See I Kings v.

THERE has ever been attached something peculiarly sacred and noble to the Cedars of Lebanon. They have stood as a figure for everything grand and lofty, and doubtless their use and high estimation in the building of the Temple has had much to do in originating and continuing this impression. Mr. Dore, in the scene before us, has presented a declivity of the mountain covered with groups of busy workmen, engaged in the occupation of felling and removing these magnificent trees to their floats by the seashore. The background is dim with umbrageous foliage, except in the open spaces where the laborers are hewing and trimming the fallen monarchs of the wood. The foreground is a splendidly wrought scene of busiest life. Two immense boles-evidently the chief of all their brethren-on heavy, cumbrous wheels, are being conveyed down the mountain side, and the straining labor and bustle and anxiety incident to their starting are fully brought out in the engraving. The gaily caparisoned horses are urged on or held in check by the excited men, the mounted overseers are busy with directions, and the woodmen themselves have paused in groups to watch the progress of the work. It is, perhaps, the finest landscape in the book.