pure and simple, of a barbarism which had always existed, but hidden
from sight. Clerambault inclined to the latter explanation, and full
of his recent information he held Luther, Kant and Wagner responsible
for the violation of Belgian neutrality, and the crimes of the German
army. He, however, to use a colloquial expression, had never been to
see for himself, being neither musician, theologian, or metaphysician.
He trusted to the word of Academicians, and only made exceptions in
favour of Beethoven, who was Flemish, and Goethe, citizen of a free
city and almost a Strassburger, which is half French,--or French and a
half. He paused for approbation.

He was surprised not to find in Perrotin an ardour corresponding to
his own. His friend smiled, listened, contemplated Clerambault with an
attentive and benevolent curiosity. He did not say no, but he did not
say yes, either, and to some assertions he made prudent reservations.
When Clerambault, much moved, quoted statements signed by two or three
of Perrotin's illustrious colleagues, the latter made a slight gesture
as much as to say: "Ah, you don't say so!"

Clerambault grew hotter and hotter, and Perrotin then changed his
attitude, showing a keen interest in the judicious remarks of his good
friend, nodding his head at every word, answering direct questions
by vague phrases, assenting amiably as one does to someone whom one
cannot contradict.

Clerambault went away out of countenance and discontented, but a few
days later he was reassured as to his friend, when he read Perrotin's
name on a violent protestation of the Academies against the
barbarians. He wrote to congratulate him, and Perrotin thanked him in
a few prudent and sibylline words: