The tower of the cathedral, is one of the boasts of Seville: it is of Moorish architecture--the work of a Moor, and is three hundred and fifty feet high. There are no steps; the summit is gained by an easy ascent, winding around an inclined plain so gradually, that the queen was driven up in a small carriage. The view from the top is superb. An almost boundless plain stretches around Seville, its centre and queen; and the Guadalquivir traverses its whole length. I counted no fewer than one hundred and twenty spires and towers, belonging to the city and the neighbouring villages and convents. The ecclesiastics of the cathedral do not enjoy a sinecure. I passed through the body of the church many times every day,--for this saved me a circuit,--and I never recollect to have seen it once without some religious ceremony going forward. There are said to be upwards of five hundred masses performed daily at the different altars; and the number of persons directly employed in, and supported by, the cathedral, exceeds six hundred. The only convent in Seville that attracted me within its walls was the Capuchin convent, famous as the depository of many of the most remarkable works of Murillo. I have already spoken of some of these pictures; but there is still something more to be gleaned. There are here twenty-five pictures of Murillo, any one of which would suffice to render a man immortal. Among these, the most remarkable are, “the Archbishop of Valencia giving alms to a kneeling Beggar;” “the Virgin, the Child, and St. Felix,” which I have already spoken of as beautifully illustrating Murillo’s power of handling the gentler emotions. “The Assumption,” “St. Bienventura and Bernardo,” “St. John, the Virgin and Child,” “St. Antonio,” and “the Annunciation.” The paintings in the hospital de la Caridad I have also mentioned as the efforts of Murillo’s ripest genius. Several of these, particularly “the Prodigal Son,” and “the Deliverance of St. Peter from Prison,” are no longer to be found there; but “John of God,” “Moses striking the Rock,” and “the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes,” have escaped the chances of war, and the dangers of covetousness.