e fourth, King Albert made
his now famous speech to the joint meeting of the Belgian Chamber and
Senate. Come what might, the Belgian people would maintain the freedom
that was their birthright.

"I have faith in our destinies," King Albert concluded. "A country
which defends itself wins respect and cannot perish."

With these simple and dignified words Belgium took up the struggle.
She was beaten before she began, and she knew it. No matter what the
ultimate out-come of the war, she must lose. The havoc would be hers.
The old battleground of Europe knew what war meant; no country in the
world knew better. And, knowing, Belgium took up the burden.

To-day, Belgium is prostrate. That she lives, that she will rise
again, no Belgian doubts. It may be after months--even after years;
but never for a moment can there be any doubt of the national
integrity. The Germans are in Belgium, but not of it. Belgium is still
Belgium--not a part of the German Empire. Until the Germans are driven
out she is waiting.

As I write this, one corner of her territory remains to her, a
wedge-shaped piece, ten miles or so in width at the coast, narrowing
to nothing at a point less than thirty miles inland. And in that
tragic fragment there remains hardly an undestroyed town. Her revenues
are gone, being collected as an indemnity, for God knows what, by the
Germans. King Albert himself has been injured. The Queen of the
Belgians has pawned her jewels. The royal children are refugees in
England. Two-thirds of the army is gone. And, of even that tiny
remaining corner, much is covered by the salt floods of the sea.

The King of the Belgians is often heard of. We hear of him at the head
of his army, consulting his staff, reviewing his weary and decimated
troops. We know his calibre now, both as man and soldier. He stands
out as one of the truly heroic figures of the war.

But what of the Bavarian-born Queen of the Belgians? What of this
royal woman who has lost the land of her nativity through the same war
that has cost her the country of her adoption; who must see her
husband go each day to the battle line; who must herself live under
the shadow of hostile aeroplanes, within earshot of the enemy's guns?
What was she thinking of during those fateful hours when, all night
long, King Albert and his Ministers debated the course of Belgium--a
shameful immunity, or a war? What does she think now, when, before the
windows of her villa at La Panne, t