{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_4337/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_4337","id":"gutenberg_4337","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4337","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Health & Medicine","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Mental health","Nervous system","Rest"],"text":"Produced by Steve Solomon\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPOWER THROUGH REPOSE\n\nBY\n\nANNIE PAYSON CALL\n\nNew Edition with Additions\n\n\n\n_Personality binds--universality expands._\n\nFRANCOISE DELSARTE.\n\n\nWhen the body is perfectly adjusted, perfectly supplied with force,\nperfectly free and works with the greatest economy of expenditure,\nit is fitted to be a perfect instrument alike of impression,\nexperience, and expression.\n\nW. R. ALGER.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nTHE GUIDANCE OF THE BODY\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE literature relating to the care of the human body is already\nvery extensive. Much has been written about the body's proper food,\nthe air it should breathe, the clothing by which it should be\nprotected, the best methods of its development. That literature\nneeds but little added to it, until we, as rational beings, come\nnearer to obeying the laws which it discloses, and to feeling daily\nthe help which comes from that obedience.\n\nIt is of the better use, the truer guidance of this machine, that I\nwish especially to write. Although attention is constantly called to\nthe fact of its misuse,--as in neglected rest and in\nover-strain,--in all the unlimited variety which the perverted\ningenuity of a clever people has devised, it seems never to have\ncome to any one's mind that this strain in all things, small and\ngreat, is something that can be and should be studiously abandoned,\nwith as regular a process of training, from the first simple steps\nto those more complex, as is required in the work for the\ndevelopment of muscular strength. When a perversion of Nature's laws\nhas continued from generation to generation, we, of the ninth or\ntenth generation, can by no possibility jump back into the place\nwhere the laws can work normally through us, even though our eyes\nhave been opened to a full recognition of such perversion. We must\nclimb back to an orderly life, step by step, and the compensation is\nlarge in the constantly growing realization of the greatness of the\nlaws we have been disobeying. The appreciation of the power of a\nnatural law, as it works through us, is one of the keenest pleasures\nthat can come to man in this life.\n\nThe general impression seems to be that common-sense should lead us\nto a better use of our machines at once. Whereas, common-sense will\nnot bring a true power of guiding the muscles, any more than it will\ncause the muscles' development, unless having the common-sense to\nsee the need, we realize with it the necessity for cutting a path\nand walking in it. For the muscles' development, several paths have\nbeen cut, and many who are in need are walking in them, but, to the\naverage man, the road to the best kind of muscular development still\nremains closed. The only training now in use is followed by\nsleight-of-hand performers, acrobats, or other jugglers, and that is\nlimited to the professional needs of its followers.\n\nAgain, as the muscles are guided by means of the nerves, a training\nfor the guidance of the muscles means, so far as the physique is\nconcerned, first, a training for the better use of the nervous\nforce. The nervous system is so wonderful in its present power for\ngood or ill, so wonderful in its possible power either way, and so\nmuch more wonderful as we realize what we do not know about it, that\nit is not surprising that it is looked upon with awe. Neither is it\nstrange that it seems to many, especially the ignorant, a subject to\nbe shunned. It is not uncommon for a mother, whose daughter is\nsuffering, and may be on the verge of nervous prostration because of\nher misused nerves, to say, \"I do not want my daughter to know that\nshe has nerves.\" The poor child knows it already in the wrong way.\nIt is certainly better that she should know her nerves by learning a\nwholesome, natural use of them. The mother's remark is common with\nmany men and women when speaking of themselves,--common with\nteachers when talking to or of their pupils. It is of course quite\nnatural that it should be a prevailing idea, because hitherto the\nmention of nerves by man or woman has generally meant perverted\nnerves, and to dwell on our perversions, except long enough to shun\nthem, is certainly unwholesome in the extreme.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nPERVERSIONS IN THE GUIDANCE OF THE BODY\n\n\n\n\n\nSO evident are the various, the numberless perversions of our powers\nin the misuse of the machine, that it seems almost unnecessary to\nwrite of them. And yet, from another point of view, it is very\nnecessary; for superabundant as they are, thrusting their evil\nresults upon us every day in painful ways, still we have eyes and\nsee not, ears and hear not, and for want of a fuller realization of\nthese most grievous mistakes, we are in danger of plunging more and\nmore deeply into the snarls to which they bring us. From nervous\nprostration to melancholia, or other forms of insanity, is not so\nlong a step.\n\nIt is of course a natural sequence that the decadence of an entire\ncountry must follow the waning powers of the individual citizens.\nAlthough that seems very much to hint, it cannot be too much when we\nconsider even briefly the results that have already come to us\nthrough this very misuse of our own voluntary powers. The\nadvertisements of nerve medicines alone speak loudly to one who\nstudies in the least degree the physical tendencies of the nation.\nNothing proves better the artificial state of man, than the\nartificial means he uses to try to adjust himself to Nature's\nlaws,--means which, in most cases, serve to assist him to keep up a\nlittle longer the appearance of natural life. For any simulation of\nthat which is natural must sooner or later lead to nothing, or worse\nthan nothing. Even the rest-cures, the most simple and harmless of\nthe nerve restorers, serve a mistaken end. Patients go with nerves\ntired and worn out with misuse,--commonly called over-work. Through\nrest, Nature, with the warm, motherly help she is ever ready to\nbring us, restores the worn body to a normal state; but its owner\nhas not learned to work the machine any better,--to drive his horses\nmore naturally, or with a gentler hand. He knows he must take life\nmore easily, but even with a passably good realization of that\nnecessity, he can practise it only to a certain extent; and most\noccupants of rest-cures find themselves driven back more than once\nfor another \"rest.\"\n\nNervous disorders, resulting from overwork are all about us. Extreme\nnervous prostration is most prevalent. A thoughtful study of the\nfaces around us, and a better understanding of their lives, brings\nto light many who are living, one might almost say, in a chronic\nstate of nervous prostration, which lasts for years before the break\ncomes. And because of the want of thought, the want of study for a\nbetter, more natural use of the machine, few of us appreciate our\nown possible powers. When with study the appreciation grows, it is a\ndaily surprise, a constantly increasing delight.\n\nExtreme nervous tension seems to be so peculiarly American, that a\nGerman physician coming to this country to practise became puzzled\nby the variety of nervous disorders he was called upon to help, and\nfinally announced his discovery of a new disease which he chose to\ncall \"Americanitis.\" And now we suffer from \"Americanitis\" in all\nits unlimited varieties. Doctors study it; nerve medicines arise on\nevery side; nervine hospitals establish themselves; and rest-cures\ninnumerable spring up in all directions,--but the root of the matter\nis so comparatively simple that in general it is overlooked\nentirely.\n\nWhen illnesses are caused by disobedience to the perfect laws of\nNature, a steady, careful obedience to these laws will bring us to a\nhealthful state again.\n\nNature is so wonderfully kind that if we go one-tenth of the way,\nshe will help us the other nine-tenths. Indeed she seems to be\nwatching and hoping for a place to get in, so quickly does she take\npossession of us, if we do but turn toward her ever so little. But\ninstead of adopting her simple laws and following quietly her\nperfect way, we try by every artificial means to gain a rapid\ntransit back to her dominion, and succeed only in getting farther\naway from her. Where is the use of taking medicines to give us new\nstrength, while at the same time we are steadily disobeying the very\nlaws from the observance of which alone the strength can come? No\nmedicine can work in a man's-body while the man's habits are\nconstantly counteracting it. More harm than good is done in the end.\nWhere is the use of all the quieting medicines, if we only quiet our\nnerves in order that we may continue to misuse them without their\ncrying out? They will cry out sooner or later; for Nature, who is so\nquick to help us to the true way of living, loses patience at last,\nand her punishments are justly severe. Or, we might better say, a\nlaw is fixed and immovable, and if we disobey and continue to\ndisobey it, we suffer the consequences.