M OONWORT. 
(FORGETFULNESS.) 
T HIS flower is no less famed for the singularity of its 
associated legends than for the quaintness of its names. 
It is frequently called Honesty, which name is supposed to 
have been given it because of the transparency of the partition 
of the seed-vessel; it has been known as Silver-bloom and 
Satin-flower, probably on account of the glossy and silvery 
look of this seed-vessel. In France it is frequently called Herbe 
aux Lunettes , from the fancied resemblance of this portion of 
the plant to the oval glass of a pair of spectacles; and lastly, 
it was formerly termed in England, and still is in many parts 
of Europe, Lunaria, which is nothing more than a Latinized 
form of Moonwort, the appellation by which it is now recog¬ 
nized, and which, like all its many cognomens, is derived from 
a peculiarity of the seed-vessel, the form of which is considered 
to resemble that of the full moon. 
This little lilac flower has for many generations been deemed 
typical of forgetfulness. Rene, Duke of Baraud-Lorraine, having 
been taken prisoner at the battle of Toulongeon, is said to have 
personally painted a sprig of moonwort, and to have had it con¬ 
veyed to his vassals, as a reproach to them for their dilatoriness 
in effecting his deliverance. 
Culpepper, in his ridiculous old “ Herbal,” says, “Moonwort 
is a herb which, they say, will open locks and unshoe such 
horses as tread upon it: this some laugh to scorn, and those 
no small fools neither; but country people that I know call it 
‘ unshoe the horse.’ Besides,” adds the old rascal, “ I have heard 
commanders say, that on White Downs, in Devonshire, near 
Tiverton, there were found thirty horse-shoes, pulled off from 
the Earl of Essex’s horses, being there drawn up in a body, 
