Reply to the review,
inserted in the General Danish Literary Journal fourth volume,
second issue for the year 1784,
concerning the copper
engravings for
Flora Danica 15th fascicle, from page 281–296.
Copenhagen.
Printed by Christian Friderik Holm,1786.
One cannot doubt that the present reviewer is well practiced in the art of keeping fresh and healthy air in his room at all times; otherwise, it would be impossible for him to maintain a cheerful spirit after having scribbled together these unjust and immature thoughts — not only directed against a respectable man, but even against a work so highly valued by the government.
How could there be a work that satisfies everyone’s expectations? Every Flora will have its shortcomings in the eyes of certain ignoramuses: a hippiatros (horse doctor) finds in it too few herbs to cure his horses; a native gourmand searches it in vain for soup vegetables and cabbages. – The servant becomes curious and leafs through it to no avail in search of mushrooms. – The nomenclators get angry, even dangerously so like the reviewer, because they cannot at once and completely make use of the plant illustrations — like the sages of Dessau with their elementary book. Finally, the gardeners too must be given a voice; some of them might object to Flora Danica, saying that they once threw a useful herb off their cart simply because the Danish name was missing from Flora Danica — thus they assumed it was useless, since no one asked for that flower to be tied into bridal or confirmation bouquets.
For surely it is wise to draw from botany as much and as diverse a usefulness as possible — such that it heals horses, adorns the Graces, and even helps form Christians. But we would be mistaken to say that Flora Danica would only be a fine work if it fulfilled just one of these purposes.
To judge the work by such criteria is just as absurd as the student-driver who beats and flogs a field for not producing just the kind of grass his beloved little calf prefers. Flora Danica was created to place the Danes among the ranks of enlightened nations and to show that botany among us is not merely for kitchen use, but honored as one of the higher sciences. It was with such a noble goal that Conference Councillor Müller published Flora Danica. And we shall soon see that the government, by appointing just this man, achieved its purpose; but we shall also see that the reviewer would have done better to continue stitching letters onto his sampler and to practice a while longer in this art before he began stitching fool’s caps — which this review resembles. The reviewer, by the way, was quite familiar — even friendly — with a certain needle, whose ugly stitches can still be clearly traced — this needle would likely have been willing to guide him again.
The reviewer is no lover of microscopes. We assure him, however, that we do not need one to see the errors and inaccuracies in his review. They lie piled up like beams in a timberyard. One might wonder why this old review has now been brought to light again — not out of reverence for the reviewer, but to remove from the public any harmful impressions regarding a work that in no way deserves them. Long have we waited for the reviewer to retract some of the things he wrote. We hoped that while instructing others, he might learn something himself, and that by reading good books he might correct some of his faults. But we notice that the key to the library must have been lost among rakes and spades — for it was supposed to hang there by higher order.
We therefore find the reviewer here in no other company than that of Reichard and Rashness, striding proudly along the boulevard of the pufillorum [satirical invented genus of fools], preparing to enter triumphantly with his loyal guide Reichard — but just as with heroes, the victory, the triumph, and the triumphal hymn… One could easily think that connoisseurs will not withhold the honor due to the fifteenth fascicle merely because it suffered the fate of the lion — to be pelted with dust by monkeys.
Flora Danica does not need to dispel this little cloud of smoke; its honor is not obscured by it. But since the reviewer may have thrown a bit of sand into the public’s eyes, we wish briefly to show that the cries of the reviewers against Flora Danica are nothing but monkey-screeches, which move no one — for we all know that nature has given these animals no other weapons than their screeching, and that when the adversary contemptuously walks away, they continue to busy themselves by stealing the hill’s vines and fruits.
So then to our proof of Flora Danica’s merit. To the reviewer and other recent animalia scribacissima [scribbling animals] in botany, we must say that they are badly mistaken if they wish to study plants only from books and not from nature, and if they believe they can become naturalists without acquiring a long and intuitive familiarity with all the products of nature. These simple and innocent truths are absolutely necessary to begin with, before one can with any certainty draw fixed boundaries between species and varieties — for this requires knowing precisely which parts of the plant are subject to variation, and which are not.
Against these general precautions the reviewer has sinned right from the start with Plate 841. When the hallway of a house is full of monkeys, the master of the house cannot be blamed if people laugh as they enter. On page 282, the reviewer says of Plate 841:
“It seems this plant is not Bidens cernua (and yet the conclusion directly below reads: ‘it may therefore be a variety of Bidens cernua’), but it resembles Coreopsis bidens, which differs from Bidens cernua only by its radiate flowers.”
