wrath of years was emptied; and a thousand petty taunts avenged; and the thunder had spent itself; and the air was purged of its fire; and Aihai, at length, possessed his soul untroubled. The world was at last his own. He would go home; and with father and with mother and with sister and with brother he would sit down in peace;-to live and love resolved for ever. And Aihai with sweet looks entered into the dwelling of his kindred; and the dog from the hearth arose and fawned on him; but silent, motionless as the grave, was the whole household else. And Aihai sickened in his heart; but he sat him down, and looked at them. Sullen were they all; and neither looked nor spoke to him. His mother was out of temper: the household demands of his great bulk had wearied her: yet had she been very proud of him. His brothers looked sourly at him: he overshadowed them; he ate more than his own share of the pottage; he took up more than his own room in the bed. His father sat sulky with a red eye, casting up the cost of him. Then Aihai was troubled in his soul, and, rising up, left them. With a swoln heart he passed into the street. The neighbors greeted him—in mockery he thought. And wretched jokes were screamed to him from corners, and the jeering question, When did he intend to stop growing?' But Aihai heeded them not: for he was great. So mile after mile, strode Aihai onwards, neither knowing of his speed, nor of the ground he trode on. Mile after mile: nor stop, nor pause: still onward, onward! Mile after mile, till, suddenly, with a roar, the waves, those shaggy watch-dogs of the sea, uprose and leaped at him. Then Aihai paused; and looked afar upon the waters: and behold! a great ship floated on the swell; and the voices of the mariners that did raise the anchor came cheerily to the land. Then swift thoughts filled the heart of Aihai; and he said to himself that he too would go forth with them to the far lands where the diamond was, and the ruby and the pearl and gold and ivory and things of price. His arm was strong, he would and he would return! So Aihai hailed the ship; and a boat came off for him; and he was taken on board. And his strength pleased the Captain; and he was received into the number of the crew. And many days the good ship journied over the waste of waters; and she encountered many storms. But Aihai was very strong; and his heart was very bold; and he did great things for the good ship and the Captain and his crew, and the lives of all. And many days dwelt Aihai with the stranger; and he was mighty in war, and overcame great princes. But it came to pass that, in the fulness of time, Aihai sickened, and longed for his own land, and his own home. And he took ship; and left the stranger; and behold! he had waxed exceedingly; and he stood now like a giant. And the great ship grew to him as a place of torture. The mast bent and crackled as he scaled it. The shrouds burst beneath his feet. The spars rent and the ropes tore asunder in his hands: and the sides of the ship were become unknown to him. Like a perpetual sentinel, he strode along the deck; and all weathers were alike to him. The mariners, as they heard his step above their heads, grew white and trembled, for the great ship shook beneath it. Strange whispers grew among them: 'Was he man, then? or what was he ?' And they were still far from land; and they saw that their stores were rapidly diminishing. And they thought to themselves what were they to do with this great monster that grew daily taller and taller and larger and larger? So they planned plots; and they shot arrows from their bows against him. But the steel fell broken on the deck; and the conspirators, caught up, each by the nape of the neck, were pitched a furlong far into the sea. Then the rest hid themselves in the sides of the ship; nor would bring food to Aihai. But Aihai laughed; and struck his heel in the deck; and tore the boards up; and seized upon the stores, and ate and drank and filled himself. So the great ship drifted on as if deserted; and every rope and sail remained as they had been put; and only the great shadow of Aihai fell far upon the sea. But, after a time, the mariners were a-hungered; and they crawled to the feet of Aihai, and supplicated food. And Aihai gave them food; and they were filled; and they went up upon the mast, and tended the sails as they had used to do. Aihai, almost reckless of existence, still sails on, until, at last, the ship enters the well-known harbor. The King hears of his monstrous stature, sends for him, and sets him before his palace-gate, to guard it. At first the people flock to see him, as to a sight-but, in the end, like his own Father, 'counting the cost of him,' they murmur. Still Aihai grows, until his rations become too small to satisfy his hunger, while the people would slay him but for fear of his great bulk and power. In bitterness he resolves to go forth to the wilderness, to make the forest his home, and the wild-beasts his companions. And he went forth. A mighty shape, he trode the impenetrable forests; and they crashed before him. He wanted not for food; for his feet were swift and his hands were strong. Raw, uncooked, he ate it; and he was delirious with joy. He whooped to the eagle; he raced with the wild-horse. He chased the elephant in wantonness; and sprang upon him with a shout; and weighed him to the ground; and the huge bulk stumbled powerless. The lion growled and glared and made to spring on him; and Aihai also growled and glared, and mocked him, and took him by the beard, and shook him. And the lion sprang; but Aihai caught him by the paws, and looked him in the face; and tossed him into the air; and the carcase thudded on the ground; and brains and blood bespattered him. Then Aihai laughed; and fearful were the echoes from the empty hills. And he plucked the oak, and tore its green head piece meal, and snapped its trunk upon his knee. He unfixed the rock, and flung it thro the air. He bestrid the lake: he leaped the valley. For he was wild. And the sun, at length, stooped to the forest, and threw his red eye thro the trees; while night, like a widow, came and knelt upon the ground and wept. Then Aihai, on the untrodden grass, stretched his vast bulk and slumbered. And all night long, there were as wings and shapes about the sleeper with fearful whisperings and voice of woe. Yea wo! wo to the murmurer! wo, wo for ever! But the sun arose, and, peeping into the eyes