. The wood-rings in the section I laid bare were so
involved and contorted in some places that I was not able to determine
its age exactly, but I counted over 4000 rings, which showed that this
tree was in its prime, swaying in the Sierra winds, when Christ walked
the earth. No other tree in the world, as far as I know, has looked down
on so many centuries as the Sequoia, or opens such impressive and
suggestive views into history.

So exquisitely harmonious and finely balanced are even the very
mightiest of these monarchs of the woods in all their proportions and
circumstances there never is anything overgrown or monstrous-looking
about them. On coming in sight of them for the first time, you are
likely to say, "Oh, see what beautiful, noble-looking trees are towering
there among the firs and pines!"--their grandeur being in the mean time
in great part invisible, but to the living eye it will be manifested
sooner or later, stealing slowly on the senses, like the grandeur of
Niagara, or the lofty Yosemite domes. Their great size is hidden from
the inexperienced observer as long as they are seen at a distance in one
harmonious view. When, however, you approach them and walk round them,
you begin to wonder at their colossal size and seek a measuring-rod.
These giants bulge considerably at the base, but not more than is
required for beauty and safety; and the only reason that this bulging
seems in some cases excessive is that only a comparatively small section
of the shaft is seen at once in near views. One that I measured in the
King's River forest was 25 feet in diameter at the ground, and 10 feet
in diameter 200 feet above the ground, showing that the taper of the
trunk as a whole is charmingly fine. And when you stand back far enough
to see the massive columns from the swelling instep to the lofty summit
dissolving in a dome of verdure, you rejoice in the unrivaled display of
combined grandeur and beauty. About a hundred feet or more of the trunk
is usually branchless, but its massive simplicity is relieved by the
bark furrows, which instead of making an irregular network run evenly
parallel, like the fluting of an architectural column, and to some
extent by tufts of slender sprays that wave lightly in the winds and
cast flecks of shade, seeming to have been pinned on here and there for
the sake of beauty only. The young trees have slender simple branches
down to the ground, put on with strict regularity, sharply aspirin