The present drawing of a specimen, which was clearly selected for this purpose, shows that the latter is not true.
Nor is it correct when the reviewer claims that the radiate flowers are the essential difference by which Coreopsis bidens is distinguished from Bidens cernua. What gives the reviewer the idea that we should believe him over nature — that trustworthy teacher who shows us that there are many individuals within one and the same species that often appear both with and without ray-flowers — as seen in the genera Chrysanthemum, Anthemis, Matricaria, and others.
To avoid long-windedness, we shall not name more species of Bidens that appear both with and without rays. A plausible explanation for this variation in Bidens cernua can be found in Leers’ excellent Flora Herbornensis (p. 186), who also observed both types of flowers on the same plant.
Should the reviewer’s students one day attempt, after his death, to revive his manner of defining species by the presence of rays, the world would be subjected to the monstrous anomaly that there would be more genera than species among the radiates. It cannot be denied that Linnaeus divides his Polygamia superflua into discoides and radiati — the name derived from what is more common — but Linnaeus had still other characteristics by which to distinguish them.
But what more could one expect from our hothouse botanists, and with them our reviewer, who pronounces judgment rapidly without knowing even the most common plants? Perhaps the reviewer could return from his error if he would apply himself diligently to the study of the discus — that part essential to determining discoid and radiate forms. And if the task appears hard, he should not be deterred — for it is necessary, and he should not think that someone is a botanist simply for chattering shallow platitudes about the plant world.
Plate 842, p. 282.Here, too, the reviewer nibbles and gnaws at the Pestilents-Rod. He bites and throws it aside, complaining about the abbreviated depiction of Tussilago petasitis, and censures it. But could the reviewer not have been a bit more reasonable here and considered that Nature is a great original, and that the more one knows her, the less one demands from art?
He would surely, in his heart, agree with us that it is difficult to depict a plant precisely in a foreshortened drawing — especially when it is large. In foreshortening, it is natural that a part of the plant’s natural appearance is lost. But since this method of abbreviation has once been adopted in Flora Danica, one is in a sense obliged to follow it — even though no one denies that it brings considerable inconvenience.
Why did the reviewer not, rather than scolding, tell us how he would have wished this plant to be more clearly and accurately drawn in abbreviated form? On that occasion, he would also have been obliged, in good conscience, to tell us whether he even knows Tussilago species as they grow wild in fields or in gardens.
He seems to have known plants only from a few gardens where perhaps the gardener in springtime covers his beds too thoroughly — thus causing the leaves of Tussilago to emerge later than they do among wild-growing ones. In such cultivated places, the illustrator was forced to draw his Tussilago without leaves. By contrast, among wild-growing ones, the leaves often emerge early enough that one can easily observe their shape.
Who, then, does not now see that Mr. C. M. [i.e. Christian Müller] had ample justification for depicting the Tussilago with leaves — yes, he even deserves praise for doing so! For although the leaves do not provide the most certain distinguishing mark, and are therefore omitted by Linnaeus, Haller, Scopoli, and others as diagnostic features for several species of Tussilago, they nevertheless very clearly help to distinguish between different species of this genus — which exhibit a blinding similarity at first glance when leafless.
That the leaf-shape, edges, etc., differ across the species, the reviewer himself does not deny. Leaves should, besides, naturally be present with the plant; otherwise, the drawing would have been incomplete. Since Mr. C. M. did not find the younger Linnaeus’ observation applicable to the specimens at hand, he did not want to have something drawn which he did not himself observe — especially something that seems to exist merely in a description and not in a drawing, where it would be extremely difficult to clearly mark these flores foeminei [female flowers] in the flower bud.
And this is all the more so because this Tussilago varies between having and not having flores foeminei in one and the same flower bud — and even more often, it is found entirely without them, as Haller observed; see Historia Stirpium Helvetiae, vol. 1, p. 61.
That the variety Asper of Sonchus oleraceus is depicted in Plate 843 finds no approval whatsoever from the reviewer; least of all had we expected such a reaction from those who everywhere cry out about the purpose Flora Danica should serve for those devoted to matters of economy.
If the Privy Councillor wishes to declare more such varieties as species, then he shall surely not lack opportunities to discover new ones.
That the Councillor has not been unlucky in this regard, nor needed such evasions, is evident from the review itself: for the reviewer himself admits that 17 new species are presented in this issue.
The Councillor did not consider Plate 843 a distinct species, but since the plant needed a name, he cited Haller and Lightfoot.
