THE CEDARS OF NONSUCH 



these primitive giants, for at that time they had not 

 learned the Bermuda method of building comfort- 

 able, everlasting houses by sawing out a cellar and 

 piling it up. The intimate place of the cedar in 

 human life is indicated by the perfect suitability of 

 the fragrant, wine-colored wood for the fashioning 

 of cradles, wedding-chests and coffins, to say noth- 

 ing of ducking stools and gallows. As early as 1622 

 a law was passed to prevent complete deforestation ; 

 today one cherishes these trees like precious tapes- 

 tries or netsukes. 



There is no question of the native character of 

 the Bermuda cedar; it is found growing wild no- 

 where else in the world. But a delicate question of 

 its scientific name gives to think of the exciting laws 

 of scientific nomenclature. One hundred and sixty 

 years after Henry May of the Bonaventura was 

 saved by a cedar " barke " which he and his ship- 

 mates built in Bermuda, Linnaeus figured two 

 cedars on the same page, the first of which he called 

 Juniperus barbadensis and the second bermudiana, 

 for self-evident reasons. There is cause now to think 

 that both were specimens of the Bermuda cedar, 

 in which case the good and true meaning of language 

 must be sacrificed to give place to priority, which 

 is the handmaiden of Einstein's place-time. Yet, 

 though we laugh at calling the Bermuda cedar 

 barbadensis, there is a sound basic idea in it — the 

 necessity of uniformity in humanistic views of 

 science. 



But let us go a little way beyond Linnaeus, be- 



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