 
 THE sublime sacrifice of the Belgian people will consecrate the blood- 
 stained earth of its martyrs as an altar reared by the hands of Death to the 
 pure and inviolable beauty of Life. 
 
 By LIEUT.-GENERAL SIR ROBERT BADEN-POWELL 
 
 IT would be trite to quote David against Goliath in the case of gallant little 
 Belgium standing up to the ogre of Prussian Militarism, but that historic 
 fight had its counterpart recently where a peaceful, hard-working little 
 tailor was set upon by a big, beery loafer. The neighbours, out of pity 
 and sense of fair play, were prepared to run to the rescue, when they stood 
 back to cheer, for the little man stuck up, on his own, to the bully, and 
 punched him and tripped him and held him down till help arrived. In a 
 moment the insignificant little worker had changed into the hero of the 
 village. 
 
 There are two things above all others which Britons, down to the very 
 lowest among them, inherently appreciate, and those are Pluck and Fair Play. 
 That is why their sympathy is hot and strong for the plucky little nation 
 which stood up as a champion for liberty and fair play against the over- 
 whelming tide of brute-force. >^ ^^ 
 
 176 
 
By SIR JAMES BARR, M.D., LL.D. 
 
 Some Eugenic Ideals 
 
 AS one of those who do not look upon war as an unnnixed evil, and who 
 think that it is sometimes well for a nation to be purified as if by fire, I feel 
 confident that a fine race like the Belgians, who have shown their survival 
 value, will yet rise superior to " German Kultur," and with the aid of their 
 Allies will crush the barbarous monster who seeks to rule the world by 
 brute force. War, no doubt, has played an important part in the evolution 
 of the human race, just as a struggle for existence among lower forms of 
 life occurred long before the appearance of man on the globe. No doubt 
 this struggle in one form or another will continue for generations yet unborn. 
 The millennium, whatever that may mean, is still in the dim and shadowy 
 future. There is now a vain hope, a kind of blessed assurance, among many 
 peaceful individuals that this is the last great war, that the battle of Arma- 
 geddon is being now fought, and that men will learn the art of war no more. 
 This is a consummation devoutly to be wished, but one which will not be 
 attained as we are still on the borderland of savagery. I hope the rulers 
 of the allied nations will not be actuated by any such foolish ideas, but will 
 recognise facts and not be misled by lying proclamations of Germany's 
 peaceful intentions — proclamations which contravened facts and the falsity 
 of which should have been apparent to every intelligent being. 
 I have long recognised that a life and death struggle would be forced on 
 Britain by Germany, but I never thought that it would occur under such 
 favourable conditions for our country. Now that this struggle has occurred 
 it should be the duty of all the Allies to see that the conditions are so altered 
 that it will never recur. As a wise preventive the Hohenzollern and Haps- 
 burg families should be eliminated root and branch, and sane rulers placed 
 in their stead. It should not be left within the power of any series of 
 megalomaniacs to disturb the peace of the world. 
 
 The " German Kultur " as manifested in Louvain, and by rapine and 
 plunder throughout Belgium, must be exterminated, and this savage breed 
 as far as possible wiped out, but herein arises an insuperable difficulty. 
 Maeterlinck truly says the Germans are all guilty, any differentiation is a 
 mere matter of degree, and you cannot wipe out loo millions. Moreover, 
 any such attempt would degrade the Allies to the low base level of German 
 conduct. We must carry on an honourable warfare which will leave no blot 
 on our escutcheon. We must conquer nobly, we must make the Germans 
 pay to their last stiver for the war which they have so ruthlessly conducted. 
 We must weed out the worst of the barbarians, and utterly destroy the 
 princely looters with the rest of the Prussian military gang who have proved 
 themselves a disgrace to humanity. When the Germans discover that 
 dishonourable conduct does not pay, that it has no survival value, then we 
 may eventually get a newer and truer Germany. 
 
 Personally, I have no objection to German ascendancy if they produce a 
 finer race than ourselves, but I do object to that ascendancy being attained 
 
 177 
 
by brute force. I have never liked German methods, but I have always 
 given them full credit for their perseverance and ability. Unfortunately 
 we have all been too apt to accept the German at the face value put on by 
 himself without carefully examining his intrinsic merit or demerit as the 
 case may be. Germany has produced no genius, there is no scope for 
 individualism, her work is the collective wisdom of commonplace savants, 
 she has never produced nor is ever likely to produce a super-man, there has 
 been no evolution of the higher and nobler nature of man, the race has not 
 received that internal push, as Bergson would say, which has carried life 
 by more and more complex forms to higher and higher destinies. There 
 has been no cultivation of the spirit of altruism, that highest product of 
 human evolution which is shown by sympathy with our fellow-beings in 
 their suffering. On the contrary the worst and most brutal characteristics 
 of the Huns were evolved and developed in the Franco-Prussian War of 
 1870, and have now been perpetuated in an even more accentuated form in 
 the present war. The German Emperor emulates and out-Herods the 
 conduct of Attila, " the Scourge of God." When, O God, when can such 
 scourges be eliminated ? Surely their existence can be of no value to the 
 higher evolution of the race. The blasphemous speeches of this monarch 
 can have no divine sanction, and should not be allowed to mislead a deluded 
 nation ; the only beneficial effect which they can have may be to lead the 
 guilty to their destruction. 
 
