talk was started of the advisability of pulling down Little Crinkle altogether, and letting the ground to a rich tanner, who would gladly have taken it as a capital place for large premises and yards in which to carry on a business that had wholly outgrown his present conveniences. This "talk," when it began, always had the effect of shutting the mouths of the women. They wanted to have something done, but that "something" was not the turning them out of house and home, and forcing them into another neighbourhood, which would have been to them another world.

In one of these "tenements," as they were called, Job's wife was now busy toiling, cleaning her furniture, and trying to make it "decent," which, she averred, never could be done in such "a hole as it was!"

One of the few touches of tenderness in this woman's character was a love of flowers. This she possessed strongly, and it was often the means of beguiling her from a fit of sullen grumbling,,sometimes even from a burst of passion.

She had taken her geraniums and a Scarborough lily, on which she much prided herself, from the window-seat, and placed them on the table while she cleaned the panes. When Job and Captain Chancellor came to the door, she pushed the table behind it and released two chairs that had been laid on each other, to enable them to enter and seat themselves; not that she usually indulged her husband with such attentions, but the gentleman's present was fresh in her mind, and she felt bound to welcome him. At the same moment who should appear but Johnny Marks, with his basket on his arm. Much disappointed was she when the captain passed on to Upper Crinkle, and Job and Johnny came in. Job, without uttering a word, threw his basket and smock on the table behind him, and leaned against it. Johnny came forward, and with a bow and a smile offered from his basket a pretty nosegay, saying, "I thought as I would bring you this, Mrs. Chippery, seeing as you had been in trouble, and knowing as flowers is great comforters to them who loves them as you do."

Mrs. Chippery was mollified. She took the gift, and with a grumbling "thank'ee" set about scrutinising the flowers. "You don't grow tufty pinks' here like we do in Yorkshire," she cried, with an exulting grin; "but you can't expect it, of course. Why," (looking at his basket) "you've got a Scarberry lily! Well, so have I, and a beauty mine is.” "And so is this. It's bespoke, and I'm just going to take it to Upper Crinkle for the window, to set off the lodgings in Rock Street."

"Who's a-lodging there?" inquired Mrs. Chip

pery.

"It's Madame-Madame-I can't mind her name; but she's of a deal of consequence, and from what they said at the baker's, where the news is pretty correct, she's kin to the governor."

"Then she don't deserve never a lily, nor nothing so good, not if she's like him," exclaimed Mrs. Chippery.

"I don't know as she minds about lilies, but as to deserving of 'em, if we all got what we deserved there'd be changes, wouldn't there, Job?"

Job, who still leant in silence against the table, just slightly nodded, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

Although he was generally grave, Johnny was

struck by his face now, and he was also sure, when he thought of it, that his being at home at that unusual hour argued something had happened, so he stood with his basket in his hand and looked at him for an explanation. Job thought company might be an advantage to him in telling his bad news, so he said out at once, "You wonder to see me here; but I've done with the governor, leastways, he's done with me; turned off and paid up at a minute's notice." "Dear heart! cried Johnny; "and shall you go to the quarries?"

"Quarries isn't open to them as the governor takes against," said Job; "but never fear, I haven't turned myself off, nor lost my place through my own fault, but only by my misfortune. I shall find work somewhere."

He did not look at his wife as he spoke, but the truth flashed on her in an instant. Although restrained in a degree by Johnny's presence, she burst into a flood of tears more of anger than sorrow, exclaiming, "That's the way with you always, to lay the complaining work upon me, and then flout me for it. If you'd been a man, and spoke up, there'd been no need for me to go worriting and aggravating myself; and I said no more than the truth, as 'I wished the governor had to live a month in this hole, and then he'd know what it was, and give us one of the quarrymen's cottages;' and as to misfortune,' I'm sure it was a misfortune for me as I ever came out of Yorkshire."

'Maybe Madame Topliffe, that's the lady's name, could help you. Baker's folks was saying us she owns part of the quarries, and she's in no fear of the governor," said Johnny.

"But how can one get to see her?" asked Job. "Oh, she's just come to Top Crinkle. I just been leaving a salad and some 'sparagas there; it's one of the grand Cliff houses she's in," said Johnny. "Come away, Job, come at once; she's able to help, and they say she's a good lady as is always willing; go and put it to her, she won't take governor's part, by what baker says, no fear."

The two men stood talking together for a minute, while Mrs. Chippery went on bewailing her lot in a high key. Johnny then took the road to Crinkle, and left Job and his wife together.

