man. Not a book could be written, in his opinion, of which the subject
might not there be discerned in its germ. This view shows how
learnedly he had pursued his early studies of the Bible, and how far
they had led him. Hovering, as it were, over the heads of society, and
knowing it solely from books, he could judge it coldly.

"The law," said he, "never puts a check on the enterprises of the rich
and great, but crushes the poor, who, on the contrary, need
protection."

His kind heart did not therefore allow him to sympathize in political
ideas; his system led rather to the passive obedience of which Jesus
set the example. During the last hours of my life at Vendome, Louis
had ceased to feel the spur to glory; he had, in a way, had an
abstract enjoyment of fame; and having opened it, as the ancient
priests of sacrifice sought to read the future in the hearts of men,
he had found nothing in the entrails of his chimera. Scorning a
sentiment so wholly personal: "Glory," said he, "is but beatified
egoism."

Here, perhaps, before taking leave of this exceptional boyhood, I may
pronounce judgment on it by a rapid glance.

A short time before our separation, Lambert said to me:

"Apart from the general laws which I have formulated--and this,
perhaps, will be my glory--laws which must be those of the human
organism, the life of man is Movement determined in each individual by
the pressure of some inscrutable influence--by the brain, the heart,
or the sinews. All the innumerable modes of human existence result