case to which Beth Shamai would restrict | lation is to be found in the decision, that its application, is enough to prove that, a man is guilty who plucks a flower, leaf, however opposed the opposite view or fruit from a plant growing in a perfomight be to sound morality, it was quite rated flower-pot, but guiltless if the pot consistent with the legislation on the be not perforated.* subject. Another point in which the Oral Law of the Jews appears to have passed, by the time of the completion of the Talmud, through phases similar to those familiar to English lawyers under the name of legal fictions, regards the law of the Sabbath. The precept to rest from work on that day obtained such a comprehensive application, that the question arose whether the wearing of a false tooth on leaving the house on the Sabbath (as being something borne as a burden by the wearer) was not a breach of the law. After sunset on the eve of the Sabbath it was forbidden to go forth with a weapon, with a needle, with a chain, a finger-ring, a girdle, or a purse. Thirtynine principal occupations are named as forbidden on the Sabbath. Among these are to tie, to untie, to sew two or more stitches, to kindle or to extinguish fire, to write two letters of the alphabet, or to carry anything from one domicile to another. The excessive severity into which the original command of reposing from work on the Sabbath had thus become exaggerated, was met by certain legal fictions respecting what is called "reshuth," for which the nearest equivalent is the term domicile. In the Seder Moed, or second order of the Talmud, which treats of Festivals, the first treatise regards the due observance of the Sabbath-day. But this is followed by the tract Erubin, or the combination of places and limits, by means of which the extreme rigour of the rabbinical ordinances may be considerably lightened. This legislation is so entirely conventional as to show that its growth and development must have been tardy. Thus, according to the Mishna, no man is allowed to go beyond 2,000 paces from the bounds of his domicile on the day of rest the Sabbath-day's journeys of the Gospels. But if he has deposited food for two meals in any particular place, before the Sabbath, he has established a legal domicile there, beyond which he may go for 2,000 paces. Again, the houses in a court or street may be combined into one "reshuth," so as to allow things to be conveyed from one house to another on the Sabbath. Perhaps the most striking proof of the extremely artificial and conventional nature of this elaborate legis- | It is impossible to contemplate the history of the Jewish nation as controlled by the iron rule of tradition, and fettered by the subtleties of the Halaca, without à certain feeling of melancholy. There is so much in the heroic endurance of this ancient race; in the sublime contempt of their paternal faith for chance and change in human affairs; in their unshaken expectation, with that which is the evidence of things unseen, of the King Messiah; in the noble confession, "and though He retard his coming, yet will I wait for Him till He appears; to command sympathy and respect, that we may at first feel at a loss to account for the strict exclusion of the Jews from the comity of nations. The folk lore of the world is instinct with anticipation of good to come. Rex quon dam, Rexque futurus, was the epitaph of a legendary king, of our own blood, that attested this common expectation. Don Sebastian is even yet expected in Portugal to return from his protracted exile. The sleep of Ragner Lodbrok is to be broken when the old Norse king's time has come. The advent of the twelfth Imaum is expected by the disciples of the Arabian Prophet. No less local, personal, and certain is the reign of Christ which some Christians hold to be foretold on earth, and designate as the Millennium. So closely do these expectations, notably the last, join with the one great conservative element of the Jewish creed, that we might be tempted to suppose that the differences which separate that nation from Islam or from Christendom are little other than those idle dogmatic subtleties, which have but little philosophical weight, although they often raise polemical controversy to its whitest glow. But when we sound the sombre, exclusive, pitiless depths of the inner doctrine of the Talmud, we see that a reason exists for that marked and secular demarcation between the Jew and the Gentile, for which we were about to blame our own intolerance. Purposely and rigidly, in exile no less than in the splendour of the theocratic polity, has the hand of the Jew been directed by the depositaries of his traditions against every man. It is the law of self-defence that has raised the * Sabboth, x. 6. It was thus that Isaura woke the morning after the conversation with Alain de Rochebriant, and as certain words, then spoken, echoed back on her ear, she knew why she was so happy, why the world was so changed. In those words she heard the voice of Graham Vane-no! she had not deceived herself - she was loved! she was loved! What mattered that long cold interval of absence? She had not forgotten-she could not believe that absence had brought forgetfulness. There are moments when we insist on judging another's heart by our own. All would be explained some day — all would come right. hand of every man against him. Our aware that the cause is no mere illusion, ancestors were not, after all, so blindly that it has its substance in words spoken cruel as some writers are too ready to by living lips, in things that belong to the admit. Offers of friendship