A purple flower sprang up, chequered with white,

Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood

Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood.”

FLOWER DE LUCE.—The Iris has obtained this name, which is derived from the French Fleur de Louis, from its having been assumed as his device by Louis VII., of France. This title of Fleur de Louis has been changed to Fleur de Luce, Fleur de Lys, and Fleur de Lis. (See [Iris]).——A curious superstition exists in the district around Orleans, where a seventh son without a daughter intervening is called a Marcon. It is believed that the Marcon’s body is marked somewhere with a Fleur de Lis, and that if a patient suffering under King’s Evil touch this Fleur de Lis, or if the Marcon breathe upon him, the malady will be sure to disappear.

Flower Gentle, or Floramor.—See [Amaranth].

FLOWERS OF HEAVEN.—Under the names of Rain Tremella and Star Jelly is known a strange gelatinous substance, of no precise form, but of a greenish hue, which creeps over gravelly soils, and is found mixed up with wet Mosses on rocks besides waterfalls: when moist, it is soft and pulpy, but in dry weather it becomes thin, brittle, and black in colour. Linnæus called it Tremella Nostoc, but it is now classed with the Algæ Gloiocladeæ

under the name of Nostoc commune, a name first used by the alchymist Paracelsus, but the meaning of which is unknown. During the middle ages, some extraordinary superstitions were afloat concerning this plant, which was called Cœlifolium, or Flowers of Heaven. By the alchemists it was considered a universal menstruum. The country people in Germany use it to make their hair grow. In England, the country folk of many parts, firmly believed it to be the remains of a falling star, for after a wet, stormy night, these Flowers of Heaven will often be found growing where they were not to be seen the previous evening.

FLOWERING ROD.—There is a legend in the Apocryphal Gospel of Mary, according to which Joseph was chosen for Mary’s husband because his rod budded into flower, and a dove settled upon the top of it. In pictures of the marriage of Joseph and Mary, the former generally holds the flowering rod. The rod by which the Lord demonstrated that He had chosen Aaron to be His priest, blossomed with Almond-flowers, and was laid up in the Ark (see [Almond]).

FORGET-ME-NOT.—The Forget-me-not is a name which, like the Gilliflower, has been applied to a variety of plants. For more than two hundred years it was given, in England, France, and the Netherlands, to the ground Pine, Ajuga Chamæpitys. From the middle of the fifteenth century until 1821, this plant was in all the botanical books called Forget-me-not, on account of the nauseous taste which it leaves in the mouth. Some of the old German botanists gave the name Vergiss mein nicht to the Chamædrys vera fœmina, or Teucrium Botrys. Forglemm mig icke, the corresponding Danish name, was given to the Veronica chamædrys. This plant was in English called the Speedwell, from its blossoms falling off and flying away, and “Speedwell” being an old form of leave-taking, equivalent to “Farewell” or “Good-bye.” In the days of chivalry, a plant, whose identity has not been ascertained, was called “Souveigne vous de moy,” and was woven into collars. In 1465, one of these collars was the prize at a famous joust, fought between Lord Scales, brother to Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV., and a French knight of Burgundy. Certain German botanists, as far back as the sixteenth century, seem, however, to have given the name Forget-me-not to the Myosotis palustris; and this name has become inseparably connected with the flower, borne on the wings of the following poetic legend:—A knight and his lady-love, who were on the eve of being united, whilst strolling on the bank of the blue Danube, saw a spray of these pretty flowers floating on the waters, which seemed ready to carry it away. The affianced bride admired the delicate beauty of the blossoms, and regretted their fatal destiny. At this hint, the lover did not hesitate to plunge into the stream. He soon secured the flowers, but the current was too strong for him, and as it bore him past his despairing mistress, he flung the fatal flowers on the bank, exclaiming, as he was swept to his doom, “Vergiss mich nicht!”

“And the lady fair of the knight so true,