The case of King Philip is only one of many similar cases that have been recorded from time to time. Some might say that this illustration goes simply to show the power of singing to overcome mental dejection; but this mental dejection, we are told, made it impossible for him to transact affairs of state, so that the result of his mental state was to interfere with his physical ability to work, showing that just as soon as his mind was right his physical organism responded as well.

Every tone we make with the voice, whether it is a speaking or a singing tone, contains within itself a power for good or evil, because of the action it sets up in the life of the one making it, or its effect upon the lives of others. How often we feel, without stopping to think or reason why, how the voice of one person produces a discordant effect upon us, and how the voice of another brings peace and harmony. The tone quality of a voice depends entirely upon the emotion that causes it. If produced by the highest emotion then there will be found in it something of purity and beauty of tone. For the tone quality of the voice can never be made to lie in the same way that we may use words to tell an untruth. Every tone has its own particular tone quality, and the person who understands tone values can never be deceived by anyone else who may be saying one thing and feeling or thinking another. Each tone is filled with a definite meaning that appeals to a corresponding latent quality or tone in the soul of the listener. Yet if one is only listening to the words he may be all unconscious of the tone of the speaker, and thereby fail to get any understanding other than the mere words convey. The tone qualities of the voice which produce emotions in the lives of others can only result from the same emotions in the mind or the heart of the speaker. The one, therefore, who recognises tone values can of a certainty tell whether the speaker is sincere or only trying to convey in a superficial way a true impression. It makes not the slightest difference how one may try to hide or cover up that insincerity, each tone has its own tale to tell. The power to produce a soothing or a quieting effect through sympathetic tones cannot be done by those in whose minds there rankle the elements of jealousy, anger or hate. As the faculties of man's mind develop through thought and feeling there comes also the fuller development and the strengthening of the particular organ of the body that corresponds to each faculty; because, each organ of the body only symbolises a faculty of the mind. I assert, therefore, that all natural development of one's highest emotional nature, and the use of all the varying faculties of mind, makes for physiological changes, and that such changes are recorded throughout the whole physical organism. If the same time and study had been given to the action of man's emotions and thoughts upon his physical organism that have been given to the study of morbid anatomy and pathology of the body, we should long ago have had a system of healing erected upon a safe and sure foundation. But the materialism that places cause in the physical, and that can never see beyond the mere senses, has prevented the professors of healing from seeing beyond the merely physical organism, and the food and drink, and other material things that enter into that physical organism. The whole science of healing, then, as it has existed and does exist, is as far from the real truth as it is possible for it to be.

When soul and mind are functioning as they should in mutual harmony with one another, we may rest assured that the body will become the faithful mirror of both, and will bear the outer record of the inner harmony. Through the aid of music and colour those inner harmonies can be established. Let me refer once more to a little incident in regard to Farinelli to show how much variety of music is needed for the purpose of calling out the higher emotions.

"When Farinelli was at Venice, he was honoured with the most marked attention from the Emperor Charles VI.; but of all the favours he received from the monarch, he used to say that he valued none more than an admonition which he received from him on his style of singing. His Imperial Majesty condescended to tell him one day, with great mildness and affability, that his singing was, indeed, supernatural, that he neither moved nor stood still like any other mortal; but 'these gigantic strides,' continued his Majesty, 'these never-ending notes and passages, only surprise, and it is now time for you to please; you are too lavish of the gifts with which nature has endowed you; if you wish to reach the heart, you must take a more plain and simple road.' These few words brought about an entire change in Farinelli's manner of singing; from this time he mixed the pathetic with the spirited, the simple with the sublime, and by these means delighted as well as astonished every hearer." Very often it happens that the music which is well suited to one person is ill suited to another. There is no emotion that cannot be awakened through musical appeal of one kind or another. For music is adapted to every phase of human growth, from the elemental stage to the very highest phases of spiritual development, and in not one of the arts can there be introduced that multiplicity of variety that music may be made to carry to the minds and hearts of its hearers. The effects attributed to music in the cure of diseases for several thousands of years, seem almost miraculous, but there are so many cases so well authenticated that it is impossible to question the truth of them. Martinus Capella assures us that fevers were removed by song; and that Esculapius cured deafness by the sound of the trumpet. Plutarch says that Thelates, the Cretan, delivered the Lacedaemonians from the pestilence by the sweetness of his lyre; and many others of the ancient writers speak of music as a remedy for almost every malady. Different kinds of instruments have been especially recommended, at times, for different forms of diseases. Let me cite a few cases, to show the marvellous effects of music in the healing of the sick. The Phrygian pipe is recommended by several of the ancient fathers as an antidote to sciatica; and, indeed, according to some writers, every malady has, at some time or another, yielded to the power of music. Modern writers also furnish numerous instances of the effect of music on diseases. In the "History of the Royal Academy of Sciences" at Paris, for 1707, a very remarkable case of this kind is related. "A musician, who was very proficient in his art and famous for his compositions, was seized with a fever which gradually increased; and became at last accompanied with alarming paroxysms. On the seventh day he fell into a very violent and almost uninterrupted delirium, accompanied with shrieks, tears, horrors, and a perpetual want of sleep. On the third day of his delirium, one of those natural instincts which are commonly said to prompt animals in distress to seek for those herbs that are proper for their case, made him desirous of hearing a small concert in his chamber. His physician did not consent to the proposal without some reluctance. It was at last, however, agreed to, and the cantatas of M. Bernier were sung to him; no sooner had the soft melodious strains touched him than his countenance assumed an air of sweetness and serenity, his eyes became calm, his convulsions ceased entirely, he shed tears of joy, and was more affected with that particular music than ever he had been by any before his disorder, or any that he heard after his cure. He was free from the fever while the concert lasted; but when it was at an end, he relapsed into his former state. The use of a remedy whose success had been at once so happy and unexpected was continued; the fever and delirium were always suspended during the concert, and music became so necessary to the patient, that, during the night, he made a relation of his own, who very often attended him, sing, and even dance to him. This relation being himself much affected, paid him such pieces of complaisance with reluctance. One night, when he had no other person but his nurse with him, a woman who could only blunder out the harsh and inharmonious notes of some country ballad, he was obliged to be contented with her music, and even found relief from it. A continuance of the music for ten days cured him entirely, without the assistance of any other remedy, except once taking some blood from his ankle, which was the second time the operation had been performed on him during his disorder." To the power of music, however, his cure was attributed.