The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-10-21
VICTOR HUGO'S WAR SONG.
From the N. 7. Times.

from tRe N. L. 11nleS.
1t is no pleasant thing to say or see, but
since he has ceased to be a recluse, since he
has left his island retreat and sought once
ore the splendid city Of his youth, the head
OF the author of N0tre Dame and E1'Rant
seems literally turned. NJ Victor Hugos last
flaming manifesto, Aug PariSienS, is an asto-
nlshlng mixture of gorgeous rhetoric and
grandiloquent menace. His glowing imagi-
nation has run riot in words, his eloquence
has surpassed itself, his patriotism has taken
on an antique fury that reminds us of Demos
themes, but also, alas, at times of "Major de
Boots" His sentences are absolutely over
running with terrible threats, with dazzling
metaphors, with astounding prosopopeias.
Paris, be tells us, is watching the Prussians
with the Hghtnings of Zeus in her hand.
Those mis- guided Teutons are about to meet
a great warrior whose name was Gaul
when they were Borussiaus, and who calls
himself France, now that they are Vandas.
The universe, let them remember, does not be-
long to the conquered of Napoleon the Great
or the conquerors of Napoleon the Little.
Let it not be forgotten by them that Mon
taigne, Rabelais, Pascal, Moliere, Diderot,
Rousseau, Danton, and the French Revolu-
ton are things that have existed. Paris is
not yet Sodom and Gomorrah, or the Prus-
slams the fire from heaven. The city is not
yet supertluous which for four centuries has
irradiated the world. No more are the Prus-
slams to enjoy ''easy" successes-such, we
presume, as those of Gravelotte. ''No more
forests, no more thick fogs, no more tortu-
Gus tactics, no more gliding along in the
dark. The strategy of the cat will not avail
when you meet the lion. In vain you will
step softly. The very dead will hear you"
And Paris, beautiful Paris, (which has been
accustomed to amuse mankind, will now
terrify it," and although NJ Hugo has pre-
viously and repeatedly declared the con-
tiugency TO be impossible, the symmetry of
his peroration renders it quite necessary to
add that 'the world will be amazed when it
sees how grandly Paris can die"
This is fine even to sublimity, yet as the
sapient 'Dogberry" said to his mate, ''Pala-
bras, neighber Verges." And unhappily no
such paper bullets of the brain are at all
likely to awe King William or Won Moltke
from The career of their humor. Voltaire
may indeed be preferable to Bismarck; the
Nile, the Tiber, and the Seine may mac
curately be deemed to be afluents of the
Spree the statue of Paris may truly deserve
to be crowned with stars as that of Strasburg
was with flowers. Yet it is better to
demonstrate all these things by deeds
than words. Fine words pull no trig-
gers any more than soft ones butter
parenips. The stern silence of resolution
better becomes Paris now than vaunts of any
Sort and least of all such as have the effect
| of a ludicrous, civilized paraphrase of an
Indian braves death song. We have not the
| least doubt, meanwhile, that the Parisians
will bear themselves heroically, and nj. Hugo
among them; only il is better to let us of the
outer world say these things, than to have
them struck off before the event at the Palais
Royal. The world becomes suspicious when
SO many barks come before the bite, and ii is
given to few to be at once makers of boastful