way to death eternal. _Eulogius_ became the leader of this
band of zealots. In lamenting the decadence of his people, he wrote,
"hardly one in a thousand can write a decent Latin letter, and yet
they indite excellent Arabic verse!" Filled with despairing ardor this
man aroused a few kindred spirits to join him in a desperate attempt
to awaken the benumbed conscience of the Christians. They could not
get the Moslems to persecute them, but they might attain martyrdom by
cursing the Prophet; then the infidels, however reluctant, would be
compelled to behead them. This they did, and one by one perished,
to no purpose. The Gothic Christians were not conscience-stricken as
Eulogius supposed they would be, and there was no general uprising for
the Christian faith.

In 912 the threatened ruin of the dynasty was arrested by the coming
of another Abd-er-Rahman, third Sultan of that name. Rebellion was put
down, and fifty years of wise and just administration gave solidity to
the kingdom, which also then became a _Khalifate_.

The Abbaside Khalifs, after the deposition of the Omeyyads, had
removed the Khalifate from Damascus to Baghdad. But the empire
had extended too far west to revolve about that distant pivot.
Abd-er-Rahman--perhaps remembering the old feud between his family
and the Abbasides--determined to assume the spiritual headship of
the western part of the empire. And thereafter, the Mahommedan
empire--like the Roman--had two heads, an Eastern Khalif at Baghdad,
and a Western Khalif at Cordova.

While thus extending his own power the Khalif was extinguishing every
spark of rebellion in the south and driving the rebellious Christians
back in the north, and at the same time he was clothing Cordova with a
splendor which amazed and dazzled even the Eastern Princes who came
to pay court to the great Khalif. His emissaries were everywhere
collecting books for his library and treasure for his palaces. Cordova
became the abode of learning, and the nursery for science, philosophy,
and art, transplanted from Asia. The imagination and the pen of
an arab poet could not have overdrawn this wonderful city on the
Guadalquivir,--with its palaces, its gardens, and fountains,--its
50,000 houses of the aristocracy,--its 700 mosques,--and 900 public
baths,--all adorned with color and carvings and tracery beautiful as a
dream of Paradise. One hears with amazement of the great mosque,
with its 19 arcades, its pavings of silver and rich mo