showers, but the southwest monsoon is not fully established before the latter part of May. In June the great rains set in, and in July the heated term commences, attaining an intensity fully equal to that of Canton.

The Bohea country, in Fo-kien, differs but little from the green tea districts in general temperature, though the tea men seem to think the cold not quite so severe, and the thickness of snow-fall and of ice somewhat less. This amelioration is ascribed to the local configuration of the country; the mountains forming the boundary between the provinces of Che-kiang and Kiang-si shelter the eastern valleys and their eastern slopes from the cold winds of the northeast and northwest. December and January are the coldest months. The Kien-kio-kee, a shallow stream winding about the Bohea Mountains, is annually frozen over, and vagrants here pick a precarious alms from travelers by scattering the paddy husks on the ice to prevent slipping.

The mid-day temperature in summer is equal to that of Canton, but the mornings and evenings are much cooler. Father Carssina states that the heavy snows in Fo-kien, falling in 1815 to the depth of from 33 to 49 inches, and attended by extreme cold, did no injury to the tea plant, and did not even retard the harvest.

At Amoy, the head of the coast tea district, in latitude 24° 27′ 36′′, where a large amount of tea is produced, especially for exportation, including some of the more delicately flavored brands, the temperature seems scarcely to vary from that of Canton. Accounts from other portions of the tea zone indicate the prevalence of severe frost and occasional snow at intervals up to the vernal equinox. From the foregoing it will be seen that the tea tree is exposed to wide extremes of temperarure and to sudden and violent changes. It grows on the coast and in the interior to the western part of the empire, passing over to Assam. If a plant is indigenous under all such circumstances, it must possess elements of hardy growth and capacity for a much wider range of cultivation than it has yet enjoyed.

It may be affected by local influences in flavor, quality, copiousness and size, as it is in its indigenous habitat; but its general success in many regions where it is yet unknown may be fairly assumed.

It is less injured by extreme cold than benefited by high temperature. In any locality, with a suitable composition of soil, combining a mean temperature of from 64° to 77° F., increasing after the vernal equinox to the summer solstice, with copious rains, which alternate with bright sunny days, tea culture would probably be a success. The moisture is necessary to the rapid and copious production of leaves, and the sunshine to the elaboration of those peculiar vegetable principles which give to the tea plant its intrinsic as well as its commercial value.

The tea plant in China is mostly propagated from the seed. Old trees, however, are sometimes cut down and their roots are permitted to remain in the ground to throw up fresh scions and leaves, which, about the third year, may be profitably used in the manufacture of tea. Sometimes the old root, if transplanted to a fresh soil, will send forth fresh rootlets and produce a renewed foliage.

In seed propagation the seed must be gathered in the month of Han Lee, corresponding to our October, dried in the sun, and packed away in baskets of moistened sand. The seminal principle exhibits a remarkable sluggishness, requiring a considerable period of fermentation to awaken its vitality prior to placing the seeds in the ground. If this packing process is omitted, a great many seed will fail to germinate.

Mais il ne s'agit plus de l'auditoire; il s'agit du professeur. Le sujet devient sérieux; ce n'est plus l'étranger, c'est moi-même qui parlerai. M. Michelet doit avoir cinquante-six ans environ; il est petit et maigre. Quand on le voit pour la première fois, avec sa tête couverte de grands cheveux presque blancs, sa figure longue et fine, ses yeux noirs et pénétrants, sa bouche sarcastique et rentrée, on est frappé de l'expression à la fois sceptique, honnête et fébrilement animée de sa figure. Il semble un homme de la Convention, un représentant du XVIIIe siècle, qui, venu à travers la Révolution, en a été affecté et comme dérangé dans sa pensée.

Beaucoup de gens croient que M. Michelet est éloquent dans le sens large et puissant de ce mot, qu'il s'échauffe, qu'il abonde, qu'il écume comme un torrent et qu'il entraîne tout dans les eaux gonflées de sa parole. C'est une erreur. M. Michelet n'est point orateur; il cause, il parle, sans se gêner, à ses huit cents auditeurs, comme il ferait dans son cabinet avec deux amis.

Arrivé à son bureau, qui ne laisse apparaître que sa tête et le haut de sa poitrine, les bras pendants sous la table, il s'agite et se balance; il commence d'un ton saccadé, en style haché, en phrases de six mots, Quand il a dit une chose qu'il croit juste, il la répète deux et trois fois : c'est là un de ses grands moyens; et il en use d'autant plus que son auditoire ne lui en conteste jamais la valeur et l'applaudit sur parole. De temps en temps il frappe d'une de ses mains sur son bureau; c'est encore une de ses forces: un coup sur la table vaut un argument. D'ailleurs, assez difficile à suivre, parce qu'il avale souvent ses paroles; les effets qu'il produit, c'est par la manière de donner le coup de langue. Il a réellement ce qu'on appelle dans le monde de l'esprit, et quand il mord sa lèvre inférieure avec une expression toute particulière, après avoir lancé un trait et qu'il semble le regarder s'envoler; quand il secoue sa tête, en ayant l'air de dire : « C'est bien profond! » ce public jeune et facile, dont les instincts sont hardiment flattés, tressaille d'aise d'apprendre un mot piquant qui rend facilement une pensée vulgaire, et applaudit à grands éclats un homme qui a su si bien le comprendre. Voilà l'extérieur de l'homme. Voici maintenant le professeur.

