With Hischem III. finally disappeared the dynasty which had ruled, for the most part with phenomenal success and splendor, the powerful empire of Moorish Spain. In the space of two hundred and sixty-seven years, fourteen khalifs of the House of Ommeyah had guided the destinies of that empire. Of these princes, six pre-eminent in executive ability, in intellectual culture, in military genius, in political sagacity, had ascended, one after another, to the foremost rank among the great sovereigns of the earth. They had founded magnificent cities. They had erected palaces, whose crumbling ruins suggest the creations of the genii. They had collected vast libraries. Their commercial establishments were to be found among the most remote nations. The prowess of their captains had been recognized on the banks of the Rhone, on the plains of Lombardy, in the provinces of the Atlas, in the islands of the Mediterranean. Their munificence and culture had made the imperial city of the Guadalquivir a shrine of literary pilgrimage. In that city the aristocracy of intellect was even more esteemed than nobility of descent. Its possessors were the companions, the favorites, the councillors of kings. In singular contrast to the prejudices of subsequent ages, the edifices of religion were made subservient to the interests of science, and the minarets of mosques were furnished with astronomical apparatus. In the ability to erect stupendous monuments of mechanical and agricultural industry, in the perfection of hydraulic engineering, in the skilful employment of the principles of fortification, the subjects of these polished rulers were the superiors of any of the nations of antiquity. In such of the arts as were not proscribed by the doctrines of their religion, they produced models of unapproachable excellence. And, while these great advances in civilization were being made under the auspices of Islam, the European world was plunged in the darkness of barbarism and superstition. Of the great capitals of Europe, to-day the renowned seats of art and learning, London and Paris were the only ones whose population was sufficiently numerous to raise them to the dignity of cities. Within their precincts the most ordinary conveniences of life were practically unknown. The intercourse of the people was dominated by the brutal instincts of savage life; property was at the mercy of the strongest; and society was conjointly ruled by the sword of the baron and the crucifix of the monk. The vicious tendencies of the Moslem system; the participation of barbarians in a government whose mechanism they had neither the capacity to understand nor the judgment to direct; the corruption of public morals, inevitable in a state which has reached the highest degree of civilization attainable under its institutions; the gradual relaxation and final rupture of the ties of allegiance which bind the subject to the sovereign; the decrepitude of