By the payment of a trifling sum, I obtained admission and was conducted to the top of the building. It is constructed of large blocks of hammered stone, and built very strongly, as we may be sure from the fact that it has stood for seven hundred years, and is at this moment as strong as on the day it was finished. Earthquakes have repeatedly shaken the country, but the tower stands--leaning no more nor less than at first. I could not discover a crack in the walls, nor a stone out of place. The walls are double, so that there are, in fact, two towers, one inside the other, the centre inclosing a circular well, vacant from foundation to top. Between the two walls I mounted by winding stairs from story to story, till at the topmost I crept forward on my hands and knees and looked over on the leaning side. Few people have the nerve to do this; and no one is courageous enough to do more than just poke his nose over the edge. A glance downward is most appalling. An old ship-captain who accompanied me was so overcome by it that he verily believed he had left the marks of his fingers, an inch deep, in the solid stone of the cornice, by the spasmodic strength with which he clung to it! Climbing the mast-head is a different thing, for a ship’s spars are designed to be tossed about and bend before the gale. But even an old seaman is seized with affright at beholding himself on the edge of an enormous pile of building, at a giddy height in the air, and apparently hanging without any support for its ponderous mass of stones. My head swam, and I lay for some moments, incapable of motion. About a week previous, a person was precipitated from this spot and dashed to atoms, but whether he fell by accident or threw himself from the tower voluntarily, is not known. The general prospect from the summit is highly beautiful. The country, in the immediate neighborhood, is flat and verdant, abounding in the richest cultivation, and diversified with gardens and vineyards. In the north, is a chain of mountains, ruggedly picturesque in form, stretching dimly away towards Genoa. The soft blue and violet tints of these mountains contrasted with the dark green hue of the height of San Juliano, which hid the neighboring city of Lucca from my sight. In the south the spires of Leghorn and the blue waters of the Mediterranean were visible at the verge of the horizon.