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nREST IN SLEEP\n\n\n\n\n\nHOW do we misuse our nervous force? First, let us consider, When\nshould the body be completely at rest? The longest and most perfect\nrest should be during sleep at night. In sleep we can accomplish\nnothing in the way of voluntary activity either of mind or body. Any\nnervous or muscular effort during sleep is not only useless but\nworse,--it is pure waste of fuel, and results in direct and\nirreparable harm. Realizing fully that sleep is meant for rest, that\nthe only gain is rest, and that new power for use comes as a\nconsequence,--how absurd it seems that we do not abandon ourselves\ncompletely to gaining all that Nature would give us through sleep.\n\nSuppose, instead of eating our dinner, we should throw the food out\nof the window, give it to the dogs, do anything with it but what\nNature meant we should, and then wonder why we were not nourished,\nand why we suffered from faintness and want of strength. It would be\nno more senseless than the way in which most of us try to sleep now,\nand then wonder why we are not better rested from eight hours in\nbed. Only this matter of fatiguing sleep has crept upon us so slowly\nthat we are blind to it. We disobey mechanically all the laws of\nNature in sleep, simple as they are, and are so blinded by our own\nimmediate and personal interests, that the habit of not resting when\nwe sleep has grown to such an extent that to return to natural\nsleep, we must think, study, and practise.\n\nFew who pretend to rest give up entirely to the bed, a dead\nweight,--letting the bed hold them, instead of trying to hold\nthemselves on the bed. Watch, and unless you are an exceptional case\n(of which happily there are a few), you will be surprised to see how\nyou are holding yourself on the bed, with tense muscles, if not all\nover, so nearly all over that a little more tension would hardly\nincrease the fatigue with which you are working yourself to sleep.\n\nThe spine seems to be the central point of tension--it does not\n_give_ to the bed and rest there easily from end to end; it touches\nat each end and just so far along from each end as the man or woman\nwho is holding it will permit. The knees are drawn up, the muscles\nof the legs tense, the hands and arms contracted, and the fingers\nclinched, either holding the pillow or themselves.\n\nThe head, instead of letting the pillow have its full weight, holds\nitself onto the pillow. The tongue cleaves to the roof of the mouth,\nthe throat muscles are contracted, and the muscles of the face drawn\nup in one way or another.\n\nThis seems like a list of horrors, somewhat exaggerated when we\nrealize that it is of sleep, \"Tired Nature's sweet restorer,\" that\nwe are speaking; but indeed it is only too true.\n\nOf course cases are not in the majority where the being supposed to\nenjoy repose is using _all_ these numerous possibilities of\ncontraction. But there are very few who have not, unconsciously,\nsome one or two or half-dozen nervous and muscular strains; and even\nafter they become conscious of the useless contractions, it takes\ntime and watchfulness and patience to relax out of them, the habit\nso grows upon us. One would think that even though we go to sleep in\na tense way, after being once soundly off Nature could gain the\nadvantage over us, and relax the muscles in spite of ourselves; but\nthe habits of inheritance and of years are too much for her.\nAlthough she is so constantly gracious and kind, she cannot go out\nof her way, and we cannot ask her to do so.\n\nHow simple it seems to sleep in the right way; and how wholesome it\nis even to think about it, in contrast to the wrong way into which\nso many of us have fallen. If we once see clearly the great\ncompensation in getting back to the only way of gaining restful\nsleep, the process is very simple, although because we were so far\nout of the right path it often seems slow. But once gained, or even\npartially gained, one great enemy to healthful, natural nerves is\nconquered, and has no possibility of power.\n\nOf course the mind and its rapid and misdirected working is a strong\npreventive of free nerves, relaxed muscles, and natural sleep. \"If I\ncould only stop myself from thinking\" is a complaint often heard,\nand reason or philosophy does not seem to touch it. Even the certain\nknowledge that nothing is gained by this rapid thought at the wrong\ntime, that very much is lost, makes no impression on the overwrought\nmind,--often even excites it more, which proves that the trouble, if\noriginally mental, has now gained such a hold upon the physique that\nit must be attacked there first. The nerves should be trained to\nenable the body to be an obedient servant to a healthy mind, and the\nmind in giving its attention to such training gains in normal power\nof direction.\n\nIf you cannot stop thinking, do not try; let your thoughts steam\nahead if they will. Only relax your muscles, and as the attention is\nmore and more fixed on the interesting process of letting-go of the\nmuscles (interesting, simply because the end is so well worth\ngaining), the imps of thought find less and less to take hold of,\nand the machinery in the head must stop its senseless working,\nbecause the mind which allowed it to work has applied itself to\nsomething worth accomplishing.\n\nThe body should also be at rest in necessary reclining in the day,\nwhere of course all the laws of sleep apply. Five minutes of\ncomplete rest in that way means greater gain than an hour or three\nhours taken in the usual manner. I remember watching a woman\n\"resting\" on a lounge, propped up with the downiest of pillows,\nholding her head perfectly erect and in a strained position, when it\nnot only would have been easier to let it fall back on the pillow,\nbut it seemed impossible that she should not let it go; and yet\nthere it was, held erect with an evident strain. Hers is not an\nunusual case, on the contrary quite a common one. Can we wonder that\nthe German doctor thought he had discovered a new disease? And must\nhe not be already surprised and shocked at the precocious growth of\nthe infant monster which he found and named? \"So prone are mortals\nto their own damnation, it seems as though a devil's use were gone.\"\n\nThere is no better way of learning to overcome these perversions in\nsleep and similar forms of rest, than to study with careful thought\nthe sleep of a wholesome little child. Having gained the physical\nfreedom necessary to give perfect repose to the body, the quiet,\nsimple dropping of all thought and care can be made more easily\npossible. So we can approach again the natural sleep and enjoy\nconsciously the refreshment which through our own babyhood was the\nunconscious means of giving us daily strength and power for growth.\n\nTo take the regular process, first let go of the muscles,--that will\nenable us more easily to drop disturbing thoughts; and as we refuse,\nwithout resistance, admittance to the thoughts, the freedom from\ncare for the time will follow, and the rest gained will enable us to\nawaken with new life for cares to come. This, however, is a habit to\nbe established and thoughtfully cultivated; it cannot be acquired at\nonce. More will be said in future chapters as to the process of\ngaining the habit.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nOTHER FORMS OF REST\n\n\n\n\n\nDO you hold yourself on the chair, or does the chair hold you? When\nyou are subject to the laws of gravitation give up to them, and feel\ntheir strength. Do not resist these laws, as a thousand and one of\nus do when instead of yielding gently and letting ourselves sink\ninto a chair, we _put_ our bodies rigidly on and then hold them\nthere as if fearing the chair would break if we gave our full weight\nto it. It is not only unnatural and unrestful, but most awkward. So\nin a railroad car. Much, indeed most of the fatigue from a long\njourney by rail is quite unnecessary, and comes from an unconscious\nofficious effort of trying to carry the train, instead of allowing\nthe train to carry us, or of resisting the motion, instead of\nrelaxing and yielding to it. There is a pleasant rhythm in the\nmotion of the rapidly moving cars which is often restful rather than\nfatiguing, if we will only let go and abandon ourselves to it. This\nwas strikingly proved by a woman who, having just learned the first\nprinciples of relaxation, started on a journey overstrained from\nmental anxiety. The first effect of the motion was that most\ndisagreeable, faint feeling known as car-sickness. Understanding the\ncause, she began at once to drop the unnecessary tension, and the\nfaintness left her. Then she commenced an interesting novel, and as\nshe became excited by the plot her muscles were contracted in\nsympathy (so-called), and the faintness returned in full force, so\nthat she had to drop the book and relax again; and this process was\nrepeated half-a-dozen times before she could place her body so under\ncontrol of natural laws that it was possible to read without the\nartificial tension asserting itself and the car-sickness returning\nin consequence.\n\nThe same law is illustrated in driving. \"I cannot drive, it tires me\nso,\" is a common complaint. Why does it tire you? Because instead of\nyielding entirely and freely to the seat of the carriage first, and\nthen to its motion, you try to help the horses, or to hold yourself\nstill while the carriage is moving. A man should become one with a\ncarriage in driving, as much as one with his horse in riding. Notice\nthe condition in any place where there is excuse for some\nanxiety,--while going rather sharply round a corner, or nearing a\nrailroad track. If your feet are not pressed forcibly against the\nfloor of the carriage, the tension will be somewhere else. You are\nusing nervous force to no earthly purpose, and to great earthly\nloss. Where any tension is necessary to make things better, it will\nassert itself naturally and more truly as we learn to drop all\nuseless and harmful tension. Take a patient suffering from nervous\nprostration for a long drive, and you will bring him back more\nnervously prostrated; even the fresh air will not counteract the\nstrain that comes from not knowing how to relax to the motion of the\ncarriage.