And even if he had treated it as a separate species, he would only have erred alongside Haller — and one would rather err with Haller than agree with the reviewer.
Sonchus asper is one of those varieties which can justifiably be taken as a distinct species.
Had the reviewer understood the writings of Linnaeus — and how Linnaeus gives a trivial name to a variety to allow each person to treat it as a variety or a species at their discretion — he might have concealed his ignorance.
No one should be more grateful to the Councillor for having had such a significant variety depicted than this very reviewer.
The limited botanical knowledge that shines through the review everywhere excuses the reviewer’s mistake: he errs unknowingly and without intent — a fact the following will further make evident.
We hardly dare ask the reviewer to make an effort to learn how to examine every constant variety — yet such advice might save him from committing similarly grave errors in other cases, of which the review abounds.
Both varieties were drawn by Blackwell and are certainly worthy of depiction, especially with regard to their economic usefulness.
If the reviewer wishes us to believe he possesses any knowledge of the economic value of plants, we might expect that he would know that Sonchus oleraceus var. lævis is assigned several medicinal uses, such as in spring cures for horses, etc. (see Haller, Hist. Stirp. Helv. Vol. 1, p. 10, no. 21).
For that reason, it seemed necessary to provide an illustration, so that the herb whose usefulness is praised could be recognized.
The reviewer now has a splendid opportunity to educate himself on the usefulness of varieties and their influence on economy — should he choose this summer to diligently attend the lectures of the botanical lecturer Wiborg in the Society for Civic Virtue.
On what grounds the reviewer relies on Reichard’s authority to declare this Sonchus a variety, we have been unable to find in his edition of Linnaeus’s Species Plantarum; for all we encounter there are a number of unnecessary citations — God knows whether they even belong — for otherwise everything is exactly the same as in the Swedish editions of Species Plantarum. Thus, the content belongs to Linnaeus, not to Reichard.
That the reviewer, who does not know Sagina erecta, dares — with the self-important air of a young schoolmaster — to assert that the Conference Councillor, with some closer inspection, would have found petals and styles on this plant (p. 283), is a reckless claim arising from ignorance.
Had the reviewer ever seen or known Sagina erecta, he would easily have seen that the plant depicted on Plate 845 is wholly different from the Linnæan species. But since it is listed in the register as S. erecta, the reviewer accepts it on name alone, without examining whether the figure actually corresponds to Sagina erecta as described by Linnaeus.
The Conference Councillor’s cautious note should have made him pause, but instead he assumes that the floral parts were not yet open when drawn and insists they must be present — despite never having seen the specimen from which the plate was made.
Pollich was cited by Müller because he gave the best description of Sagina erecta; the reviewer may compare Pollich with the specimen in Flora Danica to note the difference.
If the reviewer will look at the figure in Flora Danica, he will find some flowers drawn in bloom just as they appeared on the plant when it was illustrated. Had the flowers not been newly opened, the calyx would have been closed — as it always is in the Alsineae family and the Sagina species. Once fertilisation occurs, the calyx closes.
That the Conference Councillor found no petals, and yet the plant is correctly depicted, is not unusual within the Caryophyllaceae family, to which Sagina belongs. Cherleria, Sagina apetala, Sagina procumbens etc. are known both with and without petals.
Since Pollich says nothing about this, the reviewer cannot be blamed for his ignorance — Nature is a book he does not know.
May we ask whether the reviewer has ever found, after flowering, dried petals in Sagina procumbens?
Precisely the fact that the stigmas sit directly on the ovary (germen) makes it a different plant from Pollich’s, and thus his authority is irrelevant to Müller’s Sagina.
The naturalist Linnaeus divided the pistil into three parts: ovary, style, and stigma. The reviewer, however, includes only styles in what he calls the pistil — so all pistils without styles are missing, and by consequence, the plants become monoecious, dioecious, etc. — a new doctrine in botany!
As a friend, we would advise the reviewer — as a warning to himself and his pupils — to read Mr. Imbert’s Leçons Botaniques, published in Montpellier, with the sincere intent of self-improvement.
We can draw no other conclusion than that given by the reviewer’s statement: “The pistil (by misplacement or misinterpretation) is said to be missing if styles are absent.” The ovary and stigmas are clearly drawn under the lens, large enough for the reviewer to see — had he not gotten lost in the pistils.
Plate 847. Elymus arenarius.
It is readily admitted that this figure is less than ideal; but since the reviewer does not know to whom it belongs, nor why it was included, nor anything about the editorial process of Flora Danica, it would have been more proper for him to speak modestly on matters of which he is ignorant.
