real marrow, which is whitish, and formed of radii meeting in a centre.

The eyes of insects have afforded much room for microscopic observation. The greater part of insects have not moveable eyes, which they can cover with eyelids at pleasure. In these, the eyes are immoveable, and, as they are deprived of a covering to defend them from injuries, nature has supplied this deficiency, by forming them of a kind of corneous substance, proper for resisting the shocks to which they might be exposed. But it is not in this, that the great singularity of the eyes of insects consists. By the microscope, we find these eyes are themselves divided into a prodigious multitude of others much smaller. Some flies are said to have se veral thousand eyes. In all the different species they are disposed in a different manner. The dragon fly, besides the two hemispherical excrescences on the sides, which are visible to the naked eye, has between these two other eminences, the upper and Convex surface of which is furnished with multihide of eyes. The same insect has three also in front, in the form of an obtuse and rounded cone. It is an agreeable spectacle, says Leeuwenhoek, to examine this multitude of eyes in insects; for, if the observer be in a proper position, the surrounding objects appear painted on these spherical eminences; and, by means of the microscope, they are seen multiplied, almost as many times as there are eyes, and in such a distinct manner, as can never be attained by art'.

As companions to Sir Thomas Overbury's character of a fair milkmaid, given at p. 137, the reader may take the following beautiful song, and the fair milkmaid's answer thereto :

• Continued at the end of next month's Diary: see also our last volume, p. 154.

The SHEPHERD'S SONG.

Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That vallies, groves, or hills, or field,
Or woods, and steepy mountains yield.
Where we will sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed our flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And. I will make thee beds of roses,
And then a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle,
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers, lined choicely for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.

A belt of straw, and ivy buds,
With coral clasps, and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.

Thy silver dishes for thy meat,
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning;
If these delights thy mind may movę,
Then live with me, and be my love.

The MILK-MAID'S ANSWER.

If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move,
To live with thee, and be thy love.
But time drives flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold;
Then Philomel becometh dumb,
And age complains of care to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

MARLOW.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw, and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps, and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee, and be thy love.
Why should we talk of dainties then,
Of better meat than's fit for men?
These are but vain; that's only good
Which God bath blessed, and sent for food.
But could youth last, and love stil breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need;
Then those delights my mind might move
To live with thee, and be thy love.

MARLOW.

Your doong carrie out to comfort your feeld,
And bring home such fewel as your woods yeeld;
Mow downe your medowes, which do lie lowe,
And tender herbe seeds this moneth you must sow.
Take drinke to content thee,

If thirst doe torment thee.

The simple sheepe, for shepheardes care,
Now payes him home with lambe and wool;
But some too greedy make no spare

Both fell and fleece at once to pull.

DESCRIPTION OF FRUIT TREES.
[Continued from p. 140.]

NECTARINE TREE (amygdalus persica).—Botanists allow this to be only a variety of the peach tree. It certainly is not easy for a common eye to distinguish between the two trees when they are not in a state of fructification, nor will the differences then observable authorize us to pronounce them specifically separate. The nectarine is generally a lower tree than the peach; the trunk and branches are, however, larger, besides being covered with a lighter bark. The twigs are tenderer and inclining to red. The flowers are smaller and of a darker red colour. These differences, however, are often trifling, and by no means

constant. The grand distinction is certainly in the fruit, which is smaller and rounder, with a firmer pulp and a smoother skin. It derives its classical name from the rich, racy, and nectareous flavour of its juice, which, in its highest perfection, renders it the most delicious of all European fruits, and, perhaps, surpasses that of the boasted products of hotter climes. The best sorts of nectarine are those called the Newington and the Roman. The first is a fine large fruit, of a beautiful red colour towards the sun, and of a bright yellow towards the wall; the juice is very rich; the pulp adheres closely to the stone, where it is very red; and the fruit ripens at the end of August or beginning of September. The Roman red nectarine has a deep red or purple colour towards the sun, but next the wall has a yellowish cast; the pulp is firm, adheres closely to the stone, and ripens in September. It requires a very close attention to distinguish the trees which bear the different varieties of this exquisite fruit. The same sort of trees, planted in different soils and situations, often alter their fruit so much as to deceive the best judges. See

PEACH TREE (amygdalus persica).-This, in its natural state, is a small tree, with spreading branches. It grows rapidly, but is not a long liver. There are many varieties of the fruit for which the peach tree is principally cultivated; but the trees themselves are valuable in another respect, for there are few that are more ornamental for plantations, shrubberies, and wilderness quarters, especially when placed in view of the mansion house, and in sheltered situations, where they will display their beautiful blossoms about the beginning of April, when flowers, especially upon trees, are peculiarly valuable. The variety with double flowers is the most elegant of all the ornamental trees; at least, with the exception of the almond tree, it is the most beautiful flowering tree that will live in the open air of our variable cli

mate. Its blossoms appear about three weeks later than those of the common peach, and are generally followed by some fruit, which it must be confessed is not of any value, except where the trees have been trained against sunny walls.

The most valuable kinds of peach trees are the following:-The early purple peach, the fruit of which is large, round, and externally of a fine red colour; the flesh is white, but very red at the stone. It is particularly esteemed for being full of a rich vinous-flavoured juice. The next sort we shall notice is the large or French mignon (grosse mignonne), the fruit of which is rather egg-shaped, only often swelling on one side. It has a fine external colour, a sugary juice, and a very small stone. As it ripens in the middle of August, and separates from the stone, it is allowed to be one of the finest peaches. The best method of treating this tree is to bud it into some old healthy apricot, planted in a south east aspect, and to cut away the apricot when the buds have taken and produced shoots. The belle chevreuse is an excellent bearer; the fruit is red, the flesh white, but red at the stone, from which it separates: it is very full of a rich sugary juice, and ripens at the end of August. The Chancellor has a white melting flesh, which separates from the stone, where it is of a fine red colour; the skin is thin and the juice very rich: it ripens about the end of August, and should be budded on an apricot like the mignon, as it thrives better under that treatment than upon common stocks. These are the sorts most worthy of cultivation; though in very warm situations the Catharine peach should be introduced, as it is an excellent fruit in hot summers.

An eminent gardener describes a good peach as follows: the flesh should be firm, the skin thin, next the sun of a bright red colour, and of a yellowish cast next the wall; the pulp should be very thick, yellowish, and full of high-flavoured juice. This fruit