and of broth-work-day world. erhood are as powerless as are the fires of the Inquisition to break down that moral wall, substantial as the very fortress wall of the Temple, that resisted the voice of Christ, and that has been strengthened by the constant efforts of the doctors of the Talmud for five centuries after the fall of Jerusalem. The power of resistance is the same at this moment that it was two thousand years ago. The point of attack is still the same as in the days of Herod. To the question, "Who is my neighbour?" the Talmud returns one reply, and the parable of the Good Samaritan another. The mercy to be shown, as Moses taught, to the stranger, is qualified by the Halaca by the assumption that he must also be a proselyte. All questions as to which accord would be otherwise possible, whether in the historic past, or the dimly predicted future, are insoluble, while the justice, mercy, and truth-the weightier matters of the Law-are, by the guardians of the Law of Moses, confined to those of their own faith and blood. The vitality of Judaism was contained in the doctrine, that the Jews had one father, even God. The hope of the future of humanity lies in the good tidings that God is the common Father of mankind. From Blackwood's Magazine. THE PARISIANS. BY LORD LYTTON. BOOK NINTH. CHAPTER I. ON waking some morning, have you ever felt, reader, as if a change for the brighter in the world, without and within you, had suddenly come to pass - some new glory has been given to the sunshine, some fresh balm to the air- - you feel younger, and happier, and lighter, in the very beat of your heart - you almost fancy you hear the chime of some spiritual music far off, as if in the deeps of heaven? You are not at first conscious how, or wherefore, this change has been brought about. Is it the effect of a dream in the gone sleep, that has made this morning so different from mornings that have dawned before? And while vaguely asking yourself that question, you become How lovely was the face that reflected itself in the glass as she stood before it smoothing back her long hair, murmuring sweet snatches of Italian love-song, and blushing with sweeter love-thoughts as she sang! All that had passed in that year so critical to her outer life - the authorship, the fame, the public career, the popular praise - vanished from her mind as a vapour that rolls from the face of a lake to which the sunlight restores the smile of a brightened heaven. She was more the girl now than she had ever been since the day on which she sat reading Tasso on the craggy shore of Sorrento. Singing still as she passed from her chamber, and entering the sitting-room, which fronted the east, and seemed bathed in the sunbeams of deepening May, she took her bird from its cage, and stopped her song to cover it with kisses, which perhaps yearned for vent somewhere. Later in the day she went out to visit Valérie. Recalling the altered manner of her young friend, her sweet nature became troubled. She divined that Valérie had conceived some jealous pain which she longed to heal; she could not bear the thought of leaving any one that day unhappy. Ignorant before of the girl's feelings towards Alain, she now partly guessed them-one woman who loves in secret is clairvoyante as to such secrets in another. Valérie received her visitor with a coldness she did not attempt to disguise. Not seeming to notice this, Isaura commenced the conversation with frank mention of Rochebriant. "I have to thank you so much, dear Valérie, for a pleasure "Do not wonder at that, Valérie; and do not grudge me the happiest moments I have known for months." "In talking with M. de Rochebriant! No doubt, Mademoiselle Cicogna, you found him very charming." To her surprise and indignation, Valérie here felt the arm of Isaura tenderly entwining her waist, and her face drawn towards Isaura's sisterly kiss. "Listen to me, naughty child-listen and believe. M. de Rochebriant can' never be charming to me - never touch a chord in my heart or my fancy, except as friend to another, or kiss me in your turn, Valérie -as suitor to yourself." Valérie here drew back her pretty childlike head, gazed keenly a moment into Isaura's eyes, felt convinced by the limpid candour of their unmistakable honesty, and flinging herself on her friend's bosom, kissed her passionately, and burst into tears. The complete reconciliation between the two girls was thus peacefully effected; and then Isaura had to listen, at no small length, to the confidences poured into her ears by Valérie, who was fortunately too engrossed by her own hopes and doubts to exact confidences in return. Valérie's was one of those impulsive eager natures that longs for a confidante. Not so Isaura's. Only when Valérie had unburthened her heart, and been soothed and caressed into happy trust in the future, did she recall Isaura's explanatory words, and said, archly: "And your absent friend? Tell me about him. Is he as handsome as Alain?" "Nay," said Isaura, rising to take up the mantle and hat she had laid aside on entering. "they say that the colour of a flower is in our vision, not in the leaves." Then with a grave melancholy in the look she fixed upon Valérie, she added: "Rather than distrust of me should occasion you pain, I have pained myself, in making clear to you the reason why I felt interest in M. de Rochebriant's conversation. In turn, I ask of you a favour do not on this point question me farther. There are some things in our past which influence the present, but to which we dare not assign a future-on which we cannot talk to another. What soothsayer can tell us if