Had the reviewer any understanding of engraving and drawing, he could easily have judged that the current work – executed by the brother of Conference Councillor Müller – indeed surpasses Røsler’s works. This assessment we even have from impartial artists. The reviewer could therefore have readily suspected that the editor of Flora Danica may have found Plate 847 already completed.
And that is precisely the case: the drawing and copperplate for this Elymus were made during Oeder’s time and were likely intended to depict the plant at a reduced scale.
The plate had been paid for by the Private Chamber (Particulair-Kammer) before Müller took over the work. And since one and the same plant's engraving and drawing are not paid for twice from that fund, the Conference Councillor was obliged to publish it as it stood.
From this, one may judge whether the Conference Councillor deserves to be accused of lack of attention or indifference toward achieving the purpose of the work.
We will excuse the reviewer his mistake in not knowing the difference between a calyx and an involucrum – he confuses x for u.
It is the calyx that is longer, while the involucrum in Elymus arenarius is of the same length as the spikelets (spiculae) – which the reviewer could still verify in several specimens.
The reviewer’s masterful remark regarding the root of Elymus arenarius surely shields him from all murmurs doubting his profound botanical insight – namely this: that the plant possesses a radix fusiformis.Yet our efforts to discover such a root have often been in vain; we observe only some fibrous strands at the base of the stem.According to the concept of radix fusiformis as taught to us by our instructor, nothing of the sort can be found here.And we dare to challenge anyone familiar with both the technical term and this type of root: can they discover anything of the kind?
Thus, one can only conclude the following: either the reviewer understands something entirely different by radix fusiformis, which has hitherto remained unknown, or else he does not know it at all – and thus cannot even grasp the first syllabic measures of nature’s language. Yet he possesses all the more audacity to publish a judgment on a work which demands not only knowledge of the prima principia, but also that one be a thorough botanist, capable of surveying the entire plant kingdom at once.
If foreigners were to see such a review, what must they think of the state of botany in our country, where the government has for many years laboured tirelessly for the advancement of this science, and where Oeder, Zoëga, and Rottbøll have served as instructors?
The fault must lie with the reviewer, whose mind is too narrow to receive enlightenment – for some people can simply never learn.
With Festuca duriuscula, the reviewer finds himself at a loss (p. 285, Tab. 848) as to what to make of it, since he knows neither duriuscula nor rubra. So he says that it ought to be – why does he not say: it is? It never fails that in such cases he leaves himself a convenient escape route.
The Councillor of Conference expresses doubt as to whether it is rubra, but since it deviates somewhat, he assigns it to the species it most closely resembles, namely duriuscula. Let one read the Councillor’s own words and see whether they should not be interpreted as such.
The reviewer, on the other hand, asserts with his typical impetuousness – without knowing the thing in nature, and without considering that the leaves and overall habitus of Festuca rubra differ clearly from the plant depicted. We must tell the reviewer that this supposed difference cannot be drawn from that; for the leaves in the figure are the same as in rubra, namely setaceous, just as in that or most species of this genus, to varying degrees.
The habitus is the same as in several closely related species that have panicula secunda, if we understand correctly what Linnaeus means by habitus – which the reviewer may verify in his Philosophia Botanica.
That the spiculae are too large and broad is no hindrance to its being duriuscula; for anyone who has ever seen grass knows how variable these features can be.
Since the depicted duriuscula is clearly a different species, we leave it to the reviewer to exercise himself in determining to which species it belongs. How difficult it often is to judge whether a panicle is secunda in many species of this genus is well known to those who have examined plants with a botanical eye – and the reviewer himself will come to know this truth, if he takes the trouble to compare several individuals within a species, rather than clinging to a single specimen, whose name may have been given by someone else.
Tab. 859. Conference Councillor Müller has drawn Rhamnus catharticus as he found it—namely, dioecious—and so did Linnaeus, Gerard, and several other botanists.
That Grimm found it to be polygama dioica is neither surprising nor particularly rare, once one knows that such variation is not uncommon in nature. Some have even argued for abolishing these three sexual classes altogether—a step Linnaeus the Elder himself would have taken, had he lived longer.
Thus, every sincere botanist—regardless of how the debate is ultimately resolved—is obliged to depict the plant as he finds it.
That it has supposedly “fallen out of fashion” with the Councillor to include the Danish names where available, as the reviewer suggests, is a reproach that properly falls upon Stiftamtmand Oeder, who already began omitting them in the ninth fascicle, after he had, for reasons of cost, published the Nomenclator Botanicus, wherein the reviewer may find the Danish, English, French, German, and Swedish names.
