anatomy of this. Its fine ruined arches, rent and torn asunder by the dreadful earthquake before alluded to, were yet in perpendicular, although by a terrible yawn of the ground on which they stood there was a fissure in the grand dome sufficient to intimidate me from standing under it. The front arch was in tolerable preservation, well proportioned, and faced with coloured tiles, fancifully inlaid with the Arabic characters. The walls were of a prodigious thickness, having been lined with the Tabreez marble, immense blocks of which were laying about with the rubbish.

The various fragments yet standing, and masses of brick-work detached, and threatening other falls, bespoke this mosque to have been a once lofty and imposing structure; and from what my eye could compass, and my imagination fathom, by linking together the different arches and fragments alluded to, I think it would not have disgraced even Palladio himself.

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CHAPTER VIII.

A VISIT TO SULIMANIA.

On my way to Tehran I had to pass through this pretty village, having made various stages to it, some of which I will notice.

Early in the morning I was on a fine road leading to Armakaneh, a very large village, and nine hours from our last station. Here I found a splendid "menzil," or post-house for strangers, and plenty of water gushing out from its soil in all directions. This is the source of all their riches, and an abundance of corn and other produce proclaimed the extent of those riches.

On the following day I left the village, by a tremendous pass, which is sometimes considered

dangerous for travellers; the way, which was afterwards good, was strewed with flourishing villages and well watered valleys. I need scarcely say that in Persia, what we denominate roads are totally unknown. The paths which lead from station to station are established by custom, convenience, or the caprice of the traveller, where, in a semi-barbarous country, "the world is all before him where to choose." So capricious had they been in this direction, that I found it quite a series of cross roads, leading to the important town of Zenjan.

This town was walled, and contained extensive bazaars and caravanseries. I had to traverse the former; as in almost all the cities in Persia the bazaars are the high roads through them. I was an object of much curiosity with the rude natives, and must confess that I felt rather uncomfortable at their searching gaze, having only servants with me, and the people so unaccustomed to see a Ferengee stranger.

Resting that night at the caravansery, I was impatient to escape, as it were, from the rough lodging of a Persian khan, and summoning my followers, I issued from the gate at an early hour. We were well armed, an indispensable precaution

when travelling through this wild country; the being unarmed is an invitation to attack.

I could now again breathe freely on the extensive plains of Sultaniah. It was studded with ruined villages. The first which I arrived at was without a single inhabitant; and some others had only small groups of half clad peasantry, looking the very personification of misery. The dome of the tomb of Ismael Khouda Benda is to be seen from hence at a great distance, so much so that I fancied I should never reach it.

This imposing structure has very little of its original magnificence remaining. The cupola rests on an octangular base, and is about a hundred feet high. The gates are all down; but over them were galleries, leading from the inner to the outer part of the building. The interior is in good keeping, having here and there some beautiful Arabic inscriptions in gilded characters. But the saint's rest is wofully desecrated by all comers. We breakfasted in one of the niches or chapels, aud the horses in another.

On this plain stood formerly the capital of Persia, and the residence of its kings, until the time of Abbas the Great, who made Ispahan the capital of

his empire. In the time of Chardin, Sultaniah was still a city, and surrounded with walls, but now nothing can be more desolate than this waste; the only exception is the modern building of a summer residence for the late Shah, which I visited.

The Shah generally formed a camp in the summer season. The extensive pasturage would feed an army of horses. The way to Khoramdereh was through a flat uninteresting country, poorly watered, and inhabited by the wild Eleaut tribes, in their black tents; they are seemingly perfectly inoffensive. These nomades desert their villages in the summer, and follow the pasturage with their flocks. The soil seems to belong to the first comers, and the inhabitants are so few as compared with the extensive territory of Persia, that all can be fed at small expense of labour.

Koramdereh, or "the happy valley," is a large village, embowered in its own woods, and watered by a copious stream. It has a very interesting effect from the neighbouring hills. Proceeding on to Kerishkeen, some villages intersect the spacious plain which leads to it, as the river takes its course; and again the road was deemed inse