The cathedral--one of the richest in the world--is of very ancient origin; its foundation belonging to a period far back in the history of Spain. Many are the changes which it has undergone in the revolutions of the Peninsula. When the Moors conquered the city it was turned into a mosque; when in 1085 Alphonzo V. recovered Toledo, it remained, according to the king's promise, still devoted to the religious service of the Moslem, until the Archbishop of Toledo in the following year summarily destroyed all the insignia of Saracenic worship within it, and it became again a temple of the Catholic faith. A century passed, and St. Ferdinand levelled the edifice, which he felt was tainted with an unclean spirit, to the ground. A new building was then conceived on a magnificent plan; and after two hundred years' incessant labour the present splendid edifice was completed. The general effect of its exterior, though marred by the close proximity of surrounding buildings, is exceedingly striking. Like a magnificent jewel showing its great lustre at every turn of its cutting, there is no point of view from which it cannot be seen to advantage. The cupola is a work of great taste, and the open work of the Muzarabic chapel is remarkably elegant. The stately portals, worthy of the fane to which they give admission, are of the most elaborate Gothic, and the grand _façade_, rich with ornament, is a work of inexhaustible detail and wonderful finish. The open work of the parapet is no less admirable. The three stories of the _façade_ may be said to be densely peopled with magnificent statues, and the solitary belfry tower, from which ascends an elegant spire, rising to the height of 330 feet above the gloomy and silent old streets below, is crowned by a vast tiara encircling with its iron rays the great cross surmounting the whole. The interior of the cathedral is in every way worthy of the noble aspect of the exterior. If even the idle stranger is struck with sentiments of veneration when he surveys its noble proportions--its lofty vaulted roof and its long aisles--what must be the feeling of the worshipper who comes inspired by faith to pray in such a temple? The coloured windows are works of high art, in perfect harmony with the spirit and design of this noble cathedral. While we were examining them, the organ suddenly pealed out its solemn tones, and we knew not which most to admire--the thunder-like roll which at one moment filled the building, or the silvery sweetness of the notes by which it was followed. _Sic transit gloria mundi_; and truly, in such a place as old Toledo, or in the older sepulchres of the past, in Rome or Thebes, the heart of the passing pilgrim feels the weight of ages heavy upon it. Life seems to move with a slower pace, and the reflective mind is carried back to the dim eras of remotest history.