ory, customs, manners, and
modes of living which tea plays in the life of all nations will be
found entertaining and instructive. Linked with the fine
feminine atmosphere which pervades the drinking of the beverage
everywhere, a leaf which can combine so much deserves, at least,
a little human hearing for its long list of virtues; for its
peaceful walks, talks, tales, tattle, frills, and fancies which
go to make up this tribute to "the cup that cheers but not
inebriates."

_THE ORIGIN OF TEA_

Darma, third son of Koyuwo, King of India, a religions high
priest from Siaka (the author of that Eastern paganism about a
thousand years before the Christian era), coming to China, to
teach the way of happiness, lived a most austere life, passing his
days in continual mortification, and retiring by night to
solitudes, in which he fed only upon the leaves of trees and
other vegetable productions. After several years passed in this
manner, in fasting and watching, it happened that, contrary to
his vows, the pious Darma fell asleep! When he awoke, he was
so much enraged at himself, that, to prevent the offence to his
vows for the future, he got rid of his eyelids and placed them on
the ground. On the following day, returning to his accustomed
devotions, he beheld, with amazement, springing up from his
eyelids, two small shrubs of an unusual appearance, such as he
had never before seen, and of whose qualities he was, of course,
entirely ignorant. The saint, however, not being wholly devoid
of curiosity--or, perhaps, being unusually hungry--was prompted
to eat of the leaves, and immediately felt within him a wonderful
elevation of mind, and a vehement desire of divine contemplation,
with which he acquainted his disciples, who were eager to
follow the example of their instructor, and they readily
received into common use the fragrant plant which has been
the theme of so many poetical and literary pens in succeeding ages.

[Illustration of Dr. Johnson's chair]

_TEA_

By FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS

From what enchanted Eden came thy leaves
That hide such subtle spirits of perfume?
Did eyes preadamite first see the bloom,
Luscious nepenthe of the soul that grieves?

By thee the tired and torpid mind conceives
Fairer than roses brightening life's gloom,
Thy protean charm can every form assume
And turn December