"Johnny needn't a' be so proud of his Scarberry lily," said Mrs. Chippery, who, having spent the violence of her wrath, was examining the posy with much interest; "it's a good one, but mine's a deal finer; better colour, too, and taller and larger. Here, Job, get away, and let me put back the flowers."

She gave her husband a push, for he was resting against the table, and when he moved-ah! dismal sight-there was his smock, with his basket on top of it, lying on the flowers. She was speechless for a moment, but her breath returning, she took up the smock and threw it at him, flung his basket out at the door, and taking the shattered lily in her hands, burst into a torrent of abuse, declaring she was "the miserablest woman in the world."

"Missus," said Job, after waiting till she had spent her strength in railing, and had thrown herself into a chair to cry with the broken lily in her hand.

"You needn't a missus' me; I'm missus' to nobody, nor nothing," she sobbed out.

"Well,' wife,' if that'll suit you better," he said, in a voice which was so unlike his usual one that she stared at him and ceased crying.

"You needn't a' speak sharp-like that," she said, waiting for what was coming in some curiosity. "I don't want to speak sharp, but I'll speak plain; if I'd been plain sooner, maybe it would be better for both on us. I think to emigrate." "To what?" she cried.

"To emigrate. Canada, I've heard, is a fine country; I can go there."

"I'm not a-going all that way from Yorkshire, so don't think it," she answered, fiercely.

"Stop till you're axed; I never axed you," he answered, coolly and firmly.

"What! so you mean to leave me to shift for myself. A fine husband you are; and you so religious, too!" She was much excited as she uttered this.

For a moment Job seemed inclined to answer her, but, checking himself, he went and stood in the doorway, and from his heart went up a silent supplication for wisdom and direction. He turned round and stood before her. "Wife," he said, "few words is best. You've many times said you was a fool to marry me, and you've a pining after Yorkshire; go back there. If so be as Madame Topliffe can put me on at the quarries, all well; but if not, it'll make a way for you and me to part without bad credit to either of us, for then I'll go to 'Merica, where Canada is. I'll send you money as I get it, and you can be happy as you was afore you knowed me, and I can get on in peace without having it on my mind that I'd ought to teach you better, and manage you better, and can't, for all I've prayed and tried, God knows how much!"

When he had said this, without waiting for her reply, he went out and turned up the street towards Upper Crinkle.

Had she heard him aright? Was she awake or dreaming? Job, her husband, go to Canada, wherever that might be, and she go to Yorkshire! She was awake, it was no dream, and he had spoken as she had never heard him speak since she had known him. So stern, so positive; not in a hasty fit like her own, when her words came out without her weighing or caring for them, without her knowing what they were; sober, deliberate words he had uttered, and right sure she felt they would be turned into deeds. Long she sat, stupefied; it would tire the reader to describe the conflict her mind underwent between pride on the one hand, and grief and shame on the other; but the result was that, after a hard struggle, she resolved to humble herself and tell him that even Yorkshire would not be happiness to her if separated from him. The remembrance of his long forbearance, his unvaried kindness, and his generous treatment of her came flooding in till her heart was full, and she longed for his return, indifferent as to the success of his mission, so that she could "be one with him again."

CHAPTER IV.

IN Mrs. Macfarlane's best room sat Madame Topliffe. Who was Mrs. Macfarlane? She was the owner of one of the chief houses in Upper Crinkle, and let lodgings to such of the higher class as resorted to that town-large village, in strict speech -to enjoy the beauties of the scenery, for it was a spot renowned for its attractions far and near.

And who was Madame Topliffe? She had been a Miss Chancellor-not a sister, but a distant cousin of the late Widow Crinkle and her sister Hester. She was a widow, and she had married a Frenchman,

and had spent much of her life on the Continent. She liked the Continent better than England, being, as she said, far less hampered by conventionalism there than here. She was a woman of superior parts, untiring energy, and undaunted resolution. Like her cousin Hester, she went over five-barred gates almost without a look or a thought. She was of the middle height, upright as a dart; her face was pale, her hair was grey; she had no attractions of person that would have made an artist entreat her to sit for him, for her beauty was not of the flesh, but of the mind and spirit, and far too high and subtle to be painted. There was a fascination in her grey eye that acted like a spell on those with whom she came in contact, and she obtained a mastery over all with ease, often puzzling them as to how it was they had so readily given way. But perhaps, notwithstanding her high mental powers, this would not so often have been the case had it not been for her noble benevolence, full and free, and her genuine simplicity. There was a charm about her which these graces, no doubt, greatly contributed to make victorious.