the dream of a yesterday will be renewed on the night of a morrow? All is said we trust one another, dearest." CHAPTER II. THAT evening the Morleys looked in at Isaura's on their way to a crowded assembly at the house of one of those rich Americans, who were then outvying the English residents at Paris in the good graces of Parisian society. I think the Americans get on better with the French than the English do — I mean the higher class of Americans. They spend more money; their men speak French better; the women are better dressed, and, as a general rule, have read more largely, and converse more frankly. Mrs. Morley's affection for Isaura had increased during the last few months. As so notable an advocate of the ascendancy of her sex, she felt a sort of grateful pride in the accomplishments and growing renown of so youthful a member of the oppressed sisterhood. But, apart from that sentiment, she had conceived a tender mother-like interest for the girl who stood in the world so utterly devoid of family ties, so destitute of that household guardianship and protection which, with all her assertion of the strength and dignity of woman, and all her opinions as to woman's right of absolute emancipation from the conventions fabricated by the selfishness of man, Mrs. Morley was too sensible not to value for the individual, though she deemed it not needed for the mass. Her great desire was that Isaura should marry well, and soon. American women usually marry so young, that it seemed to Mrs. Morley an anomaly in social life, that one so gifted in mind and person as Isaura should already have passed the age in which the belles of the great Republic are enthroned as wives and consecrated as mothers. We have seen that in the past year she had selected from our unworthy but necessary sex, Graham Vane as a suita ble spouse to her young friend. She had divined the state of his heart she had more than suspicions of the state of Isaura's. She was exceedingly perplexed, and exceedingly chafed at the Englishman's strange disregard to his happiness and her own projects. She had counted, all this past winter, on his return to Paris; and she became convinced that some misunderstanding, possibly some lover's quarrel, was the cause of his protracted much more when people praise us. But, till we have put the creatures in their proper place, we must take them for what they are." absence, and a cause that, if ascertained, | mous: what will be his admiration now! could be removed. A good opportunity Men are so vain they care for us so now presented itself - Colonel Morley was going to London the next day. He had business there which would detain him at least a week. He would see Graham; and as she considered her husband the shrewdest and wisest person in the world—I mean of the male sex-she had no doubt of his being able to turn Graham's mind thoroughly inside out, and ascertain his exact feelings, views, and intentions. If the Englishman, thus assayed, were found of base metal, then, at least, Mrs. Morley would be free to cast him altogether aside, and coin for the uses of the matrimonial market some nobler effigy in purer gold. "My dear child," said Mrs. Morley, in low voice, nestling herself close to Isaura, while the Colonel, duly instructed, drew off the Venosta, "have you heard anything lately of our pleasant friend Mr. Vane?" You can guess with what artful design Mrs. Morley put that question pointblank, fixing keen eyes on Isaura while she put it. She saw the heightened colour, the quivering lip, of the girl thus abruptly appealed to, and she said, inly: "I was right she loves him! " "I heard of Mr. Vane last night-accidentally." "Is he coming to Paris soon?" "Not that I know of. How charmingly that wreath becomes you! it suits the earrings so well, too." Here the Venosta, with whom the poor Colonel had exhausted all the arts at his command for chaining her attention, could be no longer withheld from approaching Mrs. Morley, and venting her admiration of that lady's wreath, earrings, robes, flounces. This dazzling apparition had on her the effect which a candle has on a moth-she fluttered round it, and longed to absorb herself in its blaze. But the wreath especially fascinated her a wreath which no prudent lady with colourings less pure, and features less exquisitely delicate than the pretty champion of the rights of woman, could have fancied on her own brows without a shudder. But the Venosta in such matters was not prudent. "It can't be, dear," she cried piteously, extending her arms towards Isaura. "I must have one exactly like. Who made it? Cara signora, give me the address." "Ask the Colonel, dear Madame; he chose and bought it," and Mrs. Morley glanced significantly at her well-tutored Frank. "Madame," said the Colonel, speaking in English, which he usually did with the Venosta - who valued herself on knowing that language, and was flattered to be addressed in it-while he amused himself by introducing into its forms the dainty Americanisms with which he puzzled the Britisher- he might well puzzle the Florentine,—“ Madame, I am too anxious for the appearance of my wife to submit to the test of a rival screamer like yourself in the same apparel. With all the homage due to a sex of which I am enthused dreadful, I decline to designate the florist from whom I purchased Mrs. Morley's head fixings." "Frank chose it; he has good taste for a man. I trust him with my commissions to Hunt and Roskell's, but I limit him as to price, he is so extravagant - men are, when they make presents. They seem to think we value things according to their cost. They would gorge