On the Russian side the preparations for war had been carried on with much secrecy, headquarters being at Kischeneff in Bessarabia. The greater part of the army had been distributed throughout the provinces in comfortable winter quarters, and were in excellent health and spirits. Early in April the soldiers began swarming towards Kischeneff for the Grand Review and the expected declaration of war. The city had put on its holiday attire, flags and streamers were flying from the houses, and there was the greatest excitement among the people and the soldiers as they waited the arrival of the Emperor. The Review was to be no dress parade, but the serious prelude to war. It was all the more impressive therefore, as early on the morning of April 24th, 1877, the army corps began to gather on the broad plains and sloping hillsides above the town. The troops were already under arms by nine o'clock, standing in lone lines and solid masses, silent and almost motionless as for an hour and a half, they waited the arrival of the Emperor. The crowd, too, of onlookers were serious, and spoke in hushed voices, for these splendid troops were soon to be hurled against the fortification of Plevna only to be shattered, broken, decimated. Only when the Emperor appeared mounted, accompanied by his brother the Grand Duke Nicholas and an immense staff of a hundred officers and rode slowly along the lines, was the silence broken by the sound of music and the cheering of the soldiers. The review was over in an hour. The music ceased, silence reigned, the soldiers stood uncovered and the crowd also removed their caps. The voice of only one man was heard, that of the Bishop of Kischeneff saying a grand military Mass. For more than half an hour the soldiers, composed, expectant, reverently stood and listened. When the Mass was finished a low murmur ran through the crowd. Then a dead silence, and again the strong voice of the Bishop was heard not now engaged in prayer but in reading the Manifesto. In the midst of it sobs were heard and as men looked they saw the Emperor weeping like a child. It had been the pride and glory of the reign of Alexander that his reign had been of peace. He hoped to finish it without war, and now the fatal step had been taken, and who could tell its issue. This was not the spirit of a man eager, determined on conquest, lusting for martial fame and glory. There was not a dry eye within sound of the Bishop's voice, but when he closed with the impressive words, "And now, invoking the blessing of God upon our valiant armies we give them the order to cross the Turkish frontier," a wild and universal shout went up--a shout of exultation, triumph, relief, which ran through all the army over hill and plain till the whole air resounded with the glad acclaim. Some corps started at once for the frontier and the rest began rapidly preparing for the march--and by the 10th of May the Russian army, over two hundred thousand men, was posted along the