The torrential rains of the last three days have given the Russians their first warning of what is to be expected should they make their Winter campaign in Bulgaria. The so-called streets of Sistova and Nikopolis have become water-courses, the roads are quagmires, in some places absolutely impassible for vehicles, and even the low sandy soil along the Wallachian bank is fast assuming the condition of a sponge. We shall have a freshet before long, and then how the communications are to be kept up with the corps in the field will become a mystery, for, strange to say, nothing in the war of road-making has been attempted, and things have been allowed to go on as they were originally found to exist in the happy-go-lucky way peculiar to the aborigines, who, if their path be obstructed by a mud-pit or a fallen tree, never think of filling up the hole or removing the obstacle, but simply turn aside and take another line, to be in its turn abandoned under similar circumstances. All of this is very convenient, and facilitates the march of an army in fine weather, as the fronts can be extended and the depth of the columns decreased. But when the rain pours down, as it only does in Bulgaria, and the light soil on the surface is soaked through and then trampled into the sticky clay beneath, men and animals toil along with difficulty, and are brought to a halt every hundred yards by a series of obstructions which often take hours of labor to surmount. The probable change of temperature, to be expected when the sun comes out again, will be most welcome to the army, but just now its sufferings are very great; the tents are old and ragged, better calculated to serve as sieves than shelters; firewood is not to be obtained at any price in the vicinity of any camp and the condition of the roads delays the arrival of the convoys with provisions and water. Naturally, the general health has not improved, and although there is a decrease in the number of fever patients, cases of dysentery are becoming more frequent every day, until, in some localities, the disease has assumed the form of an epidemic.

The decisive moment has not yet arrived at the extreme front, where, however, the engagement is pretty general along the whole line. The Turks wish to force the fighting before the arrival of the enemy's reinforcements, which are coming up at the rate of 8,000 to 10,000 a day. The Russians count greatly upon the Imperial Guard, whose exploits in the future they already begin to celebrate with a mighty flourish of trumpets. But as this really splendid corps has never been in the field as an organization since the siege of Sebastopol, of whose veterans none remain in service, it may be doubted whether it will accomplish much more than would any other body of troops exposed for the first time to fire. Still, their arrival will greatly improve the morale of the army, and as they are all picked men, admirably drilled and equipped, and officered exclusively by gentlemen, who always fight better than "cads," say what will to the contrary modern levelers, the chances of a Russian victory at some point are considerably enhanced. The foot guard regiments are each 4,100 strong, inclusive of non-combatants, and the three divisions with the Brigade of Chasseurs, number in all 35,000 infantry, 4,000 foot artillery, 5,000 cavalry and horse artillery, and 1,000 engineers. Still, I cannot see how even these supposed-to-be invincibles can entirely turn the tide of war, although the Russians do again begin to speak with confidence of its termination this Autumn. Their line, in the shape of a very acute triangle, is 180 miles in extent and is held by certainly not over 200,000 effective troops, of whom they cannot within less than 48 hours time concentrate more than 40,000 to 50,000 on any one position, or, if distance and the state of the communications admitted of the concentration, without materially weakening themselves at other points. Just now they are principally working against the Turkish left wing, but as Suleiman Pasha is threatening his enemy's advanced centre, and Mehemet Ali and Achmet Eyoub are continually hammering at the left, it is difficult to see how any one victory could be termed decisive. The imperial telegraph at Gorny-Studen announces the capture of Lovdscha by assault on the 5th of September, an occurrence which, as I anticipated in my letter of the 2d inst., was to be looked for; but there are good reasons for doubting the truth of the dispatch, notwithstanding its official character, and I have been assured by several of the better class of Israelites who were at head-quarters when Prince Smezetinsky's report arrived, that the 11 hours' desperate fighting in which Rozgildieff was wounded were for the possession of an advanced post in the plain of Lovdscha named Senocan, a little over eight miles from the town. This last version is as worthy of credence as the other, but not more so, for in this part of the world one should never believe anything that he hears, and only half of what he sees. Still their friends are far more sanguine of Russian success than they were 10 days ago. Gen. Nepöikitschisky and the Czar and the Grand Duke have made out a new plan, and the elucubrations of these great intelligences cannot fail to be crowned with victory, for they have decided to beat the Turks in detail, commencing with the Serdar Ekrem-this out of respect for his exalted rank-after which 100,000 men are to be poured into Roumelia, whence they will sweep, like a torrent, to Constantinople, where peace will be signed before Michaelmas. We are all waiting with anxiety for the realization of this mighty conception, slightly thwarted up to date by the drubbing received by Grand Duke Vladimir at and near Kadiköi, which, if followed up, will drive that young gentleman into Biela and put the bridge of Prygos at the mercy of the enemy. Meanwhile, complaints increase in bitterness against the supply department of the Army. The regiments are not provided with respectable sutlers, and are given over to the rapacity of swarms of Polish Jews, who rob men and officers in the most disgraceful manner. A bottle of bad beer costs 6 francs, one of common sour wine 12 francs, for half a pound of inferior tea the price is 12 francs, and you must pay 2 francs for a pound loaf of white bread. Unfortunately, these harpies are protected in high places, and the Intendance is powerless to suppress or punish their extortions.