\n\nA large amount of nervous energy is expended unnecessarily while\nwaiting. If we are obliged to wait for any length of time, it does\nnot hurry the minutes or bring that for which we wait to keep\nnervously strained with impatience; and it does use vital force, and\nso helps greatly toward \"Americanitis.\" The strain which comes from\nan hour's nervous waiting, when simply to let yourself alone and\nkeep still would answer much better, is often equal to a day's\nlabor. It must be left to individuals to discover how this applies\nin their own especial cases, and it will be surprising to see not\nonly how great and how common such strain is, but how comparatively\neasy it is to drop it. There are of course exceptional times and\nstates when only constant trying and thoughtful watchfulness will\nbring any marked result.\n\nWe have taken a few examples where there is nothing to do but keep\nquiet, body and brain, from what should be the absolute rest of\nsleep to the enforced rest of waiting. Just one word more in\nconnection with waiting and driving. You must catch a certain train.\nNot having time to trust to your legs or the cars, you hastily take\na cab. You will in your anxiety keep up exactly the same strain that\nyou would have had in walking,--as if you could help the carriage\nalong, or as if reaching the station in time depended upon your\nkeeping a rigid spine and tense muscles. You have hired the carriage\nto take you, and any activity on your part is quite unnecessary\nuntil you reach the station; why not keep quiet and let the horses\ndo the work, and the driver attend to his business?\n\nIt would be easy to fill a small volume with examples of the way in\nwhich we are walking directly into nervous prostration; examples\nonly of this one variety of disobedience,--namely, of the laws of_\nrest._ And to give illustrations of all the varieties of\ndisobedience to Nature's laws in _activity_ would fill not one small\nbook, but several large ones; and then, unless we improve, a\nyear-book of new examples of nervous strain could be published. But\nfortunately, if we are nervous and short-sighted, we have a good\nshare of brain and commonsense when it is once appealed to, and a\nfew examples will open our eyes and set us thinking, to real and\npractical results.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nTHE USE OF THE BRAIN\n\n\n\n\n\nLET us now consider instances where the brain alone is used, and the\nother parts of the body have nothing to do but keep quiet and let\nthe brain do its work. Take thinking, for instance. Most of us think\nwith the throat so contracted that it is surprising there is room\nenough to let the breath through, the tongue held firmly, and the\njaw muscles set as if suffering from an acute attack of lockjaw.\nEach has his own favorite tension in the act of meditation, although\nwe are most generous in the force given to the jaw and throat. The\nsame superfluous tension may be observed in one engaged in silent\nreading; and the force of the strain increases in proportion to the\ninterest or profundity of the matter read. It is certainly clear,\nwithout a knowledge of anatomy or physiology, that for pure,\nunadulterated thinking, only the brain is needed; and if vital force\nis given to other parts of the body to hold them in unnatural\ncontraction; we not only expend it extravagantly, but we rob the\nbrain of its own. When, for purely mental work, all the activity is\ngiven to the brain, and the body left free and passive, the\nconcentration is better, conclusions are reached with more\nsatisfaction, and the reaction, after the work is over, is healthy\nand refreshing.\n\nThis whole machine can be understood perhaps more clearly by\ncomparing it to a community of people. In any community,--Church,\nState, institution, or household,--just so far as each member minds\nhis own business, does his own individual work for himself and for\nthose about him, and does not officiously interfere with the\nbusiness of others, the community is quiet, orderly, and successful.\nImagine the state of a deliberative assembly during the delivery of\na speech, if half-a-dozen of the listeners were to attempt to help\nthe speaker by rising and talking at the same time; and yet this is\nthe absurd action of the human body when a dozen or more parts, that\nare not needed, contract \"in sympathy\" with those that have the work\nto do. It is an unnecessary brace that means loss of power and\nuseless fatigue. One would think that the human machine having only\none mind, and the community many thousands, the former would be in a\nmore orderly state than the latter.\n\nIn listening attentively, only the brain and ears are needed; but\nwatch the individuals at an entertaining lecture, or in church with\na stirring preacher. They are listening with their spines, their\nshoulders, the muscles of their faces. I do not refer to the look of\ninterest and attention, or to any of the various expressions which\nare the natural and true reflection of the state of the mind, but to\nthe strained attention which draws the facial muscles, not at all in\nsympathy with the speaker, but as a consequence of the tense nerves\nand contracted muscles of the listener. \"I do not understand why I\nhave this peculiar sort of asthma every Sunday afternoon,\" a lady\nsaid to me. She was in the habit of hearing, Sunday morning, a\npreacher, exceedingly interesting, but with a very rapid utterance,\nand whose mind travelled so fast that the words embodying his\nthoughts often tumbled over one another. She listened with all her\nnerves, as well as with those needed, held her breath when he\nstumbled, to assist him in finding his verbal legs, reflected every\naction with twice the force the preacher himself gave,--and then\nwondered why on Sunday afternoon, and at no other time, she had this\nnervous catching of the breath. She saw as soon as her attention was\ndrawn to the general principles of Nature, how she had disobeyed\nthis one, and why she had trouble on Sunday afternoon. This case is\nvery amusing, even laughable, but it is a fair example of many\nsimilar nervous attacks, greater or less; and how easy it is to see\nthat a whole series of these, day after day, doing their work\nunconsciously to the victim, will sooner or later bring some form of\nnervous prostration.\n\nThe same attitudes and the same effects often attend listening to\nmusic. It is a common experience to be completely fagged after two\nhours of delightful music. There is no exaggeration in saying that\nwe should be _rested_ after a good concert, if it is not too long.\nAnd yet so upside-down are we in our ways of living, and, through\nthe mistakes of our ancestors, so accustomed have we become to\ndisobeying Nature's laws, that the general impression seems to be\nthat music cannot be fully enjoyed without a strained attitude of\nmind and body; whereas, in reality, it is much more exquisitely\nappreciated and enjoyed in Nature's way. If the nerves are perfectly\nfree, they will catch the rhythm of the music, and so be helped back\nto the true rhythm of Nature, they will respond to the harmony and\nmelody with all the vibratory power that God gave them, and how can\nthe result be anything else than rest and refreshment,--unless\nhaving allowed them to vibrate in one direction too long, we have\ndisobeyed a law in another way.\n\nOur bodies cannot by any possibility be _free,_ so long as they are\nstrained by our own personal effort. So long as our nervous force is\nmisdirected in personal strain, we can no more give full and\nresponsive attention to the music, than a piano can sound the\nharmonies of a sonata if some one is drawing his hands at the same\ntime backwards and forwards over the strings. But, alas! a\ncontracted personality is so much the order of the day that many of\nus carry the chronic contractions of years constantly with us, and\ncan no more free ourselves for a concert at a day's or a week's\nnotice, than we can gain freedom to receive all the grand universal\ntruths that are so steadily helpful. It is only by daily patience\nand thought and care that we can cease to be an obstruction to the\nbest power for giving and receiving.\n\nThere are, scattered here and there, people who have not lost the\nnatural way of listening to music,--people who are musicians through\nand through so that the moment they hear a fine strain they are one\nwith it. Singularly enough the majority of these are fine animals,\nmost perfectly and normally developed in their senses. When the\nintellect begins to assert itself to any extent, then the nervous\nstrain comes. So noticeable is this, in many cases, that nervous\nexcitement seems often to be from misdirected intellect; and people\nunder the control of their misdirected nervous force often appear\nwanting in quick intellectual power,--illustrating the law that a\nstream spreading in all directions over a meadow loses the force\nthat the same amount of water would have if concentrated and flowing\nin one channel. There are also many cases where the strained nerves\nbring an abnormal intellectual action. Fortunately for the saving of\nthe nation, there are people who from a physical standpoint live\nnaturally. These are refreshing to see; but they are apt to take\nlife too easily, to have no right care or thought, and to be\nsublimely selfish.