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albeit since then the ill effects have been softened, and the advantages developed. Several Irish towns, for instance, once noted for this business, were compelled to abandon it as unprofitable; and even the once famous Limerick gloves would scarcely be known even by reputation at the present day, had they not been specially distinguished by Miss Edgeworth's pen. It may be worth while to notice that they were made of 'morts' or 'slinks'-namely, the skins of very young lambs, calves, or kids, collected by a class of higglers who traversed the country for the purpose. Delicacy of texture formed their chief claim to distinction, and a pair of first-rate quality could be enclosed in a walnutshell, which acted as a sort of test. Unlike every other kind of glove, they were smooth inside, and were not the less in request that they were considered to impart fresh softness and beauty to the hand of the wearer. Of the English districts formerly associated with the glover's art, many have also disappeared from view. Ludlow, that once employed 1000 persons, required, in 1832, only the services of half-a-dozen-a state of things synonymous with the extinction of the trade. Leominster and Hereford, which had likewise had a profitable sale for beaver as well as leather gloves, found themselves in much the same plight. York, formerly remarkable for an excellent glove called 'York tans,' and for very fine specimens of the Limerick, was compelled to give up the manufacture of native skins, which in all these places had been the material dealt in, to the great benefit of the agriculturist.

The districts which have kept their ground up to the present day are therefore those of Worcester, Woodstock, Yeovil, and Torrington. The two last, districts of Somersetshire and Devonshire, though taking somewhat lower rank as dealing largely in second-class and inferior orders of gloves, are by far the most active and important. They would employ, perhaps, 15,000 or 16,000 female sewers, where the more exclusive rival towns could give occupation to only 5000 or 6000. The reason probably is, that the quality of their productions does not, by coming into competition with the best French goods, demand the expensive importation of rare material from the continent, but admits the cutting up of native skins, and of the foreign ones most easily attainable. Thus, a very large proportion of the gloves called kid, and worn under the fond delusion that they are such, are in reality lamb or even calf skin, since large quantities of the latter are shipped annually at the Prussian port of Memel, on the Baltic, to be employed in this business. The first-class quality of English gloves, which frequently equal in appearance, and generally surpass in durability, all others, are made in and about Worcester, where the work is known to have been carried on for more than three centuries. Here the great London firms, whose names serve as a sort of stamp on their wares, have their manufactories; and these afford employment to the inhabitants of the surrounding villages, and furnish the warerooms of the dingy head-quarters in Wood Street, Cheapside, whence the commodity is dispersed abroad. The number of master manufacturers in Worcester was formerly 140, but is now under ten. The concentrative spirit of trade at the present day may have something to do with this change, for it must be acknowledged that those few who remain continue their operations upon a scale which would have excited the amazement and consternation of their forefathers; however, they still retain their original dislike to the change of law which enabled the Frenchman, using his own skins, to compete advantageously with those who were obliged to obtain their material from Italy and the south of France.

The preliminary process of dressing the leather has the same features both here and abroad; but there are two different methods pursued, according to the nature

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of the result desired. In the one case it is 'manufactured,' as the term goes, by the repeated application of cod-oil, alternating with a system of beating in fullingmills, and drying by exposure to the air. About ten repetitions saturate the skins sufficiently; they then remain in tubs till natural fermentation ensues, when they are washed in a strong alkali, and finally display a softness and elasticity which they were far from presenting before. This oil-leather, made from sheep and lamb skins, is cut up at Woodstock in large quantities, for the riding-gloves of which that neighbourhood has the monopoly. It is likewise used for military gloves, made at Hexham; and varieties of it constitute the material of the soft thick kinds, still popular among gentlemen of the country school, though less universally worn than in the days when the sine quâ non of the dandy was uniformity between his gloves, boot-tops, and certain other articles of dress which have since been superseded. The other system of leather-dressing applies to kid-gloves, and all that answer to the name, and is carried on in this wise: the skin, having been first softened in lime-water, has to be frequently washed and worked in pure water, and afterwards in fermented bran liquor. By means of yolks of eggs, flour, alum, and salt, it is made into soft plump' leather, then dried, worked over a round blunt knife, and plunged a second time into a bath of eggs: about six millions are used each year for this purpose in France and England.

These different branches of the operation generally extend over the space of a month; at the end of that time the leather would be fit to receive the beautiful dyes which are brushed into the upper surface. It would then pass into another department, where the superfluous 'flesh' is taken off, or, to avoid technical language, where it is planed until it becomes uniform in thickness and elasticity. The various processes connected with the cutting, sewing, and finishing of the gloves then follow in due course; but each pair passes through so many different hands, that it will scarcely be dismissed before the expiration of eight weeks, exclusive of the time spent in preparing the leather. The chamoiseurs, or dressers, of Annonay, a French town about fifty miles south of Lyon, are considered the most skilled workmen in this particular business. Four millions of skins are sent there annually from different parts of the world to be manufactured, and the fame of the place neutralised one clause at anyrate of the old proverb: 'For a glove to be good, Spain must dress the leather, France cut it, and England sew it.' Our own country has, nevertheless, its vantage-ground; for those very peculiarities of water and climate in France which are so well adapted to the dressing of kid-skins, apply very disadvantageously to those of lambs, which require a temperate atmosphere, and other advantages that England can best afford. Thus, it is not unusual to see collected at Yeovil, skins from Austria, Spain, Turkey, Denmark, Bordeaux, Buenos Ayres, and the Cape of Good Hope, which had been sent there to pass through the hands of the dresser.

Our facilities in this department render the English lamb-skin glove superior to the French specimens of the same class, and it is the large demand for them which conduces to the present prosperity of Yeovil, Milborne-Port, and the neighbourhood within a circle of twenty miles. About L.1500 is paid each week in wages, skilful workmen earning from twenty to thirty shillings. The value of female labour is more difficult to compute, from the fact of their always taking the work home, and in many cases devoting to it only the hours which can be conveniently spared from their domestic employments. Hence about double the number are engaged in the occupation than would be required if their whole time were given up to it. Where this is the case, young girls earn from

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five shillings to seven and sixpence a week. sewing of gloves is now carried on both here and abroad with the aid of a small machine, first used at Stoke, a town in the Yeovil district, and patented by the inventor many years ago. It is a sort of vice which grasps the gloves, leaving only the extreme edge exposed. Regularity in the stitches is thus insured, and the object of the apparatus answered, as it was intended merely to facilitate, not to economise, manual labour. The admission of French goods into our market, which we have already alluded to, is considered by the Somersetshire manufacturer to have proved rather an advantage than otherwise; inasmuch as the emulation consequent upon it has improved the quality of the article, whilst the extent of the importation-amounting, in 1855, to 260,000 dozens-proves that it does not affect the patronage of English trade in any very great degree. The chief provincial seats of the glove-making art in France are Grenoble, Montpellier, and Niort. The varieties of material disguised under the name of kid are probably about as numerous there as here. A report has recently circulated, that owing to the large demand for rat-skins on the other side of the Channel, the denizens of the Parisian sewers were at a premium. If this be true, which we by no means undertake to assert, it is evident that the art of glove-making may still be called, as in olden times, a 'mystery,' and that the fashioning of 'naughtie and deceitful gloves' was not, as intended, put an end to by the charter.

THE ARGONAUTS IN ENGLAND. Ir is very pleasant, in this matter-of-fact, moneymaking world of ours, to meet with a little genuine enthusiasm now and then-an enthusiasm that does not vent itself in vain talk and effervescent eloquence, of which no doubt there are plenty of specimens to be had-but one that has a definite aim in view, which works on nobly and courageously in the cause it has undertaken, and, strangest of all, has no personal gain connected with it.

Some little time ago, fashionable London, ever craving for novelty, was roused from its regular routine of pleasure by a new source of excitement in the musical world. Who that has ever heard those unequalled Cologne singers, can forget the wonderful sensation that seemed to thrill through every nerve, when that first mighty swell of human voices in unison, unaccompanied by any instruments, rose with a giant power, and resolved itself in that exquisitely perfect chord of the Lenzfrage, or that wild free spirit which seems to breathe in every note of the glorious Normanns Sang, stirring every latent energy, and rousing all the nobler parts of our nature? No orchestra in the world can produce such an effect. It is a feeling, novel as it is exciting; you are carried away by this tide of harmony, transported out of yourself by an enthusiasm perfectly irresistible and electric. Of the many thousand persons who crowded the concert-rooms, and did homage to the stars of the season, how few rightly appreciated the motives that dictated the undertaking; or, if they did think about it at all, wondered at the German enthusiasm which could induce the merchants of Cologne to give up their valuable time for an object in which nothing was to be personally gained.

It was something unexampled, unheard of, this amateur enterprise, and at a meeting of merchants in the city, voices were raised against the project as being infra dig.; but these, we are happy to say, were in the minority; and our modern Argonauts in search of the golden fleece which was to aid in the glorious work that Cologne is so justly proud of-the re

edification of the noble cathedral-were fully rewarded for the difficulties they had to encounter by the reception they met with.

We happened to be in Cologne last summer, and remained there for several days, as S, one of our party, did not like leaving this favourite old city of ours without carrying away some photographic remembrances of the cathedral and the quaint old buildings; but our disappointment may be imagined when, on developing the negatives, S found that, by some means or other, the dust had entered the box of his albumenised glasses, which appeared dotted all over with tiny black spots! It really was too provoking, after all the trouble we had taken-not minding heat or fatigue in search of picturesque subjects, mounting upon the leads of houses, effecting bold invasions into peaceful citizens' dwellings, and submitting quietly to the mortifying indignity of being followed by a crowd of noisy urchins, clamorously entreating for just one peep into the Guckkasten (penny peep-show); whereat the dignity of our commissionaire was so offended, that he disappeared in the afternoon, when his services were again required to carry the camera, and we had to find a substitute for him. There was no time, either, to prepare new glasses, as we were going to bid adieu to Cologne the next morning; and so we consoled ourselves for our disappointment by going to the cathedral, and listening to the evening-service.

The last notes of the organ had died away amid the lofty arches, and as we lingered in the square to take a last look of the splendid old building, S remarked: 'Well, I must say I am much vexed that all my photographs have turned out failures. I should certainly have liked to carry away some remembrancer of old Cologne.'

'I saw some photographs in a window just now, as go and see if we can get one of the cathedral?' Swe were passing the corner of the square. Shall we assenting, we entered the Photographische Anstalt in the Friedrich Wilhelm Gasse. There were a good many excellent photographs of various parts of Cologne, but we saw none of the cathedral; and the diminutive specimen of flaxen-haired Germany who was left in charge, seemed so taken up in the contemplation of somewhat in the light of a novelty in Cologne—that our round hats-which, we had found, were regarded he could not answer satisfactorily; and we sent him off in quest of the principal, Herr Eisen. The photographist, a small wiry man, with a clever, intelligent countenance, entered a few moments afterwards, and produced some photographs of different parts of the cathedral, which S declared surpassed anything he There was a whole portfolio of views of the cathedral, had seen, and became quite enthusiastic on the subject. of every size, and taken from various points of view, and likewise the gorgeous stained-glass windows, taken from the interior. It was a perfect treat to look over this little collection, and there was quite an embarras de choix as to which of these treasures we should carry away with us. Herr Eisen, seeing by S―'s remarks he would like to come to his atelier that evening, as that he understood photography, asked him whether they were then developing a large negative of the sculpture over the cathedral porch.

As we had no other engagement that evening, we accordingly found our way to Herr Eisen's atelier, where S- 's admiration and justly deserved praises of the promised negative fully convinced the little man that his attention had not been thrown away upon us; and he very kindly proceeded to shew us some more of the contents of his portfolios.

'What do you think of this one?' he asked, holding up a large view of the cathedral. It has been exposed twenty-four hours, and is one of the largest photographs ever taken: it gained the first prize at the photographic exhibitions of Bruges and Brussels.'

CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL.

I am sorry that I have forgotten the number of feet and inches it measured, but it certainly was the largest photograph I had ever seen, and so perfect in every minute detail, that we could not refrain from an exclamation of delight. But our photographer had more treasures to shew us: we examined every curious corner and quaint nook in Cologne, recognised every old castle on the Rhine; roamed amid the wild scenery of Switzerland; luxuriated in the sculpture-galleries of Italy, where every statue was clearly defined, and finally lost ourselves in those perspective interiors every which are so difficult to take perfectly, as amateur well knows. 'What a pity it is,' I exclaimed, 'that those muchenduring travellers, who think it a point of duty to enliven their travelling scrap-books with that wellknown melancholy print of Cologne cathedral, are in ignorance of the existence of these beautiful photographs. How I should like some of our friends in England to see them!'

Perhaps I may be able to gratify you, as I intend going to London, in about two months' time, with a collection of photographs. It will not be my first visit, as I have already been there with the Kölner Sänger Verein.'

The Cologne singers! that was a magic word for us; and we immediately inquired if there was any chance of their giving a concert, as we should then certainly defer our departure for a day or two.

'No, I am afraid not,' answered Herr Eisen. We do not give public concerts except for charitable purposes, or, as we did in London, for the benefit of the Kölner Dom. The plan being originally mine, I was made manager of the company; and I can assure you that it was no easy matter to please the various tastes of my somewhat unruly Sänger Chor, most of whom, not understanding a word of English, were continually losing either themselves or their luggage.'

We expressed our disappointment at not being fortunate enough to hear a concert in Cologne, and asked Herr Eisen if we could not at least get some of their four-part songs, which we had tried in vain to obtain in London.

'Some of them are not published, but they are all Ah! doubtless you wish to arranged for four voices. sing them mit Ihren Fräulein Schevestern,' continued 'As you seem so fond Herr Eisen, turning to Sof music, I shall really have great pleasure in copying some of our best songs, and sending them to you when I come to England.'

'By Jove!' exclaimed S, stroking his moustache, 'the very thing we have been wishing for. Really, we are excessively obliged to you, and fully appreciate your kindness.'

But the politeness of our new friend did not end here; for after giving us a most animated and amusing account of his various adventures and difficulties as manager of the company, he finally produced a small green volume, and presented it to us with these words: Dieses Buch verehre ich den jungen Damen, if they will kindly accept it. It is an account of our argonautic expedition to England, by a member of the company.'

Of course, we expressed our grateful thanks for this polite attention, and as it was getting late, we wished Herr Eisen good-bye, and regained our hotel, very much pleased with the result of our evening's excursion.

We were much interested, on looking over the small volume of the Kölner Sünger Verein, to notice the various impressions they had received during their stay in England.

Our German friends were evidently much gratified at the cordial and warm reception they had met with in our country; and it is amusing to observe their surprise when they found that the cold and reserved English, whose motto, "Time is money,' is ever present

in their minds, should yet be so enthusiastic about
music.

It was with no slight degree of anxiety that our
amateur singers prepared for their first concert in
Hanover Square Rooms. The decision of the audience
that night would determine the success of their under-
taking. We need scarcely mention how brilliant that
success was, nor how well deserved the applause that
was showered on the performers. They had established
their reputation: they were the stars of the season.

But a greater triumph was yet in store for them. 'In Exeter Hall the Sänger Verein achieved its most brilliant success. In that hall, where hitherto only sacred music had been performed, and where a Salve Regina had been rejected, as being 'Roman Catholic,' we had free permission to sing even secular music. The members of the Sacred Harmonic Society were surprised at the perfect time the singers kept, and although the former had their tuning-forks with them, they could not discover that we ever got flat. The beauty and aristocracy of England were present at this concert; and although it was completely successful in every way, yet we were greatly disappointed in the hope we had entertained that the Queen would honour the assembly with her presence.'

Through various causes, Her Majesty was prevented from attending any of the first concerts, but when at length charmed with the morning performance of the Verein at Buckingham Palace, she was present at two more of their concerts the same day, and signified her gratification by so marked an approval, their utmost wishes were gratified.

It is impossible to describe the surprise of some of the party who beheld our modern Babel for the first time. The magnitude and extent of the city seemed to overwhelm them. The breadth of the London streets, so full of life and traffic, the shops with their magnificent displays of wealth and luxury, the splendid equipages, following each in endless succession, the whole forming such a contrast to the quiet narrow thoroughfares of their native town, struck them particularly. Why,' exclaims our author, 'there are more riches displayed in one of these jewellers' shops in Regent Street, than in all the Rhine provinces put together. The first few days were spent by the Sänger Chor most agreeably in visiting the many interesting sights of the metropolis; but oh, the London Sunday! what a contrast to the cheerful, joyous Sunday-life on the Rhine! where every one considers the day of rest as a day of rejoicing, not of penance-a day on which those who have toiled wearily all the week in close rooms, can once again breathe the pure air of heaven!'

Although we do not quite agree with the author of the little volume before us, when he says: 'If Dante had spent a rainy Sunday in London, he would have found sufficient material for writing one of his finest cantos of the Purgatorio, or even the Inferno, for London ennui is even worse than the infernal regions;' yet we can quite sympathise with him in his surprise at being told that many people objected even to have music in their own houses on a Sunday! What would our good friends have said if they had witnessed the endeavours of those bigoted and narrow-minded persons who have lately tried their utmost to deprive our poor hard-working population, not only of the few harmless enjoyments open to them on their day of rest, but even of the breath of fresh air they obtain in the parks!

Some of the party, from their total ignorance of English, are frequently in danger of losing themselves, and are therefore told, by way of precaution, to keep in mind the name of their hotel, the Prince of Wales. Getting into a cab at the close of the second concert, on the cabman's asking Where to?' they answer simply: Prince of Wales'-that being the extent of their knowledge of English. The cabman, touching

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his hat, mounts the box, and drives the 'full-dress gentlemen' to Buckingham Palace! The Verein were very much surprised at the strict regulations respecting full dress customary at our opera; and one of the party indignantly complains of being refused admittance to the house when he appeared in what he terms a Phantasie-frack-a species of coat so original, that the doorkeeper could not determine whether it belonged to the class of dress-coats or not. Judging from the eccentric garments in which our German friends occasionally indulge, we are hardly surprised at the doorkeeper's hesitation.

In describing one of the concerts, the author pays such homage to the beauty of our fair countrywomen, that we cannot resist giving the extract. 'Soon every place was filled with the élite of the London world, and great was the surprise of the Sänger Chor when they beheld the peerless, Juno-like figures, such as are only found amongst the blondes and brunettes of England, who crowded the room, forming a blooming parterre of unequalled loveliness-each lady being a queen of grace and beauty, while their charms were enhanced by the exquisite toilets, which far surpassed our most elegant ball-costumes. Every new song was welcomed with increased enthusiasm, and our fair audience rapturously encored the Schwertlied, Kirchlein and Normann's Sang, without sparing their kid-gloves! It was inspiring to behold how every feeling expressed in the songs produced an almost magical effect upon the lovely countenances of the fair listeners. They did not even attempt to control their emotion, and many a beautiful eye was bedewed with tears, which, however, were quickly succeeded by sparkling smiles when Die Kapelle was followed by Mendelssohn's joyous Rheinweinlied. That such heartfelt sympathy should | urge the singers on to new efforts is not surprising, and we all agreed that the English ladies in their own country were very different from the lady-tourists we were accustomed to see on the Rhine.

'At the close of the concert, when the last notes of the national hymn had died away, a stately lady advanced towards the singers, and addressed them in a voice trembling with emotion: " Gentlemen, you have given us all exquisite pleasure. An Englishwoman thanks you with her whole heart, in the name of her sisters!" Seldom, indeed, had the Verein been honoured with a more graceful farewell.'

There are many more pleasant reminiscences of England in the little volume before us; and it is evidently with great regret that the Cologne Sänger Chor bade adieu to the land where they had met with so enthusiastic a reception during their three weeks' visit. The object of the undertaking, however, was attained; and the merchants of Cologne hastened homewards, to renew the toils of their busy life, and to present the committee of the Dom Bau with the not inconsiderable sum of 3350 dollars, the fruit of their romantic expedition to England, for romantic it certainly was in this practical nineteenth century of ours. With justifiable pride, the Sänger Verein exhibited the golden tankard presented by our Queen with a gracious letter of thanks for the concerts they gave in Buckingham Palace; and at every festive meeting of the Verein, this graceful gift occupies the place of honour on the board. The modern Argonauts have returned to their native city, amid the rejoicings and cheers of their fellow-citizens; but long will their exquisite melodies be remembered in England by those who were fortunate enough to hear them.

It is pleasant to look back on the noble spirit that urged these men to unite in a common cause, and by their indefatigable perseverance during the many years that the Cologne Männer Gesang Verein has been established, to aid so materially in the building of the glorious cathedral. In conclusion, I need only add that on our return from the continent, we found that

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Ir all England have not heard of the Mammoth tree which has of late been exhibited to admiring crowds in London and elsewhere, it is no fault of the newspapers, nor of that numerous band of literary filibusterers who are always ready to fight under any banner, and for any captain, if he can only pay them. But all England has not yet heard of the particular place whence the monster came, and will therefore perhaps be willing to read something brief thereupon.

Imagining ourselves for a moment to be in California, in Calaveras county, we follow the course of an affluent of the Stanislas, which winds serpentlike, and with many an eddy, along one of the valleys that penetrate the Sierra Nevada; and at about fifteen miles from Murphy's, we come to a circular basin sequestered among the hills. Its diameter may be a mile, and its elevation from 4000 to 5000 feet above the sea-level. Here we find ourselves in presence of the giants-real giants of the vegetable kingdom, such as we should never have expected to see in these post-diluvian days. Not without emotion, and a profound sense of admiration, do we gaze upon them. The wind blows cold, and the heights around are covered with snow; but we heed not the blast; the snow brings out the trees in better relief; the sight repays us for all our fatigue, and makes us forget the wearisome return-journey yet to be encountered. It is not an everyday occurrence to stand under the shadow of trees that began to grow about the time that Hannibal was marching victorious upon Rome, and were still in their infancy at the birth of Christianity. What changes have come over the world-how many empires have risen and fallen since first their branches waved in the breeze! There they stand, ninety of them, living witnesses of a past far more remote than the earliest dawn of American tradition.

The smallest of these giants is fifteen feet in diameter. They occupy an extent of about fifty acres in the basin above mentioned, where they tower above all others of their species. The tall trees among the latter appear dwarfs in comparison. Long fringes and festoons of yellow moss and lichen hang around their proud trunks; and a parasite growing from their roots-a kind of hypopithys-shoots its graceful stems, adorned with bractea and rose-coloured flowers, to a height of ten feet. The place has thus the double charm of beauty and magnificence.

It will be understood, of course, that the giants here spoken of are pine-trees. The tops of many are broken and mutilated by the weight of the snow which in winter accumulates on their terminal branches; and some have been injured at the base by the camp-fires of Indians. A few have been so deeply hollowed by repeated burning, that a whole family might lodge with all their household gear in the blackened excavations. The bark generally is marked by deep longitudinal furrows, presenting the appearance of pillars or fluted columns. One has been stripped of its bark to a height of 100 feet; and a spiral row of pegs driven in, forms a not very safe means of ascent around the bare portion, yet the tree flourishes above as vigorously as ever.

The proprietor of the neighbouring tavern conducts his guests to the site of these prodigies of vegetation, and tells their names-he in most instances having been sole sponsor. First he calls attention to the Big Tree, which is, or rather was, 95 feet in circumference, and 300 feet high; for now it lies prostrate, a monarch pulled down by the hands of republicans. Fivé men were employed for twenty-five days in felling it. They drew a line all round seven feet from the ground, and along this they bored holes close together to the very

centre of the stem with an enormous auger, so that the tree losing its equilibrium, at last fell with a shock that echoed like thunder among the hills. Three weeks more were spent in stripping off the bark for a length of 52 feet only and now the king of the forest has one side flattened to be used as a bowling alley,' at the end of which stands a small wooden house where the players may quench their thirst with juleps and cocktails. To what base purposes may we not descend! To be told that a wagon and horses could travel easily along the overthrown stem, excites no surprise when we know that its diameter at the thickest end is 23 feet 7 inches, without reckoning the bark, which would be about three feet more. The stump has also been turned to account; its upper surface is smoothed and polished, and supports a pavilion in which visitors may sit and contemplate the scene around.

Having satisfied our curiosity with regard to the Big Tree, we are next conducted to the Miner's Cabin, which stands 300 feet high, and is 80 feet in circumference; to the Old Bachelor, the same height, but 20 feet less in girth; the Hermit, so named from standing a little apart from the rest, a handsome fellow, with one side of his trunk scorched, containing, however, according to the calculation of a knowing 'lumbermerchant,' 725,000 feet of timber. Then we have the Husband and Wife, not more than 250 feet high, leaning towards each other at the summit; and the Three Sisters, growing apparently from the same roota remarkably fine group. They are all 300 feet high, and 92 in girth; and the middle one has not a branch below 200 feet. Further on, the Mother and Son attract attention-the lady being 325 feet high, and the youth 300: perhaps he has not done growing. In girth they are both alike-93 feet. Then the Siamese Twins and their Guardian; the Old Maid, like the Bachelor, isolated; but her head is bald; and the Bride of California, the Beauty of the Forest, Mister Shelby, and Uncle Tom's Cabin. This latter has a hollow at the bottom of the trunk large enough to seat twenty-five persons, to which you enter through a gap 10 feet high and 2 feet wide. The Horseback Ride is an old hollow trunk fallen down, in which visitors may ride on horseback.

There are other trees and other names, but those we have enumerated will perhaps suffice, without our repeating any that betray the disposition to vulgarity that prevails in remote parts of the states. The Family Group, however, must not be passed over in silence: it comprises twenty-six trees, among which are seen father, mother, and twenty-four children. The father lost his perpendicular years ago, and fell down, and yet he is 110 feet in circumference at his base; he was, as is supposed, when in his prime, 450 feet high. The portion which remains is hollow throughout, and partly buried in the soil, while from underneath bursts a perennial spring, which it covered in its fall. The mother is 327 feet high, and 91 in girth; the children are not quite so large. The Americans, in their fondness for 'tall' nomenclature, call these fifty acres of trees the Mammoth Grove.

spot, is a question often asked; but the fact is, they are found in other parts of the Sierra Nevada, particularly in the pass leading to Carson Valley, though not in such numbers or of so great dimensions. The difference is charged to the destructive propensities of the Indians.

OCCASIONAL NOTES.

PATENTS FOR MACHINES AND PROCESSES.

THE history of mechanical invention is full of cases like that of Hargraves, the inventor of the spinningjenny, who was ruined for want of a patent. Professor George Wilson stated to the Scottish Society of Arts a few weeks ago, that on a recent tour of the manufacturing districts, he was much struck with a beautiful piece of mechanism for weaving, and inquired who had invented it. He was quietly told that the inventor was now breaking stones on the road in a neighbouring district. Somebody had asked for a sight of his model, and by and by the machine was offered for sale all over the country.

But does the history of patents shew that they afford a certain protection, and so enable the inventor to remunerate himself? Far from it. It is seldom that an invention is not capable of being brought out with some specialty of difference, giving it a more or less plausible claim to originality. Then there is the uncertainty and the slowness of legal redress. It is commonly said that seven years of the valuable life of James Watt were thrown away in litigation, in a great measure vain, for the protection of his patent rights.

Inventors in chemistry are more fortunate, for if they can preserve their secret, they are comparatively safe. Many dyers and calico-printers, who have hit upon peculiar processes, do not regard the protection of a patent as worth paying for. In these cases, however, extraordinary stratagems are occasionally resorted to in order to get at the secret. "The history of pottery,' remarks Dr George Wilson, 'is in many respects a shameful record. Here we have a gentleman feigning insanity, and working as a menial till he has learned the potter's secret. Advantage is taken of Josiah Wedgewood's serious illness to steal his papers. A workman ran away from one German dukedom to another with the recipes of a porcelain work in his possession. He hopes to make his own iniquitous terms; but they fill him drunk, and pick his pockets of the stolen recipes. A German prince deliberately imprisons a chemist till he successfully makes stoneware for him; and Frederick the Great makes no scruple of carrying off whole families of Saxon potters, and compelling them to settle in Prussia. These are not exceptional cases. The history of pottery abounds in them.'

The history of inventors is remarkable for what may be called its tragical anomalies. Patrick Miller, who was so much concerned in promoting steam-navigation in its infancy seventy years ago, impoverished himself by his inventions; and his family, when in reduced circumstances, never received one farthing of recomAs regards a distinctive botanical term, this colossal pense from the public. The widow of James Taylor, species is known by various names: Taxodium semper- who prompted and actually managed Mr Miller's first virens, Sequoia gigantea, Wellingtonia gigantea, Washing-experiments in steam-navigation, lives at ninety with tonia, and others. The last two are modern designa- a pension of fifty pounds. The son of Gray, who first tions; the second, having been assigned by Endlicher in his Synopsis Coniferarum, should be regarded as definitive. The wood is of a reddish colour, and appears to be more elastic than any other yet known. It has, moreover, the property of not splitting in the sun, and is but little liable to decay; the branches are short, and the foliage similar to that of the juniper. It is considered remarkable that so large a tree should bear such small spines, and cones no bigger than a hen's egg.

Why these trees should be confined to this particular

expounded railway-travelling, was not many years ago endeavouring to get a clerk's situation on a western line. Who has not heard of the case of Henry Cort, who, about 1782, discovered the method of rendering pig-iron malleable in an air-furnace heated by the flame of pit-coal, without the aid of charcoal, or bellows, or cylinders'-the process termed puddling, which has been the express means of enabling us to make use of our native iron, and in a manner created a trade which adds millions per annum to the national wealth? This Henry Cort, from circumstances beyond his control,

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