ON THE MEDICINAL POWERS ATTRIBUTED TO MUSIC BY THE ANCIENTS.
The power of music over the human mind, as well as its influence on the
animal creation, has been variously attested; and its curative virtues
have been no less extolled by the ancients.[116] Martianus Capella assures
us, that fevers were removed by songs, and that Asclepiades cured
deafness by the sound of the trumpet. Wonderful indeed! that the same
noise which would occasion deafness in some, should be a specific for it
in others! It is making the viper cure its own bite. But, perhaps
Asclepiades was the inventor of the _acousticon_, or ear-trumpet, which
has been thought a modern discovery; or of the speaking-trumpet, which
is a kind of cure for distant deafness. These would be admirable proofs
of musical power![117] We have the testimony of Plutarch, and several
other ancient writers, that Thaletas the Cretan, delivered the
Lacedemonians from the pestilence by the sweetness of his lyre.
Xenocrates, as Martianus Capella further informs us, employed the sound
of instruments in the cure of maniacs; and Apollonius Dyscolus, in his
fabulous history (Historia Commentitia) tells us, from Theophrastus's
Treatise upon Enthusiasm, that music is a sovereign remedy for a
dejection of spirits, and disordered mind; and that the sound of the
flute will cure epilepsy and the sciatic gout. Athenaeus quotes the same
passage from Theophrastus, with this additional circumstance, that, as
to the second of these disorders, to render the cure more certain, the
flute should play in the Phrygian mode. But Aulus Gellius, who mentions
this remedy, seems to administer it in a very different manner, by
prescribing to the flute-player a soft and gentle strain, _si modulis
lenibus_ says he, _tibicen incinet_: for the Phrygian mode was
remarkably vehement and furious.
This is what Coelius Aurelianus calls _loca dolentia decantare_,
enchanting the disordered places. He even tells us how the enchantment
is brought about upon these occasions, in saying that the pain is
relieved by causing a vibration of the fibres of the afflicted part.
Galen speaks seriously of playing the flute on the suffering part, upon
the principle, we suppose, of a medicated vapour bath.
The sound of the flute was likewise a specific for the bite of a viper,
according to Theophrastus and Democritus, whose authority Aulus Gellius
gives for his belief of the fact. But there is nothing more
extraordinary among the virtues attributed to music by the ancients,
than what Aristotle relates in its supposed power of softening the
rigour of punishment. The Tyrhenians, says he, never scourge their
slaves, but by the sound of flutes, looking upon it as an instance of
humanity to give some counterpoise to pain, and thinking by such a
diversion to lessen the sum total of the punishment. To this account may
be added a passage from Jul. Pallus, by which we learn, that in the
_triremes_, or vessels with three banks of oars, there was always a
_tibicen_, or flute-player, not only to mark the time, or cadence for
each stroke of the oar, but to sooth and cheer the rowers by the
sweetness of the melody. And from this custom Quintilian took occasion
to say, that music is the gift of nature, to enable us the more
patiently to support toil and labour.[118]
These are the principal passages which antiquity furnishes, relative to
the medicinal effects of music; in considering which, reliance is placed
on the judgment of M. Burette, whose opinions will come with the more
weight, as he had not only long made the music of the ancients his
particular study, but was a physician by profession. This writer, in a
dissertation on the subject, has examined and discussed many of the
stories above related, concerning the effects of music in the cure of
diseases. He allows it to be possible, and even probable, that music, by
reiterated strokes and vibrations given to the nerves, fibres, and
animal spirits, may be of use in the cure of certain diseases; yet he by
no means supposes that the music of the ancients possessed this power in
a greater degree than the modern music, but rather that a very coarse
and vulgar music is as likely to operate effectually on such occasions
as the most refined and perfect. The savages of America pretend to
perform these cures by the music and jargon of their imperfect
instruments; and in Apulia, where the bite of the tarantula is pretended
to be cured by music, which excites a desire to dance, it is by an
ordinary tune, very coarsely performed.[119]
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.
"After food," says Sir William Jones,[121] "when the operations of
digestion and absorption gives so much employment to the vessels, that a
temporary state of mental repose, especially in hot climates, must be
found essential to health, it seems reasonable to believe that a few
agreeable airs, either heard or played without effort, must have all the
good effects of sleep, and none of its disadvantages; putting, as Milton
says, '_the soul in tune_' for any subsequent exertion; an experiment
often made by myself. I have been assured by a credible witness, that
two wild antelopes often used to come from their woods to the place
where a more savage beast, Serajuddaulah, entertained himself with
concerts, and that they listened to the strains with the appearance of
pleasure, till the monster, in whose soul there was no music, shot one
of them to display his archery." A learned native told Sir William Jones
that he had frequently seen the most venomous snakes leave their holes
upon hearing tunes on a flute, which, as he supposed, gave them peculiar
delight.
