The Cypress Tree

On Lebanon itself, as well as in Cypress, cedars, we believe, have been known to attain to the height of a hundred and thirty feet, with proportionate bulk; whereas the largest in this country seem never to have exceeded the height of seventy-five feet, a difference which some naturalists have attributed to the colder and more ungenial climate of England. But there are mysteries in vegetation as well as in other things. The cold of Lebanon is in winter more severe than that experienced in England, though, on the other hand, the heat of summer is much greater, and these variations of temperature may possibly be necessary to develop the cedar in its full beauty and dimensions. The cypress in nearly all the countries bordering on the Mediterranean grows to a great height, though it increases so slowly in bulk, that many ages are necessary to bring it to perfection. The wood of this tree is of rare beauty, closeness and durability, for which reason it was selected by the Egyptians for the manufacture of mummy coffins, many of which, after having lain in the earth several thousand years, are still to all appearance as tough and serviceable as ever.

There is a sort of mythology in natural history which constructs its fables and legends after quite as marvelous a fashion as that habitually followed by the founders of wild creeds. Thus, not content with appealing to genuine history, in proof of the lasting qualities of cypress-wood, the old naturalists go back to Semiramis, and refer gravely to the bridge, all of this timber, which she is supposed to have thrown across the Euphrates, and which lasted no one knows how long. So, again, the philosopher Plato, when selecting the most durable material on which to write his laws, rejected brass, as of too fugitive a nature, and gave the preference to cypress wood. The cause of durability in this wood is what no one has explained, nor is it perhaps susceptible of explanation. It is easy to say that the timber in question is pervaded by a bitter juice, which repels all kinds of worms, so that it never presents, like many other kinds of wood, the appearance of being moth-eaten. To account, however, for its lasting qualities, we can only assume that Nature, by composing it of the finest particles piled slowly upon each other, pressed close and agglutinated by the laws of its organization, designed it to outlive temples and pyramids.–Chambers’ Journal.

[tags]Ann Arbor Democrat, December, 1878[/tags]