 The Allies have shown their manhood and the capacity to rule, we must 
 not therefore rest satisfied with the conquest of Germany, the establishment 
 of peace and the rehabiliment of Belgium, but we must also raise imperial 
 races whose influences will be felt for good throughout the world. We must 
 raise healthy, vigorous manhood and womanhood, men and women who will 
 hold their own in the battle of life with any other nations — we want nations 
 of stalwarts. This can all be rapidly attained by intelligent artificial selection, 
 and the nation which produces the finest, noblest, and most intellectual race 
 will win in the long run. Bacon said : " The principal point of greatness 
 in any State is to have a race of military men." He did not then contemplate 
 the Prussian braggadocio. We are getting more peaceable since Bacon's 
 days. Some are preaching peace, eternal peace, forgetting that there has 
 been a constant and incessant struggle on the earth since the first appearance 
 of life thereon, and the surest way of any nation preserving the peace is to 
 be always ready for a fight. If the Allies had been ready Germany would 
 not have attacked them. The health of a nation is its most valuable asset, 
 and I should like to see every man between the ages of 20 and 60 able to 
 handle a rifle and a bayonet, and, if needs be, take part in the defence of 
 his country. 
 
 In King Albert we have a worthy ruler of an imperial race, and I hope he 
 may live long to rule over such a self-reliant and noble people. 
 
 178 
 
By ARMANDO PALAGIO VALDÉS 
 La Le venda del Re y Alberto 
 
 En los sighs venideros las madrés contardn a sus hijos en las largas noches 
 de inveir no " la leyenda del rey Alberto.^'' 
 
 " UNA vez era un rey, hijos mi'os, que reinaba sobre un pequeno pueblo 
 industrioso, noble y bravo. Y este rey era noble entre los mas nobles y 
 bravo entre los mas bravos. Cerca de él vivia un gigante temeroso que 
 reinaba sobre un gran pueblo de guerreros. Este gigante mantenia en 
 suspension y espanto a cuantos le rodeaban y rebosaba de poder y de orgullo. 
 Ademâs posei'a un canon maravilloso, grande comò una catedral, con el 
 cual arrasaba los campos y pulverisaba las ciudades. Vecino del pequeiïo 
 pueblo vivia otro rico y feliz que el gigante codiciaba. 
 " Déjame pasar por tus estados," le dijo un dia a nuestro rey. " Quiero 
 aplastar y reducir a la servidumbre a esa nación que cerca de ti se balla. 
 Si me dejas el paso libre tendras dinero, participarâs del botfn que recoja, 
 algunos de los estados de esa nación pasarân a tu poder. Si no me lo dejas 
 arrasaré tu pueblo y seréis todos esclavos. 
 
 " No pasarâs sino sobre nuestros cadâveres," respondió el rey valeroso. 
 " Mi pueblo, que es uno de los mas prósperos del orbe, estima mucho sus 
 fâbricas, sus riquezas, sus grandes ciudades, sus hermosos monumentos, 
 pero estima mas su honra. Las piedras pueden colocarse otra vez las unas 
 sobre las otras ; pero { quién alzarà de sus ruinas el honor derrumbado ? 
 Guarda tu dinero, toma el mio y el de mis compatriotas si te hace 
 falta, arrancanos si quieres la vida, haznos esclavos. No lograrâs hacernos 
 viles . . ." 
 
 " Entonces el gigante cruel cayó sobre aquel diminuto pueblo, destruyó sus 
 ciudades, quemó sus aldeas, degolló a muchos de sus habitantes y sembrò 
 por doquier el espanto y la desolación. 
 
 " El rey magnanimo salió de sus estados, pero i caso extrano ! los encontre 
 mucho may ores. Todos se declaraban sus vasallos. Donde quiera que 
 iba se le ac amaba comò a un emperador victorioso. Las mujeres deshoja- 
 ban flores sobre su cabeza, los hombres agitaban sus sombreros gritando : 
 i Viva el rey ! 
 
 " Al fin, rodeado de un puiiado de soldados heroicos, penetrò nuevamente 
 en sus estados y comenzò la reconquista. Muchos hombres le ayudaron, 
 los unos con su espada, los otros con su pluma, los otros con sus oraciones. 
 Los ângeles del cielo le abrian paso. Y palmo a palmo en lucha tenaz y 
 sangrienta se fué apoderando de su perdido reino. Cuando al cabo logró 
 sentarse otra vez sobre su trono, el universo entero dejò escapar un grito 
 de alegria. Porque la justicia habia quedado triunfante, la ley de Dios 
 cumplida y el poder de las tinieblas vencido. 
 " Hijos mios, este rey fué después dichoso sobre la tierra y ahora lo es en el 
 
 179 
 
ARMANDO PALAGIO VALDES 
 TRANSLATION by Prof. Fuzmaurice-Kelly 
 The Legend of King Albert 
 
 In ihe coming ages, during the long winter 
 evenings, mothers will tell their children 
 " The Legend of King Albert." 
 
