98 
THE GARDEN MAGAZINE 
March, 1917 
botany and horticulture. In 1867 De Can- 
dolle presented to the International Botanical 
Congress at Paris a code of rules to be fol- 
lowed in making names. Naturally a vital 
feature was the preservation of the oldest 
name. Continental botanists followed this 
“Paris Code,” in a majority; but in Britain 
more attention was given to what is known as 
the “ Kew Rules.” 
In 1892 the Botanical Club of the Amer- 
ican Association for the Advancement of 
Science made a short code, variously amended 
until it was issued in amplified form as the 
“Philadelphia Code.” Several other organi- 
zations tried for improvements which should 
meet general favor, until in 1905 there came 
from the International Botanical Congress 
in Vienna what is known as the “ International 
Rules” or “Vienna Code.” Americans ob- 
jected to it and advocated the “Philadelphia 
Code,” now often known as the “American 
Code.” 
Of course there are interesting objections 
to both codes, but their merits, and the desir- 
ability of uniformity, have so firmly estab- 
lished them that it would seem that no varia- 
tions from them can be successfully promul- 
gated. It is of course very desirable that the 
differences between these two codes may be 
harmonized so that one system may be uni- 
versally followed in making plant names. A 
good comparison of the name variations af- 
forded by these two most prominent systems 
is between the 7th edition of Gray’s “Manual” 
and the 2nd edition of Britton’s “Manual.” 
The first uses the “International Rules” and 
the second the “ Philadelphia Code.” 
It is apparent that even with one system of 
rules universally approved, there would remain 
some possibilities of varieties. The variabil- 
ity of plants themselves has led to trouble 
which no code of rules could obviate. Botan- 
ists have more than once been misled even 
to the extent of using the same name for dif- 
ferent plants; and often different names have 
been applied to the same plant by some acci- 
dent or for other usually poor reasons. This 
leads directly to the common practice in 
science of following the name with the name 
of the botanist who was the author of the 
name, thus — Centaurea Cyanus (Linn). Of 
course the latter is omitted in current practice, 
but becomes important in accurate work. 
Knowing the author one can trace back to his 
works, or perhaps to his herbarium, and thus 
reach a degree of accuracy in identification 
not easy or indeed possible otherwise, because 
of the confusing elements which have been 
described. 
Latin is used, according to the rules, for 
descriptive terms. Other names are in the 
vulgar tongue, usually, and are not translated 
when transferred to other languages. Latin 
is obviously appropriate for this purpose, al- 
though it offers some difficulties to people to 
whom it is unfamiliar. It is a common delu- 
sion that professional horticulturists are 
fond of Latin names and like to display them 
before novices. The truth is different. Ex- 
perts like to use popular names and beginners 
sometimes affect Latin names. The old 
stager says Japan Honeysuckle, Dogwood and 
Redbud; it is the amateur, typically, to whom 
these names are less familiar. 
At the same time to a florist or a gardener 
brought up with plants, Latin names are easy. 
A man may speak broken English or poor 
English and not halt over the specific name of 
a plant. The wider public, however, may take 
makeshifts or may go stumhlingly, and may 
never realize what a wealth of real human in- 
terest and vitality may underlie what appears 
to be only a dull though necessary operation. 
It does not take much study to uncover this — 
and to a plant lover the resulting pleasure is 
worth the trouble. 
Of course improvements seem possible. 
It is hard for instance for a distracted amateur 
to see why we should have ruber, rubra, 
cardinalis, coccinnea, fulgens, and splendens 
all meaning red species. Doubtless some of 
these words mean different reds when used 
strictly, but it is not so in the practice here 
considered. Likewise there are alba, albida, 
albus, blanda, nivea, niveus, and candidum 
for white; coerulea, azurea, violacea, and coe- 
lestina for blue; and aureum, flava, luteus, 
flavum and sulphurea for yellow. Size is 
LINNAEUS 
Carl von Linne, the Swedish botanist, born 1707, died 
1778, is called the Father of Modem Botany. He it 
was who brought order out of chaos indeed by the intro- 
duction of his system of naming plants with two words — 
one generic and the other specific. Before the time of 
Linnaeus, the name by which he is usually known, plant 
names were descriptive titles without any system or 
without showing the relationship of species within a genus. 
Linnaeus was educated as a physician and became so 
entranced in studies of natural history that he practically 
abandoned medicine, until his later years, becoming in- 
stead a professor of botany, but in his time, botany and 
medicine were nearly always closely united. He did not 
confine his attention only to botany, but he also classified 
animal life. 
He travelled largely through the countries of Europe 
and published a great many papers and books. His 
collections and library were sold at his death to Sir 
J. E. Smith, the first President of the Linnaean 
Society of London, and in that way became finally the 
property of the Society itself, in whose library they now 
stand together with many manuscripts. 
