The sacristies are overflowing with treasures; they are literally crammed full of monstrances glittering with precious stones, silver reliquaries of enormous weight and incredible workmanship, and as large as small cathedrals, candlesticks, gold crucifixes, and copes embroidered with pearls, the whole forming a collection that is more than royal, and altogether Asiatic. As we were on the point of leaving the building, the beadle, who had served as our guide, led us mysteriously into a remote obscure corner, and pointed out, as an object of the greatest possible curiosity, a crucifix, which is said to have been carved by a Christian prisoner, with his nail, on a porphyry column, to the foot of which he was chained. To prove the authenticity of the story, he showed us the statue of the poor captive some few paces off. Without being more Voltairean than is necessary in the matter of legends, I can not help thinking that people must formerly have had very hard nails, or that porphyry was extremely soft. Nor is this crucifix the only one of its kind; there is a second, on another column, but it is far from being so well formed. The beadle likewise showed us an enormous ivory tusk, suspended from the middle of the cupola by iron chains, and looking like the hunting-horn of some Saracenic giant of some Nimrod of the world that has disappeared: this tusk is said to have belonged to one of the elephants employed in carrying the materials during the building of the mosque. Being well satisfied with our guide's explanations and complaisance, we gave him one or two small coins, a piece of generosity which appeared to be highly displeasing to Jose Maria's old friend, who had accompanied us, and elicited from him the following slightly heretical remark:--"Would it not be better to give that money to some brave bandit, than to a villanous sexton?" On leaving the cathedral, we stopped for a few moments before a pleasing Gothic portal, which serves as a façade to the Foundling Hospital. Anywhere else it would be admired, but, in its present position, it is crushed by its formidable neighbour. After we had visited the cathedral, there was nothing more to keep us at Cordova, which is not the liveliest place in the world to stop at. The only amusement a stranger can take, is to bathe in the Guadalquiver, or get shaved in one of the numerous shaving-shops near the mosque; the operation is very dexterously performed, with the aid of an enormous razor, by a little barber perched upon the back of the large oaken arm-chair in which the customer is seated. [Illustration: MOORISH MILLS, CORDOVA.]