Intellectually Spain sleeps on, dreams on, receiving no impressions from the rest of the world and making none upon it. "There she lies," says the historian, "at the further extremity of the continent, a huge and torpid mass, the sole representation now remaining of the feelings and knowledge of the middle ages. And what is the worst symptom of all, she is satisfied with her own condition. Though she is the most backward country in Europe, she believes herself foremost. She is proud of everything of which she should be ashamed. She is proud of the antiquity of her opinions; proud of her orthodoxy; proud of the strength of her faith; proud of her immeasurable and childish credulity; proud of her unwillingness to amend either her creed or her customs; proud of her hatred of heretics, and proud of the undying vigilance with which she has baffled their efforts to obtain a full and legal establishment on her soil." But since Buckle penned these forcible lines, she has made a change. She has recalled the Jews, some five years ago, after 400 years of banishment. Her eyes have been opened at last, and she now seeks to repair her wrongs to the people she afflicted most. And prosperity will follow the re-entrance of the Jews. Spain will again be blest; it may take time, church tyranny will first have to be crushed and ignorance and superstition rooted out, but crushed and rooted out they will be. Her harbors on the Atlantic and Mediterranean will again command the commerce of both hemispheres. Her cities will again teem with people. Her towns will again flourish, her manufactures will again be skillful, the produce of her exuberant soil will again gladden the heart of mankind. Her inexhaustible mines, rich in all the precious and all the useful metals, her quarries of marbles and her beds of coal will again set the wheel of industry into busy motion. She will be blest again. She must be blest again, for such is the word of God. She has held out the hand of friendship to His anointed people, and they that bless them will be blest. The Moors, Spain no more can recall. The Arab-Moors, such as they were in Spain, exist no longer. Their descendants roam as benighted Bedouins over those regions of Africa which their ancestors once illumined by the light of learning. Gone is most of their literature. The beautiful accents of the classic Arabic tongue are heard no more. Darkness, deep darkness, rules over the Arabian peninsula now. The history that their sires in Spain have made our civilization their debtor, reads indeed, to-day, like unto a fairy tale.