The shade and coolness, the noise of flowing water, and the huge tank with the geese on it (and a swimming goose in a large piece of water is a decidedly handsome bird, _when you have no swans_), rendered this place a favourite one to drink tea and smoke pipes in. The Naib-ul-ayālut, the second son of the Imād-u-dowlet, was a man who devoted much attention to astrology and the pursuit of the philosopher’s stone. He entertained us one day with tea at the statue, and gave us an impromptu exhibition of fireworks; and as they were discharged from the edge of the tank, it acted like a mirror, and the effect was good in the extreme. Astrology is at a premium in Persia; the monajem, or astrologers, are consulted on almost every subject. Each village has its diviner, and each big town supports several, the head of whom boasts the sounding title of “monajem-bashi” (chief astrologer). Their great occupation is to predict fortunate hours, days, etc. They will fix on a day for a great man to start on a journey or arrive at a place, and the man will be careful to follow the astrologer’s direction, for they have a great belief in bad and good luck. The rules by which the astrologers make their calculations are very complicated; strange to say, there are many of them who really believe in their own profession. Each has his astrolabe of brass or silver; some of the brass ones are very large and handsome: I have known as much as one thousand kerans paid for a good one. They are manufactured in the country. The king’s astrologer is a very great man indeed, and no important act is undertaken without consulting him. Often the astrologer goes further than his own special business of “ruling the planets,” and by means of rolling six dice, which revolve on a rod run through the centre of them, he pretends to read the future—in fact, he is a fortune-teller. Many, too, are rammals, or discoverers of stolen property. This is often ingeniously done, after a good deal of hocus pocus, by working on the fears of the thieves. The old, old plans are adopted: sticks are given to the suspected, and they are told they will grow if they are guilty; the conscience-stricken breaks a piece off. Or they are told to dip their hands into a pot placed in a dark room; this is full of dye stuff; the guilty man does not dip his hand, and is so detected. Or, more frequently, all the suspects are sworn to innocence in the name of some local saint, and are informed that the vengeance of the saint will fall on the guilty man if the property is not returned; in the morning it often mysteriously reappears. These men, then, are of use, and by their means property may often be recovered that would otherwise never be traced.