church; so that a worshipper, when entering the holy place, and when throwing himself on the ground in prayer, might have his face towards the Temple hill.

In early days a balcony hung above the door of a synagogue, as a balcony still hangs over the door of some Syrian houses; but when the first traditions of the Exile had passed away, when Greek art had become familiar to the Jews, and foreign masons, deft and supple in their craft, had come to be employed in erecting sacred structures, as they were on nearly all private and public buildings, the simple balcony gave place to a handsome portico. Such a change, however, is not likely to have occurred in Nazareth, an obscure hamlet, peopled by peasants and shepherds, and lying away from the Roman road.

A house of unhewn stones, taken up from the hill-side; squat and square, of the ancient Hebrew style; having a level roof, but neither spire nor tower, neither dome nor minaret, to enchant the eye, like some of the houses and mosques of the modern town; a pile to be noticed in the group of buildings only for its situation and its size such was that simple synagogue of the Jews in which JESUS taught. The front, though otherwise plain, would have a wreath of fruits, either tooled or painted, in imitation of the clustering vine above the Temple door.

Inside, a Syrian synagogue is like one of our parish schools; with seats for the men, rough sofas of wood, half-covered with rushes and straw; a higher

seat stands in the centre, like that of a mosque, for the elders of the town; a desk for the reader of the day; at the south end a closet, concealed by a hanging veil, in which the torah, a written copy of the Pentateuch, is kept in the sacred ark. A silver lamp, kept always burning, a candlestick with eight arms, a pulpit, a reading desk, are the chief articles of furniture in the room. The floor is rough, often unpaved, and the raised bench in the middle, from which the elders lead the service, is painted in a crude style of art with lakes and gardens, boats and flowers. The walls are bare, with no gold, no colour upon them, though they seem to be occasionally washed with lime. Nothing in a Syrian synagogue appeals to the sense of beauty, mystery and awe, like the majestic art employed in the synagogues of Amsterdam and Livorno; art which the Jews of those cities may have learnt from the Moors and carried with them out of Spain.

In olden time, women were allowed to enter the synagogue with the men, as they still go into the mosque; though they were even then parted from father and son by a wooden screen. They are now shut out. A few females may be admitted, as in Zion, to an adjoining room, from which they can peer into the holy place through a grill; others may climb into a gallery near the roof, which they gain from the outside; and others, again, are content to crowd about the building, and to peep at what is being done through windows opening on the street. No female foot is now suffered to tread the synagogue floor.

Before entering a synagogue, as before entering a mosque, a man is expected to dip his hands into water; and where there is no stream or fountain near, it is usual to provide a trough. To cleanse the body is everywhere in the East the first part of an act of worship. A scraper stands at the synagogue door, lest the filth from the street should be brought in to defile the place; this scraper being a fixed part of the arrangements, like the bench raised from the floor and the lamp swinging from the roof.

Ten persons being necessary to form a meeting, every town or city having a synagogue, appointed ten men, called Batlanim (idlers men of leisure), who were bound to appear in their places at the hour of prayer; and were otherwise made useful in collecting alms for the poor. Higher in office than these Ten was the Chazzan; a sort of deacon, who took charge of the house and of the scroll, who opened the synagogue door, who kept peace within the court, and did the rough work of police; expelling the unruly, scourging the wicked, executing justice on the condemned.

Next came the Meturgeman; an interpreter of the Law, whose duty it was to stand near the Reader for the day, and translate the sacred verses, one by one, from the Hebrew into the vulgar tongue. Above him, again, were the Elders; in large towns a college of Elders; with a general charge over the flock; at the head of whom was a Chief Elder, a man chosen for his age, his piety, his beneficence, perhaps for his money; who presided over the college, and was the chief reader of the day.

When the people came in, they first bowed to the ark; the elders took their places on the raised platform; the rich went up to high seats near the ark; the poor sat on wooden sofas matted with straw; the little boys, many of them all but naked, rolled and tumbled about the floor. A bright, fierce, eager look half-scowl, half-rapture like that of famished lions burned and lowered in the faces of men and women. A prayer was said, and one of the psalms of David sung. The chazzan walked up to the veil, which he drew aside with reverence, lifted the ark from its niche behind the veil, took out the torah, a roll on which the Five Books were written, carried this roll round the benches; every one striving either to kiss or touch it with his palm; until he reached the platform, and delivered it to the Sheliach.

This old man, taking the scroll into his hand, rose from his seat and began his task; every one of his hearers following the text with his eye, his arms, and his very soul, as the elder, in a fierce drone, read and the interpreter rendered the sacred words; every syllable, every pause being marked. This lesson of the day was called the parascha; at its close, the elder expounded the text in a sort of sermon called the midrash, when the torah was carried back through the crowd, the women sobbing and stretching out their hands towards it; the men kissing, crying, wailing, touching it as before, until the ark was closed and the curtain drawn.

The torah being replaced in the ark by the chazzan, the prayers began; first the shema from Deuteronomy:

"Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God is one Lord. And thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy strength."

There being no priest, no doctor, no official expounder of the law present in these acts of village worship, every hearer had, in those old times, a right to express his opinion of the sacred text and of what it meant.

The views of an elder, chosen because he had made money and built a big house, might be either futile, false, or wrong. A midrash delivered by such a man might contain bad history, false quotation, weak logic; in which case any one of his hearers could start to his feet, demand the roll from the chazzan, open it again at the lesson, and preach against the sheliach; putting him to the question, forcing him to explain, confronting him with chapter and verse. On certain days of the year this right of free inquiry and exposition was always used; the debate growing warm, the commotion strong; and the prize of the contest going to the man of most fluent tongue and most easy mastery of his text.

This service of the synagogue, a practical assertion that the Jews were still a nation of priests, could not begin until the batlanim, ten men free and of full age, were in their seats; these men representing the people and having a function in the synagogue, which the prince and high priest had not. This village meeting employed no priest, allowed no slaughter of doves and rams. It was always a rival, and threatened to become a successor of that Temple