The racial and religious antagonism, in which the Jew found himself engaged from his earliest contact with the nations, widened the gulf. The grievous persecution to which he found himself periodically exposed since his advent in Europe further embittered his soul, and sore experience taught him that peace could only be purchased by gold. He had nothing but avarice to oppose to the fanaticism of those under whom he lived, and he strove to raise a wall of gold between himself and tyranny. He took shelter behind his shekels, and, naturally, endeavoured by all means, fair or foul, to make that shelter as effective as he could. Even supposing that the Jew omitted no opportunity of fleecing the Gentile, he was more than justified in doing so--he was compelled by the Gentile’s own treatment of him. It was the Gentile who taught the Jew the supreme virtue of money as a preservative against oppression, exile, and death; and he had no right to complain of the disciple’s wonderful quickness in learning his lesson and “bettering the instruction.” His hatred of the Gentile, thus combined with love of gain and love of life, rendered him impervious to compassion. The Gentile merited little mercy at the hands of the Jew, and he got no more than he merited. The exploitation of the Gentile, begun as a necessity and promoted as a means of self-defence, thus found an abiding place among the lower orders of the mediaeval Jews. Besides, in the Middle Ages borrowing for commercial purposes was rare. As a rule, a loan was resorted to only on an emergency, and the interest was determined by the necessity of the borrower. Under the circumstances exorbitant rates were unavoidable. The discouragement of money-lending, coupled with the scarcity of capital, by limiting competition, would in any case have tended to raise the normal rate of interest to a distressing height,[64] in obedience to the law of demand and supply which now is one of the commonplaces of political economy. The uncertainty of recovery raised it to a greater height still. Like the Christian bankers in the Turkey of not long ago, the Jewish money-lenders of the Middle Ages must have lent their money at considerable risk, sometimes amounting to certainty of loss. The mediaeval baron, far more than the mediaeval burgess, was largely beholden to the Jew both in peace and in war. The pomp and pride of chivalry could not be maintained without money. For the pageant of a tournament, as for the more costly splendour of a campaign, the usurer’s purse was appealed to. But, if the baron found himself obliged to coax and flatter the Jew and to submit to exorbitant terms when he wanted a loan, he revenged himself when he had the Jew in his power. Such opportunities were not rare, and then the borrower repayed himself with interest. The conditions of the transaction were such as to tempt avarice, but not to encourage moderation. A loan to a mediaeval pasha