He rose，walked slowly to the map of France spread out on the wall，and at whose base an island was visible in a separate compartment，laid his finger on this compartment and said：——
'Corsica，a little island which has rendered France very great.'
This was like a breath of icy air.
All ceased talking.
They felt that something was on the point of occurring.
Bahorel，replying to Bossuet，was just assuming an attitude of the torso to which he was addicted.
He gave it up to listen.
Enjolras，whose blue eye was not fixed on any one，and who seemed to be gazing at space，replied，without glancing at Marius：——
'France needs no Corsica to be great.
France is great because she is France.
Quia nomina leo.'
Marius felt no desire to retreat；he turned towards Enjolras，and his voice burst forth with a vibration which came from a quiver of his very being：——
'God forbid that I should diminish France！
But amalgamating Napoleon with her is not diminishing her.
Come！let us argue the question.I am a new comer among you，but I will confess that you amaze me.Where do we stand？
Who are we？
Who are you？
Who am I？
Let us come to an explanation about the Emperor.
I hear you say Buonaparte，accenting the u like the Royalists.
I warn you that my grandfather does better still；he says Buonaparte'.I thought you were young men.
Where，then，is your enthusiasm？
And what are you doing with it？
Whom do you admire，if you do not admire the Emperor？And what more do you want？
If you will have none of that great man，what great men would you like？
He had everything.
He was complete.He had in his brain the sum of human faculties.
He made codes like Justinian，he dictated like Caesar，his conversation was mingled with the lightning-flash of Pascal，with the thunderclap of Tacitus，he made history and he wrote it，his bulletins are Iliads，he combined the cipher of Newton with the metaphor of Mahomet，he left behind him in the East words as great as the pyramids，at Tilsit he taught Emperors majesty，at the Academy of Sciences he replied to Laplace，in the Council of State be held his own against Merlin，he gave a soul to the geometry of the first，and to the chicanery of the last，he was a legist with the attorneys and sidereal with the astronomers；like Cromwell blowing out one of two candles，he went to the Temple to bargain for a curtain tassel；he saw everything；he knew everything；which did not prevent him from laughing good-naturedly beside the cradle of his little child；and all at once，frightened Europe lent an ear，armies put themselves in motion，parks of artillery rumbled，pontoons stretched over the rivers，clouds of cavalry galloped in the storm，cries，trumpets，a trembling of thrones in every direction，the frontiers of kingdoms oscillated on the map，the sound of a superhuman sword was heard，as it was drawn from its sheath；they beheld him，him，rise erect on the horizon with a blazing brand in his hand，and a glow in his eyes，unfolding amid the thunder，his two wings，the grand army and the old guard，and he was the archangel of war！'