Thousands of foreign volunteers assembled on the Esplanade des Invalides this morning to offer their services for the war. These young foreigners are mostly strong, active youths and have all received more or less military training. They marched through the streets in detachments of from two to six hundred, grouped together according to nationalities, bearing French flags alongside flags of their own countries. There were about five thousand Russians, five thousand Italians, two thousand Belgians, numerous Czecs, Slavs, Roumanians, and Armenians, together with smaller contingents of Americans, British, and Greeks. Mr. Arthur Bles and his second in command, Mr. Victor Little, are busy organizing the "Rough Riders" in a riding-school in Rue Avenue des Chasseurs. M. Geissler, manager of the Hotel Astoria, who was recently reported as having been shot as a spy for arranging disks on the roof of his hotel to interfere with the French wireless telegraphy, was tried today, not by court martial, but by a civil judge, M. Tortat, to whom the court martial had referred the matter for further evidence. It appears that M. Geissler had been denounced on insufficient grounds by a clerk in his employment. His innocence was established, this morning, and he was released from the Sante prison and handed over to the military authorities, who will probably let the matter drop. _Saturday, August 22._ Mobilization is now completed. This is the nineteenth day since the declaration of war (August 3). A sultry day with light northwesterly breezes. Thermometer at five P.M. 22 degrees centigrade. "All that I can say to you is that the battle has begun. That is all I know," is the statement made by M. Malvy, Minister of the Interior, as he stepped into his motor-car at the Elysee Palace on his way home this evening after the meeting of the Council of National Defence. Remarkable, impressive silence prevails everywhere. If people speak, it seems to be in a whisper. Never before was Paris so full of motor-ambulances, all driving hurriedly hither and thither, bearing nurses or Red Cross attendants, but never a wounded. The whole of the Rue Francois-Premier is lined on both sides with Red Cross motor-cars. The railway stations have an unusual appearance, with hundreds of wooden booths forming a sort of barrier to approaches. The calm, confident, silent, patriotic expectation augurs well for the future and vividly contrasts with the noisy, braggadocio spirit of 1870. Paris at the present moment is the most orderly, well-behaved city in the world.