 " Once upon a time, my children, there was a King 
 who reigned over a small, industrious, noble and 
 valiant race ; and this King was the noblest of the 
 noble, and the bravest of the brave. Near him there 
 lived a dreadful giani who ruled over a great race of 
 warriors. This giant kept all those about him in 
 awe and fear, and he abounded in power and pride. 
 Moreover, he had a wonderful cannon, the size of a 
 cathedral, with which he made havoc of the country- 
 side and ground cities into dust. This small nation 
 had for its neighbour another state — a rich and happy 
 state, which the giant coveted. 
 
 " ' Let me pass through your dominions,' he said one 
 day to our King. ' / want to destroy and enslave 
 that nation which dwells nigh you. If you let me 
 through, you shall have wealth ; you shall share the 
 plunder that I get ; seme of the provinces of that 
 nation shall come under your sway. Should you not 
 let me through, I will crush your people and you 
 shall all be slaves' 
 
 " ' You shall not pass — except over our dead bodies' 
 answered the valiant King. ' My people, one of the 
 most prosperous on earth, sets great store by its 
 
 manufactures, its riches, its large cities, its handsome, 
 monuments : but it loves honour more. You ca,i 
 again pile stones one upon the other ; but, if honour 
 be uprooted, who can raise it from its ruins ? Keep 
 your money ; if that is what you want, take mine 
 and my people's ! Take our lives I Enslave us ! 
 You will fail to make us base I ' 
 
 " Then the cruel giant fell on that tiny race, destroyed 
 its cities, burned its hamlets, slew many of its in- 
 habitants, and spread fear and misery everywhere. 
 " The high-minded King set forth from his dominions, 
 but — marvellous to tell ! — he found them growing 
 larger. All proclaimed themselves his vassals. 
 Wherever he went, he was hailed as though he were 
 a triumphant conqueror. Women scattered flowers 
 on his head ; men luaved their hats, and cried — 
 ' Long live the King ! ' 
 
 " At last, surrounded by a handful of heroic soldiers, 
 he made his way once more into his Kingdom, and 
 began to win it back again. Many helped him : 
 some with their swords, some with their pens, others 
 with their prayers. The angels of heaven opened up 
 a path for him. And, after a desperate and bloody 
 struggle, inch by inch, he kept on recovering his lost 
 Kingdom. When, at last, he came to his throne 
 again, the zohole world raised a shout of exultation. 
 For justice had triumphed, God's word was fulfilled, 
 and the poiocrs of darkness were vanquished. 
 " My children, this King was happy afterwards on 
 earth, and is now happy in heaven." 
 
 By PAUL BOURGET 
 Le Roi Albert 
 
 LA guerre, à travers tant d'épreuves, et de si affreuses, réserve du moins 
 ce bienfait aux peuples et aux individus qui acceptent virilement sa tragique 
 nécessité : l'éducation par la résistance, en sorte que ce formidable élément 
 de destruction peut devenir un élément fécond de reconstruction. La 
 guerre procure aux gens de cœur un autre bienfait : celui de l'exemple à 
 donner et à recevoir, en sorte encore que cette sanglante ouvrière de discorde 
 l'est aussi d'union. Elle resserre d'un lien plus étroitement noué le faisceau 
 social, à l'heure même où l'on croit qu'elle va le briser. L'exemple, quand 
 il est celui du devoir sur le champ de bataille, rallie d'un tel élan les volontés 
 autour du drapeau ! C'est le supérieur modelant sur lui l'inférieur, le courage 
 redressant la défaillance, la force servant de règle à la faiblesse, l'énergique 
 devenu une prédication vivante. Il montre en lui ce que peut l'homme 
 quand il veut, ce que vous pourrez, vous, son camarade, si vous voulez. Et 
 vous voulez. — Braver le danger, souffrir, mourir, — ces mots n'avaient 
 pour vous, héritier comblé d'une société heureuse, qu'une signification si 
 lointaine ! La guerre en a fait en quelques jours une réalité terrifiante. 
 Aurez -vous la force de l'affronter ? Vous en doutez. Et voici qu'un autre, 
 i8o 
 
Ali. / ^ } % 
 
 
 l^f 
 
 ^^■■ M -*» 
 
 -•**■ 
 
 
 \5S5Ses^ 
 
 
 fîy L. Raven-Hill 
 
 "You mark my ziord Jarge ; that there Kayser 'Il come to 
 a bad end : I've 'ad my eye on tin for many a day ! " 
 
là, devant vous, déploie cette force, froidement, tranquillement. Une 
 contagion émane de son attitude. Ce qu'il a pu faire, vous le ferez. Et 
 vous marchez au danger, vous voulez souffrir, vous savez mourir. C'est le 
 miracle du sacrifice, qu'il se multiplie dans tous ses témoins. Ce miracle, 
 nous y assistons à chaque jour, à chaque heure, depuis ces trois mois. 
 Cette propagation de la flamme sacrée, c'est vraiment la course de la torche 
 dont parle Lucrèce : 
 
 Et quasi air sor es yirtutis lampada tradiint, 
 
 dirais-je en osant substituer au vitaï du texte ce mot de virtus que les Romains, 
 ces soldats-nés, chargeaient d'un tel sens ! 
 
