int in view."

Thus the shrewd Russian has gained point after point from his Oriental
neighbors, and has succeeded in annexing a vast territory while keeping
on the friendliest of terms with his new subjects. He has respected
their prejudices, left their religions untouched, dealt with them in
their own ways, and is rapidly planting the Muscovite type of
civilization where Asiatic barbarism had for untold ages prevailed.

No man can predict the final result of these movements. Asia has been in
all ages the field of great invasions and of the sudden building up of
immense empires. But the movements of the Muscovite conquerors have none
of the torrent rush of those great invasions of the past. The Russian
advances with extreme caution, takes no risks, and makes sure of his
game before he shows his hand. He prepares the ground in front before
taking a step forward, and all that he leaves in his rear falls into the
strong folds of the imperial net. Gold and diplomacy are his weapons
equally with the sword, and in the progress of his arms we seem to see
Europe marching into Asia with a solid and unyielding front.

_THE RAILROAD IN TURKESTAN._

On the 24th of January, 1881, Edward O'Donovan, a daring traveller who
had journeyed far through the wastes and wilds of Turkestan, found
himself on a mountain summit not far removed from the northern boundary
of Persia, from which his startled eyes beheld a spectacle of fearful
import. Below him the desert stretched in a broad level far away to the
distant horizon. Near the foot of the range rose a great fortress,
within which at that moment a frightful struggle was taking place.
Bringing his field-glass to bear upon the scene, the traveller saw a
host of terror-stricken fugitives streaming across the plain, and hot
upon their steps a throng of merciless pursuers, who slaughtered them in
multitudes as they fled. Even from where he stood the white face of the
desert seemed changing to a crimson hue.

What the astounded traveller beheld was the death-struggle of the desert
Turkomans, the hand of retribution smiting those savage brigands who for
centuries had carried death and misery wherever they rode. These were
the Tekke Turkomans, the tribes who haunted the Persian frontier, and
whose annual raids swept hundreds of captives from that peaceful land to
spend the remainder of their days in the most woful form of slavery. For
a month previous General Skobeleff, the most darin