, the obelisk, and the Arch of Triumph all in
line, and the rosy sunset beyond.

AN IMPERIAL REVIEW

The Prince and Princess of Wales came up to Paris in the beginning of
May, from Italy, Egypt, and alongshore, stayed at a hotel on the Place
Vendome, where they can get beef that is not horse, and is rare, and
beer brewed in the royal dominions, and have been entertained with
cordiality by the Emperor. Among the spectacles which he has shown them
is one calculated to give them an idea of his peaceful intentions,-a
grand review of cavalry and artillery at the Bois de Boulogne. It always
seems to me a curious comment upon the state of our modern civilization,
when one prince visits another here in Europe, the first thing that the
visited does, by way of hospitality is to get out his troops, and show
his rival how easily he could "lick" him, if it came to that.

It is a little puerile. At any rate, it is an advance upon the old
fashion of getting up a joust at arms, and inviting the guest to come
out and have his head cracked in a friendly way.

The review, which had been a good deal talked about, came off in the
afternoon; and all the world went to it. The avenues of the Bois
were crowded with carriages, and the walks with footpads. Such a
constellation of royal personages met on one field must be seen; for,
besides the imperial family and Albert Edward and his Danish beauty,
there was to be the Archduke of Austria and no end of titled personages
besides. At three o'clock the royal company, in the Emperor's carriages,
drove upon the training-ground of the Bois, where the troops awaited
them. All the party, except the Princess of Wales, then mounted horses,
and rode along the lines, and afterwards retired to a wood-covered knoll
at one end to witness the evolutions. The training-ground is a noble,
slightly undulating piece of greensward, perhaps three quarters of a
mile long and half that in breadth, hedged about with graceful trees,
and bounded on one side by the Seine. Its borders were rimmed that day
with thousands of people on foot and in carriages,--a gay sight, in
itself, of color and fashion. A more brilliant spectacle than the field
presented cannot well be imagined. Attention was divided between the
gentle eminence where the imperial party stood,--a throng of noble
persons backed by the gay and glittering Guard of the Emperor, as brave
a show as chivalry ever made,--and the field of green, with its long
l