r, the phoenix, 'which, after
many hundred years, burneth itself, and from the ashes thereof ariseth
up another.' Sir Thomas carefully discusses the pros and cons of this
remarkable legend. In favour of the phoenix, it may be alleged that he
is mentioned 'not only by human authors,' but also by such 'holy
writers' as Cyril, Epiphanius, and Ambrose. Moreover, allusions are made
to him in Job and the Psalms. 'All which notwithstanding,' the following
grave reasons may be alleged against his existence: First, nobody has
ever seen a phoenix. Secondly, those who mention him speak doubtfully,
and even Pliny, after telling a story about a particular phoenix which
came to Rome in the censorship of Claudius, unkindly turns round and
declares the whole story to be a palpable lie. Thirdly, the name phoenix
has been applied to many other birds, and those who speak unequivocally
of the genuine phoenix contradict each other in the most flagrant way as
to his age and habitat. Fourthly, many writers, such as Ovid, only speak
poetically, and others, as Paracelsus, only mystically, whilst the
remainder speak rhetorically, emblematically, or hieroglyphically.
Fifthly, in the Scriptures, the word translated phoenix means a palm
tree. Sixthly, his existence, if we look closely, is implicitly denied
in the Scriptures, because all fowls entered the ark in pairs, and
animals were commanded to increase and multiply, neither of which
statements is compatible with the solitary nature of the phoenix.
Seventhly, nobody could have known by experience whether the phoenix
actually lived for a thousand years, and, therefore, 'there may be a
mistake in the compute.' Eighthly, and finally, no animals really
spring, or could spring, from the ashes of their predecessors and it is
impossible to believe that they could enter the world in such a fashion.
Having carefully summed up this negative evidence--enough, one would
have fancied, to blow the poor phoenix into summary annihilation--Sir
Thomas finally announces his grave conclusion in these words--'How far
to rely on this tradition we refer unto consideration.' And yet he feels
impelled to add a quaint reflection on the improbability of a statement
made by Plutarch, that 'the brain of a phoenix is a pleasant bit, but
that it causeth the headache.' Heliogabalus, he observes, could not have
slain the phoenix, for it must of necessity be 'a vain design to destroy
any species, or mutilate the great accomplishme