But two species of the genus Sequoia carry on the noble line in these feeble times. Scions of a race whose ancestors extend into the depths of the ages, they seem to be not a part of this puny world. Gigantic in proportion, they are not unlike uncouth vestiges of another age when all things were molded on a monstrous scale. Numbering their years by thousands, they are an “unaccountable oversight” in a world where lives are limited to the psalmist’s span of years, and where there is no hope of gaining the length of days of Methuselah and his kin. Indeed, they appear to be more like mysterious strangers from some far star than solitary and lonely survivors in the midst of an unfamiliar new age. Patiently accepting the part of on-lookers, they disdain to take their place in the active ways of the world and continue to exist for no apparent reason other than to preserve the pristine glory of their ancestors lest it die with them and leave the coming years. Rarest of all tree species, these two survivors are the Giant Sequoia, or _Sequoia gigantea_, and the Redwood, or _Sequoia sempervirens_. Both are impressive in the mystery that hangs over their history. But it is only this that they may be said to have in common. In almost every other respect they are quite dissimilar. True, the Giant Sequoia is a grander and more massive edition of the Redwood. However, the former puts the latter in the shade as to girth, while the latter dwarfs the former as to height. The Big Tree is unexceeded among trees in girth; the Redwood probably outstrips all trees of the world in height. Rarely does the Big Tree lift its towering column of verdure more than 280 feet into the heavens. Yet it attains an amazing trunk diameter of 20 to 27 feet well above its immense swollen base. The Redwood seldom produces a trunk more than 15 feet in diameter and the average of the larger trees range from 8 to 12 feet. Trees 280 feet high are not altogether uncommon. Some even wave their evergreen crowns 340 dizzy feet above the ground—truly a prodigious altitude for living shafts of wood to attain. The Big Tree keeps its youth longer than any known tree and for this reason is acclaimed the oldest living thing. Frequently it reaches as great an age as 2,500 years. A few Giant Sequoias are known to have passed their three thousandth year. Seemingly, this figure fails to convey a satisfactory comprehension of the magnitude of such a great age to the minds of popular writers. As a consequence, the age of this grand tree has suffered unpardonable padding. Nevertheless, such estimates are not conclusive and rest only on the speculative notions of fanciful writers. The Redwood, on the other hand, while quite noteworthy in longevity in the tree world, scarcely sees a thousand summers. It must yield the palm in all honor to its greater cousin which ranks first in age of all the worthies of the tree kingdom, and, hence, in the world of living things.