 Parmi ces porteurs de l'héroïque flambeau, aucune figure ne m'émeut 
 autant que celle du Prince pour qui ma patrie la France n'aura jamais 
 une reconnaissance assez frémissante. Je veux parler de ce Roi Albert dont 
 la personnalité magnifique a donné son sens le plus haut à cette dure guerre. 
 Sans lui, sans le peuple belge, elle n'eût été qu'un cataclysme mondial d'une 
 signification indécise. Je lis bien dans des articles et des discours que nous 
 assistons à une lutte entre la Démocratie et la Féodalité, que nous avons 
 repris la tradition des volontaires de 92. Cette phraséologie ne correspond 
 à rien d'exact. Ce n'est pas comme démocrates que nous nous battons. 
 Les Anglais n'ont pas cessé d'être la monarchie et l'aristocratie séculaires 
 qu'ils étaient avant le 2 août 1914, et nous autre Français nous défendons 
 notre sol, tout simplement. L'Allemagne n'est pas davantage une féodalité. 
 Ce n'est pas un groupe de hobereaux que nous avons devant nous, c'est 
 tout une nation de commerçants, d'industriels, de paysans, d'ouvriers. 
 Ne prenons pas au sérieux cette prétendue opposition de la Sozial Démo- 
 cratie qualifiée justement par un révolutionnaire plus logique de " philis- 
 tinisme petit bourgeois." Ce pays veut dominer les autres pays et d'abord 
 conquérir la France, envahir ses champs, ses mines, ses vignobles, ses 
 usines, son argent. Cette lutte brutale pour 'a vie d'un côté, pour l'hégé- 
 monie de l'autre, s'est éclairée tout à coup d'un rayon d'idée. C'est au Roi 
 Albert que nous le devons. Aucune des leçons de cette guerre n'est plus 
 éclatante. C'est l'exemple projetant sa lumière à la fois dans le monde 
 moral et dans le monde politique. Je voudrais dire pourquoi en 
 quelques mots. Je m'excuse de commenter des faits connus de tous. Ils 
 ne seront jamais assez rapportés, parce qu'ils ne seront jamais assez 
 médités. 
 
 Voulez-vous que nous reprenions le Livre blanc, cette brochure qui devrait 
 être tirée à des millions d'exemplaires et mise entre toutes les mains ? Les 
 pires utopistes y apprendraient à penser juste sur les origines de la guerre. 
 Il contient, on le sait, la correspondance du gouvernement britannique et 
 de ses agents pendant cette crise du 20 juillet au 4 août. Elle se compose 
 de cent soixante et une pièces. Rien que le numéro d'ordre sous lequel 
 s'inscrit la première dépêche relative à la Belgique a quelque chose de 
 pathétique. C'est le cent quinzième ! Les cent quatorze télégrammes 
 
 M 181 
 
précédents se sont échangés entre Londres, Pétrograd, Berlin, Paris, Rome. 
 Les grandes puissances causent entre elles avant d'engager la redoutable 
 partie. La toute petite Belgique est absente de ces conversations. Qu'a-t- 
 elle de commun avec les intérêts en jeu ? Elle entretient, dira son ministre 
 des affaires étrangères, à la date du i^'' août encore, " des rapports excellents 
 avec ses voisins et elle n'a aucune raison pour suspecter leurs intentions." 
 Au Foreign Office de Londres, on est moins rassuré. Cette dépêche numérotée 
 114 exprime l'inquiétude de Sir Edward Grey, lequel annonce au ministre 
 anglais à Bruxelles qu'il a " demandé aux gouvernements français et allemand 
 si chacun d'eux était décidé à respecter la neutralité de la Belgique." Celle- 
 ci, résolue elle-même a maintenir cette neutralité, ne s'émeut pas. Elle 
 repose sur la foi d'un traité contresigné par l'Angleterre, l'Allemagne et 
 la France. Le 3 août, le gouvernement allemand lui remet une note 
 demandant le libre passage pour ses armées sur son territoire, moyennant 
 quoi l'Allemagne s'engage à maintenir l'intégrité du royaume et de ses 
 possessions. Sinon la Belgique sera traitée en ennemie. Le Roi Albert a 
 douze heures pour répondre. Devant cet ultimatum, il n'hésite pas. Il 
 sait que l'armée allemande est une force terrible. Il connaît l'Empereur 
 Allemand. Il sait que l'orgueilleux, après une telle démarche, ne reculera 
 plus. Son trône est en jeu, plus que son trône : les sept millions d'âmes, 
 — quelle éloquence prennent les vulgaires termes de statistiques dans 
 certaines circonstances ! — qui lui sont confiées : il voit en esprit ce beau 
 pays indéfendable : ces charbonnages, ces carrières, ces usines, ces filatures, 
 ces ports, cette florissante industrie épanouie dans ces plaines ouvertes qu'il 
 ne pourra pas préserver. Mais il s'agit d'un traité où il y a sa signature. 
 Répondre oui à l'Allemagne, c'est trahir ses co-signataires, le Français et 
 l'Anglais. C'est manquer à l'engagement pris, se déshonorer, soi et son 
 peuple, et le Roi dit non. Le reste est connu. 
 
