gradually the individual whom he cherished beyond all others; time was allowed him by Providence for escape, yet he stood still, as if spellbound, and suffered the victim to be seized without a struggle. His wife, whose condition I have alluded to above, affected at once by the fever, and apprehensive of its consequences, was terrified into premature labour, and a son dead-born considerably before its time put the finishing stroke, as it were, to the affliction of her mind. Her fever increased in violence—medical aid was vain—death triumphed—and Maani sunk into the grave at the age of twenty-three.
A total change now came over the mind of Della Valle, which not only affected the actions of his life, but communicated itself to his writings, depriving them of that dashing quixotism which up to this point constitutes their greatest charm. A cloud, black as Erebus, descended upon his soul, and nine months elapsed before he could again command sufficient spirits or energy to announce the melancholy event to his friend Schipano. He, however, resolved that the body of his beloved wife should not be consigned to the earth in Persia, where he should never more come to visit or shed a tear over her grave. He therefore contrived to have it embalmed, and then, enclosing it in a coffin adapted to the purpose, placed it in a travelling trunk, in order that, wherever his good or bad fortune should conduct him, the dear remains of his Maani might accompany him to the grave. Certain circumstances attending this transaction strongly serve to illustrate the character of Della Valle, and while they tell in favour of his affection, and paint the melancholy condition to which his bereavement had reduced him, likewise throw some light upon the manners and state of the country. Dead bodies being regarded as unclean by the Mohammedans, as they were in old Greece and Rome, and most other