Ce qui frappe tout d'abord, c'est qu'il n'a rien de déterminé dans son plan. Il part, il va causer; avant d'arriver il s'est recueilli, il a trouvé quelques traits plaisants, il a vu sourire son auditoire, il a souri luimême, et il s'est dit : « J'enchâsserai cela dans ma leçon!» Il est poussé par une double préoccupation : l'application de petites causes à de grands événements, de particularités aux faits généraux, et c'est un trait de sa personnalité, il est naturellement et sans effort de l'école de Voltaire;

The seedling plants are transplanted in time to receive the benefit of the warm showers in their new soil in the spring change of monsoons. They are planted in rows about four feet apart. Their thick growth gives them a hedge-like appearance. The premature plucking of the leaves having been found very prejudicial to the health and vigor of the plants, they are allowed at least three years of exemption after transplanting. This enables the shoots and foliage to grow up very strong and thrifty. Even in full bearing the weaker plants are spared a full denudation of their leaves.

The tea plant begins to flower in the south generally about October, the period of efflorescence continuing till March. The early leaf buds in the spring, being covered with white silky down, are gathered to make the tea called Pekoe, a corruption of the Canton word Pa-ko, white down. This first gathering of Pekoe tea commences 15 days after the vernal equinox.

There is no fixed rule, however, regulating this matter. It should be timed so that the flow of sap, caused by the genial rain and sunshine, will best enable the depleted plant to bear the drain upon its vital functions caused by the gathering. This will be just when the vegetative process exhibits its greatest energy. A few days later growth produces what is termed the black-leaved Pekoe. The more fleshy matured leaves, subsequently gathered, furnish the Souchong; the larger and coarser ones, still later, supply the Congou. The last picking is called the Bohea. The period of gathering embraces intervals of ten days each, commencing a fortnight after the vernal equinox, and continuing up to the summer solstice. There is also an autumnal gathering, but of inferior value.

The first gathering is thick, consisting of the convoluted leaf bud, frag rant and of delicious flavor. It lasts from the 5th to the 20th of April. The first gathering of the expanded leaf commences about the last week of April. The subsequent gatherings take place early in June, and just after the summer solstice. The younger leaves are selected. If permittted to attain their full growth they become harsh, fibrous, and brittle. The finest teas are made exclusively from the first gathering. The process of gathering is one of great nicety and importance. Each leaf is plucked separate, the hands of the gatherer being kept scrupulously clean. In collecting some of the finer sorts, it is stated on good authority, that the gatherer is required to abstain for some weeks previously from gross food lest his breath or perspiration should, in some way, injure the flavor of the leaves. He is required to wear fine gloves while at work, and to bathe regularly two or three times a day.

As before stated, the distinction between black and green teas does not depend upon the organic constitution of the plant, but upon the process of drying. In the case of green teas, this is substantially as follows: When the leaves are gathered they are spread out thinly on flat bamboo trays in order to dry off any superfluous moisture; after remaining an hour or two thus exposed they are thrown by handfuls into roasting pans over a brisk wood fire, and rapidly moved about and shaken up with both hands. They are immediately affected by the heat, giving out a crackling sound and become quite moist and flaccid, discharging a considerable watery vapor.

After being subjected to this process four or five times they are drawn out quickly and placed on the rolling table.

Several inen at the table divide the leaves among them, each gathering as many as he can hold together in a ball. This is pressed together and rolled on a rattan table in such a manner as to expel a portion of

the sap and moisture, and at the same time to give the leaves a peculiar twist.

They are then shaken out upon flat trays for a short time, and then replaced in roasting pans over a slow coal fire, being all the time kept in rapid motion with the hand.

Sometimes they are rolled a second time upon the rattan table. In about an hour and a half they are well dried and their green color so fixed that they are in no danger of turning black. Their dull green now becomes brighter. The leaves are then winnowed and separated, according to quality, into different sorts, viz., Twankay, Hyson Skin, Hyson, Young Hyson, Gunpowder, &c. During this selection the leaves are re-fired, the coarser ones once and the finer ones oftener.

By this time the color has come out quite strongly, the finer kind exhibiting a dull bluish-green.

Teas intended for exportation are then subjected to a process of coloring, the account of which will certainly not heighten the relish of European and American consumers for high-colored green teas. The coloring matter consists of three parts of Prussian blue, finely pulverized, and thoroughly mixed with four parts of calcined gypsum. This delectable condiment is applied to the teas during the final process of roasting, and the whole mass rapidly manipulated. The Chinese never use this high-colored tea, and apply the pigment only to meet the whimsical demand of the foreign markets, growing out of singular ignorance of the facts of tea production. The coloring amounts to about half a pound in every hundred.