 Cet héroïsme de la probité, c'est celui du Régulus antique retournant à 
 Carthage et au supplice pour tenir la parole donnée. Mais c'est aussi celui 
 du commerçant qui ne veut pas être banqueroutier et qui vend tout, maison, 
 meubles, linge, argenterie pour faire face à ses engagements. C'est celui 
 du fils qui se ruine pour payer les dettes de son père. " A quel prix ce 
 pacte aura-t-il été tenu. Y avez- vous pensé ? " demandait M. de Bethmann- 
 Hollweg à Sir Edward Goschen. J'entends le Roi Albert répondre: "Ce 
 n'est pas mon affaire. Il y a là un chiffon de papier, comme vous dites. 
 Mon nom est dessus. Cela suffit." Turenne aussi, comme on lui reprochait 
 un jour de remplir une promesse faite à des voleurs : " Je tiens parole à 
 M. de Turenne," repliqua-t-il. Cette fidélité du roi belge et de son peuple 
 avec lui au " chiffon de papier," qu'elle est simple et qu'elle va loin ! Ce 
 sera l'honneur aussi de l'Angleterre de l'avoir comprise et partager. Il ne^ 
 s'agit plus là d'une idéologie contestable, comme de savoir si la Démocratie 
 est supérieure à la Féodalité ou le Socialisme au CapitaUsme, vaines bille- 
 vesées à piper le naïf Démos. Il s'agit d'un contrat, et à son propos, de 
 tous les contrats, d'un acte signé, donc de tous les actes signés et, comme 
 182 
 
THE BELGIAN OF TO-MORROW 
 By William Nicholson 
 
la propriété repose, par définition, sur un contrat, il s'agit de toutes les 
 propriétés, donc de tous les rapports possibles entre les hommes et du 
 fondement même de la société. Oui, c'est l'ordre social tout entier que le 
 Roi Albert a défendu quand il a prononcé son non possumus. C'est l'ordre 
 social tout entier que M. de Bethmann a renié, quand il a craché sur le 
 " chiffon de paper." C'est l'ordre social tout entier que l'Empereur alle- 
 mand a piétiné quand il a franchi la frontière belge. C'est l'ordre social 
 tout entier que la France a salué au Havre dans les personnes des ministres 
 du Roi Albert. On raconte que cet admirable Prince avait toujours sur sa 
 table, dans son cabinet de Bruxelles, un volume de notre Le Play. Combien 
 ce Maître de la Réforme qui a si fortement insisté sur le rôle essentiel des 
 autorités sociales eut été fier d'avoir un pareil disciple ! Combien ému de 
 voir ce chef entraîner son peuple, et ce peuple le suivre, avec une si généreuse 
 unanimité dans la défense du principe qui est la pierre angulaire de la 
 civilisation ! 
 
 Le roi Albert a fait plus. Le Premier Anglais l'a reconnu dans un de ces 
 discours, comme les orateurs britanniques en prononcent dès qu'ils se 
 meuvent dans la grande ligne de leur histoire. Il y eut jadis une Europe 
 de petits Etats et dont le morcellement rendait plus difficile un choc mon- 
 strueux d'énormes masses humaines, tel que celui auquel nous assistons 
 aujourd'hui. M. de Bismarck fut l'ouvrier, génial et funeste, qui acheva de 
 détruire cette Europe si prudemment aménagée. La Belgique est un des 
 rares petits Etats qui aient survécu Si nous voulons, la tempête finie, 
 établir une paix durable, c'est cette politique des petits Etats qu'il nous 
 faut reprendre. Un des monarques de la coalition le disait avec bien de la 
 sagesse à l'un de nos meilleurs ambassadeurs : " La tâche des alliés c'est de 
 ramener l'Europe à la période antébismarckienne." La besogne de guérison 
 est là, non pas dans d'inefficaces et chimériques proclamations d'un pacifisme 
 final, non pas dans le redoutable projet d'une plus grande unification alle- 
 mande sous étiquette républicaine. Il importe à l'avenir du monde civilisé 
 qu'il n'y ait plus une Allemagne, mais des Allemagnes, une mosaïque de 
 petits états et non plus le bloc amalgamé par la main puissante du chancelier 
 de fer. Mais pour qu'une pareille Europe soit viable, la condition sine quâ 
 non est que le respect de l'indépendance des petits Etats soit le premier 
 article de son code. C'est cet autre principe, fondement et garantie du 
 futur équilibre international que les Belges ont convié les Anglais et nous 
 autres Français à défendre avec eux, nous ramenant, nous aussi, dans la 
 grande ligne de notre histoire. La vieille monarchie française n'a jamais eu 
 d'autre programme et la vérité politique se trouve rencontrer la vérité 
 sociale dans le geste du roi. Il l'a fait ce geste, si simplement ! Depuis 
 ces longues et dures semaines qu'il a vu ses villes bombardées, ses banques 
 rançonnées, ses sujets massacrés, ses ministres obligés de demander un asile 
 à la France, pas une fois il n'a proféré une plainte, et, correspondance sub- 
 lime du cœur des sujets au cœur du Prince, pas une parole de regret n'a été 
 entendue qui trahisse une défaillance du peuple envahi. Une volonté 
 