us with jewels, and let us starve for want of a smile. Not that Frank is so bad as the rest of them. But à propos of Mr. Vane-Frank will be sure to see him, and scold him well for deserting us all. I should not be surprised if he brought the deserter back with him, for I send a little note by Frank," inviting him to pay us a visit. We have spare rooms in our apartments." Isaura's heart heaved beneath her robe, but she replied in a tone of astonishing indifference: "I believe this is the height of the London season, and Mr. Vane would probably be too engaged to profit even by an invitation so tempting." "Nous verrons. How pleased he will be to hear of your triumphs! He admired you so much before you were fa "Wicked man!" cried the Venosta, shaking her finger at him coquettishly. You are jealous! Fie! a man should never be jealous of a woman's rivalry with woman; " and then with a cynicism that might have become a greybeard, she added, but of his own sex every man should be jealous- though of his dearest friend. Isn't it so, Colonello?" The Colonel looked puzzled, bowed, and made no reply. "That only shows," said Mrs. Morley, rising, "what villains the Colonel has the misfortune to call friends and fellow-men." "I fear it is time to go," said Frank, | rooms chez nous― a chamber that looks glancing at the clock. In theory the most rebellious, in practice the most obedient, of wives, Mrs. Morley here kissed Isaura, resettled her crinoline, and shaking hands with the Venosta, retreated to the door. "I shall have the wreath yet," cried the Venosta, impishly. "La speranza è femmina" (Hope is female). "Alas!" said Isaura, half mournfully, half smiling" alas ! do you not remember what the poet replied when asked what disease was most mortal?—the hectic fever caught from the chill of hope.'" CHAPTER III. GRAHAM VANE was musing very gloomily in his solitary apartment one morning. when his servant announced Colonel Morley. He received his visitor with more than the cordiality with which every English politician receives an American citizen. Graham liked the Colonel too well for what he was in himself, to need any national title to his esteem. After some preliminary questions and answers as to the health of Mrs. Morley, the length of the Colonel's stay in London, what day he could dine with Graham at Richmond or Gravesend, the Colonel took up the ball. "We have been reckoning to see you at Paris, sir, for the last six months." "I am very much flattered to hear that you have thought of me at all; but I am not aware of having warranted the expectation you so kindly express." "I guess you must have said something to my wife which led her to do more than expect- to reckon on your return. And, by the way, sir, I am charged to deliver to you this note from her, and to back the request it contains that you will avail yourself of the offer. Without summarizing the points I do so." Graham glanced over the note addressed to him: "DEAR MR. VANE, - Do you forget how beautiful the environs of Paris are in May and June? how charming it was last year at the lake of Enghien? how gay were our little dinners out of doors in the garden arbours, with the Savarins and the fair Italian, and her incomparably amusing chaperon? Frank has my orders to bring you back to renew these happy days, while the birds are in their first song, and the leaves are in their youngest green. I have prepared your out on the Champs Elysées, and a quiet cabinet de travail at the back, in which you can read, write, or sulk, undisturbed. Come, and we will again visit Enghien and Montmorency. Don't talk of engagements. If man proposes, woman disposes. Hesitate not- obey. Your sincere little friend, LIZZY." "My dear Morley," said Graham, with emotion, "I cannot find words to thank your wife sufficiently for an invitation so graciously conveyed. Alas! I cannot accept it." 66 Why?" asked the Colonel, dryly. "I have too much to do in London." "Is that the true reason, or am I to suspicion that there is anything, sir, which makes you dislike a visit to Paris?" The Americans enjoy the reputation of being the frankest putters of questions whom liberty of speech has yet educated into les recherches de la vérité, and certainly Colonel Morley in this instance did not impair the national reputation. sudden Graham Vane's brow slightly contracted, and he bit his lip as if stung by a pang; but after a pause, he answered with a good-humoured smile — moment's "No man who has taste enough to admire the most beautiful city, and appreciate the charms of the most brilliant society in the world, can dislike Paris." "My dear sir, I did not ask if you disliked Paris, but if there were anything you dislike coming back to it that made on a visit." "What a notion! and what a crossexaminer you would have made if had you been called to the bar! surely, my dear friend, you can understand that when a man has in one place business which he cannot neglect, he may decline going to another place, whatever pleasure it would give him to do so. By the way, there is a great ball at one of the Minister's tonight; you should go there, and I will point out to you all those English notabilities in whom Americans naturally take interest. I will call for you at eleven o'clock. Lord, who is a connection of mine, would be charmed to know you." Morley hesitated; but when Graham said, "How your wife will scold you if you lose such an opportunity of telling her whether the Duchess of Mis as beautiful as report says, and whether Gladstone or Disraeli seem to your phrenological science to have the finer head!" the Colonel gave in, and it was settled |