In the preparation of black tea the leaves, after gathering, are not immediately subjected to the drying operation, but are allowed to lie for a considerable time on the bamboo trays, sometimes till the morning after the gathering. They are then gathered into balls, pressed together, and then separated and thrown up into the air. This is continued until the leaves become soft and flaccid; they are then thrown into heaps, and allowed to lie for about an hour.

By this time the leaves are found to have slightly changed color, and to have become moist and flaccid, emitting an agreeable fragrance. They are then roasted, as in the case of green tea, for five minutes, and rolled upon the rattan table, after which they are spread out thinly upon sieves and exposed to the air upon an elevated bamboo framework. In this condition they remain for about three hours, being frequently stirred and turned. A fine, bright day is especially desirable for this part of the process, after which they are again roasted for a few minutes, and again rolled. The final desiccating process is as follows: A tubular basket, open at both ends and contracted in the middle, is placed over a small charcoal stove. Its narrowed section is intersected by wires, upon which a sieve is placed, covered with tea leaves to the depth of an inch. After five minutes' drying in this position, the sieve is removed and resupplied with leaves. After this drying process they are again rolled, and this alternate drying and rolling is sometimes repeated as often as four times.

The black color is now finely brought out and continues to improve. The final operations, sifting, picking, refining, and sorting, then follow. In comparing the respective processes of preparing the leaves for green or black tea, it will appear, first, that, in making green tea, the leaves are roasted as soon as possible after gathering; whereas, in the preparation of black tea, they are allowed to remain for some time in heaps in their moist state. During this time they undergo a fermentation, which is assisted by being tossed and manipulated prior to roast

ing. This roasting is then interrupted, and the leaves exposed to another period of fermentation. By this fermentation some of the organic principles of the tea plant are decomposed by the presence of atmospheric oxygen and changed into an oxidized extractive matter, which sinks to the bottom of the tea-cup upon infusion. The presence of these vegetable principles, unchanged in the green tea, is alleged as a cause of its different effects upon the nervous system, and of the greater amount of nervous excitability in green-tea drinkers. After a careful assortment of the different grades of teas by sifting, each one is packed in chests or boxes, and carried to market, in quantities varying according to the size and productiveness of the plantation. These mar kets are held at regular periods, as, for example, at Ly Yuen there is a tea market every tenth day of the season, to wit, on the 2d, 12th, and 22d days of one month, and on the 7th, 17th, and 27th days of the month following. The teas collected at these country markets are sent to the village of Sing-Csun, where the hong merchants and tea factors of Canton have large establishments for packing teas for foreign exportation. Here also the Shan-Se merchants and factors procure their teas for the overland trade with Russia. The statements that the better class of teas, either green or black, can be obtained in any local market except the above-mentioned one of Sing-Csun or in the hyson market of Moo-yen and Yun-ning, are emphatically denied by Ball, in his account of the culture and manufacture of tea. A small amount of tea may be obtained in the remote districts, but the chests in which it is packed are of darker color and lack the peculiar style of the markets.

After being packed in chests, the tea is sent to markets in chops or breaks of about 600 chests, each of which contains about 80 pounds of tea. Each chop is divided into two packings of about 300 chests. The teas which are to constitute one uniform quality of 600 chests consist of certain proportions of the three different gatherings of the season, collected from the various farms and localities around, a careful record of each being kept in every farm of each gathering, and these are carefully mixed in one uniform quality. They are packed by men in their bare feet, and must be perfectly dry, or fermentation will take place. In all these stages of tea culture and preparation the Chinese display that careful attention to details and that patient intelligence which have ever characterized the industry of this singular people.

The teas of China, as prepared for exportation, are thus enumerated in Williams's Chinese Commercial Guide. The Congou, a corruption of King-hu, in Amoy dialect, signifying laborer's tea, or tea upon which labor has been bestowed. There are eight varieties of this tea manufactured to supply the foreign demand, each presenting an almost endless diversity of minor differences of quality. The finest kinds are produced in the province of Hupeh, and are divided into three classes, of which the best is the Yang-lin-lung, or Willow Valley; next in quality is the Yang-lin-szi, or Willow Township, and lastly the inferior Hich-kiashi, or Hich family market tea. The Congou from Hupeh is easily distinguished by a large leaf, black, and sometimes purple in color, with a rich deep red infusion and a mellow soft flavor. From its delicate constitution it cannot bear much firing without losing its fragrance, hence it requires careful handling to prevent its becoming musty. The Congou from Honan province has a grayish black color, not strong, and of a flavor somewhat resembling tar, which the Chinese ascribe to the pine wood used for firing. There are three classes of this tea. The Moning Congou