October 23, 1896.] 



SCIENCE. 



589 



' ' It would surely have been worth your while to 

 visit Greece, or Asia, that you might become ac- 

 quainted with, and point out to us, the plants of the 

 antients, whose appellations you have so materially, 

 and worse than any other person, misapplied. You 

 ought to be very cautious in changing names and ap- 

 propriating them to particular genera." 



How entirely the previsions of the wise 

 old botanist have been realized, I need not 

 explain. We now know what almost all of 

 the names misapplied by Linnteus and his 

 school were meant for of old ; and when 

 some more good naturalists collect names 

 and specimens together in various parts of 

 Greece, probably very few of the ancient 

 names will rejuain unidentifiable. 



The only reply that Linnaeus could make 

 to the censures of Dillenius appears in the 

 following minutes : 



"With regard to unoccupied names in antient 

 writers, which I have adopted for other well-defined 

 genera, I learned this of you. You, moreover, long- 

 ago, pointed out to me that your own Draba, Nova 

 Fl. Genera 122, is different from the plant so called 

 by Dioscorides. " 



The retort of one sinner that his antag- 

 onist is another is no real answer. 



The comments of the British Committee 

 of 1865, on this subject, are very judicious 

 and pertinent. 



The use of mythological names for ani- 

 mals and plants is far less culpable. The 

 use of such is no worse than that of any 

 meaningless name. Sometimes, even, there 

 may be conveyed an association of ideas 

 which appeals to the imagination in a not 

 disagreeable manner. For example, Lin- 

 naeus gave the name Andromeda, after 

 the Ethiopian maid whose mother's over- 

 great boasts of the daughter's beauty made 

 her the victim of Poseidon's wrath. Lin- 

 naeus justified his procedure by a remark- 

 able play of fancy : 



" This most choice and beautiful virgin gracefully 

 erects her long and shining neck (the peduncle), her 

 face with its rosy lips (the corolla) far excelling the 

 best pigment. She kneels on the ground with her 

 feet bound (the lower part of the stem incumbent). 



surrounded with water, and fixed to a rock (a pro- 

 jecting clod), exposed to frightful dragons (frogs and 

 newts). She bends her sorrowful face (the flower) 

 towards the earth, stretches up her innocent arms 

 (the branches) toward heaven, worthy of a better 

 place and happier fate, until the welcome Perseus 

 (summer), after conquering the monster, draws her 

 out of the water and renders her a fruitful mother, 

 when she raises her head (the fruit) erect." 



The relation of the old myth to the plant 

 may be far fetched, and no other would 

 ever be likely to notice the analogy without 

 suggestion ; but at least the conceit is harm- 

 less, if not agreeable. 



The analogy that gave rise to this fanci- 

 ful description, contained in the ' Flora 

 Lapponica,' suggested itself to Linnaeus on 

 his Lapland journey : 



" The Chamsedaphne of Buxbaum was at this time 

 in its highest beauty, decorating the marshy grounds 

 in a most agreeable manner. The flowers are quite 

 blood-red before they expand, but when full grown 

 the corolla is of , flesh-color. Scarcely any painter's 

 art can so happily imitate the beauty of a fine female 

 complexion ; still less could any artificial color upon 

 the face itself bear comparison with this lovely blos- 

 som. As I contemplated it, I could not help think- 

 ing of Andromeda as described by the poets; and the 

 more I meditated upon their descriptions, the more 

 applicable they seemed to the little plant before me; 

 so that, if these writers had had it in view, they 

 could scarcely have contrived a more apposite fable. 

 Andromeda is represented by them as a virgin of most 

 exquisite and unrivalled charms ; but these charms re- 

 main in perfection only so long as she retains her vir- 

 gin purity, which is also applicable to the plant, now 

 preparing to celebrate its nuptials. This plant is al- 

 ways fixed on some little turfy hillock in the midst of 

 the swamps, as Andromeda herself was chained to a 

 rock in the sea, which bathed her feet, as the fresh 

 water does the roots of the plant. Dragons and 

 venomous serpents surrounded her, as toads and other 

 reptiles frequent the abode of her vegetable prototype, 

 and, when they pair in the spring, throw mud and 

 water over its leaves and branches. As the distressed 

 virgin cast down her blushing face through excessive 

 affliction, so does the rosy-colored flower hang its 

 head, growing paler and paler till it withers away. 

 Hence, as this plant forms a new genus, I have 

 chosen for it the name of Andromeda.'" 



DOUBLE NAMES. 



It was long the custom, when a specific 



