f temples, and leaves the altars
to crumble into dust; and calls man to seek for it where alone
it resides--in thought, in intelligence, in virtue, in nature,
in infinity."--(II. 39, 46, 47.)

This passage conveys an idea of the peculiar style, and perhaps unique
charm, of Lamartine's work. It is the mixture of vivid painting with
moral reflection--of nature with sentiment--of sensibility to beauty,
with gratitude to its Author, which constitutes its great attraction.
Considering in what spirit the French Revolution was cradled, and from
what infidelity it arose, it is consoling to see such sentiments
conceived and published among them. True they are not the sentiments of
the majority, at least in towns; but what then? The majority is ever
guided by the thoughts of the great, not in its own but a preceding age.
It is the opinions of the great among our grandfathers that govern the
majority at this time; our great men will guide our grandsons. If we
would foresee what a future age is to think, we must observe what a few
great men are now thinking. Voltaire and Rousseau have ruled France for
two generations; the day of Chateaubriand and Guizot and Lamartine will
come in due time.

But the extraordinary magnitude of these ruins in the middle of an
Asiatic wilderness, suggests another consideration. We are perpetually
speaking of the march of intellect, the vast spread of intelligence, the
advancing civilization of the world; and in some respects our boasts are
well founded. Certainly, in one particular, society has made a mighty
step in advance. The abolition of domestic slavery has emancipated the
millions who formerly toiled in bondage; the art of printing has
multiplied an hundredfold the reading and thinking world. Our
opportunities, therefore, have been prodigiously enlarged; our means of
elevation are tenfold what they were in ancient times. But has our
elevation itself kept pace with these enlarged means? Has the increased
direction of the popular mind to lofty and spiritual objects, the more
complete subjugation of sense, the enlarged perception of the useful and
the beautiful, been in proportion to the extended facilities given to
the great body of the people? Alas! the fact is just the reverse. Balbec
was a mere station in the desert, without territory, harbour, or
subjects--maintained solely by the commerce of the East with Europe
which flowed through its walls. Yet Balbec raised, in less than a