\n\nAnother way in which the brain is constantly used is through the\neyes. What deadly fatigue comes from time spent in picture\ngalleries! There the strain is necessarily greater than in\nlistening, because all the pictures and all the colors are before us\nat once, with no appreciable interval between forms and subjects\nthat differ widely. But as the strain is greater, so should the care\nto relieve it increase. We should not go out too far to meet the\npictures, but be quiet, and let the pictures come to us. The fatigue\ncan be prevented if we know when to stop, and pleasure at the time\nand in the memory afterwards will be surprisingly increased. So is\nit in watching a landscape from the car window, and in all interests\nwhich come from looking. I am not for one instant condemning the\n_natural_ expression of pleasure, neither do I mean that there\nshould be any apparent nonchalance or want of interest; on the\ncontrary, the real interest and its true expression increase as we\nlearn to shun the shams.\n\nBut will not the discovery of all this superfluous tension make one\nself-conscious? Certainly it will for a time, and it must do so. You\nmust be conscious of a smooch on your face in order to wash it off,\nand when the face is clean you think no more of it. So you must see\nan evil before you can shun it. All these physical evils you must be\nvividly conscious of, and when you are so annoyed as to feel the\nnecessity of moving from under them self-consciousness decreases in\nequal ratio with the success of your efforts.\n\nWhenever the brain alone is used in thinking, or in receiving and\ntaking note of impressions through either of the senses, new power\ncomes as we gain freedom from all misdirected force, and with\nmuscles in repose leave the brain to quietly do its work without\nuseless strain of any kind. It is of course evident that this\nfreedom cannot be gained without, first, a consciousness of its\nnecessity. The perfect freedom, however, when reached, means freedom\nfrom self-consciousness as well as from the strain which made\nself-consciousness for a time essential.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE BRAIN IN ITS DIRECTION OF THE BODY\n\n\n\n\n\nWE come now to the brain and its direction of other parts of the\nbody.\n\nWhat tremendous and unnecessary force is used in talking,--from the\naimless motion of the hands, the shoulders, the feet, the entire\nbody, to a certain rigidity of carriage, which tells as powerfully\nin the wear and tear of the nervous system as superfluous motion. It\nis a curious discovery when we find often how we are holding our\nshoulders in place, and in the wrong place. A woman receiving a\nvisitor not only talks all over herself, but reflects the visitor's\ntalking all over, and so at the end of the visit is doubly fatigued.\n\"It tires me so to see people\" is heard often, not only from those\nwho are under the full influence of \"Americanitis,\" but from many\nwho are simply hovering about its borders. \"Of course it tires you\nto see people, you see them with, so much superfluous effort,\" can\nalmost without exception be a true answer. A very little simple\nteaching will free a woman from that unnecessary fatigue. If she is\nsensible, once having had her attention brought and made keenly\nalive to the fact that she talks all over, she will through\nconstant correction gain the power of talking as Nature meant she\nshould, with her vocal apparatus only, and with such easy motions as\nmay be needed to illustrate her words. In this change, so far from\nlosing animation, she gains it, and gains true expressive power; for\nall unnecessary motion of the body in talking simply raises a dust,\nso to speak, and really blurs the true thought of the mind and\nfeeling of the heart.\n\nThe American voice--especially the female voice--is a target which\nhas been hit hard many times, and very justly. A ladies' luncheon\ncan often be truly and aptly compared to a poultry-yard, the shrill\ncackle being even more unpleasant than that of a large concourse of\nhens. If we had once become truly appreciative of the natural mellow\ntones possible to every woman, these shrill voices would no more be\ntolerated than a fashionable luncheon would be served in the\nkitchen.\n\nA beautiful voice has been compared to corn, oil, and wine. We lack\nalmost entirely the corn and the oil; and the wine in our voices is\nfar more inclined to the sharp, unpleasant taste of very poor\ncurrant wine, than to the rich, spicy flavor of fine wine from the\ngrape. It is not in the province of this book to consider the\nphysiology of the voice, which would be necessary in order to show\nclearly how its natural laws are constantly disobeyed. We can now\nspeak of it only with regard to the tension which is the immediate\ncause of the trouble. The effort to propel the voice from the\nthroat, and use force in those most delicate muscles when it should\ncome from the stronger muscles of the diaphragm, is like trying to\nmake one man do the work of ten; the result must eventually be the\nutter collapse of the one man from over-activity, and loss of power\nin the ten men because of muscles unused. Clergyman's sore throat is\nalmost always explainable in this way; and there are many laymen\nwith constant trouble in the throat from no cause except the misuse\nof its muscles in talking. \"The old philosopher said the seat of the\nsoul was in the diaphragm. However that may be, the word begins\nthere, soul and body; but you squeeze the life out of it in your\nthroat, and so your words are born dead!\" was the most expressive\nexclamation of an able trainer of the voice.\n\nFew of us feel that we can take the time or exercise the care for\nthe proper training of our voices; and such training is not made a\nprominent feature, as it should be, in all American schools. Indeed,\nif it were, we would have to begin with the teachers; for the\ntypical teacher's voice, especially in our public schools, coming\nfrom unnecessary nervous strain is something frightful. In a large\nschool-room a teacher can be heard, and more impressively heard, in\ncommon conversational tones; for then it is her mind that is felt\nmore than her body. But the teacher's voice mounts the scale of\nshrillness and force just in proportion as her nervous fatigue\nincreases; and often a true enthusiasm expresses itself--or, more\ncorrectly, hides itself--in a sharp, loud voice, when it would be\nfar more effective in its power with the pupils if the voice were\nkept quiet. If we cannot give time or money to the best development\nof our voices, we can grow sensitive to the shrill, unpleasant\ntones, and by a constant preaching of \"lower your voices,\" \"speak\nmore quietly,\" from the teacher to herself, and then to her pupils,\nfrom mother to child, and from every woman to her own voice, the\nstandard American voice would change, greatly to the national\nadvantage.\n\nI never shall forget the restful pleasure of hearing a teacher call\nthe roll in a large schoolroom as quietly as she would speak to a\nchild in a closet, and every girl answering in the same soft and\npleasant way. The effect even of that daily roll-call could not have\nbeen small in its counteracting influence on the shrill American\ntone.\n\nWatch two people in an argument, as the excitement increases the\nvoice rises. In such a case one of the best and surest ways to\ngovern your temper is to lower your voice. Indeed the nervous system\nand the voice are in such exquisite sympathy that they constantly\nact and react on each other. It is always easier to relax\nsuperfluous tension after lowering the voice.\n\n\"Take the bone and flesh sound from your voice\" is a simple and\ninteresting direction. It means do not push so hard with your body\nand so interfere with the expression of your soul. Thumping on a\npiano, or hard scraping on a violin, will keep all possible\nexpression from the music, and in just the same proportion will\nunnecessary physical force hide the soul in a voice. Indeed with the\nvoice--because the instrument is finer--the contrast between\nNature's way and man's perversion is far greater.\n\nOne of the first cares with a nervous invalid, or with any one who\nsuffers at all from overstrained nerves, should be for a quiet,\nmellow voice. It is not an invariable truth that women with poorly\nbalanced nerves have shrill, strained voices. There is also a rigid\ntone in a nervously low voice, which, though not unpleasant to the\ngeneral ear, is expressive to one who is in the habit of noticing\nnervous people, and is much more difficult to relax than the high\npitched voices. There is also a forced calm which is tremendous in\nits nervous strain, the more so as its owner takes pride in what she\nconsiders remarkable self-control.\n\nAnother common cause of fatigue with women is the useless strain in\nsewing. \"I get so tired in the back of my neck\" is a frequent\ncomplaint. \"It is because you sew with the back of your neck\" is\ngenerally the correct explanation. And it is because you sew with\nthe muscles of your waist that they feel so strangely fatigued, and\nthe same with the muscles of your legs or your chest. Wherever the\ntired feeling comes it is because of unnatural and officious\ntension, which, as soon as the woman becomes sensible of it, can be\nstopped entirely by taking two or three minutes now and then to let\ngo of these wrongly sympathetic muscles and so teach them to mind\ntheir own business, and sew with only the muscles that are needed. A\nvery simple cause of over-fatigue in sewing is the cramped, strained\nposition of the lungs; this can be prevented without even stopping\nin the work, by taking long, quiet, easy breaths. Here there must be\n_no exertion whatever_ in the chest muscles. The lungs must seem to\nexpand from the pressure of the air alone, as independently as a\nrubber ball will expand when external pressure is removed, and they\nmust be allowed to expel the air with the same independence. In this\nway the growth of breathing power will be slow, but it will be sure\nand delightfully restful. Frequent, full, quiet breaths might be the\nmeans of relief to many sufferers, if only they would take the\ntrouble to practise them faithfully,--a very slight effort compared\nwith the result which will surely ensue. And so it is with the\nfatigue from sewing. I fear I do not exaggerate, when I say that in\nnine cases out of ten a woman would rather sew with a pain in her\nneck than stop for the few moments it would take to relax it and\nteach it truer habits, so that in the end the pain might be avoided\nentirely. Then, when the inevitable nervous exhaustion follows, and\nall the kindred troubles that grow out of it she pities herself and\nis pitied by others, and wonders why God thought best to afflict her\nwith suffering and illness. \"Thought best!