ir names, by simple lips, can be pleasantly said, or sung, in this
order, the two first only being a little difficult to get over.

1 2 3 4

Roof-foil, Lucy, Pea, Pink,
Rock-foil, Blue-bell, Pansy, Peach,
Primrose. Bindweed. Daisy. Rose.

Which even in their Latin magniloquence will not be too terrible, namely,--

1 2 3 4

Stella, Lucia, Alata, Clarissa,
Francesca, Campanula, Viola, Persica,
Primula. Convoluta. Margarita. Rosa.

22. I do not care much to assert or debate my reasons for the changes of
nomenclature made in this list. The {145} most gratuitous is that of 'Lucy'
for 'Gentian,' because the King of Macedon, from whom the flower has been
so long named, was by no means a person deserving of so consecrated memory.
I conceive no excuse needed for rejecting Caryophyll, one of the crudest
and absurdest words ever coined by unscholarly men of science; or
Papilionaceae, which is unendurably long for pease; and when we are now
writing Latin, in a sentimental temper, and wish to say that we gathered a
daisy, we shall not any more be compelled to write that we gathered a
'Bellidem perennem,' or, an 'Oculum Diei.'

I take the pure Latin form, Margarita, instead of Margareta, in memory of
Margherita of Cortona,[40] as well as of the great saint: also the tiny
scatterings and sparklings of the daisy on the turf may remind us of the
old use of the word 'Margaritae,' for the minute particles of the Host
sprinkled on the patina--"Has particulas [Greek: meridas] vocat
Euchologium, [Greek: margaritas] Liturgia Chrysostomi."[41] My young German
readers will, I hope, call the flower Gretschen,--unless they would uproot
the daisies of the Rhine, lest French girls should also count their
love-lots by the Marguerite. I must be so ungracious to my fair young
readers, however, as to warn them that this trial of their lovers is a very
favourable one, for, in nine blossoms out of {146} ten, the leaves of the
Marguerite are odd, so that, if they are only gracious enough to begin with
the supposition that he loves them, they must needs end in the conviction
of it.

23. I am concerned, however, for the present, only with my first or golden
order, of which the Roof-foil, or house-leek, is called in present botany,
Sedum, 'the squatter,' because of its way of fastening itself down on