THE Fuchsia is beyond doubt one of the most beautiful of our familiar garden flowers. Now, everybody knows how beautiful it is, and as gilding refined gold is a wasteful excess, we solemnly promise not to waste another word in general remarks on that matter. But of its interest? It has no place in history, and no poet of renown has written an ode in its honour. No. But it represents the floral wealth of certain of the richest and poorest parts of the earth's surface. It extends as a genus along the Pacific sea-board of South America, from sunny Cuenca to the cold and cloudy Falkland Islands, and if aided with just a little warmth would no doubt run into the Land of Desolation, and compete for supremacy as a vegetable curiosity with that nondescript thing the Kerguelen cabbage. But it loves a land of luxury nevertheless, for we meet with thickets of fuchsias, like thickets of bracken, only a million times more glorious, in the rainy parts of Brazil, and Peru, and Mexico, and Venezuela, and Guatemala, and learn therefrom that the plant does not disdain warmth, and is decidedly fond of moisture. It is in no respect a wall flower, for it simply cannot live on a dry crust, and so the key to the cultivation of the fuchsia is to provide it with a rich soil in close proximity to the water-butt. If only for one thing the fuchsia is an interesting plant, for an English cultivator, who understands it as well as any man living--Mr. Cannell, of Swanley--has declared that fuchsias should be grown exactly as radishes are, and, absurd as it may sound, it is almost exactly true. Well, to grow really tender, mild, sweet, delicate radishes, you must grow them quickly--a warm, rich, moist bed, plenty of light and air, and be quick about all the business. And this, in the concrete, is just the right rule for the fuchsia grower. Be quick about it. Put the cuttings in a moist, warm bed; put the young plants in a light and very rich soil; do not give them very much air, and be sure they have enough water; and shift them into larger and larger pots until they are as large as you require, and then let them flower, and presto! you will have fuchsias. You may call them radishes if you like, but it will be more proper to call them plums, because the double purple fuchsias are like miniature plum-trees when in flower, and the fruits of all fuchsias are eatable, and make good tarts, provided they are assisted with lemon-juice, sugar, &c. &c., for their own proper flavour is somewhat flat, green, and poverty-stricken. To grow handsome pot fuchsias is about as easy as anything in the way of first-class floriculture; but comparatively few amongst the many who put their hands to the task attain to complete success. And why do they fail? Well, sometimes through using a poor, harsh soil, but more often through exposing the plants to cold draughts, and giving insufficient water, for the fuchsia is a thirsty plant, and some of the hardier species are natives of climates that are characterised by the peculiarity that "the rain it raineth every day" and every night also.

Hence another point of interest. It is in the moist climates of Britain that we meet with the most splendid garden fuchias. In the Isle of Wight, in Dorset, Devon, Cornwall, in a few places on the Welsh coast line, and in many places in the West of Scotland the fuchsia becomes a gigantic fountain of coral drops, a genuine surprise and wonder to the noble tourist who, in London, or Norwich, or Hull, has seen the garden fuchsias make a wiry growth of one to two feet at the utmost, and look like pensioners in arrear of their pay at the best of times. The bushes in the west, more especially of the splendid Fuchsia Riccartoni, are gigantic, and one might almost say that an army could encamp in the pleasant shadow of one of them. The equable temperature of the western coast is greatly in their favour, but the humidity of the atmosphere is the chief cause of their lustiness, and the amateur florist may take the hint, and if bent on having splendid fuchsias would do well to make special arrangements with the water company. While waiting to make peace with the purveyors of drink, let him give attention to the growth of radishes, remembering that fuchsias are to be grown in nearly the same way.