varieties, each thrives best in a certain locality, and throughout the whole empire of China the bamboo groves not only embellish the gardens of the poor, but the vast parks of the princes and wealthy.  The use to which this stately grass is put is truly wonderful.  The tender shoots are cultivated for food like the asparagus; the roots are carved into fantastic images of men, birds, and monkeys.  The tapering culms are used for all purposes that poles can be applied to, in carrying, supporting, propelling, and measuring; by the porter, the carpenter, and the boatman; for the joists of houses and the ribs of sails; the shafts of spears and the wattles of hurdles, the tubes of aqueducts and the handles and ribs of umbrellas and fans.  The leaves are sewed upon cords to make rain-cloaks for farmers and boatmen, for sails to boats as well as junks, swept into heaps to form manure, and matted into thatches to cover houses.  The bamboo wood is cut into splints and slivers of various sizes to make into baskets and trays of every form and fancy, twisted into cables, plaited into awnings, and woven into mats for the bed and floor, for the sceneries of the theatre, for the roofs of boats, and the casing of goods.  The shavings are picked into oakum to be stuffed into mattresses.  The bamboo furnishes the bed for sleeping and the couch for reclining, the chair for sitting, the chop-sticks for eating, the pipe for smoking, the flute for entertaining; a curtain to hang before the door, and a broom to sweep around it.  The ferrule to govern the scholar, the book he studies and the paper he writes upon, all originated from this wonderful grass.  The tapering barrels of the organ and the dreadful instrument of the lictor—­one to strike harmony, and the other to strike dread; the rule to measure lengths, the cup to gauge quantities, and the bucket to draw water; the bellows to blow the fire and the box to retain the match; the bird-cage and crab-net, the fish-pole, and the water-wheel and eaveduct, wheelbarrow, and hand-cart, and a host of other things, are the utilities to which this magnificent grass is converted.”

ENDURING CHARACTER OF THE FORESTS.

Of all the works of the creation which know the changes of life and death, the trees of the forest have the longest existence.  Of all the objects which crown the gray earth, the woods preserved unchanged, throughout the greatest reach of time, their native character.  The works of man are ever varying their aspect; his towns and his fields alike reflect the unstable opinions, the fickle wills and fancies of each passing generation; but the forests on his borders remain to-day the same as they were ages of years since.  Old as the everlasting hills, during thousands of seasons they have put forth and laid down their verdure in calm obedience to the decree which first bade them cover the ruins of the Deluge.

Susan Fenimore Cooper.