There was very heavy, though distant, firing to be heard as I passed through Fratisti on my way back here last evening. The trains to Giurgevo were stopped, and no one allowed to go into the town, whence the inhabitants were making their hebdominal exodus, a most disagreeable necessity on this occasion, as the thermometer has fallen 20 centigrade within the last 24 hours, and the rain was pouring down in torrents. The poor wretches looked like drowned rats, and sat by the wayside, very pictures of misery, huddled together in groups, with not even an umbrella to shelter them from the pitiless storm. There were men and women and children up to their ankles in the mud which was to be their couch for the night; no food, no fire; nothing, indeed, before them, except the certainty of illness and suffering. The soldiers did what they could for their relief, but the poor fellows' charity was necessarily limited, and although the Russian officers ordered a general distribution of bread among the refugees, this moldy pulp was a very insufficient comforter for people who, after a toilsome journey of half a dozen miles through wind and wet, were condemned to wallow in the mire for the next 24 hours. It would not have been so bad if the fugitives had been Bulgarians, but these poor Roumains have been used to better things, and it seems hard that they-the innocent ones-should suffer for the ambition of a few interested politicians who, on the pretext of patriotism, have plunged their country into a war in which she has no direct or indirect interest, and whose results, in whatever sense they be, cannot be other than disadvantageous to her people.

From the Russian officers at the railway station I learned that the bombardment from Rustchuk was not confined to its action against Giurgevo and the Slobodja batteries, but that the extreme violence of the discharges on the eastern front indicated either an assault upon or a sortie from the fortress, in which the corps at Pyrgos and Achmet Eyoub's forces, as well as the garrison, were engaged. Up here at Bucharest great fears are entertained for the safety of the Roumanian Army, whose directing genius, the par-interim-acting Minister of War, Mr. Bratiano, now away from his bureau and at Coratia, has telegraphed to send down without delay all the medical men to be found in the capital and its environs. As the troops of Modom Dacia have already an enormous proportion of general practitioners in attendance at the front, this dispatch has caused much anxiety and produced the conviction of a general slaughter of the heroes in honor of whose anticipated martyrdom commemorative medals are actually on sale in some of the shop windows. The satisfaction expressed by the upper classes of the population whenever the news arrives of a Russian disaster merits particular attention. The newspapers and public documents are not openly or demonstratively joyous, either because of a certain sentiment of courtesy toward their ally, or because of the proximity and possible ulterior triumph of the Russian Army. They even affect, in some instances, an enthusiasm for this pretended war of deliverance and an exaggerated Turkophobia. But you can easily pierce through the thin veil of conventionality, and, after a very little while, perceive that it is not heartfelt. In private circles, on the contrary, no attempt is made at the concealment of their real sentiments, and the contentment experienced at every successive defeat is a sauce as appetizing at the table of the sovereign as it is to the mamalika filled trenches of the peasant. The French use the word veste as a slang name for a beating, and this cant expression is now being generalized throughout Roumania as a synonym for the battle of Plevna. The stupid soldier has it at his tongue's end, without, perhaps, appreciating its signification, the more intelligent staff officer discusses its advantages in the public cafés and at the mess tables. This change of sentiment for their quondam friends is scarcely to be wondered at. Russian arrogance sought to discover instead of seeking to avoid occasions for wounding Roumanian national pride, while the conduct of the Russian officers was naught but a succession of violations of common decency. The café concerts were thronged with inebriated heroes, whose voices drowned the noise of the instruments in their frantic howls for obscene songs, or, as one evening at the Jardin Rosca, for some air which, like the "Marseillaise," is forbidden by the authorities. Their spurs and sabres clank through the streets or impede the entrance to the cafés as they swagger insolently along the Podu Mogoshöi, or take their ices at the doors staring impertinently under the bonnets of the ladies and elbowing their escorts from the sidewalk until no respectable woman will venture, even in broad daylight, where she is likely to encounter one of these defenders of the faith.