Plate 852 depicts Panicum viride, not Crus galli — a mistake that occurred during the transcription of the manuscript.
The plant is so well illustrated that anyone who has seen Panicum viride could never be misled by the name in the text — except, of course, someone unfamiliar with plants, like the reviewer.
Naturally, the reviewer could not find the characteristics of Panicum crus-galli, because it is not Crus galli.
Yet he is so unfamiliar with both Panicum viride and Crus galli that he mistakes the entire figure for a plant drawn at reduced size — and nevertheless insists that it is Crus galli.
He surely would have omitted such a claim had he known either plant.
If he mistook the small stalks drawn at the base for the plant in miniature, this only further demonstrates his ignorance, since that form is entirely natural to this species of grass.
That the spicæ in Crus galli are conjugate and the rachis five-angled, the reviewer has read in Linnaeus — which does not prove that he actually knows the plant.On p. 286, with Plate 853, the reviewer makes an economic remark:That if Agrostis spica-venti, or "pig grass," is found in abundance on poor soil, it must therefore be a great weed — as if this should apply to everything that is not a cereal crop.Allow us the observation that if many such botanists and reviewers are found in a country, then they are just as harmful a weed.
Regarding Campanula rapunculus (rapunzel), the reviewer merely opines that the panicle is not sufficiently "coarctate"; had he only expressed himself so cautiously in general, he might have found excuses for his hallucinations in future.Whether a panicle is more or less expanded depends, in the case of many plants — this one included — on the degree of ripeness.
Plate 856. Phaca alpina.The reviewer’s comment on this plant reveals, throughout, the same ignorance of nature itself. The color of the teeth on the calyx is variable; one finds them both brown and green. It would have been better to judge the drawing by the plant depicted beside it, rather than by the description of some other author — for everyone describes and draws a plant as he himself finds it, not as someone else has said it to be.
The bend in the stem is often so slight, and in some individuals so imperceptible, that it cannot be considered and can never serve as a diagnostic feature. The distinguishing mark by which the reviewer claims to separate the Helvetic Phaca from the Lappish, etc., matches perfectly the rest of the botanical insight that shines forth in the review. We advise him to read Linnæus’ Philosophia Botanica diligently, and if he does not understand it, then to seek enlightenment before presuming to judge in science and determine species.
It is indeed more difficult to see such things than to compare whether letters in different books resemble one another. If one prefers the latter, then Reichard becomes a great botanist — though his entire merit consists in having published Linnæus’ Species Plantarum and introduced so many disorders into it that a man is needed to restore the work to its former state.
This great German is presumably the reviewer's model and spokesman, for hardly anyone else would have dared to make use of Reichard's edition, except a botanicoides. With countless examples one could show that the synonyms listed by Reichard often do not belong to the plants under which they appear.
The method of producing such an “improved” edition is easy: one simply takes all the Floras, and whenever the same name is found on a plant, one assigns it to the plant of that name — this method is tried and tested.
Reichard’s death was lamented, but as consolation to the printer, new botanical babblers emerge with each mild spring. And when did publishers ever lack half-educated chatterers? They follow the taste of the market.
The reviewer must be reminded that knowing plants requires more than having read the ABC or having looked at words and pictures in books. One may sweat endlessly over folios and quartos in streets and alleys, and still remain a poor naturalist and merely a learned babbler, unless one studies nature in nature’s own book.
The observation that the Siberian species is identical with the Swiss does not originate with Reichard. For Haller, in his Phaca no. 401 — which he regards as a species distinct from Phaca alpina of Linnæus — cites Gmelin and Amman as synonyms, the same authorities Linnæus places under Phaca alpina. From this, Reichard concludes that they are the same. Should the reviewer wish to have the note under this species in Reichard explained to him by someone with sound understanding, he will find that Reichard never saw either plant.
Linnæus never cited Haller’s no. 401. Should the reviewer ever have the chance to see Phaca alpina, he will find that it is by no means entirely smooth, but only so faintly hirsute that it cannot be expressed in the drawing.
Jacquin has, in his Enumeratio Stirpium Agri Vindobonensis, distinguished the plant depicted in Flora Danica from the Siberian one, and calls it frigida. It corresponds to Haller’s no. 402. From the description Jacquin provides (see loc. cit. p. 265), the reviewer might discover how it can be distinguished by certain characteristics from the Siberian species — and by no means merely by its “sluggishness,” which supposedly depends on whether the plant was cultivated on wet or dry meadow soil.
But since the Councillor did not cite this book, one could hardly expect the reviewer to have the notion to look it up there.
