“Trouva sol nei tormenti il suo gioire” (“It finds alone its joy in its suffering”).
“Vivre pour mourir, mourir pour vivre” (“Live to die, die to live”).
“Uror, morior, orior” (“I am burnt, I die, I arise”).
The phœnix in heraldry is never represented in other than in one position, rising from flames, that is, with expanded wings and enveloped in flames of fire in which it is being consumed. It is usually represented exactly as an eagle in shape, but may be of any of the heraldic tinctures.
The phœnix is of frequent use in heraldry, and borne by many families in the United Kingdom. A phœnix issuing from a ducal coronet is the crest of the Duke of Somerset.
Linacre, founder of the College of Physicians, and honorary physician to four sovereigns has on his tomb in Westminster Abbey the device of the phœnix, with the motto, “Vivat post funera virtus” (“Virtue survives death”).
From the association of this fabulous bird with alchemy, Paracelsus wrote concerning it, and several alchemists employed it to symbolise their vocation. It was adopted by the Apothecaries’ Company as crest, and is a frequent sign over chemists’ shops.
A phœnix in flames proper, gorged with a mural coronet, is the allusive crest of the Fenwicks; the motto over the crest is the cri de guerre, “A Fenwick! a Fenwick!” They were a family noted in border warfare. “The house of Percy,” says Mrs. Bury Palliser, “ever ranked the Fenwicks among the most valiant of its retainers, and in border warfare the banner of the gorged phœnix in the burning flame always appeared with that of the silver crescent of the Percys.”
The bird of paradise is interesting as having for a time been accepted as the veritable phœnix, a fact which has escaped Gibbon. That luxurious Emperor, Heliogabalus, having eaten, as he thought, of every known delicacy, bethought him one day of the fabled phœnix. What mattered it that only one bird existed at a time; that one, the imperial gourmand must have, and was inconsolable that he had not thought of it before. The zeal of proconsuls was equal to the great occasion, and from all parts of the earth came strange and wondrous birds, each affirmed with confidence to be “the sacred solitary bird, that knows no second, knows no third.” The cankerworm of doubt remains! At last, one day there was brought to Rome from the far islands of the Eastern seas a bird, the like of which for the glory of its plumage had never been seen out of paradise, the veritable phœnix, “Bird of the Sun!” The sight of the magnificent creature carried conviction with it. Heliogabalus ate in faith, and went to his fathers contented.