His father had intended to train him as a priest and was 
so disappointed at his son’s enthusiasm in natural history 
that he finally proposed to apprentice him to a trade, and 
it was through the interest of a physician that he was 
brought into active association with his chosen field. 
He became Professor of Botany at Upsala, having at- 
tracted the attention of Rudbeck, the then professor. 
Linnaeus had previously applied for the position of gardener 
in that institution. In 1737 he published his “Genera 
Plantarum’’ which is considered to be the starting point in 
modern systematic botany. At this time he held a chair 
in the University of Amsterdam. Linnaeus, in his travels 
as a botanist, visited France and England, and in September 
1738 he returned to Stockholm and started to practice 
medicine. In 1741 he was appointed to the Chair of Medi- 
cine at Upsala but resigned it to take the Chair of Botany. 
In 1753 he published “Species Plantarum” in which he 
listed all the species of plants with which he had acquaint- 
ance. His lectures were attended by great numbers of 
students and he was given the Patent of Nobility in 1761. 
He died January 10, 1778, at Upsala, and was buried in the 
Cathedral there. 
The Linnian system of classification of plants was based 
on the numbers of the stamens and the pistils of the flower 
— artificial, but thoroughly practical, and it served its 
purpose. He was an indefatigable worker and the im- 
pression that he has left on natural history can never be 
effaced. 
In the above picture Linnaeus is shown wearing in the 
coat lapel a sprig of twin flower, Linnaea, in which his 
name is commemorated — a small, almost insignificant 
plant. It was named after him at his own request as 
being his favorite flower. 
major or nana, majus or nanus. “Common” 
species are officinalis, vulgaris or hortensis. 
Fragrance is indicated by fragrans, odorata, 
moschata, odoratissima and suaveolens. Tex- 
ture is shown by pubescens, tomentosa, mollis, 
villosa, hirsuta, rugosa and spinossissima. 
While these names are numerous, yet is there 
not a pleasure in them after they become 
familiar enough to be easy steps? 
Doubtless there are plant names disagree- 
able to everyone — yet sometimes what one per- 
son finds ugly may please another. It is best 
to tolerate the bad names for the sake of a sys- 
tem which alsoyields so much that is delightful. 
There is little objection to Heddewigii as a part 
of a flower name, but what should be done 
with thenameof the Polish botanist which leads 
to Tachichatchewia — assuming of course that 
you are an English speaking person. 
Botanists often commemorate achievements 
and pay compliments and in this practice 
comes names like Brugmansia or Bougain- 
villea. De Bougainville was a French naviga- 
tor who died in 1811. A combination of two 
names is in Neonicholsonia Watsonnii. Nichol- 
son was director at Kew Gardens and thus in 
one species of a genus of plants named in his 
honor, courtesy is also extended to his suc- 
cessor. A very curious instance of plant 
naming comes from the great Linne^us. He 
had a friend, a Swedish Bishop John Bro- 
wall, for whom he named the pretty little blue 
Browallia. One species was Browallia elata or 
elatior in token of his pleasure at their friend- 
ship. Later the intimacy waned and he named 
another species Browallia demissa — while still 
another was called Browallia alienata in token 
of a complete separation. 
Every country has its vernacular names — 
mostly appropriate and pleasing. Chiono- 
doxa, a compound Greek word, becomes by- 
mere translation Glory-of-the-Snow to English 
speaking people. But invention in this direc- 
tion is not so active as formerly. Surely no 
one would use the name Eschscholtzia if it 
could be avoided, yet it is so old and popular 
it seems almost an old fashioned flower, and 
California Poppy does not gain in popularity. 
Apparently the chief reason why common 
names do not appear as formerly is that the 
present botanical systems speedily, accurately 
and universally identify a plant. In earlier 
times the botanical name came after the 
common name, and it may have had no wider 
acceptance or approval. Thus it would have 
no such importance as it has to-day, and the 
common name had its chance to live. Some 
old common names were applied to two or 
more plants as Gilliflower, Fair Maids of 
France, Virgin’s Bower and Bachelor’s But- 
tons. Some common names seem full of the 
delight of generations of men, as Heart’s Ease, 
Forget-Me-Not, Burning-bush or Baby’s- 
breath. Sometimes a liking for nicknames is 
detected, as when Love-in-a-Mist is also 
Devil-in-a-Bush, or Bleeding Hearts is Dutch- 
man’s Breeches. Common names are diffi- 
cult to invent offhand — the best ones seem the 
product of generations. The competition 
of botanical names is so much stronger than 
formerly that there is danger of losing good 
common names. More and more are Lark- 
spurs called Delphiniums; Monkshoods, Aconi- 
tums; and Columbines, Aquilegias. 
There is room for both. The old common 
names should be kept. Much may be done if 
books and magazines will use them when possi- 
ble — adding them when botanical names are im- 
portant. Seedsmen and nurserymen can help 
by giving both names. Some gardening books 
also reach out in this direction, as when in a 