\" God never thought best\nto give any one pain. He made His laws, and they are wholesome and\nperfect and true, and if we disobey them we must suffer the\nconsequences! I knock my head hard against a stone and then wonder\nwhy God thought best to give me the headache. There would be as much\nsense in that as there is in much of the so-called Christian\nresignation to be found in the world to-day. To be sure there are\ninherited illnesses and pains, physical and mental, but the laws are\nso made that the compensation of clear-sightedness and power for use\ngained by working our way rightly out of all inheritances and\nsuffering brought by others, fully equalizes any apparent loss.\n\nIn writing there is much unnecessary nervous fatigue. The same\ncramped attitude of the lungs that accompanies sewing can be\ncounteracted in the same way, although in neither case should a\ncramped attitude be allowed at all Still the relief of a long breath\nis always helpful and even necessary where one must sit in one\nposition for any length of time. Almost any even moderately nervous\nman or woman will hold a pen as if some unseen force were trying to\npull it away, and will write with firmly set jaw, contracted throat,\nand a powerful tension in the muscles of the tongue, or whatever\nhappens to be the most officious part of this especial individual\ncommunity. To swing the pendulum to another extreme seems not to\nenter people's minds when trying to find a happy medium. Writer's\nparalysis, or even the ache that comes from holding the hand so long\nin a more or less cramped attitude, is easily obviated by stopping\nonce in an hour or half hour, stretching the fingers wide and\nletting the muscles slowly relax of their own accord. Repeat this\nhalf-a-dozen times, and after each exercise try to hold the pen or\npencil with natural lightness; it will not take many days to change\nthe habit of tension to one of ease, although if you are a steady\nwriter the stretching exercise will always be necessary, but much\nless often than at first.\n\nIn lifting a heavyweight, as in nursing the sick, the relief is\nimmediate from all straining in the back, by pressing hard with the\nfeet on the floor and _thinking_ the power of lifting in the legs.\nThere is true economy of nervous force here, and a sensitive spine\nis freed from a burden of strain which might undoubtedly be the\norigin of nervous prostration. I have made nurses practise lifting,\nwhile impressing the fact forcibly upon them by repetition before\nthey lift, and during the process of raising a body and lowering it,\nthat they must use entirely the muscles of the legs. When once their\nminds have full comprehension of the new way, the surprise with\nwhich they discover the comparative ease of lifting is very\npleasant. The whole secret in this and all similar efforts is to use\nmuscular instead of nervous force. Direct with the directing power;\nwork with the working power.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nTHE DIRECTION OF THE BODY IN LOCOMOTION\n\n\n\n\n\nLIFTING brings us to the use of the entire body, which is considered\nsimply in the most common of all its movements,--that of walking.\n\nThe rhythm of a perfect walk is not only delightful, but restful; so\nthat having once gained a natural walk there is no pleasanter way to\nrest from brain fatigue than by means of this muscle fatigue. And\nyet we are constantly contradicting and interfering with Nature in\nwalking. Women--perhaps partly owing to their unfortunate style of\ndress--seem to hold themselves together as if fearing that having\nonce given their muscles free play, they would fall to pieces\nentirely. Rather than move easily forward, and for fear they might\ntumble to pieces, they shake their shoulders and hips from side to\nside, hold their arms perfectly rigid from the shoulders down, and\ninstead of the easy, natural swing that the motion of walking would\ngive the arms, they go forward and back with no regularity, but are\nin a chronic state of jerk. The very force used in holding an arm as\nstiff as the ordinary woman holds it, would be enough to give her an\nextra mile in every five-mile walk. Then again, the muscles of the\nthroat must help, and more than anywhere else is force unnecessarily\nexpended in the waist muscles. They can be very soon felt, pushing\nwith all their might--and it is not a small might--officiously\ntrying to assist in the action of the legs; whereas if they would\nonly let go, mind their own business, and let the legs swing easily\nas if from the shoulders, they might reflect the rhythmic motion,\nand gain in a true freedom and power. Of course all this waste of\nforce comes from nervous strain and is nervous strain, and a long\nwalk in the open air, when so much of the new life gained is wrongly\nexpended, does not begin to do the good work that might be\naccomplished. To walk with your muscles and not use superfluous\nnervous force is the first thing to be learned, and after or at the\nsame time to direct your muscles as Nature meant they should be\ndirected,--indeed we might almost say to let Nature direct them\nherself, without our interference. Hurry with your muscles and not\nwith your nerves. This tells especially in hurrying for a train,\nwhere the nervous anxiety in the fear of losing it wakes all\npossible unnecessary tension and often impedes the motion instead of\nassisting it. The same law applies here that was mentioned before\nwith regard to the carriage,--only instead of being quiet and\nletting the carriage take you, be quiet and let your walking machine\ndo its work. So in all hurrying, and the warning can hardly be given\ntoo many times, we must use our nerves only as transmitters--calm,\nwell-balanced transmitters--that our muscles may be more efficient\nand more able servants.\n\nThe same mistakes of unnecessary tension will be found in running,\nand, indeed, in all bodily motion, where the machine is not trained\nto do its work with only the nerves and muscles needed for the\npurpose. We shall have opportunity to consider these motions in a\nnew light when we come to the directions for gaining a power of\nnatural motion; now we are dealing only with mistakes.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nNERVOUS STRAIN IN PAIN AND SICKNESS\n\n\n\n\n\nTHERE is no way in which superfluous and dangerous tension is so\nrapidly increased as in the bearing of pain. The general impression\nseems to be that one should brace up to a pain; and very great\nstrength of will is often shown in the effort made and the success\nachieved in bearing severe pain by means of this bracing process.\nBut alas, the reaction after the pain is over--that alone would show\nthe very sad misuse which had been made of a strong will. Not that\nthere need be no reaction; but it follows naturally that the more\nstrain brought to bear upon the nervous system in endurance, the\ngreater must be the reaction when the load is lifted. Indeed, so\nwell is this known in the medical profession, that it is a surgical\naxiom that the patient who most completely controls his expression\nof pain will be the greatest sufferer from the subsequent reaction.\nWhile there is so much pain to be endured in this world, a study of\nhow best to bear it certainly is not out of place, especially when\ndecided practical effects can be quickly shown as the result of such\nstudy. So prevalent is the idea that a pain is better borne by\nclinching the fists and tightening all other muscles in the body\ncorrespondingly, that I know the possibility of a better or more\nnatural mode of endurance will be laughed at by many, and others\nwill say, \"That is all very well for those who can relax to a\npain,--let them gain from it, I cannot; it is natural for me to set\nmy teeth and bear it.\" There is a distinct difference between what\nis natural to us and natural to Nature, although the first term is\nof course misused.\n\nPain comes from an abnormal state of some part of the nervous\nsystem. The more the nerves are strained to bear pain, the more\nsensitive they become; and of course those affected immediately feel\nmost keenly the increased sensitiveness, and so the pain grows\nworse. Reverse that action, and through the force of our own\ninhibitory power let a new pain be a reminder to us to _let go,_\ninstead of to hold on, and by decreasing the strain we decrease the\npossibility of more pain. Whatever reaction may follow pain then,\nwill be reaction from the pain itself, not from the abnormal tension\nwhich has been held for the purpose of bearing it.\n\nBut--it will be objected--is not the very effort of the brain to\nrelax the tension a nervous strain? Yes, it is,--not so great,\nhowever, as the continued tension all over the body, and it grows\nless and less as the habit is acquired of bearing the pain easily.\nThe strain decreases more rapidly with those who having undertaken\nto relax, perceive the immediate effects; for, of course, as the\npath clears and new light comes they are encouraged to walk more\nsteadily in the easier way.