 183 
 
invincible au service d'une pensée juste, connaissez- vous un spectacle qui 
 éveille dans l'âme un plus mâle sursaut de respect et, s'il est possible, 
 d'émulation ? Michelet disait de Kléber qu'il avait " une figure si militaire 
 que l'on devenait brave en le regardant." Du Roi Albert, on pourrait dire 
 que l'on devient plus honnête homme, rien qu'en pensant à lui. 
 
 n 
 
 TRANSLATION (abridged) 
 
 War, in the midst of its awful and manifold trials, 
 bestows at least one benefit on the nations and in- 
 dividuah who accept its tragic necessity in a manly 
 spirit : that of education by endurance, which may 
 make this formidable ele?nent of destruction a fertile 
 element of reconstruction. War has yet another 
 benefit to offer to " men of good mil " ; that of the 
 example to be given and received, by means of which 
 this bloody artificer of discord becomes also an agent 
 of union. It binds the social sheaf more closely 
 together, at the very moment when it seems about to 
 scatter it. Example, when it is the example of duty 
 on the battle-field, rallies all energies round the 
 standard with extraordinary vigour I The superior 
 models the inferior upon himself, courage reanimates 
 despair, strength becomes the rule for weakness, the 
 stout of heart is a living sermon. He shows what 
 man can do if he will, what you, his comrade, could 
 do if you would. And you will. — To brave danger, 
 to suffer, to die — to you, fortunate heir of a happy 
 age, these words had such a reinote significance 1 
 In a few days war made them a terrible reality. 
 Would you have strength to face it? You doubted 
 it. But another, close to you, showed this strength, 
 calmly and quietly. His altitude was contagious. 
 What lie can do, you will do. You go out to meet 
 danger, you are willing to suffer, you will be able to 
 die. It is the miracle of sacrifice that it multiplies 
 in all who witness it. We have been seeing this 
 miracle every day, every hour (or the last three months. 
 This propagation of the sacred flame is really the 
 handing on of the torch of which Lucretius speaks: 
 
 Et quasi cursores virtutis lampada tradunt, 
 
 / would venture to say, teplacing the vital of the text 
 by that word to which those born soldiers, the Romans, 
 gave such deep meaning : virtus ! 
 Among these hearers of the heroic torch, no figure is 
 to mc so touching as that of the Prince to zuhom my 
 country, France, can never be too passionately 
 grateful. I speak of that King Albert whose splendid 
 personality has given the highest meaning to this 
 stern war. Without him, and without the Belgian 
 people, it would have been but a universal cataclysm 
 of no very definite significance. 
 
 « * » * * 
 
 King Albert has done more. The First of Englishmen 
 
 *»-*«-C//ifi/i«-*«>-|0 
 
 has recognised this in one of those speeches British 
 orators make when they are moving on the great lines 
 of their history. Europe was formerly a collection 
 of small States, the fragmentary nature of which 
 made the monstrous onslaught of immense human 
 masses such as that we are witnessing to-day very 
 difficult. Prince Bismarck was the sinister genius 
 loho destroyed this prudently arranged Europe. 
 Belgium is one of the few small states that survived. 
 If when the storm is over we wish to establish a 
 lusting peace, we must return to this policy of small 
 States. Otie of the Sovereigns of the Coalition zvisely 
 said to one of our best Ambassadors : " The task of 
 the Allies is to bring Europe back to the ante-Bis- 
 marckian period." The cure lies in this direction, 
 not in ineffectual and chimerical proclamations of 
 definitive peace, nor iti the redoubtable project of a 
 greater unification of Germany under a republican 
 label. It is essential to the future of the civilised 
 world that there should be no longer a Germany, but 
 several Germanys, a mosaic of small States, instead 
 of the block amalgamated by the mighty hand of the 
 Iron Chancellor. But to ensure the existence of such 
 a Europe, it is a sine qua non that the first article 
 of its code should be the independence of small States. 
 It was this principle, the basis and the guarantee of 
 future international equilibrium, that the Belgians 
 called upon the English and the French to defend 
 7vith them, thus bringing us too back to the great 
 tradition of our history. The old French monarchy 
 was faithful to this principle, and political truth 
 recognised social truth in the King's action. This 
 action he performed with the greatest simplicity. 
 Throughout the long, hard weeks in which he has 
 seen his towns bombarded, his banks robbed, his 
 subjects massacred, his Ministers compelled to seek 
 asylum in France, he has not uttered a single com- 
 plaint, and such has been the sublime sympathy 
 between the heart of the Prince and the heart of his 
 people, that not a word of regret has been heard 
 revealing the despondency of an invaded people. An 
 invincible will, serving a true conception — could any 
 spectacle stir the soul to more virile respect and, 
 if possible, emulation ? Michelet tells us Kléber 
 had such a martial air that those who saw him 
 became brave. Of King Albert it may he said that 
 even thinking of him makes one a better man. 
 
