MORE MYTHOLOGY.
APOLLO. This gentlemanly deity was the manager of the Sun. By this statement we do not mean to imply that he had any connection with the Sun of the present day over which Mr. DANA presides, although his fondness for a good lyre has led many to suppose that he was the patron of the classic journalists. The Sun which was in APOLLO'S charge was the same respectable luminary which has been seen at London no less than three different times during the present century, and which daily shines upon this free and happy republic. What APOLLO'S duties as keeper of the Sun were, is not precisely known. Probably he was required to superintend the scouring and brightening of the solar disk. At any rate, since he gave up his office, the Sun has become freckled over with ugly spots, the cause of which no modern astronomer has yet discerned;—the scientific chaps, with their customary want of common sense, having never once surmised that these spots were simply rust occasioned by a lack of proper scouring. The theory that APOLLO really did scour the Sun is substantiated by the ancient legend that he used to scour the heavens in a swift chariot drawn by several coursers. The greater is universally admitted to contain the less—except in the solitary instance of the nutmeg grater, which generally contains nothing but dust.—Hence the deity who scoured the entire Heavens would unquestionably scour that small portion which we call the Sun. This is an argument which will convince any one but a strong-minded woman or a Protectionist.
APOLLO, as we have already said, was very fond of the lyre. He was also an archer—not the one who shot at a crow, although his name does begin with "A," but an archer who was addicted to drawing a very long and ornamental bow. This is doubtless another reason why he is believed to have been the guide, counsellor, and friend of the journalists of the period. Indeed, so firm is the belief, even at the present day, in his honorary connection with journalism, that one of our best known editors, whose personal appearance strikingly resembles that of the best statues of APOLLO, is frequently called, by way of compliment, "the APOLLO of the press." Need we say that we refer to Mr. HORACE GREELEY, who receives this title quite as much on account of his professional eminence, as because of his resemblance to the APOLLO BELVIDERE?
APOLLO was the first individual, mortal or immortal, who became a public lecturer, and—after the manner of our most popular lyceum lecturers—propounded unintelligible conundrums to the confiding public. He had a Hall at Delphi, where he used to speak upon "The Lesson of the Hour," and his oracular sayings were every bit as valuable as those of RALPH WALDO EMERSON himself. People used to ask him all manner of questions, precisely as they now ask questions of the editors of newspapers. Now-a-days if a girl wants to know what she shall do to change the color of her hair, she writes to the editor of PUNCHINELLO, and receives a satisfactory answer. Had she lived two thousand years ago, however, she would have gone to Delphi and asked APOLLO, who would have oracularly answered, "Dye." As APOLLO never wrote his prescriptions, the girl would have been uncertain whether he meant to say "Dye" or "Die," and after the manner of her sex, would, of course, have chosen the wrong interpretation, and have immediately drowned herself. By such responses as these, APOLLO sometimes accomplished much good, though usually his oracular sayings were as useless as those of the Veteran Observer.