The god Æsculapius, accompanied by his daughter Panakeia, appears in the temple to examine in person the patients gathered there. The first one he meets is a poor wretch, Neokleides, who, being blear-eyed, expects cure from the god. The medically skilled Æsculapius smears upon the inverted lids of this patient a salve which causes such pain that the poor fellow will probably never seek his help again. The second patient met by the god is the blind god, Πλοῦτος (_i.e._, Wealth Personified). Here the conduct of Æsculapius is entirely different from that which he adopted when treating poor Neokleides. Now he carefully strokes the head of the patient, then produces a linen cloth and carefully touches the lids with it. He then calls his daughter Panakeia, who winds a red cloth round the head of blind Wealth. Now Æsculapius whistles, and two mighty serpents appear, glide under the purple cloth, and lick the eyes of the patient. Shortly afterward the god regains his sight. This passage is a cutting satire on practises which undoubtedly prevailed in the Greek temples as early as the sixth century, B.C. But, nevertheless, it took a long time before the patients lost their belief in the miraculous efficacy of temple sleep, and the priesthood continually strove to revive, by the mysterious stories of various kinds they recounted to doubters, the belief in temple sleep. The sixth of the marble votive tablets which were found in the temple of Æsculapius at Epidaurus shows the kind of miraculous reports invented by the priests. The latter were in the habit of inscribing upon these tablets reports of cures that had occurred in their sanctuary, for the benefit of the visitors of the temple and for the still greater benefit of the medical historians; but it is quite probable that the priesthood, intent upon curing, were encouraged in their medico-literary attempts only by the silent hope of creating an abundant supply of patients by such miraculous reports. The above tablet, No. 6—which probably dates from the third century, B.C.—tells us that a blind man by the name of Hermon, a native of Thasos, had recovered his sight by sleeping in the Epidaurean temple of Æsculapius. However, it appears that this man Hermon had been a miserable wretch, for he disappeared without having expressed his thanks in hard cash. Naturally such ingratitude provoked the god, and summarily he blinded the thankless individual again. It required a second temple sleep before the god condescended to become helpful once more. But our tablet does not mention anything about the amount of the remuneration paid by our friend Hermon who had been twice cured of blindness; neither is this at all necessary. The miraculous tablet, even without stating the price, doubtless made sufficient impression upon the minds even of the most parsimonious of future patients.