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Show " I' story ; incredible in its lofty and mellow completeness. It was a town in a maglc were chlmes its novels; unread of out rs characte were nts its inhabita from the skies. It had not a street that was not a Vlsion. Even the railwaystation 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 cafes, and above all what restaurants! The symmetry and the eleganceof the 01in o‘fganism! A con- England held nothing like it. I had imagined'nothing like it. 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. I l .. «asuuvil , 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~l saw it all, With a most ridiculous inexpensiveness, 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, impoverished 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 newproved conviction that righteousness p revails. W07 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' WM By MADELEINE LUCETTE RYLEY To THE VICTORS BELONG THE SPOILs ! The Victor true is he who conquers fear, Who knows no time save now-n0 place but here. Who counts no cost-who only plays the game, T0 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 of our World's History, I bow my head in respectful homage. |