 184 
 
By T. P. O'CONNOR 
 
 "YOU have saved Europe," were the words that came instinctively to my 
 lips when I met my friend, M. Edmond de Prelle, of the Belgian Legation, 
 for the first time after the opening of the War ; and these words still sum up 
 my feeling and the feeling of millions of the peoples of our Empire with 
 regard to the part which Belgium has played in this great tragedy of a 
 European War. Give due praise to the gallant entry of the French Army, 
 to the deathless story of French's retreat ; and still you have to come back 
 to the point that it was Belgium that met and held back the first onrush of 
 the Germans in their invasion of Western Europe. The heroic defence of 
 Liege, followed by similar heroism, obstinate bravery, tenacious defence, 
 in other parts of the Belgians' native land, had the incalculable results on 
 all the future of staying the progress of the war of the Germans ; of turning 
 topsy-turvy their ambitious and well-arranged Time-Table ; and thus of 
 giving to both France and England the full time and opportunity to be 
 ready for the invaders on their belated arrival on the soil of France. If 
 Paris be safe to-day, if the French and British troops are now steadily 
 throwing back the invader, if, in short, the whole tide of the fortunes of 
 battle have turned, it is Belgium that must always have the glory of striking 
 the first and decisive blow which led inevitably to those splendid results. 
 The heroism of this resistance is made all the greater by the gigantic in- 
 equality between the forces of Belgium and those of her powerful enemy ; 
 the greater the disproportion the greater the heroism. It is comparatively 
 easy for one brave army to face another which is about its equal in strength ; 
 but for an army infinitesimal in point of numbers to face the gigantic army 
 of Germany to go into battle was what soldiers call a forlorn hope — that is 
 to say, an enterprise for which only the bravest even among the brave 
 volunteer to undertake. And to Belgium, as to Greece in the days of her 
 ancient struggle against the hordes of Asia, civilisation will always give her 
 infinite gratitude, and Liège will take its place in the same calendar as 
 Thermopylae. 
 
 This resistance then to Germany has put Europe and civilisation under this 
 great debt to Belgium ; but I can add that future generations of Belgians 
 will bless the generation of to-day who by their heroic resistance have 
 placed the liberty and the independence of Belgium on an impregnable 
 rock. Never again will any Power, however powerful, unscrupulous, or 
 cruel, dare to violate the soil or attempt to destroy the national and in- 
 dependent existence of Belgium. The men — the women and the children 
 also — of Belgium who have died, have sealed with their blood the divine 
 right of Belgium for all time to own and rule their own country. 
 
 rrr/^. ^-^^-i^tc^ 
 
 185 
 
By M. D. MEREJKOWSKY 
 
 Translated from the Russian by C. Hagberg Wright, LL.D. 
 
 To THE Belgian People 
 
 WE do not say to you — Have courage. No courage could be greater than 
 that which you have shown. But we say to you— Have faith. Your 
 sufferings have not been in vain ; they have awakened the conscience of the 
 peoples. From henceforth your land, drenched with the blood of your 
 sons, shall be a Holy Land : from henceforth your cause shall be the cause 
 of Humanity. To wipe away the tears from your eyes, to heal your wounds, 
 to restore a hundred-fold that which has been taken from you, this the 
 peoples have solemnly sworn — to this they have pledged their honour, and 
 that oath will be kept. We desire no solace while you remain desolate, we 
 desire no liberty while you remain in bondage, we desire no victory until 
 you have conquered. In the day when the victors triumph, the first crown 
 shall be yours ; and Humanity shall bestow it upon you. All nations shall 
 make way for you, and in the forefront you shall enter the promised land. 
 
 By M. TOUGAN BARANOVSKY 
 
 Translated from the Russian by C. Hagberg Wright, LL.D. 
 
 To Belgium and Her King 
 
 IN the life of a man as in the life of a Nation, Evil is closely interwoven 
 with Good. Without Evil there would be no Good — for Good is nothing 
 more than the vanquishing of Evil. 
 
 From this point of view Evil not only serves Good but is also, as it were, 
 the invariable basis of its activity. Great historical crimes, like those of 
 which we are eye-witnesses to-day, have their place in the triumphant 
 onward march of eternal truth. The more terrible the crime, the more 
 beautiful and the more dazzling the power of that good which overcomes it. 
 Was not the Crucifixion essential to the everlasting victory of Jesus ? And 
 shall not the picture of Belgium ruined and laid waste by her foes be graven 
 for ever on the pages of human history .'' Shall not our remote descendants 
 make songs and legends about the glorious country of King Albert which 
 has given proof of supreme courage and unconquerable spirit in the awful 
 hour of barbarian invasion .'' And shall not Belgium by her example inspire 
 Humanity throughout the ages to do deeds of heroism and to battle for truth. 
 Henceforth King Albert belongs to all of us, he is our common possession, 
 like one of those spiritual heroes who raise the value of the whole of mankind. 
 And after many, many years, when every trace of the present bloody struggle 
 has vanished, when the names of the battle-fields and the great commanders 
 are forgotten, when all the horrors we are now living through seem but far- 
 off legends, when the proudest temples and palaces of our era have crumbled 
 into dust, the image of the noble King shall still continue to inspire the poet. 
 
 i86 
 
By A. KOUPRINE 
 
 Translated from the Russian by Henry Bradley, LL.D. 
 
