The frequency with which Shakespeare mentions the cedar can only be explained as the action of a far-ranging intellect, beholding things through the eyes of travellers, and weaving hearsay into vivid imagery. He had, indeed, scriptural authority for assigning to the cedar royal pre-eminence among trees.

"Behold, the Assyrian was a cedar in Lebanon with fair branches.... The cedars in the garden of God could not hide him; the fir trees were not like his boughs, and the chestnut trees were not like his branches, nor any tree in the garden of God was like unto him in beauty.... So that all the trees of Eden that were in the garden of God envied him." (Ezekiel, xxxi., 3, 8, 9.)

But Shakespeare himself never set eyes upon a cedar: for Evelyn, writing fifty years after his death, could but deplore that there were no cedars in England—"I conceive," says he, "from our want of industry." He says that he had raised seedlings, perhaps from the first cones brought to this country. Howbeit, once this noble tree was established with us, it throve amain, and it is now as familiar an adjunct to English manor houses as the yew is to churchyards.

In Scotland it is not so often seen, more's the pity, for the fine specimens at Hopetoun House, Biel, Moncrieff House, Dupplin, and Mount Stuart, ranging from 64 to 88 feet high, with girths of from 13 to 23 feet, testify to its acceptance of northerly conditions. The largest cedar recorded by Elwes is a splendid specimen at Pains Hill, near Cobham, which in 1905 measured 115 feet high, with a girth of 26 feet 5 inches. Like most of its kind in Great Britain, this tree, having been planted for ornament, has been allowed room to throw out mighty side branches; but the cedar can be made to develop lofty, clean boles if grown in close canopy, such as one at Petworth, in Sussex, which in 1905 was 125 feet high, 14½ feet in girth, with a straight trunk clear of branches to a height of 80 feet, save for one small branch that has grown out at 56 feet from the ground.

Having regard to the fine quality of the timber, it is to be regretted that more attention has not been given to growing cedars under forest conditions. The nearest approach that I have seen to this treatment is in the fine cedar avenue at Dropmore, Bucks, where a large number of trees, close planted about seventy years ago, have grown straight and fair to a height of as many feet.

A few years ago, when the Duke of Northumberland was having some trees felled on Solomon's Hill in Albury Park, a lofty cedar, whereof he had never suspected the existence, was revealed. Forest discipline had cleared the magnificent bole of branches to a height of fifty feet, and fifty more must be added as the probable height of the tree, which, owing to the nature of the ground, cannot be accurately ascertained.

In regard to the timber, the value whereof for building caused the Israelitish Kings to levy such severe tribute from the forest of Lebanon, what is produced in the humid atmosphere of the British Isles is not so hard and durable as that grown in the Orient; but it is extremely suitable for panelling and other indoor work, being of a delicate pinkish hue, fine in grain, and beautifully figured. There is no regular market for it in Britain, but the opportunity not infrequently occurs of securing the trunk of blown trees, and ought not to be lost. If one goes into the market to buy cedar wood, what is likely to be supplied is not coniferous wood at all, but that of Cedrela odorata, a West Indian tree belonging to the natural order MeliaceÆ. On the other hand, the scented wood used for pencils comes from the so-called pencil cedar, which is not a cedar, but a juniper—Juniperus virginiana—a tree of columnar habit and slow growth, perfectly hardy in this country, and very ornamental.

The late Sir Joseph Hooker visited the cedar grove on Mount Lebanon in 1864, and found about 400 old trees producing plenty of seed, by which the forest would soon regenerate itself if the ground were protected from goats, which devour every seedling. Besides this grove at the head of the Kedisha Valley there are four others in the Lebanon district, the largest of which, at Baruk, was reported in 1903 by Dr. A. E. Day as containing many young trees; but the older trees were being recklessly hacked for fuel and house timbers. Besides the Lebanon groves, which are specially interesting from their connection with biblical history and the prodigious age of some of the trees, there are extensive forests of Cedrus libani in the Taurus Mountains, where the winter is very severe.

