We soon found ourselves at the foot of the Giralda, which still calls to prayer, not, as in the time of the Moors, by means of its muezzin, but by twenty-four bells all duly consecrated and named――Santa Maria, San Miguel, San Cristobal, San Fernando, Santa Barbara, etc.――which, from time to time, send a whole wave of prayer over the city. It is certainly one of the finest towers in Spain, and the people of Seville are so proud of it that they call it the eighth wonder of the world, which surpasses the seven others: Tu, maravilla octava, maravillas A las pasadas siete maravillas. The Moors regarded it as so sacred that they would have destroyed it rather than have it fall into the hands of the Christians, had not Alfonso the Wise threatened them with his vengeance should they do so. Its strong foundations were partly built out of the statues of the saints, as if they wished to raise a triumphant structure on the ruins of what was sacred to Christians. The remainder is of brick, of a soft rose-tint, very pleasing to the eye. The tower rises to the height of three hundred and fifty feet, square, imposing, and so solid as to have resisted the shock of several earthquakes. Around the belfry is the inscription: NOMEN DOMINI FORTISSIMA TURRIS ――the name of the Lord is a strong tower. It is lighted by graceful arches and ascended by means of a ramp in the centre, which is so gradual that a horse could go to the very top. We found on the summit no wise old Egyptian raven, as in Prince Ahmed’s time, with one foot in the grave, but still poring, with his knowing one eye, over the cabalistic diagrams before him. No; all magic lore vanished from the land with the dark-browed Moors, and now there were only gentle doves, softly cooing in less heathenish notes, but perhaps not without their spell. On the top of the tower is a bronze statue of Santa Fé, fourteen feet high, weighing twenty-five hundred pounds, but, instead of being steadfast and immovable, as well-grounded faith should be, it turns like a weather-cock, veering with every wind like a very straw, whence the name of Giralda. Don Quixote makes his Knight of the Wood, speaking of his exploits in honor of the beautiful Casilda, say: “Once she ordered me to defy the famous giantess of Seville, called Giralda, as valiant and strong as if she were of bronze, and who, without ever moving from her place, is the most changeable and inconstant woman in the world. I went. I saw her. I conquered her. I forced her to remain motionless, as if tied, for more than a week. No wind blew but from the north.”