Plate 1857. Cucubalus Behen is here considered a variety by Councillor Müller; but the Bauhin synonym that the reviewer seeks to apply here is more like a yawn — one he shares with whoever made him yawn in the first place. Such is often the fate of transcriptions. The synonym actually belongs to Silene amæna, and for that very reason, it was excluded from the variety of Cucubalus Behen and correctly placed in the second edition of Species Plantarum, p. 596, no. 9.
Had the reviewer been capable of more than simply flipping through botanical books, and had he used Flora Svecica with the hand of a scholar rather than awkwardly fumbling through it, he would have seen that Linnæus’s mistake was already corrected in the cited book on p. 464.
Plate 858. Spergula laricina — whether Linnaeus’s Spergula laricina is a variety of Sagina procumbens is not so definitively settled, unless one has seen the plant oneself, which Linnaeus designates as a separate species. The reviewer’s noble silence is proof enough that he does not know this plant; otherwise, for the sake of his conscience and domestic peace, he would not have been able to justify withholding a remark that would have been difficult to refute. Since he made no such remark, there is no need to respond to one.
The figure of Cnicus oleraceus has such a natural appearance that anyone can recognize it. – The reviewer criticizes, presumably, just to have something to say. –
Instead of, at Alopecurus, Plate DCCCLXI, carefully examining the work that can truly be considered the Conference Councillor’s own, the reviewer here shows only that he can read synonyms in Reichard, which, as everywhere, are cited instead of Linnaeus. Reichard did not place Cynofurus paniceus Fl. Svec. under Alopecurus, but Linnaeus did in the second edition of Species Plantarum. The reviewer might practice over the summer to find out what the Alopecurus depicted on Plate 861, along with the others he does not yet know, actually are; and when he modestly admits his errors, people will be willing to enlighten him. The fructification parts of this Alopecurus, just as those of the others, are precisely and well depicted under the microscope, and deserve more praise than the reviewer perhaps imagines.
Plate 863. Scandix Anthriscus is, according to the reviewer, classified by more recent botanists under Caucalis. However, since the reviewer does not specify from which era he considers these newer botanists, one cannot understand him. For it is known that Bauhin regarded it as a Caucalis already, see his Prodromus p. 80, printed 1621, and later Rivinus, Haller, and several others followed him. This new era must therefore be at least 163 years old. For the sake of the Flora, we are glad that the reviewer for the first time shows such generosity toward both the new and the old. In this instance, the reviewer found a regrettable discrepancy when comparing the figure in Flora Danica and the same plant’s figure in Jacquin’s (not Jacuins) Flora Austriaca. They must indeed be different as they are drawn after different individuals. Anyone who looks at both with an impartial and knowledgeable eye will see that Jacquin’s looks rather like a dry, glued specimen and lacks the natural appearance found in Flora Danica. A more decent expression could have been chosen by the reviewer, if he had found any fault with the illumination of Reseda luteola and Potentilla argentea, which he calls coarse and bad. These words do not even suggest acquaintance with a court banner painter; for they are neither decent nor witty. The reviewer should consider how easily a single leaf among a thousand can be overlooked or less carefully illuminated. Anyone who has seen illuminated works will have noticed that there are individual leaves better or worse illuminated in different copies, even in the most celebrated works known for their excellence. The plant itself in Vauen is drawn from a living specimen, thus after nature. The reviewer may perhaps have seen another that looked different — that is possible — but to conclude that the one in Flora Danica is therefore not true nature is nonsense. We may therefore be permitted to consider it natural until the reviewer deigns to inform us what true nature is for this species.
The drawing of the figure on Plate 867 is, in the reviewer’s opinion, well executed. According to the reviewer’s nomenclature, it is called Papaver Rhæas, although both Möller and all botanists have called it Papaver Argemone. One may keep this name as long as the reviewer has not presented to the world his reasons for this change. Premises about embryos do not yield realities in the conclusion. Here is our logic, by which we have judged the reviewer’s credibility regarding his unproven, bold assertions, of which the following may be a small example:
First, one has seen our remarks on Sagina erecta, likewise about the root in Elynmus Arenarius, and on Panicum viride and others. The reviewer would have done better to give the portion of the public who do not own this work closer information about its content and procedure, as he promises on p. 281, instead of muddling the changes with which he grandstands in the undertaking of natural sciences’ reform.