Of the surprising effects of music, the two following instances, with
which we shall close these remarks, are related in the history of the
Royal Academy of Society of Paris.
A famous musician, and great composer was taken ill of a fever, which
assumed the continued form, with a gradual increase of the symptoms. On
the second day he fell into a very violent delirium, almost constantly
accompanied by cries, tears, terrors, and a perpetual watchfulness. The
third day of his delirium one of those natural instincts, which make, as
it is said, sick animals seek out for the herbs that are proper to their
case, set him upon desiring earnestly to hear a little concert in his
chamber. His physician could hardly be prevailed upon to consent to it.
On hearing the first modulations, the air of his countenance became
serene, his eyes sparkled with a joyful alacrity, his convulsions
absolutely ceased, he shed tears of pleasure, and was then possessed for
music with a sensibility he never before had, nor after, when he was
recovered. He had no fever during the whole concert, but, when it was
over, he relapsed into his former condition.
The fever and delirium were always suspended during the concert, and
music was become so necessary to the patient, that at night he obliged a
female relation who sometimes sat up with him, to sing and even to
dance, and who, being much afflicted, was put to great difficulty to
gratify him. One night, among others, he had none but his nurse to
attend him, who could sing nothing better than some wretched country
ballads. He was satisfied to put up with that, and he even found some
benefit from it. At last ten days of music cured him entirely, without
other assistance than of being let blood in the foot, which was the
second bleeding that was prescribed for him, and was followed by a
copious evacuation.
This account was communicated to the Academy by M. Dodart, who had it
well authenticated.
The second instance of the extraordinary effect of music is related of a
dancing-master of Alais, in the province of Languedoc. Being once
over-fatigued in Carnival time by the exercise of his profession, he was
seized with a violent fever, and on the fourth or fifth day, fell into a
lethargy, which continued upon him for a considerable time. On
recovering he was attacked with a furious and mute delirium, wherein he
made continual efforts to jump out of bed, threatened, with a shaking
head and angry countenance, those who attended him, and even all that
were present; and he besides obstinately refused, though without
speaking a word, all the remedies that were presented to him. One of the
assistants bethought himself that music perhaps might compose a
disordered imagination. He accordingly proposed it to his physician, who
did not disapprove the thought, but feared with good reason the
ridicule of the execution which might still have been infinitely
greater, if the patient should happen to die under the operation of such
a remedy.
A friend of the dancing master, who seemed to disregard the caution of
the physician, and who could play on the violin, seeing that of the
patient hanging up in the chamber, laid hold of it, and played directly
for him the air most familiar to him. He was cried out against more than
the patient who lay in bed, confined in a straight jacket; and some were
ready to make him desist; when the patient, immediately sitting up as a
man agreeably surprised, attempted to caper with his arms in unison with
the music; and on his arms being held, he evinced, by the motion of his
head, the pleasure he felt. Sensible, however, of the effects of the
violin, he was suffered by degrees to yield to the movement he was
desirous to perform,--when, strange as it may appear, his furious fits
abated. In short, in the space of a quarter of an hour, the patient fell
into a profound sleep, and a salutary crisis in the interim rescued him
from all danger.
FOOTNOTES:
[116] Dr. Burney's History of Music.
[117] It has been asserted by several moderns, that deaf people can hear
best in a great noise; perhaps to prove that Greek noise could do
nothing which the modern cannot operate as effectually: and Dr. Willis
in particular tells us of a lady who could hear only while a drum was
beating, in so much that her husband, the account says, hired a drummer
as her servant, in order to enjoy the pleasures of her conversation.
[118] Many of the ancients speak of music as a recipe for every kind of
malady, and it is probable that the Latin was _praecinere_, to charm
away pain, _incantare_ to enchant, and our own word _incantation_, came
from the medical use of song.
[119] M. Burette, with Dr. Mead, Baglivi, and all the learned of their
time throughout Europe, seem to have entertained no doubt of this fact,
which, however, philosophical and curious enquirers have since found to
be built upon fraud and fallacy. Vide Serrao, _della Tarantula o vero
falangio di Puglia._
[120] Pope's translation of the Iliad, Book 1.
[121] See a curious Dissertation on the musical modes of the Hindoos by
Sir W. Jones.