\n\nI know there are pains that are better borne and even helped by a\ncertain amount of _bracing,_ but if the idea of bearing such pain\nquietly, easily, naturally, takes a strong hold of the mind, all\nbracing will be with a true equilibrium of the muscles, and will\nhave the required effect without superfluous tension.\n\nOne of the most simple instances of bearing pain more easily by\nrelaxing to it occurs while sitting in the dentist's chair. Most of\nus clutch the arms, push with our feet, and hold ourselves off the\nchair to the best of our ability. Every nerve is alive with the\nexpectation of being hurt.\n\nThe fatigue which results from an hour or more of this dentist\ntension is too well known to need description. Most of the nervous\nfatigue suffered from the dentist's work is in consequence of the\nunnecessary strain of expecting a hurt and not from any actual pain\ninflicted. The result obtained by insisting upon making yourself a\ndead weight in the chair, if you succeed only partially, will prove\nthis. It will also be a preliminary means of getting well rid of the\ndentist fright,--that peculiar dread which is so well known to most\nof us. The effect of fright is nervous strain, which again contracts\nthe muscles. If we drop the muscular tension, and so the nervous\nstrain, thus working our way into the cause by means of the effect,\nthere will be no nerves or muscles to hold the fright, which then so\nfar as the physique is concerned cannot exist. _So far as the\nphysique is concerned,--_that is emphatic; for as we work inward\nfrom the effect to the cause we must be met by the true philosophy\ninside, to accomplish the whole work. I might relax my body out of\nthe nervous strain of fright all day; if my mind insisted upon being\nfrightened it would simply be a process of freeing my nerves and\nmuscles that they might be made more effectually tense by an\nunbalanced, miserably controlled mind. In training to bring body and\nmind to a more normal state, the teacher must often begin with the\nbody only, and use his own mind to gently lead the pupil to clearer\nsight. Then when the pupil can strike the equilibrium between mind\nand body,--he must be left to acquire the habit for himself.\n\nThe same principles by which bearing the work of the dentist is made\neasier, are applicable in all pain, and especially helpful when pain\nis nervously exaggerated. It would be useless and impossible to\nfollow the list of various pains which we attempt to bear by means\nof additional strain.\n\nEach of us has his own personal temptation in the way of pain,--from\nthe dentist's chair to the most severe suffering, or the most\npainful operation,--and each can apply for himself the better way of\nbearing it. And it is not perhaps out of place here to speak of the\ntaking of ether or any anaesthetic before an operation. The power of\nrelaxing to the process easily and quietly brings a quicker and\npleasanter effect with less disagreeable results. One must take\nether easily in mind and body. It a man forces himself to be quiet\nexternally, and is frightened and excited mentally, as soon as he\nhas become unconscious enough to lose control of his voluntary\nmuscles, the impression of fright made upon the brain asserts\nitself, and he struggles and resists in proportion.\n\nThese same principles of repose should be applied in illness when it\ncomes in other forms than that of pain. We can easily increase\nwhatever illness may attack us by the nervous strain which comes\nfrom fright, anxiety, or annoyance. I have seen a woman retain a\nsevere cold for days more than was necessary, simply because of the\nchronic state of strain she kept herself in by fretting about it;\nand in another unpleasantly amusing case the sufferer's constantly\nexpressed annoyance took the form of working almost without\nintermission to find remedies for herself. Without using patience\nenough to wait for the result of one remedy, she would rush to\nanother until she became--so to speak--twisted and snarled in the\nmeshes of a cold which it took weeks thoroughly to cure. This is not\nuncommon, and not confined merely to a cold in the head.\n\nWe can increase the suffering of friends through \"sympathy\" given in\nthe same mistaken way by which we increase our own pain, or keep\nourselves longer than necessary in an uncomfortable illness.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nNERVOUS STRAIN IN THE EMOTIONS\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE most intense suffering which follows a misuse of the nervous\npower comes from exaggerated, unnecessary, or sham emotions. We each\nhave our own emotional microscope, and the strength of its lens\nincreases in proportion to the supersensitiveness of our nervous\nsystem. If we are a little tired, an emotion which in itself might\nhardly be noticed, so slight is the cause and so small the result,\nwill be magnified many times. If we are very tired, the magnifying\nprocess goes on until often we have made ourselves ill through\nvarious sufferings, all of our own manufacture.\n\nThis increase of emotion has not always nervous fatigue as an\nexcuse. Many people have inherited emotional magnifying glasses, and\ncarry them through the world, getting and giving unnecessary pain,\nand losing more than half of the delight of life in failing to get\nan unprejudiced view of it. If the tired man or woman would have the\ngood sense to stop for one minute and use the power which is given\nus all of understanding and appreciating our own perverted states\nand so move on to better, how easy it would be to recognize that a\nfeeling is exaggerated because of fatigue, and wait until we have\ngained the power to drop our emotional microscopes and save all the\nevil results of allowing nervous excitement to control us. We are\neven permitted to see clearly an inherited tendency to magnify\nemotions and to overcome it to such an extent that life seems new to\nus. This must be done by the individual himself, through a personal\nappreciation of his own mistakes and active steps to free himself\nfrom them. No amount of talking, persuading, or teaching will be of\nthe slightest service until that personal recognition comes. This\nhas been painfully proved too often by those who see a friend\nsuffering unnecessarily, and in the short-sighted attempt to wrench\nthe emotional microscope from his hand, simply cause the hold to\ntighten and the magnifying power to increase. A careful, steady\ntraining of the physique opens the way for a better practice of the\nwholesome philosophy, and the microscope drops with the relaxation\nof the external tension which has helped to hold it.\n\nEmotions are often not even exaggerated but are from the beginning\nimaginary; and there are no more industrious imps of evil than these\nsham feelings. The imps have no better field for their destructive\nwork than in various forms of morbid, personal attachment, and in\nwhat is commonly called religion,--but which has no more to do with\ngenuine religion than the abnormal personal likings have to do with\nlove.\n\nIt is a fact worthy of notice that the two powers most helpful, most\nstrengthening, when sincerely felt and realized, are the ones\noftenest perverted and shammed, through morbid states and abnormal\nnervous excitement. The sham is often so perfect an image of the\nreality that even the shammer is deceived.\n\nTo tell one of these pseudo-religious women that the whole attitude\nof her externally sanctified life is a sham emotion, would rouse\nanything but a saintly spirit, and surprise her beyond measure. Yet\nthe contrast between the true, healthful, religious feeling and the\nsham is perfectly marked, even though both classes follow the same\nforms and belong to the same charitable societies. With the one,\nreligion seems to be an accomplishment, with a rivalry as to who can\ncarry it to the finest point; with the other, it is a steadily\ngrowing power of wholesome use.\n\nThis nervous strain from sham emotions, it must be confessed, is\nmore common to the feminine nature. So dangerously prevalent is it\nthat in every girls' school a true repression of the sham and a\ndevelopment of real feeling should be the thoughtful, silent effort\nof all the teachers. Any one who knows young girls feels deeply the\nterrible harm which comes to them in the weakening of their\ndelicate, nervous systems through morbid, emotional excitement. The\nemotions are vividly real to the girls, but entirely sham in\nthemselves. Great care must be taken to respect the sense of reality\nwhich a young girl has in these mistakes, until she can be led out\nso far that she herself recognizes the sham; then will come a\nhearty, wholesome desire to be free from it.\n\nA school governed by a woman with strong \"magnetism,\" and an equally\nstrong love of admiration and devotion, can be kept in a chronic\nstate of hysteria by the emotional affection of the girls for their\nteacher. When they cannot reach the teacher they will transfer the\nfeeling to one another. Where this is allowed to pervade the\natmosphere of a girls' school, those who escape floods of tears or\nother acute hysterical symptoms are the dull, phlegmatic\ntemperaments.\n\nOften a girt will go from one of these morbid attachments to\nanother, until she seems to have lost the power for a good,\nwholesome affection. Strange as it may seem, the process is a steady\nhardening of the heart. The same result comes to man or woman who\nhas followed a series of emotional flirtations,--the perceptions are\ndulled, and the whole tone of the system, mental and physical, is\nweakened. The effect is in exact correspondence in another degree\nwith the result which follows an habitual use of stimulants.