a prolonged residence in the East seems very apt gradually to stifle the voice of nature, of honour, and of conscience.” Dismissing, with this reflection, the consideration of European society and habits in Persia, Dr Wagner turns his attention to the natives, and to an examination of the curious incidents and vicissitudes of modern Persian history, to which he allots an interesting chapter—based partly on his many conversations with British and Russian diplomatic agents, with French officers who had served in Persia, and with French and American missionaries, partly on the works of various English travellers—and then commences his wanderings and explorations in the mountains of Sahant, and along the shores of Lake Urumiah. In these and other investigations, occupying his second volume, the length to which our notice of his first has insensibly extended forbids our accompanying him, at least for the present. Judging from the great number of books relating to Western Asia that have of late years been published in this country—many of them with marked success—the number of readers who take an interest in that region must be very considerable. By such of them as read German, Dr Wagner’s series of six volumes will be prized as a mine of entertainment and information. KATIE STEWART. A TRUE STORY. PART II.—CHAPTER VIII. “Leddy Kilbrachmont! Weel, John, my man, she might have done waur—muckle waur; but I seena very weel how she could have bettered hersel. A young, wiselike, gallant-looking lad, and a very decent lairdship—anither thing frae a doited auld man.” “Weel, wife,” said John Stewart, ruefully scratching his head—“weel, I say naething against it in itsel; but will ye tell me what I’m to say to the Beelye?” “Ay, John, that will I,” returned the house-mother. “Tell him to take his daughter’s bairn out of its cradle, puir wee totum, and ask himsel what _he_ has to do wi’ a young wife—a young wife! and a bonnie lass like our Isabell! Man, John, to think, wi’ that muckle body o’ yours, that you should have sae little heart! Nae wonder ye need muckle coats and plaids about ye, you men! for ne’er a spark o’ light is in the hearts of ye, to keep ye warm within.” “Weel, weel, Isabell; the mair cause ye should gie me a guid dram to keep the chill out,” said the miller; “and ye’ll just mind ye were airt and pairt, and thought mair of the Beelye’s bien dwellin’ and braw family than ever I did; but it’s aye your way—ye put a’ the blame, when there is blame, on me.”