Well, such was Madame Topliffe; her circumstances in life were fair in respect of money, though she was not by any means rich; her position in Paris, and wherever she pitched her tent, was high; the best society, that most refined and most exalted by rank and intellect, eagerly sought her out and looked on her as an ornament to their circle. She loved such society, but she was not dependent on it for happiness, she had too many resources in herself for that. Moreover, she had the power of reading and rightly appreciating character in a remarkable way, so that she could find companionship where others would have missed it, because conventional rules raised a barrier which she could overleap, but which to them were impassable.

She was very busy now; on the table before her were a pile of books and a heap of papers. On the top of the frizzled, grey curls into which her hair had arranged itself-for every hair was a type of its owner, and took its independent way without interference from her was perched a cap, which looked as if it had fallen there to rest, like a sea-bird in its flight; yet it gave a finish to her appearance that the most studied toilet would have failed to effect. She evidently had business-and very important business too-on hand, for she had on her brow the slight frown that always indicated such a state of things. As she inspected paper after paper, she seemed to gather conviction of a satisfactory kind, for a smile of triumph displaced the frown, and she exclaimed, "There it is, and let him question it if he likes; he can't contradict it to any purpose!"

"A gentleman, ma'am, would like to see you,” said Mrs. Macfarlane, looking, after the announcement was made, rather disconcertedly at the Scarborough lily with which she had graced the window, which was now on a stool in the corner.

"Ah! you are sorry for that tall flower! A fine flower-very handsome-but it shuts out the light, so put it in your own window. I love flowers on banks and in meadows, but I detest having them in windows."

Mrs. Macfarlane forgot "the gentleman" in her disappointment at the slighted lily, and was carrying it out of the room, when Madame Topliffe added, "What gentleman has paid me a visit? any name? any card?"

lady; card.'

Captain Chancellor! Nothing could have been more apropos; show him up, pray!" exclaimed madame, with great animation.

Another instant and she was at the top of the stairs to meet him. "My dear Capel-how delightful! What kind chance led you here at this juncture?" The captain returned her hearty greeting as heartily, and explained that he was waiting for a train, and had but a few minutes before heard that she was in the place. After mutual congratulations on their unexpected meeting, she entered into her purpose in being at Crinkle without waiting to inquire as to his. Shuffling over the papers, she laid before him in rapid succession the proofs that the Crinkle quarries did not belong to Governor Crinkle, but to other parties, herself being one of those parties; and striking her small clenched fist, not in anger, but with decision, on the table, she said, "He shall refund all and give up all; I shall delight to bring the old tyrant to book!" adding, "I have published far and near that I am one of the owners of the works, and by this time he must have heard it. Yes, yes, we'll bring him to book!"

Captain Chancellor smiled as he answered, "He wants teaching out of more than your book; I have been with him this morning, and curiously enough on the same business as yours.'

Here he entered into an account of all that had passed between them, and described the governor's bitter animosity towards "all Chancellors," and the celebrated oyeless portrait of "Aunt Hester."

"Ah! she deserved it (in effigy)! A sadly wasted woman if all I have heard is true, but you are the only' Chancellor' with whom I have ever come into contact for years and years. I know nothing of the family to which I first belonged."

Captain Chancellor then told her of the claim that was made on the quarries by his sister, Mrs. Callendar, in behalf of her orphans.

66

She listened with great interest, and exclaimed, Oh, it is just quite just. My claim is but small, and I want none of it, for I have enough; but for justice sake I was determined to have the thing inquired into, and here's a copy of that poor runagate woman's will; I got it from Doctors' Commons in consequence of—”

Here Mrs. Macfarlane again knocked at the door. "If you please, ma'am, here's a man--by name Chippery-would be glad to see you on business.'" "Oh!" exclaimed the captain; "my old friend, 'Sunday!""

Madame Topliffe looked at him inquiringly, and he told her he thought he could guess "the busi

"Show him up," said madame. report has spread; I'm glad of it."

"You see the

Job appeared much relieved when he saw his morning acquaintance there, and in a few words told his errand. Madame Topliffe fixed her eyes on him while he spoke.

66

'Why did the governor turn you off?" she asked.

Job answered, "He couldn't say how it came about; he got offended somehows."

"I suppose he's easily offended?" she suggested. "Governor's always been a good paymaster to me, and I'm sorry to leave his work," he replied, firmly, but respectfully.

"Well said!" cried Madame Topliffe. "I don't like to hear people abuse their employers when they turn them off. Serve me as you have served him (if ever you have need to do it). Here," writing as she spoke, "take this order to the overseer of the quarrymen; I have seen him. I put you on at the works, and I hope you will keep there. This gentleman has given you a workman's character." Job's surprise and happiness made him silent. Madame Topliffe perceived it, and said, with a smile, "Go, good man; never mind thanks."

