PLANT NAMES 25 



use very often, either through ignorance or wilful- 

 ness, disregarded classical usage. Proper names 

 sometimes underwent strange transformations to 

 fit them for international use. One does not, for 

 example, at once perceive that Stransvcesia com- 

 memorates Mr. Strangways, but the pronunciation 

 of this latter name would prove a serious difficulty 

 to the botanists of many foreign countries. It is, 

 however, easier to criticize what our predecessors 

 have done than to change it, so we must just accept 

 it. It is an accepted convention in modern times 

 that the Greek u should be transliterated into y ; 

 thus, we write and pronounce polu as poly. It is 

 now becoming usual to drop the diphthongs cb and 

 <^, and to write Spirea, Crategus, and Peony. 



The question of the gender of plants is a puzzling 

 one. At an early stage in the development of 

 language, when the untutored imagination of our 

 forefathers endowed inanimate objects with life, 

 genders were introduced into substantive words and 

 their qualifying adjectives to indicate sex. Objects 

 possessed of strength and majesty were regarded as 

 masculine, while those characterized by grace, 

 tenderness, and gentleness were made feminine. 

 Thus the Greeks and Romans called the sun " he " 

 and the moon " she." An object with changing 

 moods, like the sea, sometimes strong and fierce, 

 sometimes playful and smiling, was neuter. The 

 instinct of sexual affection often determined gender. 

 Thus, sailors and engineers, who control and get 

 fond of their ships and their engines, call them 



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