It will be seen, by the style of the Gothic lettering, that the inscription was cut in the last decade of the fifteenth century. Whether the count of Tendilla dug the well or only constructed the cistern remains a disputable point; it is not important; but what is by no means clear is the strange statement that the keys were surrendered by “Muley Hasen.” Upon the capture of Boabdil[7] at Lucena by the Count of Cabra, he was conducted to Córdova, where he was received with much honour by Ferdinand, after the manner, in modern times, of the reception of Schamyl at the Court of St. Petersburg. Thereafter, Boabdil became the instrument of the Christians, and was allowed to return to Granada, where such confusion reigned at this time, that there were always two, and sometimes three kings in the Moorish capital of Andalusia. The antagonism of old Muley Hasen, his son Boabdil, and the brother of Muley, Ez-Zaghal, “the Valiant,” all posing as kings at one time, probably hastened the overthrow of the Moorish power. There is much uncertainty respecting the date of Muley Hasen’s death. Some authorities state that when he was dethroned by his son Boabdil, “he retired to Malaga.” Others say that the king could not survive the misfortunes that his son’s rebellion brought upon the kingdom, and “becoming blind and mad, soon afterwards died.” One account gives his death as occurring in September, 1484, without, however, adducing evidence in support. Is it not just possible then, that when Malaga fell, the old king was discovered and rode in Ferdinand’s train, to deliver the keys of Granada, as so plainly set forth in the Gothic inscription of the Count of Tendilla? The circumstances which attended the growth of the Spanish nation, and the expulsion of the Moor, were necessarily productive of an over-zealous spirit--a spirit which is ever the inevitable consequence of subjugation in the name of heaven, and under the immediate influence of religious feeling. How, then, could it fail to manifest itself in the Spaniards, who, only by a war lasting seven centuries, recovered their own country from the hands of the Moslem--the bitterest foes of the Christian religion--usurpers who justified their violence by retorting the opprobrious epithet “Infidels” upon the natives? A contest, so fierce and abiding, must have inseparably connected, in the minds of the Spaniards, every idea of honour with orthodoxy, and all that is discreditable and odious, with dissent from their creed. Small wonder, then, need be expressed that the degradation of the Alhambra dates from the very day of the Castilian Conquest, on which the removal of Moslem symbols commenced. Have we not seen the same principles rampant in England at the time of the Reformation, and again, throughout Puritan times; although, in our own case, the unreasonable iconoclasts professed the same faith?