To sum up, one may say that what is going on at our gates is not the only thing to be thought of. A strategic movement conceived with a well-defined object is not necessarily a retreat. The fighting which has taken place at the front during the last few days has resulted in making the enemy more circumspect and in delaying his forward march to the great advantage of the whole scheme of operations. There is no reason at the present time for letting oneself be hung up, thus playing into the hands of the Germans. That is the motive of the movements now being carried out. We are not beaten, far from it, but are making arrangements for beating the enemy in the best possible conditions. The public should, in this matter, place all trust in the commander of the army, and should remain calm and confident. The outcome of the struggle does not appear doubtful. Meanwhile the newspapers should abstain from mentioning movements of troops, as secrecy is essential for the success of the operations. The exodus from Brussels was vividly described in a telegram from Mr. A.J. Rorke, the correspondent of the Central News Agency. He wired, under date of August 20th: I left Brussels at three o'clock this morning, with the Germans at its very gates. All through the evening, following the evacuation of Tirlemont, Louvain, and neighbouring villages, there had been coming into the city from all the roads leading into it one unending procession of old men, women, children, and wounded soldiers retreating before the advance of the Uhlan vanguard. They came into the centre of the city, clamouring at the Gare du Nord for tickets to the coast, but the trains were all reserved for the hosts of wounded brought in by motor-ambulances and carts from the firing-line. Most of the men had been wounded in the head and face, disproving the repeated stories that the Germans were bad marksmen and aimed low. As a matter of fact, practically all the men wounded in yesterday's battle were hit high, proving that the Germans, infantrymen and cavalrymen, are firing from the hip. Later came the news that there would probably be no more trains out of Brussels, so the more timid of the population began to prepare hurriedly for departure. A dramatic moment in the history of Europe occurred when the Civic Guard, unwillingly, and only on instructions from the Executive Government at Antwerp, abandoned their defensive on the outskirts of the city, and in the forest around the town, and marched into Brussels. They were ordered to Ghent, and singing, with unbroken spirit, the "Marseillaise," the strains of which rose over the murmurs of a panic-stricken population, they entered the railroad station. And so Brussels, undefended, evacuated by its troops unwillingly, though their going really showed a finer spirit of patriotism than death on a battlefield, awaited the arrival of the "modern Huns."