944. FISHES—CENTRARCHID A. 
Then the versatile and eccentric Professor Rafinesque appeared upon the scene, and 
in rapid succession gave the small-mouthed Black Bass names enough for a whole fam- 
ily. First, he called it Bedianus achigan, being told that the Canadian voyageurs knew’ 
the fish as Vachigan. Then afterward specimens of different ‘sizes appeared as Calliurus 
punctulatus, Lepomis trifasciata, Lepomis flexuolaris, Lepomis salmonea, Lepomis notata, and 
Etheostoma calliura. Soon after Le Sueur, with a lofty scorn for Rafinesque and his ° 
doings, named specimens of different sizes, Cichla fasciata, Cichla ohiensis, and Cichla 
minima. Lastly, DeKay, in 1842, called it Centrarchus obscurus, and we hope this may be 
the last. , 
Now, the name salmoides being the oldest is, of course, the one to be adopted. But 
suppose ‘‘we stamp it out.” Is Micropterus dolomiew any better? Out with it! 
Micropterus achigan? Just as bad. I fear that the ‘‘ stamping out” process would have 
to be continued too long. You may spell it salmonoides if you like, but you cannot get 
rid of it. ) 
Now, for the large-mouthed Bass. The oldest desription we find is that of a young 
specimen from the Ohio by Rafinesque, in 1820, as Lepomis pallida. The description is 
poor enough, and not altogether correct, but the name is a happy inspiration, as good 
as salmoides is bad. Soon after (1822) Le Sueur described the same fish from Florida as 
Cichla floridana, a name which would be well enough if it were confined to the streams 
of the orange groves, but it seems rather narrow in view of the fact that the fish is 
found in Mexico and Manitoba, and every where between. 
Next, a specimen came to Cavier and Valenciennes, under the title of ‘‘ Black Bass of 
Lake Huron.” To their eyes the fish was black enough, but not a’bass, i. e., Labrax, and 
they called it Huro nigricans, the ‘‘ Black Huron,” making a new genus for it, because 
their specimen had but six dorsal spines, the last four having been broken off, leaving 
two dorsal fins. The colored figure, which they published, remained a standing puzzle 
- for some time. bo 
In De. Kirtland’s private copy of his own fishes of Ohio he had carefully drawn off 
and colored a copy of Cuvier’s figure of his Black Huron, and had all his life sought for 
such a fish in the lakes and never found it. About a year before his death Dr. Kirtland 
asked me if I had ever seen that fish or could tell him what it was, and I had the 
pleasure of informing him what the monster really was. Next, in 1854, Professor 
Agassiz, thinking that this fish in the Tennessee River could not bs the same as in Lake 
Huron, called it Grystes nobilis, a good name enough, but thirty-four years too late. In 
the same year specimens from Texas were named Grystes nuecensis by Baird and 
Girard, but the fish is found in other streams than the Rio Nueces. Then a meaty and 
excellent name, Grystes megastoma, was given by Mr. Garlick in 1857, which closes the 
American synonymy, but the disease has broken out in France again, and Messrs. 
Vaillant and Bocourt, of Paris, who ought to know better, have again described it as 
Dioplites triculti and Dioplites variabilis. The poorest business a French naturalist can 
engage in is that of describing new species of American fishes. A- good share of our 
cumbersome and confusing synonymy is due to Gallic assistance. 
Now, in 1873, Prof. Gill, in his masterly review of these species, followed the thread 
back only to Huro nigricans in 1828, and s) called the big-mouthed black bass, as he was 
bound to do, Micropterus nigricans. The names floridanus and pallidus were presumed 
by him to refer to the other species, for the reason that he had never seen a big- 
mouthed Black Bass either from the Ohio River or from Florida. In 1876 Prof. Goode 
had collected it in Florida, and so felt bound to restore Le Sueur’s name, and to call it 
