to the philosophy of oneiromancy, or the art of taking omens
from dreams, during sleep the soul was released from the body, and thus
enabled to soar into spiritual regions and commune with celestial
beings. Therefore memories of ideas suggested in dreams were cherished
as divine revelations.[101:1]

The opinion has been advanced that the methods employed to procure
"temple sleep" were similar to those in use at the present time for the
production of the hypnotic state. A cure was effected by awakening a
healing instinct in the patient's subconscious mind.[101:2]

So far as we are aware, no authentic rational explanation has been
given of the phenomenal appearance of a god in the patient's presence.
It seems plausible that Asklepios, the Grecian Esculapius, was
personated by some priest of majestic mien, who gave oracular medical
advice, which serves as a powerful therapeutic suggestion. Various
attendant circumstances doubtless contributed to impress the patient's
highly wrought imagination, such as the dim light, the sense of mystery,
and, it may be, certain tricks of ventriloquism.

In the earliest days of temple-sleep, that is, probably about the
seventh century B. C., this mode of treatment was practised without a
tinge of superstition, the applicants' faith being deep and sincere. For
in that era the belief was general that human art was powerless to cure
disease, and the gods alone could furnish aid. Temple-sleep, wrote Dr.
Hugo Magnus, was not degraded into superstition until the physicians had
come to the conclusion that the phenomena of disease were not evidence
of divine displeasure, but that they were due to natural causes. When
therefore this new belief became established, temple-sleep degenerated
into a superstitious rite. As early as the fifth century B. C., the
celebrated poet, Aristophanes, in his comedy, "Plutus," severely
criticized this ceremony, as practised in his time. And, although the
more enlightened among the Greeks came to regard it with disfavor, the
custom was never entirely abandoned by the ancient world.

Having bathed Plutus in the sea, says the servant Cario, we
went to the temple of Esculapius; and when our wafers and
preparatory sacrifices were offered on the altar, and our
cakes on the flame of Vulcan, we laid him on a couch, as was
proper, and made ready our own mattresses. When the priest had
extinguished the lights, he told us to go to sleep, addin