The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1903-04-08
VICTOR HUGO
On the Immortaiisy or the seal.

On In ImusoFiality OF the Boul.
We were dining yesterday at Victor
Hugo's. Four Of US were believers and
four atheists-not speaking Of the
ladies, who were all too clever to be
infidels. Victor Hugo, Of course, was
among the believers.
ITO believe In God Ia to believe moth
ing" said one of the atheists,
ITO believe In God Is to believe every.
thing" cried Victor Hugo; at Is TO be-
lieve In the infinite, and In ones Inn.
mortal soul. / will prove 1t to you."
His face was bright with O heavenly
halo. You know he was born with
the century. His face Is crowned with
white hair, but IL Is the volcano under
the snow. His eyes shine like burning
Goals; his brow Is arched like an Olym.
plans; the nose Ia refined, with dis
tended postrils; the mouth IL eager
and smiling. still full Of valiant teeth;
the chin finishes q profile designed
after the laws OF artistic grammar. It
Ii q well-made head On o robust body.
BY robust / do not mean enormous.
He has not the stature Of q giant nor
the torso Of Hercules. But he Ii O
man OF steel, with no sign Of old age
about him. He has all the agility, the
past years He Ii now enjoying his
third or fourth youth; I no not doubt
he will see the century through.
II feel in myself" he continued,
"the future life. / am like o forest
which has been more than once cut
down. The new shoots are stronger
and livelier than ever. / am rising, I
know, to the sky. The sunshine 10 on
my head. The earth gives me its gen.
erous sap, but heaven lights me with
the reflection. Of unknown worlds.
You say the soul Is nothing but the re-
sultant OF bodily powers. Why then
Is my soul the more luminous than
my bodily powers? Winter Is on my
head and eternal spring Ii in my heart.
There | breathe ut this hour the fra
GRANGE OF the liIacs, the violets and the
roses, as at twenty years. The nearer
| approach the end, the palmer I hear
around me the immortal symphonies
of the worlds which invite me. It IL
marvellous, yet simple. 1t Is q fairy
tale and 1t Is history. For half q CEN
fury / have been writing my thoughts
in prose and verse; history, philosophy,
drama, romance, tradition, satire, ode
and song-I have tried all. But / feel
{ have not said the thousandth part
OF what Is in me. When 1 go down 10
the grave, l ri say, like 30 many
others, Il have finished my day'swork,,'
but I cannot say Il have finished nv
life.' My days work will begin again
the next morning. The tomb is not a
blind alley; 1t Is q thoroughfare. 1t
closes OH the twilight to open with the>
dawn. I improve every hour, because
I love this world as my fatherland, and
the truth compels me as 1t compelled
Voltaire, that human divinity. MY
work is only a beginning. My monu-
ment Is hardly above its foundations.
[ would be glad to see it mounting and
mounting forever. The thirst for the
infinite proves infinity. What do you
say Of that, Messieurs Atheists"
II say you are a wonderful man."
IL am not q wonderful man. I obey
my soul. My soul has its destiny, and
obeys unknown laws"
ut obeys the laws Of creation, " said
the atheist. ''If you should suddenly
have a headache, night would come
over your soul, and you would feel that
1t Wa the creature of your brain. Here,
for instance, is the coffee. Take some
as l do, in this pretty japanese cup,
and your blood will be quickened. and
your wit l!vilier, and for an hour you
will be a greater poet than ever"
Don't talk such nonsense, my wit
~ friend. | never drink coffee nor
champagne. Why do not those who
take these stimulants write either my
verse or my prose-"
at is because nature has not 30 well
fashioned their brains"
There | have you" said Victor
Hugo. "What Is nature?"
1T is al occult force" said the
atheist.
There are no occult forces; there are
only luminous forces. Occult force il
chaos, the luminous force Is God. Man
is al infinitely little copy Of God: this
is glory enough for man. am a man,
an invisible atom, a drop In the ocean,
a grain Of sand OIL the shore. Little az
! am. | feel the God in me, because I
can also bring form out OF my chaos.
! make books which are creations. /
can say this without Boosting. for /
have no pride than u coral insect
in its reef; nO more than the smallest
bird which joins ia the universal
hymn. | am nothing. Here lies Vic
tor Hugo-an atom, a passing echo, q
flying cloud, II wave which laps the
shore. ! am nothing, but let me live
all my future lives: let ME continue
my work begun; let me scale in coming
ages all the heights, all the perils, all
the loves, all the agonies. Who will
say that II day, after thousands OF as
cents, | shall not, like all men of good
will, have conquered q place in the
supreme council Ofthat adorable tyrant
| whose name is God?"
You can alVays get fresh candy from T.. u
Speed.