Czar Alexander and Kaiser William are still, as it were,
locked in a prolonged embrace. Day after day we hear of their solemn and tender proceedings at the centre of a world which appears to be mainly composed of Princes, Ambassadors, Field-Marshals, Cossacks, and Special Correspondents,—the latter of whom now and then allude to a host of individuals clad in sheepskin, sur- rounding in multitudinous masses spectacles of much barbaric military pomp, and who are known as the Russian people. One of the events of the week is that Count Von Moltke has been made a Russian Colonel, —an act of grace not without an air of policy. The names of Sadowa and Sedan have already penetrated far into Asia, where fifty years ago Russia made great capital out of the fact that the Duke of Wellington had accepted a Marshal's baton from the first Czar Alexander. The detailed accounts of the military reviews do not seem to show that the Russian Army is, in regard to either infantry or artillery, equal to the German, or even the French. The drill of the in- fantry is generally reported as wanting in character and ease, and the armament of the artillery as quite second-rate. But there is no power in Europe, perhaps, which could make such a magni- ficent show of cavalry as the Grand Duke Nicholas trotted out before Emperor William in the Idarsfeld. Happily Europe has got the breech-loader to check the Cossack.
