up the general views respecting this
imaginary source of terror: "Nearly all the dragon forms, whatever their
original types and their region, are represented in the conventional
monster of the European stage, which meets the popular conception. The
dragon is a masterpiece of the popular imagination, and it required many
generations to give it artistic shape. Every Christmas he appears in
some London pantomime, with aspect similar to that which he has worn for
many ages. His body is partly green, with the memories of the sea and of
slime, and partly brown or dark, with lingering shadow of storm clouds.
The lightning flames still in his red eyes, and flashes from his
fire-breathing mouth. The thunder-bolt of Jove, the spear of Wodan, are
in the barbed point of his tail. His huge wings--bat-like, spiked--sum up
all the mythical life of extinct harpies and vampires. Spine of
crocodile is on his neck, tail of the serpent, and all the jagged ridges
of rocks and sharp thorns of jungles bristle around him, while the ice
of glaciers and brassy glitter of sunstrokes are in his scales. He is
ideal of all that is hard, obstructive, perilous, loathsome, horrible in
nature; every detail of him has been seen through and vanquished by man,
here or there, but in selection and combination they rise again as
principles, and conspire to form one great generalization of the forms
of pain--the sum of every creature's worst."[421]

[420] "Demonology and Devil-Lore," 1880, vol. i. p. 383.

[421] The dragon formerly constituted a part of the
morris-dance.

_Elephant._ According to a vulgar error, current in bygone times, the
elephant was supposed to have no joints--a notion which is said to have
been first recorded from tradition by Ctesias the Cnidian.[422] Sir
Thomas Browne has entered largely into this superstition, arguing, from
reason, anatomy, and general analogy with other animals, the absurdity
of the error. In "Troilus and Cressida" (ii. 3), Ulysses says: "The
elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy: his legs are legs for
necessity, not for flexure." Steevens quotes from "The Dialogues of
Creatures Moralized"--a curious specimen of our early natural history--the
following: "the olefawnte that bowyth not the kneys." In the play of
"All Fools," 1605, we read: "I hope you are no elephant--you have
joints." In a note to Sir Thomas Browne's Works,[423] we are told, "it
has long been the custom for the exhibitors of itiner