rpetuated simply to
present to Christian eyes a clear and awful warning of the Divine
vengeance, a special, and at the same time an overwhelming example of the
vicissitudes which God alone can determine in the life of a people.

[Illustration: Fig. 357.--Expulsion of the Jews in the Reign of the
Emperor Hadrian (A.D. 135): "How Heraclius turned the Jews out of
Jerusalem."--Fac-simile of a Miniature in the "Histoire des Empereurs,"
Manuscript of the Fifteenth Century, in the Library of the Arsenal,
Paris.]

M. Depping, an historian of this race so long accursed, after having been
for centuries blessed and favoured by God, says, "A Jewish community in an
European town during the Middle Ages resembled a colony on an island or on
a distant coast. Isolated from the rest of the population, it generally
occupied a district or street which was separated from the town or
borough. The Jews, like a troop of lepers, were thrust away and huddled
together into the most uncomfortable and most unhealthy quarter of the
city, as miserable as it vas disgusting. There, in ill-constructed houses,
this poor and numerous population was amassed; in some cases high walls
enclosed the small and dark narrow streets of the quarter occupied by this
branded race, which prevented its extension, though, at the same time, it
often protected the inhabitants from the fury of the populace."

In order to form a just appreciation of what the Jewish quarters were like
in the mediaeval towns, one must visit the _Ghetto_ of Rome or ancient
Prague. The latter place especially has, in all respects, preserved its
antique appearance. We must picture to ourselves a large enclosure of
wretched houses, irregularly built, divided by small streets with no
attempt at uniformity. The principal thoroughfare is lined with stalls, in
which are sold not only old clothes, furniture, and utensils, but also new
and glittering articles. The inhabitants of this enclosure can, without
crossing its limits, procure everything necessary to material life. This
quarter contains the old synagogue, a square building begrimed with the
dirt of ages, and so covered with dirt and moss that the stone of which it
is built is scarcely visible. The building, which is as mournful as a
prison, has only narrow loopholes by way of windows, and a door so low
that one must stoop to enter it. A dark passage leads to the interior,
into which air and light can scarcely penetrate. A few lamps contend wit