Forty seven years of virtual peace (since the Bosnian campaign occupied but a limited number of troops) are to any army a trial greater than the fiercest of wars, making less demand indeed upon physical qualities and those exceptional gifts which mark out the military commander, yet an even greater call upon such everyday, but priceless things as patience, endurance, and the rigorous fulfilment of duties, the humdrum of which has not the spice, and the necessity of which not the spur of danger.

To the honour of the Austrian army be it said that it has weathered the trial. The instrument has neither rusted, nor wounded the hand that assiduously keeps up its polish. The dangerous acid of national politics, which has corroded most other departments of the State, has not been able to insinuate itself into military regions. Ministers of War have indeed been known to speak of the “withering up” of the army, but that was only when they wanted more money for it; and old soldiers are fond of shaking their heads over the decline from the ideals of their youth; but when have old soldiers—or old experts generally—not loved to shake their heads over unavoidable developments? What they really mean, though they do not say so, is that whereas forty years ago a civilian was almost necessarily a “pig,” he is now frequently acknowledged to be quite a “possible” person.