\n\nMost abnormal emotional states are seen in women--and sometimes in\nmen--who believe themselves in love. The suffering is to them very\nreal. It seems cruel to say, \"My dear, you are not in the least in\nlove with that man; you are in love with your own emotions. If some\none more attractive should appear, you could at once transfer your\nemotional tortures to the seemingly more worthy object.\" Such ideas\nneed not be flung in so many words at a woman, but she may be gently\nled until she sees clearly for herself the mistake, and will even\nlaugh at the morbid sensations that before seemed to her terribly\nreal.\n\nHow many foolish, almost insane actions of men and women come from\nsham emotions and the nervous excitement generated by them, or from\nnervous excitement and the sham emotions that result in consequence!\n\nCare should be taken first to change the course of the nervous power\nthat is expressing itself morbidly, to open for it a healthy outlet,\nto guide it into that more wholesome channel, and then help the\nowner to a better control and a clearer understanding, that she may\ngain a healthy use of her wonderful nervous power. A gallop on\nhorseback, a good swim, fresh air taken with any form of wholesome\nfun and exercise is the way to begin if possible. A woman who has\nhad all the fresh air and interesting exercise she needs, will shake\noff the first sign of morbid emotions as she would shake off a rat\nor any other vermin.\n\nTo one who is interested to study the possible results of\nmisdirected nervous power, nothing could illustrate it with more\npainful force than the story by Rudyard Kipling, \"In the Matter of a\nPrivate.\"\n\nReal emotions, whether painful or delightful, leave one eventually\nwith a new supply of strength; the sham, without exception, leave\ntheir victim weaker, physically and mentally, unless they are\nrecognized as sham, and voluntarily dismissed by the owner of the\nnerves that have been rasped by them. It is an inexpressibly sad\nsight to see a woman broken, down and an invalid, for no reason\nwhatever but the unnecessary nervous excitement of weeks and months\nof sham emotion. Hardly too strong an appeal can be made to mothers\nand teachers for a careful watchfulness of their girls, that their\nemotions be kept steadily wholesome, so that they may grow and\ndevelop into that great power for use and healthful sympathy which\nalways belongs to a woman of fine feeling.\n\nThere is a term used in college which describes most expressively an\nintense nervous excitement and want of control,--namely, \"dry\ndrunk.\" It has often seemed to me that sham emotions are a woman's\nform of getting drunk, and nervous prostration is its delirium\ntremens. Not the least of the suffering caused by emotional\nexcitement comes from mistaken sympathy with others. Certain people\nseem to live on the principle that if a friend is in a swamp, it is\nnecessary to plunge in with him; and that if the other man is up to\nhis waist, the sympathizer shows his friendliness by allowing the\nmud to come up to his neck. Whereas, it is evident that the deeper\nmy friend is immersed in a swamp, the more sure I must be to keep on\nfirm ground that I may help him out; and sometimes I cannot even\ngive my hand, but must use a long pole, the more surely to relieve\nhim from danger. It is the same with a mental or moral swamp, or\nmost of all with a nervous swamp, and yet so little do people\nappreciate the use of this long pole that if I do not cry when my\nfriend cries, moan when my friend moans, and persistently refuse to\nplunge into the same grief that I may be of more real use in helping\nhim out of it, I am accused by my friend and my friend's friend of\ncoldness and want of sympathy. People have been known to refuse the\nother end of your pole because you will not leave it and come into\nthe swamp with them.\n\nIt is easy to see why this mistaken sympathy is the cause of great\nunnecessary nervous strain. The head nurse of a hospital in one of\nour large cities was interrupted while at dinner by the deep\ninterest taken by the other nurses in seeing an accident case\nbrought in. When the man was put out of sight the nurses lost their\nappetite from sympathy; and the forcible way with which their\nsuperior officer informed them that if they had any real sympathy\nfor the man they would eat to gain strength to serve him, gave a\nlesson by which many nervous sympathizers could greatly profit.\n\nOf course it is possible to become so hardened that you \"eat your\ndinner\" from a want of feeling, and to be consumed only with\nsympathy for yourself; but it is an easy matter to make the\ndistinction between a strong, wholesome sympathy and selfish want of\nfeeling, and easier to distinguish between the sham sympathy and the\nreal. The first causes you to lose nervous strength, the second\ngives you new power for wholesome use to others.\n\nIn all the various forms of nervous strain, which we study to avoid,\nlet us realize and turn from false sympathy as one to be especially\nand entirely shunned.\n\nSham emotions are, of course, always misdirected force; but it is\nnot unusual to see a woman suffering from nervous prostration caused\nby nervous power lying idle. This form of invalidism comes to women\nwho have not enough to fill their lives in necessary interest and\nwork, and have not thought of turning or been willing to turn their\nattention to some needed charity or work for others. A woman in this\nstate is like a steam-engine with the fire in full blast, and the\nboiler shaking with the power of steam not allowed to escape in\nmotive force.\n\nA somewhat unusual example of this is a young woman who had been\nbrought up as a nervous invalid, had been through nervous\nprostration once, and was about preparing for another attack, when\nshe began to work for a better control of her nervous force. After\ngaining a better use of her machine, she at once applied its power\nto work,--gradually at first and then more and more, until she found\nherself able to endure what others had to give up as beyond their\nstrength.\n\nThe help for these, and indeed for all cases, is to make the life\nobjective instead of subjective. \"Look out, not in; look up, not\ndown; lend a hand,\" is the motto that must be followed gently and\ngradually, but _surely,_ to cure or to prevent a case of\n\"Americanitis.\"\n\nBut again, good sense and care must be taken to preserve the\nequilibrium; for nervous tension and all the suffering that it\nbrings come more often from mistaken devotion to others than from a\nwant of care for them. Too many of us are trying to make special\nProvidences of ourselves for our friends. To say that this\nshort-sighted martyrdom is not only foolish but selfish seems hard,\nbut a little thought will show it to be so.\n\nA woman sacrifices her health in over-exertion for a friend. If she\ndoes not distress the object of her devotion entirely out of\nproportion to the use she performs, she at least unfits herself, by\nover-working, for many other uses, and causes more suffering than\nshe saves. So are the great ends sacrificed to the smaller.\n\n\"If you only knew how hard I am trying to do right\" comes with a\nstrained face and nervous voice from many and many a woman. If she\ncould only learn in this case, as in others, of \"vaulting ambition\nthat o'er-leaps itself and falls upon the other side;\" if she could\nonly realize that the very strained effort with which she tries,\nmakes it impossible for her to gain,--if she would only \"relax\" to\nwhatever she has to do, and then try, the gain would be\nincomparable.\n\nThe most intense sufferers from nervous excitement are those who\nsuppress any sign of their feeling. The effort to \"hold in\"\nincreases the nervous strain immensely. As in the case of one\netherized, who has suppressed fright which he feels very keenly, as\nsoon as the voluntary muscles are relaxed the impression on the\nbrain shows itself with all the vehemence of the feeling,--so when\nthe muscles are consciously relaxed the nervous excitement bursts\nforth like the eruption of a small volcano, and for a time is a\nsurprise to the man or woman who has been in a constant effort of\nsuppression.\n\nThe contrast between true self-control and that which is merely\nrepressed feeling, is, like all contrast between the natural and the\nartificial, immeasurable; and the steadily increasing power to be\ngained by true self-control cannot be conveyed in words, but must be\nexperienced in actual use.\n\nMany of us know with what intense force a temper masters us when,\nhaving held in for some time, some spring is touched which makes\nsilence impossible, and the sense of relief which follows a volley\nof indignant words. To say that we can get a far greater and more\nlasting relief without a word, but simply through relaxing our\nmuscles and freeing our excited nerves, seems tame; but it is\npractically true, and is indeed the only way from a physical\nstandpoint that one may be sure of controlling a high temper. In\nthat way, also, we keep the spirit, the power, the strength, from\nwhich the temper comes, and so far from being tame, life has more\nfor us. We do not tire ourselves and lose nervous force through the\nwear and tear of losing our temper. To speak expressively, if not\nscientifically, Let go, and let the temper slip over your nerves and\noff,--you do not lose it then, for you know where it is, and you\nkeep all the nervous force that would have been used in suppression\nor expression for better work.