of Russia the leaves of the ordinary pear are mostly white and downy.
The great orchardist, Rivers, remarks that the pear seems to require a warm, moist climate, and that many parts of France being too hot, and most parts of England not hot enough, the island of Jersey, where a happy medium is found, is probably the most favourable situation for pears in all Europe; while it may perhaps be some surprise to the many who look on vicinity to the metropolis as incompatible with flourishing vegetation to hear that next in suitability to this sea-girt pyral paradise are the low, moist situations immediately around London, particularly near Rotherhithe, where, he says, the Jargonelle and other fine pears may be said to attain the highest possible perfection.
In what points soever the two principal members of the Pyrus family may resemble each other, most unlike are they as regards the place they have held in the estimation of man, for while poetic fancy in different ages and far-severed climes has everywhere invested the apple with so many mystic charms, no extraneous associations diffuse a halo of borrowed glory around the neglected pear, no graceful legend plants it in celestial gardens, gives it to the guardianship of god or goddess, or links its name with the adventures of the daring heroes or loving nymphs of antiquity. There are few fruits, indeed, of whose history so little is known, though it appears to have been common from time immemorial in Syria, Egypt, and Greece, passing probably from the latter country into Italy. Homer names it as forming part of the orchard of Laertes, and Virgil alludes to having received some pears from Cato, indeed 30 varieties were known to the Romans, including the singularly-named "proud pears," so called because they ripened early and would not keep long; "libralia," or pound weight pears, &c, &c.; but we may imagine that none could have been fruit of very fine quality, or they could hardly have merited Pliny's conclusive assertion that "all pears whatsoever are but heavy meat unless they be well boiled or baked." But little mention is made of the fruit in our own history, and as pear trees are often found growing wild throughout the country it is by some thought to be indigenous, while others believe it to be only native to more genial climes, and to have been first brought here by the Romans. There is no doubt that pears of some sort were eaten by our remote ancestors, though probably they were of no very excellent quality, for a very old English writer pronounces upon them a similar verdict to that of Pliny; but in the days of Henry VIII. some at least were admitted to even the royal table, since an item is found in his accounts of "2d. to an old woman who gaff the kyng peres," and another of 3s. 4d. for "wardens and medlars," the "warden," a baking pear, so named, it is said, from its keeping property, being one of our oldest known varieties, once extensively cultivated by "the monks of old." An ancient medical authority affirms that "the red warden is of great virtue conserved, roasted, or baked to quench choler;" but as it would be libellous to suppose that cloistered serenity could itself require the fruit on this account, imagination is free to picture the benevolent recluses sending round a basket of pears to any notedly fiery spirits in the neighbourhood, as modern good people might distribute a bundle of tracts.
In the time of Gerard that which stood at the head of his list as the best of all the "tame pears" then known, and which he calls the Pyrus superba sive Katherina, was no other than the little brilliant-coloured but ill-flavoured fruit which furnished one of our old poets with so charming an illustration of his mistress's beauty when he says that,—
Her cheek was like the Catherine pear,
The side that's next the sun;
