496 THE DUKE DE MORTEM ART^S ADMINISTRATION. 



there is no parallel in the rest of the work, the fair presumption is, that 

 M. Mazas has suffered his habitual good nature to be imposed upon by 

 some one who has no good will either to M. Guizot or the cause of legiti- 

 macy. The new minister of public instruction is charged with the most 

 preposterous adulation of Monsieur afterwards Charles X., in a conversa- 

 tion between him and the author during the celebrated sojourn at 

 Ghent. M. Guizot, who, till the revolution of 1830 was considered one 

 of the most liberal men in France, is made to instruct this M. Mazas in 

 the mysteries of prevotal courts and exceptional tribunals ; and all this 

 for the purpose of discrediting a minitry which is henceforth to be 

 stigmatized with the nickname of doctrinaire. But if the Duke de 

 Broglie and M. Guizot are out of favour with the Carlists because their 

 opinions are the nearest shade to those of pure legitimacy, the policy of 

 the liberals is extremely short-sighted in grasping at the apocryphal 

 anecdote thus palmed on M. Mazas, since its ulterior tendency is to 

 widen the breach between the doctrinaires and the Carlists, and to de- 

 prive the liberals themselves of that attempt at identification, which with 

 the phrases quasi-legitimacy and semi-restoration, has heretofore suc- 

 ceeded so well with those classes of the community who take their poli- 

 tical opinion on credit. 



Can it be, that M. Thiers is keeping the house department warm for 

 M. Dupin ? and that the honourable and learned deputy for the depart- 

 ment of LaNievre, is unwilling to compromise himself with the present 

 cabinet, until a majority is secured for them and for him, by his election 

 to the presidency of the Chamber ? 



THE HAWTHORN TREE. 



Greenly budding Hawthorn tree, 

 Gladly do I welcome thee ; 

 Mark each modest looking flow'ret, 

 That entwines around thy bow'ret. 

 For altho' the snowy lily, 



To the eye may lovely be ; 

 Yet, not e'en the snowy lily, 

 Hawthorn tree can rival thee. 



Sweetly blooming Hawthorn tree, 

 Who, doth feel no love for thee ? 

 Who that ever chanc'd to meet thee, 

 Past thee by nor deign 'd to greet thee ? 

 For altho' the mossy rosebud 



Sweet to view and perfum'd be, 

 Yet not e'en the mossy rosebud, 

 Hawthorn tree, can rival thee ! 



Softly speckled Hawthorn tree, 

 Human life doth emblem thee ; 

 Pleasures, mortals deem the sweetest, 

 Ever pass away the fleetest. 

 Thus the rosebud, thus the lily 



Fresh and fair to sight may be, 

 When decay's relentless fingers, 

 Hawthorn tree, have blighted thee. 



M. G. L. 



