Whatever may be written upon the dark pages of a nation's future, it is very evident that "Legitimacy in France" has made considerable ground among the masses. It cannot, certainly, be said to have been from the influence of convictions, or, in the general herd, from any reliance upon theories of legitimacy, properly speaking. It has arisen from disgust and distrust of other governments; from the sad experience of the miseries occasioned to the country by the present revolution; from despair in the stability of a republican rule, with insurrection always growling beneath the surface; from hope in a greater stability and confidence under a legitimate monarchy. Legitimacy, then, can but grow and flourish in France in the chances of revolutions; and if it triumphs, it will be by the excesses of its enemies, and the restless subversive attempts of the ultra-republican party. But again: who can say confidently that it will triumph? Still more: who shall dare, in the present state of France, to say that it _shall not_? FOOTNOTE: [23] _Une Visite â Monsieur le Duc de Bordeaux._ Par CHARLES DIDIER. Paris: 1849. _Dieu le Veut._ Par VICOMTE D'ARLINCOURT. Paris: 1848-9. THE COLLEGE.--A SKETCH IN VERSE. "Scinditur incertum studia in contraria vulgus." Oft has some fair inquirer bid me say, What tasks, what sports beguile the gownsman's day; What cares are ours--by what light arts we try To teach our sober-footed hours to fly. List, then, ye belles, who, nursed in golden ease, No arts need study, but the arts to please; Who need no science, while with skill ye know To wield the weapons which your charms bestow-- With grace to thread the dance's mazy throng-- To strike the tuneful chords, and swell the song-- To rouse man's sterner spirit to his toil, And cheer its harshness with a grateful smile. Thus my weak muse a bolder flight shall raise, Lured by the glorious hope of Beauty's praise. Soon as the clouds divide, and dawning day Tints the quadrangle with its earliest ray, The porter, wearied with his watchings late, Half opes his eyelids and the wicket gate; And many a yawning gyp comes slipshod in, To wake his master ere the bells begin.