(*) Nephelo-coccygia, the cloud-city built by the cuckoos,
     in the Birds of Aristophanes.

He puffed, coughed, and placed his hand on the secretary’s shoulder.

“My child, note down that, amongst certain sects of Christians, it is considered praiseworthy to carry off courtesans and live upon columns.  You may add that these customs are evidence of the worship of genetic divinities.  But on this point we ought to question him himself.”

Then, raising his head, and shading his eyes with his hand, to keep off the sun, he shouted—­

“Hallo, Paphnutius!  If you remember that you were once my guest, answer me.  What are you doing up there?  Why did you go up, and why do you stay there?  Has this column any phallic signification in your mind?”

Paphnutius, considering Cotta as nothing but an idolater, did not deign to reply.  But his disciple, Flavian, approached, and said—­

“Illustrious Sir, this holy man takes the sins of the world upon him, and cures diseases.”

“By Jupiter!  Do you hear, Aristaeus?” cried Cotta.  “This nephelo-coccygian practises medicine, like you.  What do you think of so high a rival?”

Aristaeus shook his head.

“It is very possible that he may cure certain diseases better than I can; such, for instance, as epilepsy, vulgarly called the divine malady, although all maladies are equally divine, for they all come from the gods.  But the cause of this disease lies, partly, in the imagination, and you must confess, Lucius, that this monk, perched up on the head of a goddess, strikes the minds of the sick people more forcibly than I, bending over my mortars and phials in my laboratory, could ever do.  There are forces, Lucius, infinitely more powerful than reason and science.”

“What are they?” asked Cotta.

“Ignorance and folly,” replied Aristaeus.

“I have rarely seen a more curious sight,” continued Cotta, “and I hope that some day an able writer will relate the foundation of Stylopolis.  But even the most extraordinary spectacles should not keep, longer than is befitting, a serious and busy man from his work.  Let us go and inspect the canals.  Farewell, good Paphnutius! or rather, till our next meeting!  If ever you should come down to earth again, and revisit Alexandria, do not fail to come and sup with me.”

These words, heard by all present, passed from mouth to mouth, and being repeated by the believers, added greatly to the reputation of Paphnutius.  Pious minds amplified and transformed them, and it was stated that Paphnutius, from the top of his pillar, had converted the Prefect of the Fleet to the faith of the apostles and the Nicaean fathers.  The believers found a figurative meaning in the last words uttered by Aurelius Cotta; to them, the supper to which this important personage had invited the ascetic, was a holy communion, a spiritual repast, a celestial banquet.  The