In medieval times, music was successfully employed in the treatment of epidemic nervous disorders, a custom which probably originated from the ancient song-remedies or incantations.[180:3] The same agent was also used as an antidote to the poison of a viper's fang, especially the tarantula's bite, which was believed to induce tarantism, or the dancing mania. Antonius Benivenius, a learned Italian physician of the fifteenth century, related that an arrow was drawn from a soldier's body by means of a song.

A notable instance of the power of vocal music in charming away obstinate melancholy is in the case of Philip V of Spain, where the melodious voice of the great Italian singer Farinelli proved effective after all other remedies had failed.

Such are a few instances of the influence of song and melody as seemingly magical agencies, and therefore not inappropriately may they be classed under that branch of folk-lore which deals with healing-spells and verbal medical charms.

It has been well said that music is entitled to a place in our Materia Medica. For while there may not be much music in medicine, there is a great deal of medicine in music. For the latter exerts a powerful influence upon the higher cerebral centres, and thence, through the sympathetic nervous system, upon other portions of the body. Indeed the entire working of the human mechanism, physical and psychical, may be aided by the beautiful art of music. With some people the digestion is facilitated by hearing music. Voltaire said that this fact accounted for the popularity of the opera.

In such cases the music probably acts by banishing fatigue, which interferes with the proper assimilation of food. Hence one may derive benefit from listening to the orchestra during meal-times at fashionable hotels. Milton believed in the benefit to be derived from listening to music before dinner, as a relief to the mind. And he also recommended it as a post-prandial exercise, "to assist and cherish Nature in her first concoctions, and to send the mind back to study, in good tune and satisfaction." Milton practised what he preached, for it was his custom, after the principal meal of the day, to play on the organ and hear another sing.[182:1]

The Reverend Sydney Smith once said that his idea of heaven was eating foie gras to the sound of trumpets.

There is evidence that in ancient times the banquets, which immediately followed sacrifices, were attended with instrumental music. For we read in Isaiah, v, 12: "And the harp and the viol, the tabret and pipe, and wine, are in their feasts." And in the households of wealthy Roman citizens, instruction was given in the art of carving, to the sound of music, with appropriate gestures, under the direction of the official carver (carptor or scissor).[182:2]

We find in the "Apocrypha"[182:3] the following passage: "If thou be made the master of a feast . . . hinder not musick. . . . A concert of musick in a banquet of wine is as a signet of carbuncle set in gold. As a signet of an emerald set in a work of gold, so is the melody of musick with pleasant wine."

Chaucer, in his "Parson's Tale," speaks of the Curiositie of Minstralcie, at the banquets of the well-to-do in his day.

The banquets of the Anglo-Saxons were enlivened by minstrels and gleemen, whose visits were welcome breaks in the monotony of the people's lives. They added to their musical performances mimicry and other means of promoting mirth, as well as dancing and tumbling, with sleights of hand, and a variety of deceptions to amuse the company.[183:1] In the intervals between the musical exercises, the guests talked, joked, propounded and answered riddles, and boasted of their own exploits, while disparaging those of others. Later, when the liquor took effect, they were wont to become noisy and quarrelsome.[183:2] "Then wine wets the man's breast-passions; suddenly rises clamour in the company, an outcry they send forth various."[183:3]