114 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
November 20. 
arouncl the outsides of where the charcoal had been 
burned. Thousands must have noticed the same fact. 
The inference of obtaining similar results in cultivation 
seems almost intuitive, but who of the thousands made 
it? How very simple our greatest discoveries and im¬ 
provements look after they are known. But for the 
experiments at Munich, and the shrewd calculating in¬ 
ductive philosophy of a Barnes, our gardens and potting- 
benclies might, for years to come, have been destitute alike 
of the nodules of charcoal and the rough made-for-the- 
moment compost, which has so much changed the mode 
of culture, and rendered the superintendent and posses¬ 
sor of plants more independent of temporary undue 
attention from the water pail. 
Upon the reasons why charcoal exercises such benefi¬ 
cial influences, I am not learned enough to enter. 
Philosophers are not even agreed. But a result is no 
less a result, though there may be disagreement as to 
the mode in which a seen cause produces a seen effect. 
That charcoal is antiseptic, we know—that it decom¬ 
poses very slowly in any circumstances, and in any 
times, but more quickly when in a state of powder, 
moisture applied, and in contact with the roots of plants, 
than when in larger pieces and kept dry, is true —that it 
absorbs carbonic acid and other gases from the atmos¬ 
phere, and when in a rough state especially, neither 
changing much the character of the gases, nor being 
changed itself, but parting with them, though in general 
circumstances more slowly than it absorbed them, is 
likely —that it absorbs moisture very freely when fresh, 
and rather freely at all times, and parts with it more 
slowly than it receives it, is certain —that it is one of the 
lightest substances of a porous nature we know, and 
when placed in a pot among soil, almost incapable of 
| becoming so wet as to be hurtful, or, unless under great 
carelessness, so dry as to be injurious, is equally certain. 
Leaving, therefore, the chemical question to the 
chemists, and dealing only with the mechanical, we find 
that, used with prudence and moderation, (for it is possi¬ 
ble to have too much of a good thing) when finely 
i divided, owing to its antiseptic and slowly decomposing, 
and thus slowly yielding of carbon, properties, either by 
j itself or mixed with sand, or sandy soil, it is most useful 
j in propagating, and that owing to its lightness and 
j porosity, and absorbing of moisture, but not in excess, 
it is a most valuable mechanical agent in potting, 
rendering stiff soils sufficiently open to allow water and 
air freely to percolate, and rendering a very light soil 
j more retentive of moisture than it would naturally be. 
| Also, for the mere purpose of drainage, we find that 
rough pieces in the bottom of the pots are just as 
! effectual as broken pots and pobbles, while in large 
specimens, the lightness, when moving often has to 
be resorted to, is no mean consideration, as even when 
saturated with moisture, there is no comparison in 
weight between it and pebbles and crocks. For a 
number of years, my use of charcoal, in a fine and 
rough state, has been commensurate with the limited 
supply I could obtain by charring all manner of rubbish 
I or prunings. A condemned tree, or even a limb, was 
carefully kept until the season of winter, for affording 
charcoal in lumps, for though by no means the best 
period for charring, it is the best for us, so far as time 
and opportunity are concerned. As in the use of it, 
however clear the way, I sometimes got cast in an ugly 
pitfall, I will shortly state, as so many guide-posts, the 
circumstances in which I found its application the most 
satisfactory. 
First, as respects propagation. I lately stated that 
the person who was near a roadside, might contrive 
from that roadside to get soil that would grow the 
greater part of plants grown in windows and small 
greenhouses. The washing of that road-drift would 
furnish fine, pure, gritty sand for propagating purposes, 
almost equal to that sold about London, and elsewhere, 
as pure silver sand; the sand thus procured near homo j 
being good, in proportion to the quantity of stones on ) 
the road worn down by the traffic. For the propagating ; 
of almost countless numbers of soft-wooded plants every 
spring, I have found nothing equal to a third of light 
loam, a third of sandy road-drift, and a third of small 
charcoal, from which the finer dust was excluded by a 
fine sieve,—the charcoal averaging from half the size of 
a common pea, to less than that of the head of a pin. 
Over this is frequently thrown the slightest dusting of 
fine sand, just to prevent the air too freely entering. 
In such circumstances, the cuttings not only strike 
freely, but continue in health a long period, and main¬ 
tain a stubby character and abundance of roots, when 
it does not suit your convenience quickly either to pot 
or plant them singly. When much more sand was 
used, the compost for these kinds of plants was apt to 
become too dense, and any extra moisture was very apt 
to cause the cuttings to mould and damp at the surface. 
When more charcoal was used, the cuttings generally 
struck root sooner; but if kept long in the striking pots, 
they assumed a rather unhealthy appearance, whilst the 
fibres, instead of being robust, became weak, slender, 
and attenuated, with the ends apparently decaying. In 
trying this mode, therefore, it is safer to have less of the 
charcoal than more, and, secondly, care must be taken 
that ashes form no part of the charcoal. Beginners, 
instead of taking the dust from a heap of their own 
burning, had better take some pieces,—it matters not 
how small if well burned through—and break them tor 
use, as they then will be certain they have no blackened 
ashes, which would, in most cases, contain too much 
potash to be safe. I was going to write every case, but 
that would not be correct, as some things will grow in a 
considerable portion of ashes. 
Secondly, in propagating such soft-wooded plants in 
autumn, to stand the winter in the cuttingpots, less 
charcoal must be mixed with the compost,—about a 
fifth will be very serviceable; but more attention must 
be paid to drainage, and for this purpose, rough char¬ 
coal may well form a considerable item. During the 
winter, if you have no means of dispelling the damp in 
dull, foggy weather by fire, or if the case should be 
opposite, your plants in the cutting-pots should stand in 
the dry air of a parlour or sitting-room ; in either case, 
scattering such small, but not dusty charcoal, on the 
surface of the pot, and among the bases of the tender 
stems, will be a security from danger. In either case, 
pots otherwise similar, and treated alike, those that were 
charcoaled, were safe—those that were not, were more 
or less injured. Without the charcoaling, more care and 
attention was required to keep them equally healthy. 
Thirdly. In striking hard-wooded plants from cuttings, 
I have not found much difference when using pure sand 
alone, and sand with about a third of fine charcoal. I 
have found the importance in either case of having a 
layer above plenty of drainage, consisting of compost, 
similar to that in which the plant delights most, but 
more light. As a whole, and taking the average of a 
great many cases, the pots with the charcoal struck 
soonest, but unless there was an inch or more of com- j 
post beneath the mere striking medium, they required to ; 
be potted sooner. This seems to be the reason why j 
there are so many failures with striking plants in j 
charcoal only. After giving the matter a fair trial, I j 
now seldom resort to it, because what was gained in j 
time, was too frequently lost from future carelessness j 
and procrastination. In almost every case tried by me, | 
the rooting process w r as expedited in the charcoal, and 
the smaller it was, the quicker were roots formed, but 
in almost every instance, the plants became unhealthy, 
if not quickly potted. I pretend not to assign a reason. 
I do not say that others have experienced the same as I 
