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