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Apollonius and his companions stopped in a small village in Ethiopia, where, whilst they were at supper, they amused themselves with a variety of conversation, both grave and gay. On a sudden was heard a confused uproar, as if from the women of the village exhorting one another to seize and pursue. They called to the men for assistance, who immediately sallied forth, snatching up sticks and .stones, with whatever other weapons they chanced to find.

All this hubbub arose from a Satyr having made his appearance, who for ten months past had infested the village. . . . The moment Apollonius perceived his friends were alarmed at this, he said, 'Don't be terrified... There is but one remedy to be used in cases of such kind of insolence, and is what Midas had recourse to. He was himself of the race of Satyrs, as appeared plainly by his ears. A Satyr once invited himself to his house, on the ground of consanguinity, and whilst he was his guest, libelled his ears in a copy of verses, which he set to music, and played on his harp. Midas, who was instructed, I think, by his mother, learnt from her that if a Satyr was made drunk with wine and fell asleep, he recovered his senses and became quite a new creature. A fountain happening to be near his palace, he mixed it with wine, to which he sent the Satyr, who drank it till he was quite overcome with it. Now to show you that this is not all mere fable, let us go to the governor of the village, and if the inhabitants have any wine, let us make the Satyr drink, and I will be answerable for what happened in the case of the Satyr of Midas. All were willing to try the experiment; and immediately four Egyptian amphoras of wine were poured into the pond, in which the cattle of the village were accustomed to drink. Apollonius invited the Satyr to drink, and added, along with the invitation, some

private menaces, in case of refusal. The Satyr did not appear, nevertheless the wine sank, as if it was drank. When the pond was emptied, Apollonius said, 'Let us offer libations to the Satyr, who is now fast asleep.' After saying this, he carried the men of the village to the cave of the Nymphs, which was not more than the distance of a plethron from the hamlet, where, after showing them the Satyr asleep, he ordered them to give him no ill-usage, either by beating or abusing him: 'For,' said he, 'I will answer for his good behavior for the time to come.' This is the action of Apollonius, which, by Jupiter, I consider as what gave greatest lustre to his travels, and which was, in truth, their greatest feat. Any one who has perused the letter which he wrote to a dissipated young man, wherein he tells him he had tamed a Satyr in Ethiopia, must call to mind this story. Consequently, no doubt can now remain of the existence of Satyrs. When I was myself in Lemnos, I remember one of my contemporaries, whose mother, they said, was visited by a Satyr, formed according to the traditional accounts we have of that race of beings. He wore a deerskin on his shoulders, which exactly fitted him, the forefeet of which, encircling his neck, were fastened to his breast. But of this I shall say no more, as I am sensible credit is due to experience, as well as to me.

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It is clear, from all these authorities, that various circumstances might have given rise to the idea of Satyrs. The Great Ape species alone, which, like the monkeys in Africa, might easily be supposed to be a race of men too idle to work, and holding their tongues to avoid it, would

*"Life of Apollonius of Tyana," translated from the Greek of Philostratus, by the Rev. Edward Berwick. p. 348.

be sufficient to suggest the fancy to an imaginative people. The Satyr Islands of Pausanias are evidently islands frequented by apes, or rather baboons; unless, indeed, we are to believe with Monboddo, that men once had tails; which is hardly a greater distinction from some men without them, than a philosopher is from a savage. Orang Outang signifies a wild man; and Linnæus has called the Great Ape the Ape Satyr (Simia Satyrus). Again, there have been real wild men ; and a single one of these, such as Peter the Wild Boy, would people a country like Greece with Satyrs.

But it is not necessary to recur to palpable beings for a poetical stock. A sound, a shadow, a look of something in the dark, was enough to make them; and if this had not been found, they would still have been fancied. Satyrs, in an allegorical sense, are the animal spirits of the creation, its exuberance, its natural health and vigor, its headlong tendency to reproduction. In a superstitious and popular point of view, they were the spirits of the woods, a branch of the universal family of genii and fairies. Finally, in the great world of poetry, they partake, on both these accounts, of whatever has been said or done for them, that remains interesting to the imagination ; and are still to be found there, immortal as their poets. As long as there is a mystery in the world, and men are unable to affirm what beings may not exist, so long poetry will have what existence it pleases, and the mind will have a corner in which to entertain them. Therefore, "the sage and serious Spenser" tells us wisely of

"The wood-god's breed which must for ever last."

In no part of the world of poetry were they ever more alive or lasting, than in the woods of his "Faerie Queene."

You have, indeed, a stronger sense of them in his pages, than in the works of antiquity. The ancient poets appear to have been too close at hand with them. The familiarity, though of a religious sort, had in it something of contempt. Spenser is always remote, in the uttermost parts of poetry; and thither shall he take us to meet them. Here they are, on a bright morning, in the thick of their glades. Una is in distress, and has cried out, so that her voice is heard throughout the woods.

"A troope of Faunes and Satyres, far away

Within the wood, were dancing in a rownd,
Whiles old Sylvanus slept in shady arber sownd:

Who when they heard that pitteous, strained voice,
In haste forsooke their rurall merriment,
And ran towards the far rebownded noyce,
To weet what wight so loudly did lament.
Unto the place they came incontinent:
Whom when the raging Sarazin espyde,
A rude, mishappen, monstrous rablement,
Whose like he never saw, he durst not byde;
But
got his ready steed, and fast away gan ryde.

Such fearefull fitt assaid her trembling hart,
Ne word to speake, ne joynt to move, she had.
The salvage nation feele her secret smart,
And read her sorrow in her count'nance sad;
Their frowning forheades, with rough hornes yclad
And rustick horror, all asyde doe lay;

And, gently grenning, shew a semblance glad
To comfort her; and, feare to put away,

Their backward-bent knees teach her humbly to obay.

The doubtfull damzell dare not yet committ
Her single person to their barbarous truth;
But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sitt,
Late learnd what harme to hasty truth ensu❜th;
They in compassion of her tender youth
And wonder of her beautie soverayne,
Are wonne with pitty and unwonted ruth;

And, all prostráte upon the lowly playne,

Doe kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count'nance fayne.

Their harts she ghesseth by their humble guise,

And yieldes her to extremitie of time:

So from the ground she fearelesse doth arise,
And walketh forth without suspect of crime:
They, all as glad as birdes of joyous pryme,
Thence lead her forth, about her dauncing round,
Shouting, and singing all a shepheard's ryme;
And, with greene branches strowing all the ground,
Do worship her as queene, with olive girlond cround.

And all the way their merry pipes they sound,
That all the woods with doubled eccho ring;
And with their horned feet doe weare the ground,
Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant spring.
So towards old Sylvanus her they bring;
Who, with the noyse awaked, commeth out
To weet the cause, his weake steps governing
And aged limbs on cypresse stadle stout;
And with an yvie twyne his waste is girt about.

The wood-borne people fall before her flat,
And worship her as goddesse of the wood ;
And old Sylvanus self bethinkes not, what
To think of wight so fayre; but gazing stood
In doubt to deeme her born of earthly brood.

The wooddy nymphes, faire Hamadryades,
Her to behold doe thether runne apace;
And all the troupe of light-foot Naiades
Flocke all about to see her lovely face."

Book I. canto 6.

Spenser has a knight among his chivalry, who was the son of a Satyr by the wife of a country gentleman, one Therion (or Brute) by name, a severe insinuation on the part of the gentle poet :

"A loose unruly swayne,

Who had more joy to raunge the forrest wyde,
And chase the salvage beast with busie payne,
Then serve his ladie's love."

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