Limestone rock is very plentiful in this district, and there are a great number of kilns for burning it, constructed exactly like those we see at home. Large quantities of water-fowl, such as geese, ducks, teal, and several fine varieties of the kingfisher, were common about the river. Inland, on the hill-sides, pheasants, woodcocks, and partridges were most abundant. I believe deer are also plentiful, but I did not see any.

Thus day after day passed pleasantly by; the weather was delightful, the natives quiet and inoffensive, and the scenery picturesque in the highest degree. My Chinamen and myself, often footsore and weary, used to sit down on the hill-top and survey and enjoy the beautiful scenery around us. The noble river, clear and shining, was seen winding amongst the hills; here it was smooth as glass, deep and still, and there shallow, and running rapidly over its rocky bed. At some places trees and bushes hung over its sides, and dipped their branches into the water, while at others rocks reared their heads high above the stream, and bade defiance to its rapid current.

The whole country was hilly, and the distant mountains, varying in height from three hundred to three thousand feet, were peaked, ridged, and furrowed in a most remarkable manner. Altogether the views were most charming, and will long remain vividly impressed upon my memory.

On the 29th and 30th of October we passed the towns of Tsa-yuen, Tsasa-poo, Kang-koo, and Shang-iyuen, all places of considerable note, particularly the last, which must contain at least 100,000 inhabitants.

Opposite to the town of Tsa-yuen there is a curious shaped hill, which is composed chiefly of granite of a beautiful greenish colour, much prized by the Chinese. The slabs which are quarried out of the hill are used for various ornamental purposes, but they are more particularly in demand for the building of tombs. Large quantities are taken down the river to Yenchow and Hang-chow for this purpose.

The tea-plant was now frequently seen in cultivation on the hill sides, this being the outskirt of the great green-tree country to which I was bound. Large camphor-trees were frequently seen in the valleys, particularly near the villages. Tallow-trees were still in extensive cultivation, and at this season of the year, being clothed in their autumnal hues, they produced a striking effect upon the varied landscape. The leaves had changed from a light-green to a dark blood-red colour. Another tree, a species of maple, called by the Chinese the fung-gze, was also most picturesque from the same cause. These two trees formed a striking contrast with the dark-green foliage of the pine tribe.

But the most beautiful tree found in this district is a species of weeping cypress, which I had never met with in any other part of China, and which was quite new to me. It was during one of my daily rambles that I saw the first specimen. About half a mile distant from where I was I observed a noblelooking fir-tree, about sixty feet in height, having a stem as straight as the Norfolk Island pine, and weeping branches like the willow of St. Helena. Its

branches grew at first at right angles to the main stem, then described a graceful curve upwards, and bent again at their points. From these main branches others long and slender hung down perpendicularly, and gave the whole tree a weeping and graceful form. It reminded me of some of those large and gorgeous chandeliers, sometimes seen in theatres and public halls in Europe.

What could it be? It evidently belonged to the pine tribe, and was more handsome and ornamental than them all. I walked, no,-to tell the plain truth, I ran up. to the place where it grew, much to the surprise of my attendants, who evidently thought I had gone crazy. When I reached the spot where it grew it appeared more beautiful even than it had done in the distance. Its stem was perfectly straight, like Cryptomeria, and its leaves were formed like those of the well-known arbor-vitæ, only much more slender and graceful.

This specimen was fortunately covered with a quantity of ripe fruit, a portion of which I was most anxious to secure. The tree was growing in some grounds belonging to a country inn, and was the property of the innkeeper. A wall intervened between us and it, which I confess I felt very much inclined to get over; but remembering that I was acting Chinaman, and that such a proceeding would have been very indecorous, to say the least of it, I immediately gave up the idea. We now walked into the inn, and, seating ourselves quietly down at one of the tables, ordered some dinner to be brought to us. When we had taken our meal we lighted our

Chinese pipes, and sauntered out, accompanied by our polite host, into the garden where the real attraction lay. "What a fine tree this of yours is! we have never seen it in the countries near the sea where we come from; pray give us some of its seeds." "It is a fine tree," said the man, who was evidently much pleased with our admiration of it, and readily complied with our request. These seeds were carefully treasured; and as they got home safely, and are now growing in England, we may expect in a few years to see a new and striking feature produced upon our landscape by this lovely tree. Afterwards, as we journeyed westward, it became more common, and was frequently to be seen in clumps on the sides of the hills.

This tree has been named the FUNEREAL CYPRESS. Professor Lindley-to whom I sent one of the dried specimens procured during this journey-pronounces it "an acquisition of the highest interest ;" and adds, "We have received a specimen of it, which enables us to say that it must be a plant of the greatest beauty. It may be best described as a tree like the weeping willow in growth, with the foliage of the savin, but of a brighter green; it is, however, not a juniper, as the savin is, but a genuine cypress. It has long been a subject of regret that the Italian cypress cannot be made to endure our climate, and to decorate our burial-places; but we have now a finer tree, still better adapted for the purpose. Leaving the town of Shang-i-yuen, abreast of which * Gardener's Chronicle, 1849, p. 243.