Hid behind the monster wall that screens in the land of the Celestials from the prying eye of the “barbarian,” the Tea-plant, in common with many things peculiar to those regions, remained long unknown to Europeans, and the snatches of information brought home by early travelers concerning it, were, in too many cases, of that questionable and contradictory kind, so characteristic, even in the present day, of the writings of those who travel in Eastern lands. Tea has now become a general article of domestic consumption in every household of our country having any pretension to social comfort, as well as in that of every other civilized nation, and, indeed, the _tea-table_ has no mean influence in refining the manners and promoting the social intercourse of a people. Important, however, as this universal beverage has become as an essential requisite to the social and physical comfort of all classes and conditions of civilized society, yet our knowledge of the plant from which it is produced is still very imperfect; and this, notwithstanding the fact that we have had tea-plants growing in our hothouses since the year 1768. Speaking of the introduction of the plant to this country, Hooker says—“It was not till after tea had been used as a beverage for upwards of a century in England, that the shrub which produces it was brought alive to this country. More than one botanist had embarked for the voyage to China—till lately a protracted and formidable undertaking—mainly in the hope of introducing a growing tea-tree to our greenhouses. No passage across the desert, no Waghorn-facilities, no steam-ship assisted the traveler in those days. The distance to and from China, with the necessary time spent in that country, generally consumed nearly three years! Once had the tea-tree been procured by Osbeck, a pupil of Linnæus, in spite of the jealous care with which the Chinese forbade its exportation; and when near the coast of England, a storm ensued, which destroyed the precious shrubs. Then the plan of obtaining berries was adopted, and frustrated by the heat of the tropics, which spoiled the oily seeds, and prevented their germination. The captain of a Swedish vessel hit upon a good scheme: having secured fresh berries, he sowed these on board ship, and often stinted himself of his daily allowance of water for the sake of the young plants; but, just as the ship entered the English Channel, an unlucky rat attacked his cherished charge and devoured them all!” So much, then, for the early attempts to introduce the tea-shrub to Europe: often, indeed, is the truth exemplified that “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft a-gee.”