easure of thy sins at last
Was full, and then the avenging bolt was cast.

Go then, accursed of God, and take thy place
With baleful memories of the elder time,
With many a wasting pest, and nameless crime,
And bloody war that thinned the human race;
With the Black Death, whose way
Through wailing cities lay,
Worship of Moloch, tyrannies that built
The Pyramids, and cruel creeds that taught
To avenge a fancied guilt by deeper guilt,--
Death at the stake to those that held them not.
Lo, the foul phantoms, silent in the gloom
Of the flown ages, part to yield thee room.

I see the better years that hasten by
Carry thee back into that shadowy past,
Where, in the dusty spaces, void and vast,
The graves of those whom thou hast murdered lie.
The slave-pen, through whose door
Thy victims pass no more,
Is there, and there shall the grim block remain
At which the slave was sold; while at thy feet
Scourges and engines of restraint and pain
Moulder and rust by thine eternal seat.
There, 'mid the symbols that proclaim thy crimes,
Dwell thou, a warning to the coming times.

REVIEWS AND LITERARY NOTICES.

_Ecce Homo: a Survey of the Life and Work of Jesus Christ._ Boston:
Roberts Brothers.

The merits of this book are popular and obvious, consisting in a strain
of liberal, enlightened sentiment, an ingenious and original cast of
thought, and a painstaking lucidity of style which leaves the writer's
meaning even prosaically plain. There is a good deal of absurd and even
puerile exegesis in its pages, which makes you wonder how so much
sentimentality can co-exist with so much ability; but the book is
vitiated for all purposes beyond mere literary entertainment by one
grand defect, which is the guarded theologic obscurity the writer keeps
up, or the attempt he makes to estimate Christianity apart from all
question of the truth or falsity of Christ's personal pretensions
towards God. The author may have reached in his own mind the most
definite theologic convictions, but he sedulously withholds them from
his reader; and the consequence is, that the book awakens and satisfies
no intellectual interest in the latter, but remains at best a curious
literary speculation. For what men have always been moved by in
Christianity is not so much the superiority of its moral inculcations to
th