Baglivi refines on the doctrine of effluvia, by ascribing his cures of the bite of the tarantula to the peculiar undulation any instrument or tune makes by its strokes in the air; which, vibrating upon the external parts of the patient, is communicated to the whole nervous system, and produces that happy alteration in the solids and fluids which so effectually contributes to the cure. The contraction of the solids, he says, impresses new mathematical motions and directions to the fluids; in one or both of which is seated all distempers, and without any other help than a continuance of faith, will alter their quality; a philosophy as wonderful and intricate as the nature of the poison it is intended to expel; but which, however, supplies this observation, that, if the particles of sound can do so much, the effluvia of amulets may do more.
Credulity must be very strong in those who believe it possible for music to drive away the pestilence. Antiquity, however, as mentioned above, relates that Thaletas, a famous lyric poet, contemporary with Solon, was gifted with this power; but it is impossible to render the fact credible, without qualifying it by several circumstances omitted in the relation. In the first place, it is certain, that this poet was received among the Lacedemonians during the plague, by command of an oracle: that by virtue of this mission, all the poetry of the hymns which he sung, must have consisted of prayers and supplications, in order to avert the anger of the gods against the people, whom he exhorted to sacrifices, expiations, purifications, and many other acts of devotion, which, however superstitious, could not fail to agitate the minds of the multitude, and to produce nearly the same effects as public fasts, and, in catholic countries, processions, as at present, in times of danger, by exalting the courage, and by animating hope. The disease having, probably, reached its highest pitch of malignity when the musician arrived, must afterwards have become less contagious by degrees; till, at length, ceasing of itself, by the air wafting away the seeds of infection, and recovering its former purity, the extirpation of the disease was attributed by the people to the music of Thaletas, who had been thought the sole mediator, to whom they owed their happy deliverance.
This is exactly what Plutarch means, who tells the story; and what Homer meant, in attributing the curation of the plague among the Greeks, at the siege of Troy, to music:
With hymns divine the joyous banquet ends,
The Poeans lengthen'd till the sun descends:
The Greeks restor'd, the grateful notes prolong;
Apollo listens and approves the song.[120]
For the poet in these lines seems only to say, that Apollo was rendered favourable, and had delivered the Greeks from the scourge with which they were attacked, in consequence of Chriseis having been restored to her father, and of sacrifices and offerings.
M. Burette thinks it easy to conceive, that music may be really efficacious in relieving, if not in removing, the pains of sciatica; and that independent of the greater or less skill of the musician. He supposes this may be effected in two different ways: first, by flattering the ear, and diverting the attention; and, secondly, by occasioning oscillations and vibrations of the nerves, which may, perhaps, give motions to the humours, and remove the obstructions which occasion this disorder. In this manner the action of musical sounds upon the fibres of the brain and animal spirits, may sometimes soften and alleviate the sufferings of epileptics and lunatics, and calm even the most violent fits of these two cruel disorders. And if antiquity affords examples of this power, we can oppose to them some of the same kind said to have been effected by music, not of the most exquisite sort. For not only M. Burette, but many modern philosophers, physicians, and anatomists, as well as ancient poets and historians, have believed, that music has the power of affecting, not only the mind, but the nervous system, in such a manner as will give a temporary relief in certain diseases, and, at length, even operate a radical cure.
In the Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences for 1707 and 1708, we meet with many accounts of diseases, which, after having resisted and baffled all the most efficacious remedies in common use, had, at length, given way to the soft impressions of harmony. M. de Mairan, in the Memoirs of the same Academy, 1737, reasons upon the medicinal powers of music in the following manner:—"It is from the mechanical and involuntary connexion between the organ of hearing, and the consonances excited in the outward air, joined to the rapid communication of the vibrations of this organ to the whole nervous system, that we owe the cure of spasmodic disorders, and of fevers attended with a delirium and convulsions, of which our Memoirs furnish many examples."
The late learned Dr. Branchini, professor of physic at Udine, collected all the passages preserved in ancient authors, relative to the medicinal application of music, by Asclepiades; and it appears from this work that it was used as a remedy by the ancient Egyptians, Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans, not only in acute, but chronical disorders. This writer gives several cases within his own knowledge, in which music has been efficacious; but the consideration as well as the honour of these, more properly belong to modern than to ancient music.
Music, of all arts, gives the most universal pleasure, and pleases longest and oftenest. Infants are charmed with the melody of sounds, and old age is animated by enlivening notes. The Arcadian shepherds drew pleasure from their reeds; the solitude of Achilles was cheered by his lyre; the English peasant delights in his pipe and tabor; the mellifluous notes of the flute solace many an idle hour; and the charming of snakes and other venomous reptiles, by the power of music, is well attested among the Indians. "Music and the sounds of instruments," says Vigneul de Marville, "contribute to the health of the body and mind; they assist the circulation of the blood, they dissipate vapours, and open the vessels, so that the action of perspiration is freer." The same author tells a story of a person of distinction, who assured him, that once being suddenly seized with a violent illness, instead of a consultation of physicians, he immediately called a band of musicians, and their violins acted so well upon his inside, that his bowels became perfectly in tune, and in a few hours were harmoniously becalmed.
Farinelli, the famous singer, was sent for to Madrid to try the effect of his magical voice on the king of Spain. His Majesty was absorbed in the deepest melancholy; nothing could excite an emotion in him; he lived in a state of total oblivion of life; he sat in a darkened chamber, entirely given up to the most distressing kind of madness. The physicians at first ordered Farinelli to sing in an outer room; and for the first day or two this was done, without producing any effect on the royal patient. At length it was observed, that the king, awakening from his stupor, seemed to listen; on the next day tears were seen starting from his eyes: the day after he ordered the door of his chamber to be left open, and at length the perturbed spirit entirely left our modern Saul, and the medicinal music of Farinelli effected what medicine itself had denied.