of Aihai, stirred him. And Aihai stood up; and lo! he was taller than the tallest of the mighty forest brood: their green heads lay beneath him like a sea. Then Aihai was amazed, and wandered to and fro in vacancy. But still with tenfold speed he felt his huge frame grow and grow, up rushing to the heavens. In mid air he met the lark, that dropped in terror. And the eagle rested on his head, nor knew that there was life in him. In 'For ever shall I grow, for ever!' In panic of the sudden thought, thus shouted Aihai; and his shout was as a whirlwind that rent the hills and overwhelmed the vallies. Then rushed the mighty bulk, like tempest, o'er the earth, and from the peak of Calpe leaped into the main. vain! Great ocean, like a rivulet, but wets his feet; and the clouds hang as films upon his ankles. His foot is on the earth, as on the cupola of a dome that dwindles, dwindles, leaving it. The sole of his heel can find no resting place! He falls! See him, the mighty log, falling for ever, falling, falling, falling 'Ha! 'tis but a dream!' On the green slope, tree-plumed, that took the champaign in, the youth was sitting; and night was over him, and the unfathomable stars. And he arose and, behold! as he stood up the veil was lifted ; and he saw the whole huge universe laying in the hollow of God's hand. That night, Aihai returned to his own home, fearless: 'Tis His,' he said, 'not mine.' In the morning, he arose, smiling: he felt all men to be his fellows; and all men felt him to be theirs. CRITICAL NOTICES. A Sunday in London. By J. M. CAPES, M.A. London: Longman and Co. pp. lii. 292. Mr. Capes commences his work with a vigorous preface, advocating a more cheerful and Christian observance of the Day of Rest, which we recommend to the perusal of the formalistic-righteous everywhere. His arguments are cogent, and the sketches which follow in the body of the book, well illustrate his positions, and display an accurate acquaintance with London Life, and a sound application of that which passes for religious teaching in the Sunday-schools, Churches, and Conventicles. The whole is intermingled with dialogues of a graphic character, on a great variety of social and religious topics, and some amount of stirring adventure. The Christian Reformer. March to September, 1850. London: E. T. Whitfield, 2, This magazine, which may be characterized as 'moderate and enlightened' in politics and religion, pursues its quiet path of usefulness-we hope likewise, of profit to its conductor as well as its readers. The article on Calvin' is excellent, but, on the whole, gives too favorable a view of the man, who was a cold-hearted cruel bigot. We cannot excuse or palliate 'murder,' which must always have its source in a bad-nature. The article on William Penn,' however, is not so charitable. It presses hardly every inference, and defends the estimate of Macaulay. The People's Review of Literature and Progress. 1 vol. 1850. London: C. Mitchell, Fleet Street. This neat and cheap volume contains a variety of interesting and most thoughtful articles, and deserves a place in every Mechanics' and Working Man's Library. The Bury Observer, and Herald of the Good Times Coming.' No. 1 to 5. Benj. Glover, Bury. One of those local papers which unmistakeably indicates a great step in advance, as regards 'the People.' It is conducted with care, liberality, and superior literary talent. Scaffolding for Teetotal Societies; or How to reach the Top-Stone of the Temperance Reformation. By D. G. PAINE. London: Houlston and Stoneman. Descriptive and Historical Sketches of Islay. By W. MACDONALD, M.A., M.D. With a new way of disposing of that Island, by JOHN MURDOCH. Glasgow: G. Gallie. Leeds Reports of the Rates-Enquiry Committee, with a view to the more profitable employment of Pauper Labor. Leeds: E. Baines and Sons. 1850. Elements of Universal Grammar for the use of Schools and Improvement Societies. By W. BROCKIE. p. 36. Barkas, Newcastle-on-Tyne. Mr. Murdoch's plan seems Mr. Paine's book is good, and full of useful hints. excellent. The Leeds Reports are full of valuable matter on an important social question. Mr. Brockie's 'Elements are well adapted to their purpose. Thoughts on the Nature of Man, the propagation of Creeds, and the formation of Human Character. London: Clayton, 265, Strand. p. 84. This pamphlet appears to be the work of a reflective mind, and is valuable as a systematic collection of Facts bearing on the three great propositions indicated in the title. We have no time, at present, to analyze the exact philosophical value of the author's propositions, tho no man can doubt the vast importance of insentient Circumstances' to vital 'Organization.' This subject has lately been ably discussed in the 'Open Council' of that bravest and ablest of the Newspapers of Britain- The Leader,'-and the views with which we most closely accord will be found in the Letters of Mr. Charles Bray-substantially, and often verbally, identical with the verdict recorded on the 'Metaphysics of Owenism,' twelve years ago, in our tracts of that name. National Education not necessarily Governmental, Sectarian, or Irreligious. London: C. Gilpin. 1850. 'National Education' is the great question of our time, and can alone prepare for the final and quiet settlement of every other. The cheap volume before us will contribute to put the matter in a full and fair light before the public. It consists of a series of Lectures on various departments of the subject, delivered by the friends of the Lancashire-now merged in the National-Public School Association'; several of which are of great ability, and all very much to the purpose. The earnest friends of the Association cannot do better than buy and lend the volume, and the Objecting 'Voluntary' or 'Sectarian,' if sincere and honest, will find especial matter for thought in the Essays of Dr. Davidson, and of Messrs. McKerrow and Ferguson. The Burden of the Bell, and other Lyrics. By T. WESTWOOD, author of 'Beads from a Rosary,' etc. London: E. Lumley, 56, Chancery Lane. 1850. Mr. Westwood is a writer of good taste, who has great mastery of expression, and a true poetical temperament. Several of the Poems in this volume are uncommonly pleasing; the following shall speak for itself. THE BROOK AND THE SYCAMORE. "SHADE me, oh! shade me!"-the Streamlet said For such true service, friendly tree; Bend low-I'll whisper what it shall be; That shall bathe as with freshness of early showers |