Whether he has been able to provide the promised information, the reader has more than one proof. Not without laughter has one read that a Botanicoides, who does not know technical terms, much less the plants themselves, attempts to assign new plants naturally and appropriately within the system — yet another proof: According to the reviewer, Rosa fluvialis should stand between Pimpinellifolia and Rosa Spinofissima, and one might ask why? We cannot answer. Everyone should compare the mentioned roses with the figure in Flora Danica and judge their relationship.
Rosa fluvialis, depicted on Plate DCCCLXX, has not been considered by the Conference Council as a variety of Eglanteria, as one might soon think from the Reviewer’s words. How much the work has gained from the current artist and engraver can be seen by comparing these two roses with the one shown on Plate 555. The remark that Gerard, in his Historia Plantarum as cited by Johnson, illustrated emaculata is taken from Ligtfoot’s citation — for this discovery, the Reviewer cannot expect a prize medal unless the superiors intervene.
Plate MDCCCLXXVII. The Conference Council assumes from the descriptions that Ophrys paludosa, lillifolia, and Loefelii are one and the same, and has therefore chosen the trivial name paludosa for the Ophrys depicted on plate 877. The Reviewer, who seems to want to define the boundaries of species and provide identifying features by which they differ, should first, before proceeding, state which of the three Linnaean species united by Møller the depicted one is; the Reviewer differs from the Conference Council in that he believes them to be different. We do not hold high regard for the Reviewer’s dwarf opinions, as was clearly shown previously, and here we meet yet another proof – he knows none of the three plants at all; all that can be conceded to him is that he may have loosely seen Ophrys paludosa in Erhart’s Phytophylacium, just as children see pictures and later students learn from Orbis pictus, the father of elementary books. Ophrys paludosa has not yet been found in Denmark – he has never seen Loefelii, otherwise, without Reichard’s help, he would have noticed that it is the same as Ophrys diphyllos bulbosa in Flora Danica. Loefelii flor. pruff. Plate 58 and Linnæus’ Ophrys Loefelii. Mr. Reichardt, merely as a flatterer, enjoys too much credit, for Linnæus in 1753 in the first edition of Species Plantarum cited the figure of Loefelii for his Ophrys Loefelii, so why not let Reichard keep his mistakes? Why should he mix them with more beautiful and foreign ones? The Reviewer will find it superfluous in the marsh near Lundehuset. Perhaps he has closer marshes. The so-called Ophrys lilifolia, Gronov. Flor. Virginica p. 185, the Reviewer has never seen, for among living botanists hardly more than three have seen it; one specimen is in Pluknet’s herbarium, another in spirits at Mr. Banks’ in London, a third in Gronovius’ herbarium, now owned by Lord Bute, and these are perhaps the only places in Europe where it is found. Pluknet’s figure, plate 434, fig. 9, represents the plant very well. The Ophrys listed in Flora Svecica is not the same as the Virginian or lilifolia, but only a variety of Loefelii. Far from intending to accuse the foundations of natural history, Linnæus’ accuracy, we merely want to acquaint the reader with how it came about that Linnæus in his Flora Svecica p. 316 introduced a variety of Loefelii instead of lilifolia itself. One might imagine the matter like this: Linnæus saw lilifolia or the Virginian only in Gronovius’ herbarium, only after he had previously described Ophrys lilifolia as he saw it in Celsius; doubtfully the Swedish one was introduced, since he did not find it himself, whence came that he found similarity between his described plant and the Virginian? But if we now suppose that the Swedish lilifolia is merely a variety of Loefelii, it is easily seen that Linnæus’ synonym cannot be reliable, and the Swedish lilifolia is not expected to be found for that reason. It could then be deleted from Flora Svecica after this note. Yet we should excuse Linnæus, as several individuals have round stems, especially dried stems are round which remain standing by the new shoots, which may have misled him to regard the one listed in the Swedish flora as different from Loefelii. Furthermore, the Knight in his Species Plantarum p. 1341 did not put Ophrys lilifolia as the one from which one should take the distinguishing feature to show it was different from Loefelii paludosa or monophyll., and to be convinced of lilifolia’s distinctness, but he only compares the latter two to enhance each person’s own distinguishing features, taken either from multiple leaves or from the lip of the flower, etc. But why should we trouble ourselves with the Reviewer? He only needs to feel with his hand; he uses sharp perception and has no need for reason to collect distinguishing features. Thus it is distinct enough for him that the sharp tips of the leaves of paludosa make it clearly different from the other species in this genus, and how to portray this feeling? It pains us that the Reviewer does not properly distinguish between scaber and acutus. We wish our remarks could give him this sure feeling. Linnæus does not mean, as the Reviewer says about paludosa, that the surface of the leaf towards the tip is sharp, but that the edge (margo) at the tip is sharp. We will not fill the space with Linnæus’ words; see Flora Svecica p. 316.
