THE CULTURE OF FUCHSIA SERRATIFOLIA. 
77 
THE CULTURE OE FUCHSIA SERRATIFOLIA. 
f T is somewhat extraordinary, yet notorious, that this princely Fuchsia, although grown in most 
plant establishments, is more noted for leaves than for blossoms; at least, I have seldom seen it in 
the perfection of which it is in reality capable ; that is to say, a majestic shrub of some eight to ten feet 
high, possessing a full, bold, and prepossessing outline, and laden with its gorgeous lubes from the 
surface of the soil to the very points of every shoot. 
We have two or three huge plants in tubs or large pots here, answering fully the above descrip¬ 
tion, and one has been equally fine for three years ; thus proving a settled and durable habit. Now, 
in my opinion, this plant, in its general treatment, is a pretty good illustration of the old adage, 
“ killed with kindness.” It is notorious to most of our practical men, that no inconsiderable portion 
of our plants, derived from climes where solar light, heat, moisture, &c., exist in a somewhat different 
ratio to each other as compared with Britain, are, in spite of the advancements of modern science, and 
the most earnest practice, compelled to assume a kind of anomalism or contrariety of character which 
does not belong to them in their native clime. Hence our “ leggy” plants, or “ drawn,” as gardeners 
term them. 
The subjecting some plants to an undue excitability, too, at improper periods,—plants which really 
enjoy a periodical rest in their own climate,—is another fertile source of weakly or over-leafy specimens; 
and the plant in question is, as far as I have observed it, an instance of this. It frequently happens 
that gardeners in the country, whose main business is to grow the substantial of a family the year 
round, are both short of structures and short of heat to what buildings they do possess. The necessary 
consequence is, that numbers of plants which, in the plant-houses about the metropolis, are taken as 
much care of in winter as in summer, are by such men “ crammed away” in the back parts of 
vineries, where, it is almost needless to observe, they are sure to suffer neglect, not by choice but 
necessity. Now, it turns out that this kind of treatment, exceedingly injurious to many a plant, is as 
well suited to others; and if gardeners in general, thus situated, could be prevailed on to give lists of 
those things (from the experience of years) which had been successfully cultivated under such neces¬ 
sities, it would at once show what plants had naturally been injured with kindness, and would even 
teach our plantsmen a lesson. 
The fine plants I have here alluded to have, indeed, been annually subjected to this kind of treat¬ 
ment, at first through necessity, and now through choice and system. Whilst they were a novelty, 1 
used to keep them warm (as gardeners say) all the year, and the only reward was abundance of the 
most luxuriant foliage; but few blossoms. Their present condition and treatment is this :—The large 
specimens are composed of one strong and woody main stem, and several subordinate ones ; all, how¬ 
ever, of sound and matured character: that is to say, wood of some four or five years old, firm, and 
possessing a shelling character of bark, which appears as though it would fain ape that of some of our 
timber trees. When profuse blossoming is past, which, with us, happens about Christmas, they are 
allowed to sink into a kind of vegetable dishabille, which would greatly alarm any young gentleman 
taking his first lessons in horticultural matters; they are supplied with water in a most niggardly 
way, thrust away into any corner in-doors, where frost and a coaxing temperature are alike unknown, 
and the consequence is, they cast almost every leaf. And now, I have no doubt, the necessary amount 
of solidification becomes confirmed, through the total absence of all exciting or stimulating causes; 
there is no expenditure of the vital action for many weeks, and our rustic, uncouth, and ill-used 
Fuchsia wakes, in due time, like a giant refreshed. I must now beg the reader to take a kind of 
magical bound over some six or eight weeks, when a thorough reversal of practice takes place. They 
are now tumbled out of their tubs or pots with little ceremony; aportion of the loosened soil dislodged, 
and re-potted in the very same box or pot again; in fact, what gardeners term a partial disrooting is 
practised. Thenceforward, the plants are “ set to work;” they are introduced to any warm corner in 
any house which happens to be at liberty; perhaps the Peach-house, or it may be a Vinery, only 
taking care to secure not only warmth but atmospheric moisture. The plant now is speedily all 
