856 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
February 9. 
THE HARDY FRUIT QUESTION. 
As it is my intention to run over this subject again’ 
at intervals, a desire appearing to exist to that effect—if 
we may judge by Mr. Fish’s letter, and other applica¬ 
tions—in doing so, instead of grappling with the ques¬ 
tion in the abstract, it will be well to analyse it a little, 
and let the several divisions representing main points 
of culture have separate attention. This will bo found 
by far the most desirable course, as the young gardener, 
or amateur, who wishes to take up the subject in earnest, 
will have an opportunity, such as young folks have with 
geographical puzzles, of studying each in its own in¬ 
trinsic character, and then of learning to “ dove-tail” 
them all together in order to make a whole. 
The question of Stocks is one which may be fairly 
investigated, but not thoroughly settled by any man. 
A vast difference of opinion exists, and there is some ground 
for it, and I much fear, that until every Pear we have, 
or receive, is fairly tried on both stocks, under proper 
circumstances, nothing sufficiently conclusive will 
be found. Nothing but here and there an isolated fact, 
all very well in itself, but contributing little towards 
such a system as would satisfy an ardent fruitist or a 
man of science. 
Here, perhaps, I may be pardoned for stepping aside 
for a moment, and suggesting the propriety of having 
some public garden, in a central spot, devoted to 
experiments of this kind. The Horticultural Society 
of London has done much towards settling the no¬ 
menclature of fruit, but it would appear that such 
matters as I here suggest would carry them wide of their 
objects, and, indeed, prove too much for their ma¬ 
chinery. Moreover, I should dispute their situation for 
such a trial. Pears and other tender fruits, proved to 
succeed there, might fail, under similar circumstances, 
when tried in our more northern parts. I would rather 
suggest a midland situation—say within a score miles of 
Birmingham, and rather on the north side than the 
south. Fruits well proved here would be eligible for 
any part of England, and most of our better Scotch and 
Irish climates ; the locality selected would be a guarantee 
to those placed under inferior conditions, and would 
inspire the public with more confidence. 
As it is, nothing is more common in the north than 
to hear people say, “ Recommended by the Londoners; 
yes, but we have not the London climate.” For when 
they come to hear talk of the Fig-trees of Worthing, 
Lancing, and the neighbourhood, thriving like a Goose¬ 
berry bush, whilst they can scarcely grow them in the 
hot corner of a south wall, they naturally conclude that 
the southerns must possess immense advantages in 
point of climate. 
In such a garden as that selected, the question of 
i “ stocks ” should be pushed to its utmost; the influence 
of soils differing much in texture ascertained; the dif- 
' ferent modes of training well illustrated; and all kinds 
1 of protection principles carried out, in order to establish 
as mucji success and economy of application as possible. 
Now, such things would, I conceive, amply repay the 
fruit-growers of Britain, and I have little doubt, that 
; with some ingenuity, such a garden might be made 
self-supporting after the first outlay. In such a garden 
j (speaking now of Pears) I would make stations of 
about four feet square for Pears of every kind; one 
class of stations should be a strong loam; the second a 
light or sandy loam; and the third a fat, dark soil, of 
neither character exactly—a sort of alluvium—and this 
I would obtain by blending thoroughly such things as 
pond-mud, ditchings, furrowings, old leaf-soil, peat, or 
any debris of rotten vegetables, with a good deal of 
sand—all these materials well broken down, mellowed, 
and thoroughly mixed ; the latter intended for Pears on 
the Quince, for in such a prepared station, I have grown 
the D’Aremberg Pear of higher flavour on a Quince 
stock than those on the wall. 
In thus pursuing the Pear question, some may want 
to know why all this fuss should be made as to trials. 
I will tell them, or, at least, give an opinion why. I 
have repeatedly urged, in the columns of The Cottage 
Gardener, that those who would give the Quince stock 
a fair and honest trial should start on what, for the 
present, I may term a common-sense foundation. The 
soil in which they are grown should, at least, be such as 
the Quince, in its own nature, and ungrafted, would 
delight in. Surely, no man of any standing in horti¬ 
culture will deny the reasonableness of this position: 
to hunt for arguments to prove this were surely a work 
of supererogation. Well, then, there next arises the 
whys and wherefores of light and adhesive loams, and 
this, almost before I can explain, will be tolerably 
obvious to most of our readers. Soils, we know, vary 
exceedingly in different quarters; and although the 
chemist may so highly simplify matters in his laboratory 
as to appear to bring all the great facts connected with 
cultural matters into the compass of a nutshell, by the 
use of such highly concentrated terms as clay, chalk, 
sand, humus, &c., yet, only exchange his blowpipe, cru¬ 
cible, &c., for a spade and a wheelbarrow, and see what 
a quandary he will be in. 
Looking apart from so grave a subject, we all know 
what strangely contradictory reports meet us on all 
sides about fruits, more especially Pears. We do, also, 
know that Pears crack during their swelling; that they 
sometimes ripen prematurely—sometimes are so tardy 
in this act as to become more like our Derby Spa Pears, 
such beauties as the tourist may see, but not taste, at 
the far-famed Matlock baths. 
Now, it is not fair, surely, to charge all this on pecu¬ 
liarity of climate; this alone cannot account for it, inas¬ 
much as I have repeatedly known the most contradictory 
results from gardens within a score miles of each other. 
Neither can it be peculiarity of site alone, nor compara¬ 
tive elevation; at least, so I have found it, although I by 
no means deny a modicum influence to all these things. 
I would, however, not beg the question here. I do not 
wish to give a preponderance to the question of soil; I 
merely wish to force it on public notice for awhile. Ad¬ 
mitting, then, that a trial, as suggested, would be of ser¬ 
vice, it will be plain that two leading principles in the 
way of soils must be well represented, viz , adhesive 
loams, and light, or sandy loam; and grant with this, tho 
reasonableness of allowing the Quince stock its own 
element, and I have the case I felt desirous to make out 
when I began this paper. 
I do verily believe, then, that, although my good 
friend, Mr. Beaton, has almost forced a recantation on me 
in a this year’s Cottage Gardener, as to the Quince 
stock, yet I must beg respectfully to assure him, that I 
must still consider the question of stock an open ques¬ 
tion; inasmuch as we have, since the days of our child¬ 
hood, frequently met with Pears of very superior cha¬ 
racter from the Quince stock; and, although, through 
force of circumstances, this same Quince may have been 
either overrated, or grievously misunderstood, yet this, 
in the minds of wide-thinking men, may by no means 
force a conclusion. Indeed, as to the question of stocks, 
“in the lump,” who shall undertake to say that our 
grafting and budding systems, as performed by the ordi¬ 
nary routine, are worthy of the age we live in? The 
fact is, the knowledge of the most practical, or, if you 
will, theoretical of men, by no means satisfies himself; 
he knows well that this branch of horticultural lore is 
much in the rear of other portions of gardening, inas¬ 
much as we still seem confined to the rules of our grand- 
sires. We are all on a devious track, where doubtful ; 
foot-prints alone may be seen to guide us; and to these, j 
