Of Pears, the _Bon Chrêtien_ called by English Gardeners the Bum-Gritton, the _Teton de Venus_ and the _Cuisse Madame_, three names which equally mark the country from whence they came. The last Bishop of Alais before the French Revolution visiting a Rector once who was very rich and very avaricious, gave him some gentle admonitory hint of the character he had heard of him. “_Mais Monseigneur,_” said the Man, “_il faut garder une Poire pour la soif._” “_Vous avez bien raison,_” replied the Bishop: “_prenez garde seulement qu'elle soit du bon Chrêtien._” The first Lord Camelford in one of whose letters this pun is preserved, thought it perfect. But to proceed with the nomenclature of Pears, there are the Supreme, the Bag-pipe of Anjou, the Huff Cap, the Grey Good Wife, the Goodman's Pear, the Queen's Pear, the Prince's Pear, the Marquis's Pear, the Dean's Pear, the Knave's Pear, the Pope's Pear, the Chaw Good, the Vicar, the Bishop's Thumb, the Lady's Lemon, the Lord Martin, the St. Austin, La Pastorelle and Monsieur John, the Great Onion, the Great Mouthwater, the King of Summer, the Angelic Pear,—and many others which I would rather eat than enumerate. At present the Louis Philippe holds pre-eminence. The _Propria quæ Potatibus_ will be found not less rich,—though here we perceive a lower key of invention, as adapted to a lower rank of fruit and affording a proof of Nature's Aristocracy;—here we have Red Champions, White Champions, Late Champions and English Champions, Early Manlys, Rough Reds, Smooth Yellows, Silver Skins, Pink Eyes, Golden Tags, Golden Gullens, Common Wise, Quaker Wise, Budworth's Dusters, Poor Man's Profit, Lady Queens, Drunken Landlords, Britons, Crones, Apples, Magpies, Lords, Invincibles, the Painted Lady and the Painted Lord, the Golden Dun, the Old Red Rough, and the Ox Noble; _Cum multis aliis quæ nunc perscribere longum est._ For Roses, methinks Venus, and the Fair Maid, and Flora, and Favorite, and Diana may well keep company with our old favourite the Maiden Blush. There may be too, though it were to be wished there were not, a Miss Bold, among these beautiful flowers. Nor would I object to Purple nor to Ruby, because they are significant if nothing more. But for Duchess, with double blush, methinks the characteristic and the name go ill together. The Great Mogul is as bad as the Vagrant; the Parson worse than either; and for Mount Etna, and Mount Vesuvius, it excites an explosion of anger to hear of them. Among the trees in Barbadoes, we read of Anchovy the Apple, the Bread and Cheese, or Sucking bottle, the Belly ache and the Fat Pork Tree!