nding their bodies to the earth at
regular intervals and murmuring the name of Allah. They resembled a
plain, of reeds bending before the gusts of wind which precede a storm.
When all had entered and were united in solemn prayer, we returned,
passing the grand mosque. I stole up to the door, lifted the heavy carpet
that hung before it, and looked in. There was a Mevlevi Dervish standing
in the entrance, but his eyes were lifted in heavenly abstraction, and he
did not see me. The interior was brilliantly lit by white and colored
lamps, suspended from the walls and the great central dome. It was an
imposing structure, simple in form, yet grand from its dimensions. The
floor was covered with kneeling figures, and a deep voice, coming from the
other end of the mosque, was uttering pious phrases in a kind of chant. I
satisfied my curiosity quickly, and we then returned to the khan.

Yesterday afternoon I made a more thorough examination of the city.
Passing through the bazaars, I reached the Serai, or Pasha's Palace, which
stands on the site of that of the Sultans of Iconium. It is a long, wooden
building, with no pretensions to architectural beauty. Near it there is a
large and ancient mosque, with a minaret of singular elegance. It is about
120 feet high, with two hanging galleries; the whole built of blue and red
bricks, the latter projecting so as to form quaint patterns or designs.
Several ancient buildings near this mosque are surmounted with pyramidal
towers, resembling Pagodas of India. Following the long, crooked lanes
between mud buildings, we passed these curious structures and reached the
ancient wall of the city. In one of the streets lay a marble lion, badly
executed, and apparently of the time of the Lower Empire. In the wall were
inserted many similar figures, with fragments of friezes and cornices.
This is the work of the Seljook Kings, who, in building the wall, took
great pains to exhibit the fragments of the ancient city. The number of
altars they have preserved is quite remarkable. On the square towers are
sunken tablets, containing long Arabic inscriptions.

The high walls of a ruined building in the southern part of the city
attracted us, and on going thither we found it to be an ancient mosque,
standing on an eminence formed apparently of the debris of other
buildings. Part of the wall was also ancient, and in some places showed
the marks of an earthquake. A long flight of steps led up to the door of