The sun is so apt to take the place of an almost super-human hero, that most of the stories of such when they are purely mythical relate some part of the sun’s daily course and labours. Thus in the Greek, Perseus, Theseus, Jason, are in the main sun-heroes, though they mingle with their histories tales of real human adventure. One of the most easily traceable sun-stories is that of Perseus and the Gorgon. The later representations of Medusa in Greek art give her a beautiful dead face shrouded by luxurious snaky tresses; but the earlier art presents us with a round face, distorted by a hideous grin from ear to ear, broad cheeks, low forehead, over which curl a few flattened locks. We at once see the likeness of this face to the full moon; a likeness which, without regard to mythology, forces itself upon us; and then the true story of Perseus flashes upon us as the extinction of the moon by the sun’s light. This is the baneful Gorgon’s head, the full moon, which so many nations superstitiously believed could exert a fatal power over the sleeper; and when slain by the son of Danaê, it is the pale ghostlike disc which we see by day. It is very interesting to see how the Greeks made a myth of the moon in its--one may say--literal unidealized aspect, in addition to the countless more poetical myths which spoke of the moon as a beautiful goddess, queen of the night, the virgin huntress surrounded by her pack of dogs--the stars. In the instance of Medusa these two aspects of one natural appearance are brought into close relationship, for Athênê--who is sometimes a moon-goddess--wears the Gorgon’s head upon her shield. As we have passed on to speak of the moon, we may as [Sidenote: Moon-myths.]