It will not restore the dead tree to life, and all reproach on the poor thing who cut down the tree will do no good now. But it must have some influence on others who might be in the atmosphere of a similar evil spirit, to know how the intelligent community regards such a dalliance with a demon, and for this reason we give the following from the January American Agriculturist:

"At Laurel Hill Cemetery, in, or near Philadelphia, there were two Cedars of Lebanon, each some 50 feet high, and well known to lov. ers of trees as among the finest specimens o of this Cedar in the country. We learn from a late Gardener's Monthly that one of these trees were cut down ! And why? Because the tree was in the way, it interfered with the reading of the inscription on some paltry gravestone or monument! We say ' paltry,' with no reference to the particular handful of dust that the stone may for a few years mark, but any monument whatever, by the side of such a tree is a miserably paltry affair. A few dollars and a few day's work may restore a gravestone or a monument; whatever lettering there may be - of no possible use to the dead, and only flattering the vanity of the living who put it there - could be easily replaced. But that tree ! The miserable marble thing of to-day would sink into utter insignificance before any tree 50 feet in height - but before a Cedar of Lebanon of 50 feet, before any Cedar of Lebanon, how miserably paltry seems any work of man. It is well to be charitable, and assume, difficult as it may be, that this person knew no better.

Could he have known that the very ancestors of this tree are now regarded as among ' the most renowned natural monuments of the universe:' that they furnished Solomon wood for the Temple; that this very tree descended from those mentioned all through Sacred Historv; had he known that to this day even the Arabs hold the ancestors of this tree as sacred, could he have cut down a Cedar of Lebanon, as if it were a used up telegraph pole? This tree would no doubt, live for centuries after the elements had obliterated the letters chiseled into the slab or monument; centuries after the miserable piece of carbonate of lime had crumbled away; centuries after the memory of the dead whose monument was to be preserved; and centuries after the memory of the preserver of the monument had passed away, would this Cedar of Lebanon have stood, and been an object of interest and admiration, - but it was in the way of somebody's head-stone, and was cut down !"