In Britain this tree responds to excess of moisture by growing far more rapidly than in its native forests; and, notwithstanding that exaggerated views are entertained about the age of certain specimens, it seems certain that it never will attain with us anything approaching the age of the patriarchs of Lebanon. Assuming that none were planted in Britain before the middle of the seventeenth century, and that very many have died, showing all the signs of senile decay, we cannot calculate on a duration of life exceeding 250 years, or rather more than the normal life span of the beech and ash.

Fifteen years ago or so I was appointed to represent the Privy Council on a Committee formed to take over the Chelsea Physic Garden from the Apothecaries Company. One of the first problems that presented itself was how to deal with an aged cedar of Lebanon that stood in the grounds. Probably it was one of the oldest in Great Britain, for it was one of those mentioned by Sir Hans Sloane in 1685 as having been planted in the Physic Garden, but the dwellers in Chelsea had conceived a fabulous estimate of its age, and, although it was stone dead, the mere whisper of the need for removing it sent a wave of indignation through the neighbourhood. Howbeit, the dead tree was an eyesore and a harbour for wood-lice and other pests, so it had to go. It was felled and taken away; but in deference to popular feeling this was done under cloud of night!

The cedar of Mount Atlas (C. atlantica) was pronounced by Sir Joseph Hooker to be, like the Indian deodar (C. deodara), really no more than a geographical and climatic variety of the cedar of Lebanon; but whereas the difference in habit and appearance is well marked and constant, modern classifiers have assigned each of the three specific rank. For the British planter the distinction between them is of considerable importance. The Mount Atlas cedar, which forms great forests in the mountain ranges of Morocco and Algeria at high altitudes, is far more erect in growth, and has less tendency to wide branching, than the cedar of Lebanon. The glaucous variety, with foliage of a charming silvery bloom, is one of the loveliest conifers that can be planted, provided it is raised from seed; but nothing except disappointment is prepared for those whom nurserymen supply with plants raised from cuttings or grafts, which are invariably lacking in the graceful carriage and erect habit which distinguish this species among all other cedars. There is the less excuse for propagation by these means, inasmuch as the Atlantic cedar ripens its cones in our country as freely as the Lebanon cedar, and seed gathered from glaucous parents will produce a considerable proportion of seedlings with the hereditary tint.

The cedar of Mount Atlas was not introduced to England until about 1845, but there are already many handsome specimens, measuring 50 to 80 feet high. The tallest I have seen in Scotland is at Smeaton-Hepburn, in East Lothian, which was 69 feet high and 6½ feet in girth in 1902.

The deodar, C. deodara, may be distinguished at a glance from either of the other forms of cedar by the graceful drooping of the young growth. A native of the Western Himalayas, at altitudes from 4,000 to 10,000 feet, it has not adapted itself very successfully to our mild, restless winters and cool summers, the very reverse of its native climate. It grows in its own country to an immense size, 150 to 250 feet high, and as much as 35 feet in girth, with long clean boles. Elwes records how a fallen deodar lay for at least one hundred years in one of the leased forests of the North-West before it was cut up, when it sufficed for 460 railway sleepers, narrow gauge.

Deodar seed was first sown in Britain in 1831, at Melville in Fife and Dropmore in Bucks. Ten years later large quantities were raised and planted in the New Forest, but so many of these died without apparent cause between the ages of forty and fifty years that their cultivation there has been discontinued. Similar results have been experienced elsewhere, so it does not seem that this tree, however desirable as an ornamental species, can ever be of importance for forestry in the United Kingdom. Moreover, it is not so hardy as the other two cedars, many having succumbed in all parts of the country during the severe winter of 1860-61. There are, however, many fine specimens in the southern counties of England and in Ireland, ranging from 75 to 85 feet high. In Scotland, Elwes has recorded nothing taller than a tree at Smeaton-Hepburn, which measured 55 feet high in 1902. There are several of about the same height at Galloway House in Wigtownshire.

On the whole, the best species of cedar for planting in this country, whether for timber or ornament, is the cedar of Mount Atlas.