I wish to follow your lead, but should be disposed to go rather farther than you do in adopting English names. For instance, I would certainly adopt Mousetail instead of Myosure. Myosure is hardly more English than before clipping its tail a little, and Mousetail is the exact equivalent. Corydal and Astragal I quite like, as they have really no English names. I incline to Crowfoot as a generic appellation. To extend it over the whole genus is only doing what is so often done with scientific generic names. In the case of genera having very strongly marked subgenera, would it not be possible to let the subgeneric name govern the popular nomenclature? as say-- Pear; genus=Pyrus, under it Pear, with its species; Apple, 1. Common Apple, 2. Crab-Apple, etc. There are formidable difficulties about this popular nomenclature, yet they must be surmounted in some way or other. As we are making much of English, why not say “rootstock” instead of “rhizome.” I do not like French forms. I would even say “pod” instead of “capsule,” in popular parlance. Kindly send me proofs as you go on. I want much to see them. Wright’s collections in North Pacific Expedition are here, and he is turning over his Behring Straits collection and trying to work it out, with some help from me. There is a Hongkong collection; there may be some of these he would like to ask you to name, so far as you may off hand. The Japan collection I will elaborate myself. There is not so much from the north as I expected. They had no chance to explore the small islands connecting with the Kurile Islands. I have only peeped into one or two parcels; but in one I saw two things which will interest you as much as they did me. Imagine the two most characteristic possible eastern United States plants, Caulophyllum and Diphylleia, both, I believe, our very species. Tell this to Dr. Hooker! The only domestic news I have to tell you is, that on a hot August day our beloved Newfoundland dog was found dead,--really a sad loss. To console us my brother-in-law, a fortnight after, sent me a puppy of the same breed, an uneasy, frolicsome, awkward fellow yet, but promising to be intelligent and very handsome. We could not bear to give him the name of his lamented predecessor; so Mrs. Gray named him Hans,--a souvenir of Pontrilas.... * * * * * Dr. Gray’s dogs and cats were always well-recognized members of the family. He had a great love of animals, which was warmly returned by his different pets. In his early married life the kittens he helped raise by feeding them with a dropping-tube from his microscope rather preferred him to their young and careless mother, and, confounding all other men with him, were perpetually scrambling into laps, to the surprise of callers. Two grew into fine cats, who demanded a regular attention and consideration from him, reminding him by gentle taps, one on each side, when bedtime came.