 NOT applause, not admiration, but the deep eternal gratitude of the whole 
 civilised world is now due to the self-denying Belgian people and their 
 noble young Sovereign. They first threw themselves before the savage 
 beast, foaming with pride, maddened with blood. They thought not of 
 their own safety, nor of the prosperity of their houses, nor of the fate of 
 the high culture of their country, nor of the vast numbers and cruelty 
 of the enemy. They have saved, not only their fatherland, but all Europe, 
 the cradle of intellect, taste, science, creative art, and beauty ; they have 
 saved from the fury of the barbarians, trampling in their insolence, the best 
 roses in the holy garden of God. Compared with their modest heroism, 
 the deed of Leonidas and his Spartans who fought in the pass of Ther- 
 mopylae falls into the shade. And the hearts of all the noble and the good 
 beat in accord with their great hearts. . . . 
 
 No, never shall die or lose its power a people endowed with such a noble 
 fire of blood, with such feelings, that inspire it to confront bereavement, 
 sorrow, sickness, wounds ; to march as friends, hand in hand, adored King 
 and simple cottager, man and woman, poor and rich, weak and strong, 
 aristocrat and labourer. Salutation and humblest reverence to them ! 
 
 ^^^^. /^^:^^>-^yx/w^^ 
 
 By M. D. ANOUTCHIN 
 
 WHO now, save the Germans, would not compassionate poor Belgium, 
 small, but at the same time great, utterly devastated and depopulated for 
 this sole reason — that she has dared to remain loyal and to defend her soil 
 against the unrighteous invasion of barbarians. 
 
 One would have to be a William II, representing the worst side of Teutonic 
 militarism, to dare name the noble country a traitor. We Europeans 
 admire the heroism of the Belgians and their knightly King. 
 Let us hope that with the united forces of England, Russia, France, Belgium, 
 Serbia, and Japan, the enemy of good faith and humanity will be utterly 
 broken. In all these emergencies the device " now or never " is not to be 
 forgotten, and the sword shall not be sheathed until the Kaiser acknowledges 
 himself beaten. 
 
 By LOUIS COUPERUS 
 
 TOWARDS noble Belgium, victim of a world-tragedy, all sympathies 
 stretch out like maternal hands, eager to soothe her quivering griefs. To 
 her noble Sovereigns, King Albert and Queen Elisabeth, a chorus of con- 
 solation raises this cry : Despair not, for sooner or later the victim is always 
 avenged by Justice and Destiny. 
 
 .187 
 
By HALL CAINE 
 Great Britain * 
 
 Not that she's old and full of days, O God, 
 
 Not that she keeps the round Earth's wealth in fee, 
 
 Not that her ships are sovereign of the sea, 
 Not that her sons, forth from their native sod 
 Have borne her flag as far as man has trod, 
 
 Not that her arm isjeared, nor yet the flood 
 
 Of her avenging wrath, her ancient blood — 
 Not therefore is she mighty, O my God. 
 
 But that as Mother of Nations, strong yet meek. 
 Her strength is given her to protect the weak. 
 
 And that she cries o'er any child of Thine 
 At any wrongful blow of any State, 
 
 " Because her soul is outraged she is mine " — 
 Therefore it is that God made Britain Great. tLjpC 
 
 * Reply to Rossetti' s " Refusal of Aid Between Nations." 
 
 By MAETERLINCK 
 
 To the Editor of King Albert's Book 
 
 IL ne m'appartient pas de célébrer en ce moment la gloire de ma petite 
 patrie. Vous l'avez fait du reste de si admirable façon, avec une éloquence 
 si précise et si belle qu'il n'y a rien à ajouter à votre Introduction. Vos paroles 
 m'ont ému jusqu'aux larmes. Elles nous apportent le plus haut témoignage 
 que l'on puisse espérer dans l'histoire parcequ'elles sont prononcées au 
 nom d'un grand peuple pour qui l'honneur, la loyauté, la fidélité aux 
 engagements solennels, le courage silencieux, tenace et invincible, furent 
 toujours les lois mêmes de la vie. De tout mon cœur, merci ! 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 h is not for me to sing the glories of my little country highest testimony we can hope for in history for they 
 
 at this moment, and indeed you have done so yourself speak in the name of a great people to whom honour, 
 
 mth such a true and noble eloquence that it would be loyalty, faith to solemn covenants, and silent 
 
 difficult to add anything to your Introduction. Your tenacious, invincible courage have always been the 
 
 words brought tears to my eyes. They bear the very law of life. With all my heart, thank you ! 
 
 THE END OF KING ALBERT'S BOOK 
 
 W 93 
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