han the
age of the younger Pliny.

This story, like nearly every other that we have come across, has a
parallel in the _Philopseudus_. Indeed, Lucian seems to have covered
almost the whole field of the marvellous, as understood at that time, in
his determination to turn it into ridicule in that amusing dialogue. In
this case we are told of a little statue of AEsculapius, which stood in
the house of the narrator of the story, and at the feet of which a
number of pence had been placed as offerings, while other coins, some of
them silver, were fastened to the thighs with wax. There were also
silver plates which had been vowed or offered by those who had been
cured of fever by the god. The offerings and tablets are just such as
might be found in a Catholic church in the South of Europe to-day; but
the coins, in our more practical modern world, would have found their
way into the coffers of the church. One would like to know what was the
ultimate destination of these particular coins--whether they were to be
sent as contributions to one of the temples of AEsculapius, which were
the centre of the medical world at this period, and had elaborate
hospitals attached to them, about which we learn so much from Aristides.

In this case they were merely a source of temptation to an unfortunate
Libyan groom, who stole them one night, intending to make his escape.
But he had not studied the habits of the statue, which, we are told,
habitually got down from its pedestal every night; and in this case such
was the power of the god that he kept the man wandering about all night,
unable to leave the court, where he was found with the money in the
morning, and soundly flogged. The god, however, considered that he had
been let off much too easily; and he was mysteriously flogged every
night, as the weals upon him showed, till he ultimately died of the
punishment.

AElian[110] has a charming story of Philemon, the comic poet. He was
still, apparently, in the full vigour of his powers when he had a vision
of nine maidens leaving his house in the Piraeus and bidding him
farewell. When he awoke, he told his slave the story, and set to work to
finish a play with which he was then busy. After completing it to his
satisfaction, he wrapped himself in his cloak and lay down upon his bed.
His slave came in, and, thinking he was asleep, went to wake him, when
he found that he was dead. AElian challenges the unbelieving Epicureans
to deny that the nin