By comparing the identifying features among different botanophiles, the reviewer will probably arrive at the third species; see the introduction to the Plant Kingdom by Linné, Regnum Vegetabile, Volume XIV, p. 10.
Thus it has been shown that the Reviewer was quite ignorant in what he undertook to judge.
Why should he criticize the times? Instead, he concludes with some remarks whose important and serious meaning quite deters us from responding. – The Reviewer first seems to despise microscopic observations, then claims that Conf. Müller purely sacrificed economic plants to flaunt cryptogamic plants, even that he busied himself with fly cadavers. But should we waste more time answering the Reviewer’s jokes? Any naturalist will easily see whether our response was harsher than the Reviewer deserved; he should be reminded that silence is not the approval of the knowledgeable, as ignorant and half-learned braggarts so easily believe, and that it is not the inventor but the invention that is praised; when one praises the person who first taught people to prune vines, he was certainly not a gardener but a lecturer who was heard throughout the region. The Reviewer can never doubt that this is meant sincerely, for the children who are loved most sensibly are reprimanded in time. What we have said about Sagina erecta, Festuca duriuscula, Panicum viride, Spergula laricina, Alopecurus paniceus, Papaver argemone, Ophrys paludosa, Loefelii and lilifolia convinces us sufficiently that the Reviewer knows little about these plants, yet was bold enough to mock them. – This is now the age of the joke scholars. – Perhaps we could assume that cryptogamic plants also do not belong to the Reviewer’s circle of knowledge, since he wisely passes them by, precisely because he knows that silence, like the Pythian priestess at the tripod, proves she knows better but does not want to sadden the questioners with an answer.
Let the final conclusion be, then, that the Reviewer, as a statistician of the natural kingdoms, cameralist, etc., has judged a language whose letters he does not know.
Will you now, dear Mr. Reviewer, persist with the same ignorance to familiarize yourself with the other natural kingdoms? Then you would do best as a postillion traveling through them – no economic or botanical knowledge is required, only that they let themselves be heard now and then by blowing their horn, so one can tell from this sound when they arrive and that they are there. Your blast on the children’s trumpet in this review would have had no effect if not the hissing and slander had combined with your sound, with which one aimed to do nothing less than dishonor the publisher esteemed throughout Europe by sprinkling and splattering dirt on Flora Danica.
Some of the satirists of old age might perhaps say about the young scholars of our time, who are dropsical in stomach, head, and bowels, arrogant in word and speech:“Sunt simiæ multorum capitum, neminem nisi seipsos sequuntur, crustis et pomis illos venemur, eos excipiamus et in vivaria mittamus.”But when confined, they scream even worse than before: they have plenty of excuses, they are never idle, indeed the poet excuses them with these words:Why do you laugh at those ridiculous people who take so much trouble with their clothing? Rather laugh, he means, at the conceited semi-learned:“Nam quod petunt spernunt, repetunt quod nuper omiserunt, æstuant et vitæ disconveniunt ordine toto, diruunt, ædificant, mutant quadrata rotundis.”Perhaps the madness lies in statistics and half-digested natural history.
Times change only in the form of things; human life is and always remains equally rich in ridiculous spectacles.
Only this is regrettable: that whole generations, entire nations, rely on semi-learned people, where laws ought to ensure they are punished in life for daring, with ignorant recklessness, not only to raise themselves as leaders of youth but to shape youth’s leaders, and to treat the enlightened as rude, desperately needing missionaries in science.
And this is tolerated because some would rather prescribe than seek out and reward merit.
Denmark has recently received a writing that can seriously remind it that every reasonable people are reliable and believe themselves to be the chief architects of their own errors.
Sunt Simiæ multorum capitum, neminem niſi ſeipfos fequuntur ,
cruſtis et pomis illos venemur, eos excipiamus et in vivaria
mittamus.
They are monkeys with many heads, they follow no one but themselves, we honor them with shells and fruits, let us catch them and put them in cages.
They are monkeys with many heads, they follow no one but themselves, we honor them with shells and fruits, let us catch them and put them in cages.
nam qvod petunt ſpernunt, repetunt quod nuper omiferunt , æſtuant
etvitæ disconveniunt ordine toto, diruunt, ædificant , mutant
quadrata rotundis.
For what they seek, they reject; they repeat what they recently
omitted; they rage and disrupt the entire order of life, destroy,
build up, and change the square into the round.