During the reigns of the monarchs of Gothic descent, Cordova cannot be said to have been the capital of Andalus, for although it served as a place of temporary residence for some of their kings, it was not, properly speaking, the court of the empire. By the establishment of Islam within it, its importance increased; the city became the capital of the Mohammedan empire in Spain and the stronghold of the family of Merwan,[7] the two important cities of Seville and Toledo quickly acknowledging its pre-eminence. Upon the coming of the Beni Omeyyah, its Sultans exalted Cordova above any city of Andalus, by reason of its convenient situation and delightful temperature. In course of time Cordova became, says El-Makkari, ‘the meeting-place of the learned from all countries, and owing to the power and splendour of the mighty dynasty that ruled over it, it contained more excellences than any other city on the face of the earth.’ There is a highly characteristic anecdote of the relative merits of Cordova and Seville, the refined society of the one city being devoted to literature, while that of the other was dedicated to music. ‘When a rich man dies at Seville,’ says a native writer, ‘and his heirs desire to sell his library, it is sent to Cordova for disposal; when, on the other hand, a musician dies at Cordova and his instruments are to be sold, the custom is to send them to Seville.’ A Mohammedan author of the twelfth century of our era, Al-hijárí, Abu Mohammed, wrote a description of Cordova in a volume called _Al-mishab_, ‘The Chatterer,’ in which he describes the glories of the city. ‘Cordova,’ says he, ‘was, during the reign of the Beni-Merwan, the cupola of Islam, the convocation of scholars, the court of the Sultans of the family of Omeyyah, and the residence of the most illustrious tribes of Yemen. Students from all parts of the world flocked thither at all times to learn the sciences of which Cordova was the most noble repository, and to derive knowledge from the mouths of the doctors and _ulemas_ who swarmed in it. Cordova is to Andalus what the head is to the body. Its river is one of the finest in the world, now gliding slowly through level lawns, or winding softly across emerald fields sprinkled with flowers, and serving it for robes; now flowing through thickly planted groves, where the song of birds resounds perpetually in the air, and now widening into a majestic stream to impart its waters to the numerous wheels constructed on its banks, communicating fresh vigour to the land.’