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BEAUTY.

THING of beauty is a joy for ever; Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness, but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams and health and quiet breathing.

Therefore on every morrow are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'erdarkened ways
Made for our searching. Yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils,
With the green world they live in; and clear
rills

That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose
blooms;

And such too is the grandeur of the dooms We have imagined for the mighty dead— All lovely tales that we have heard or read, An endless fountain of immortal drink, Pouring unto us from the heavens' brink.

Nor do we merely feel these essences

For one short hour. No! Even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,

Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast
That whether there be shine, or gloom o'er-
cast,

They alway must be with us, or we die.

JOHN KEATS.

MOLLIE MEADE.

A STORY WITH TWO SIDES.

I.

COME right in! How are you, Fred?

Find a chair, and have a light."

Well, old boy, recovered yet

From the Mathers' jam last night?" Didn't dance: the German's old." "Didn't you? I had to lead. Awful bore! But where were you?" "Sat it out with Mollie Meade : Jolly little girl she is.

Said she didn't care to dance'D rather have a quiet chat;

Then she gave me such a glance! So, when you had cleared the room

And had captured all the chairs, Having nowhere else, we two

Took possession of the stairs: I was on the lower step,

Mollie on the next aboveGave me her bouquet to hold,

Asked me to draw off her glove. Then, of course, I squeezed her hand, Talked about my wasted life,

II.

Mollie Meade! Well, I declare!
Who'd have thought of seeing you
After what occurred last night

Out here on the Avenue?

Oh, you awful, awful girl!

There! Don't blush: I saw it all." "Saw all what?" "Ahem! Last night, At the Mathers', in the hall."

"Oh, you horrid!
horrid! Where were you?

Wasn't he an awful goose?

Most men must be caught, but he
Ran his neck right in the noose.
I was almost dead to dance-

I'd have done it if I could-
But old Gray said I must stop,

And I promised ma I would;
So I looked up sweet and said
That I'd rather talk with him.
Hope he didn't see my face:

Luckily, the lights were dim.
And then how he squeezed my hand!
And he looked up in my face
With his lovely great big eyes;
Really, it's a dreadful case.
He was all in earnest, too;

But I thought I'd have to laugh
When he kissed the flower I
Looking-oh, like such a calf!

gave,

he has it now
In a wine-glass on his shelves.

It's a mystery to me

Why men will deceive themselves. Saw him kiss me! Oh, you wretch! Well, he begged so hard for one, And I thought there'd no one know; So I let him just for fun. I know it was not really right. To trifle with his feelings, dear,

DEMANDS OF THE BARONS.

HE barons appeared in London on the day appointed (January 6, 1215), and demanded of the king that in consequence of his own oath before the primate, as well as in deference to their just rights, he should grant them a renewal of Henry's charter and a confirmation of the laws of St. Edward. The king, alarmed with their zeal and unanimity, as well as with their power, required a delay, promised that at the festival of Easter he would give them a positive answer to their petition, and offered them the archbishop of Canterbury, the bishop of Ely and the earl of Pembroke, the mareschal, as sureties for his fulfilling this engagement. The barons accepted of the terms and peaceably returned to their castles.

INSURRECTION.

On the approach of the festival of Easter, when they were to expect the king's answer to their petition, they met by agreement at Stamford, and assembled a force consisting of above two thousand knights, besides their retainers and inferior persons without number. Elated with their power, they advanced in a body to Brackley (27th of April), within fifteen miles of Oxford, the place where the

court then resided; and they there received a message from the king, by the archbishop of Canterbury and the earl of Pembroke, desiring to know what those liberties were which they so zealously challenged from their sovereign. They delivered to these messengers a schedule containing the chief articles of their demands, which was sooner shown to the king than he burst into a furious passion and asked why the barons. did not also demand of him his kingdom, swearing that he would never grant them such liberties as must reduce himself to slavery.

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No sooner were the confederated nobles informed of John's reply than they chose Robert Fitz-Walter their general, whom they called the mareschal of the army of God and of holy Church, and they proceeded without further ceremony to levy war upon the king. They besieged the castle of Northampton during fifteen days, though without success. The gates of Bedford Castle were willingly opened to them by William Beauchamp, its owner. They advanced to Ware (24th of May) in their way to London, where they held a correspondence with the principal citizens; they were received without opposition into that capital, and, finding now the great superiority of their force, they issued proclamations requiring the other barons to join them and menacing them, in case of refusal or delay, with committing devastation on their houses and estates. In order to show what might