"There is but one planet Mercury, as there was but one phœnix. The City of the Sun, or the Temple of the Sun, on which the phœnix was said to consume himself, is simply the Sun, or the house of the god Sun, in which Mercury, during his passage across the disk, may be said to be consumed by fire. As the phœnix consumes himself once every six hundred and fifty-one years, at the vernal equinox,--so say our Sabæan books, kept in the Temple of Hercules at Tyre,--Mercury once every six hundred and fifty-one years enters the flames of the sun on nearly the same days of the year! As the phœnix flies from the east westward to the City of the Sun, so the course of Mercury is from east to west athwart the sun. While the phœnix in its passage to the City of the Sun is attended by a flight of dazzling birds, so Mercury in its passage across the disk of the sun is accompanied by bright, scintillating stars in the heavens around. As the phœnix came forth anew out of the flames which had consumed him to ashes, so Mercury, while in the direct line of the sun, is lost to the vision as if consumed, but, having crossed its disk, reappears and flies away on his course again, resuming all his former splendor! Is not this a full solution, my lord priest?" I asked. "You have well solved the riddle," he answered; "and I must compliment you on your knowledge of astrology, O prince. In Egypt we are acquainted with this science, but it is not expected of strangers. In all the years in which the phœnix, according to the 'Books of the Stars,' is said to have destroyed himself with fire in the City of On, Mercury has likewise performed his transits over the sun, according to the calculations of our hierogrammatists, whose duty it is to keep records of descriptions of the world, the course of the sun, moon, and planets, and the condition of the land of Egypt, and the Nile." When I had expressed my thanks to the noble and intelligent priest, his wife, Nelisa, who entered a few moments before, said to him playfully: "What a beautiful mystery you have destroyed with your science and learning, my lord! I have from a child delighted in the mysterious story of the phœnix." "We have mysteries enough left in our mythology and astrology, my dear wife," he answered. "There is scarcely a deity of the land who is not in his origin a greater mystery than the phœnix. Around them all are clouds and mists, often impenetrable by the limited reason of man; and in many lands, as it was anciently in Egypt, the word for religion is 'mystery.'"