Thus fell the enfeebled and tottering monarchy of the Goths. It had long survived its glory and its prestige. The severe political maxims of its founders, suited to the frigid regions of the Baltic, had been found incompatible with the physical and moral conditions imposed by the voluptuous climate of Bætica and Lusitania. Undermined by the vices of the nobility, by the turbulent ambition of the priesthood, by the treasonable machinations of the Jews, and by the supine indifference of the masses to any fate--provided only that it involved a change of masters-- the first shock of a determined enemy swept it from the face of the earth. In its stead arose a new empire and a strange dynasty of exotic origin, foreign alike in dress, in laws, in customs, in constitution, in religion. Far from being uncongenial, the meteorological conditions of the semi-tropical Peninsula, which have insensibly determined the manners, the policy, and the fate of so many races, were eminently favorable to the highest intellectual development of its people. Through the wise and noble ambition of its rulers was established that universal culture which made Cordova the intellectual centre from whence diverged those rays of light which illumined the darkness of the mediæval world. From the genius of its statesmen, the skill of its generals, and the prowess of its armies arose that constant apprehension of impending disaster, a portentous shadow, which, hanging over Europe like the imperfectly defined outlines of a gigantic spectre, threatened for centuries the overthrow of the Seat of St. Peter, and the destruction of that system of faith which had risen upon the ruins of Pagan idolatry and superstition.