144 
VIEW OF THE RUINS. 
the midst of this vale of plenty, rises an enormous mound, which, 
from its insulated situation, not a hillock of any sort being near 
it, has the effect of being artificial; but when approached, it is 
found too immense, both in breadth and height, to warrant 
such an idea, unless we were to deem it a second Babel. Towers, 
and walls of mud, wind round it; and, its summit and sides being 
covered with the rude dwellings of the peasantry, it has a very 
picturesque appearance. Its present name is Kat-Nahna; but, 
probably, in the days of polytheism,' this lonely hill may have 
maintained the ancient rites due to Mithra, or the sun ; while 
the opposite height, nearer to the mountains, elevated its rival 
altar to the fair Queen of Night. Both luminaries rise and set, 
in the same unaltered brilliancy with which they first opened 
their bright orbs on the world; but the eyes of those who raised 
these structures to their honour, deifying the creature, in blind¬ 
ness to their god, have now been closed for ages: yet the me¬ 
morial of their apostacy remains in these relics; while the sun, 
unconscious of worship, or neglect, gilds the grey stones of the 
mound with his noon-tide beams; and the moon tinges with 
silver her sunk shrine, as she passes in cloudless majesty over its 
fallen towers. Independent of these remains of departed gran¬ 
deur, and of the habitable places amongst their ruins, several 
minor villages are seen in various parts of the plain, giving an 
air of life and rural prosperity to the scene, grateful in prospect 
to the way-wearied traveller, and fully answerable, when ap¬ 
proached, to his hopes of good entertainment. Kangavar is 
about forty-five miles from Hamadan. 
September 20th.—We left our quarters this morning at four 
o’clock, crossing part of the low ground, to the south ; we then 
turned up amongst the hills; and, continuing our way on a 