"Quite a triumphal arch,' I call that, to grace the opening of my proprietorship. Don't you?" she said, turning gaily to the captain. "Now, Capel, you mustn't go to-night; you must bo my chaperone to the Thorpe. We'll go and beard the lion in his den! I'm quite impatient for it!"

"I chaperone you!" he exclaimed. "Nay, it must be your protection that will enable me to face him. You call him a lion; I demur; he's a bear!"

"Oh, we shall be two to one; good odds. Let us go at once." She started up and rang her bell. My bonnet and my scarf, good friend," she cried, as Mrs. Macfarlane entered.

"You have no carriage here?" the captain asked. "Carriage! do I travel with a carriage?" she asked, almost scornfully. "There will be a cab or fly got for me at once. Something to take me and this gentleman to the Thorpe," she said, quickly, to the landlady, as she put on her bonnet and scarf.

Mrs. Macfarlane declared there was not a carriage for hire, except what were engaged; her husband owned them all.

"But we must go!" exclaimed madame, with energy.

"If it's any message, ma'am, the baker's going up in his cart; he'll take it," replied the landlady.

"Baker's cart! delightful! What could be better i Plenty of room and clean. Come, Capel; we'll go in the baker's cart!"

surprising of historical and ethnographical phenomena.* Scripture tells us that on their departure from Egypt there were 600,000 of them without the women and children, which makes it plain

that the entire number must have ranged at least from 1,500,000 to 2,000,000. The Jews of modern times are the descendants of no more than the sixth part of those who are mentioned in Exodus. Their aggregate number being roughly estimated between seven and eight millions, it may be asserted that the entire Jewish nation, assuming the ten "lost tribes" to have increased and multiplied like those of Judah, Benjamin, and Levi, would now be no less than forty millions strong, which is about the population of the German empire or of the United States. However, it is only with the traceable Jews we have to busy ourselves now, and those are to be found chiefly in Europe, and by far the largest number of them in those vast tracts of land which, until the middle of the seventeenth century, formed the monarchical republic of Poland. The kingdom of the Piastes and the Jagellones was, during the Middle Ages, the refuge af all those many thousands of Jews who were anxious to find a refuge from the persecutions they underwent in other countries of Europe, and Poland, where they were treated with kindness, formed a sort of half-way house for them on their intended return to the Land of Promise; nay, so great and irresistible did they find the attractions of Sarmatia, that they lost sight of the goal of their anxious. longing altogether, and over the flesh pots of Poland forgot the land of milk and honey,

But to return to statistics, let us first give a general account of the numbers of Jews to be found in the various countries of the world. In doing so we shall endeavour to follow the census returns of 1870 and 1871, or those coming nearest to these two years, so as to equalise the time as nearly as possible, and prevent errors that might arise from the diversity of the period in which the enumeration took place. Having given the numbers in a general way, we purpose to give particulars of those countries in which the children of Israel muster strongest. In those cases in which there are no census returns of religious professions extant, approximate estimates are found, and in each of these cases an asterisk is prefixed to the name of the country.

EUROPE.

Baden.

Würtemberg

Hesse (Grand Duchy) 852,894

Prussia

Low Countries (1873) and Luxemburg

68,526

German Empire (1871)

512,160

Switzerland

6,996

Among the eleven provinces of the Prussian king

dom the Jews are divided as follows:-
:-

Prussia proper [Königsberg] 3,137,545 41,057
Brandenburg [Berlin].

Norway (1865)

25

Pomerania [Stettin]

Denmark (1870)

4,290

Posen [Posen]

Russia and Poland (1870)

*Turkey in Europe.

2,759,811

350,000

5,600

There are now upwards of 30,000 Jews in Palestine. Of these, the largest numbers are to be found in the following places, viz., Jerusalem, 13,500; Safet, 5,000; Tiberias, 2,500; Hebron, 1,000; Jaffa, 1,000; Haifa, 1,500.

+ According to the "Times" of India there were in Bombay in 1865, 282 Jews. In Calcutta 681 (Census Report of Calcutta, 1866),

Silesia [Breslau].

Schleswig-Holstein

13.

2,103,174

2,863,229 47,484 16-6 1,431,633 9-1 13,036 1,583,843 61,982 39. 12-6 2-8

46,629

5,917

995,873

3,729 3.7

1,963,618

12,799 6-5

1,775,175 17,245 9.7

1,400,370 26. 36,390 3,579,347 38,423 10.5