\n\nThat, the reader will say, is not so easy as it sounds. Granted,\nthere must be the desire to get a true control of the temper; but\nmost of us have that desire, and while we cannot expect immediate\nsuccess, steady practice will bring startling results sooner than we\nrealize. There must be a clear, intelligent understanding of what we\nare aiming at, and how to gain it; but that is not difficult, and\nonce recognized grows steadily as we gain practical results. Let the\nfirst feeling of anger be a reminder to \"let go.\" But you will say,\n\"I do not want to let go,\"--only because your various grandfathers\nand grandmothers were unaccustomed to relieving themselves in that\nmanner. When we give way to anger and let it out in a volley of\nwords, there is often a sense of relief, but more often a reaction\nwhich is most unpleasant, and is greatly increased by the pain given\nto others. The relief is certain if we \"relax;\" and not only is\nthere then no painful reaction, but we gain a clear head to\nrecognize the justice or injustice of our indignation, and to see\nwhat can be done about its cause.\n\nPetty irritability can be met in the same way. As with nervous pain\nit seems at first impossible to \"relax to it;\" but the Rubicon once\ncrossed, we cannot long be irritable,--it is so much simpler not to\nbe, and so much more comfortable.\n\nIf when we are tempted to fly into a rage or to snap irritably at\nothers we could go through a short process of relaxing motions, the\neffect would be delightful. But that would be ridiculous; and we\nmust do our relaxing in the privacy of the closet and recall it when\nneeded outside, that we may relax without observation except in its\nhappy results. I know people will say that anything to divert the\nmind will cure a high temper or irritability. That is only so to a\nlimited extent; and so far as it is so, simply proves the best\nprocess of control. Diversion relieves the nervous excitement,\nturning the attention in another direction,--and so is relaxing so\nfar as it goes.\n\nMuch quicker and easier than self-control is the control which\nallows us to meet the irritability of others without echoing it. The\ntemptation to echo a bad temper or an irritable disposition in\nothers, we all know; but the relief which comes to ourselves and to\nthe sufferer as we quietly relax and refuse to reflect it, is a\nsensation that many of us have yet to experience. One keeps a clear\nhead in that way, not to mention a charitable heart; saves any\nquantity of nervous strain, and keeps off just so much tendency to\nnervous prostration.\n\nPractically the way is opened to this better control through a\nphysical training which gives us the power of relaxing at will, and\nso of maintaining a natural, wholesome equilibrium of nerves and\nmuscles.\n\nPersonal sensitiveness is, to a great degree, a form of nervous\ntension. An individual case of the relief of this sensitiveness,\nalthough laughable in the means of cure, is so perfectly\nillustrative of it that it is worth telling. A lady who suffered\nvery much from having her feelings hurt came to me for advice. I\ntold her whenever anything was said to wound her, at once to imagine\nher legs heavy,--that relaxed her muscles, freed her nerves, and\nrelieved the tension caused by her sensitive feelings. The cure\nseemed to her wonderful. It would not have done for her to think a\ntable heavy, or a chair, or to have diverted her mind in any other\nway, for it was the effect of relaxation in her own body that she\nwanted, which came from persistently thinking her legs heavy.\nNeither could her sensitiveness have taken a very deep hold, or mere\noutside relaxation would not have reached it; but that outside\nprocess had the effect of greatly assisting in the power to use a\nhigher philosophy with the mind.\n\nSelf-consciousness and all the personal annoyances that come with or\nfollow it are to so great an extent nervous tension, that the ease\nwith which they may be helped seems sometimes like a miracle to\nthose who study for a better guidance of their bodies.\n\nOf worries, from the big worries with a real foundation to the\nmiserable, petty, nagging worries that wear a woman's nervous system\nmore than any amount of steady work, there is so much to be said\nthat it would prove tedious, and indeed unnecessary to recount them.\nA few words will suggest enough toward their remedy to those who are\nlooking in the right direction, and to others many words would be of\nno avail.\n\nThe petty worries are the most wearing, and they fortunately are the\nmost easily helped. By relaxing the muscular contractions invariably\naccompanying them we seem to make an open channel, and they slip\nthrough,--which expression I am well aware is not scientific. The\ncommon saying, \"Cares roll off her like water off a duck's back,\"\nmeans the same thing. Some human ducks are made with backs eminently\nfitted for cares to slip from; but those whose backs seem to be made\nto hold the cares can remould themselves to the right proportions,\nand there is great compensation in their appreciation of the\ncontrast.\n\nNever resist a worry. It is increased many times by the effort to\novercome it. The strain of the effort makes it constantly more\ndifficult to drop the strain of the worry. When we quietly go to\nwork to relax the muscles and so quiet the nerves, ignoring a worry,\nthe way in which it disappears is surprising. Then is the time to\nmeet it with a broad philosophizing on the uselessness of worry,\netc., and \"clinch\" our freedom, so to speak.\n\nIt is not at the first attempt to relax, or the second, or the\nninth, that the worry will disappear for many of us, and especially\nfor worriers. It takes many hours to learn what relaxing is; but\nhaving once learned, its helpful power is too evident for us not to\nkeep at it, if we really desire to gain our freedom.\n\nTo give the same direction to a worrier that was so effective with\nthe woman whose feelings were easily hurt, may seem equally\nridiculous; but in many cases it will certainly prove most useful.\nWhen you begin to worry, think your legs heavy. Your friends will\nappreciate the relief more than you do, and will gain as you gain.\n\nA recital of all the emotional disturbances which seem to have so\nstrong a hold on us, and which are merely misdirected nervous force,\nmight easily fill a volume; but a few of the most common troubles,\nsuch as have been given, will perhaps suffice to help each\nindividual to understand his own especial temptations in that\ndirection,--and if I have made even partially clear the ease with\nwhich they may be relieved through careful physical training, it is\nall I can hope for.\n\nThe body must be trained to obey the mind; the mind must be trained\nto give the body commands worth obeying.\n\nThe real feelings of life are too exquisite and strengthening in\ntheir depth and power to be crowded out by those gross forms of\nnervous excitement which I can find no better name for than sham\nemotions. If we could only realize this more broadly, and bring up\nthe children with a wholesome dread of morbid feeling what a marked\nchange would there be in the state of the entire race!\n\nAll physicians agree that in most cases it is not overwork, it is\nnot mental strain, that causes the greater number of cases of\nnervous disturbance, but that they are more often brought on by\nemotional strain.\n\nThe deepest grief, as well as the greatest joy, can be met in a way\nto give new strength and new power for use if we have a sound\nphilosophy and a well-guided, wholesome body to meet it. But these\nlast are the work of years; and neither the philosophy nor the\nphysical strength can be brought to bear at short notice, although\nwe can do much toward a better equilibrium even late in life.\n\nVarious forms of egotism, if not exactly sham emotions, are the\ncauses of great nervous strain. Every physician knows the intense\negotism which often comes with nervous prostration. Some one has\nvery aptly said that insanity is only egotism gone to seed. It often\nseems so, especially when it begins with nervous prostration. We\ncannot be too careful to shun this nervous over-care for self.\n\nWe inherit so strongly the subjective way of living rather than the\nobjective, that it impresses itself upon our very nerves; and they,\ninstead of being open channels for the power always at our command\nto pass freely to the use for which it is intended, stop the way by\nmeans of the attention which is so uselessly turned back on\nourselves, our narrow personal interests, and our own welfare. How\noften we see cases where by means of the nervous tension all this\nhas increased to a disease, and the tiresome _Ego_ is a monster in\nthe way of its owner and all his would-be friends. \"I cannot bear\nthis.\" \"I shall take cold.\" \"If you only knew how I suffered.\" Why\nshould we know, unless through knowing we can give you some relief?\nAnd so it goes, I--I--I--forever, and the more the more nervous\nprostration.\n\nKeep still, that all which is good may come to you, and live out to\nothers that your life may broaden for use. In this way we can take\nall that Nature is ready to give us, and will constantly give us,\nand use it as hers and for her purposes, which are always the truest\nand best Then we live as a little child would live,--only with more\nwisdom.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nNATURE'S TEACHING\n\n\n\n\n\nNATURE is not only our one guide in the matter of physical training,\nshe is the chief engineer who will keep us in order and control the\nmachine, if we aim to fulfil her conditions and shun every personal\ninterference with the wholesome working of her laws.\n\nHere is where the exquisite sense of growing power comes. In\nstudying Nature, we not only realize the strength that comes from\nfollowing her lead, but we discover her in ourselves gently moving\nus onward.\n\nWe all believe we look to Nature, if we think at all; and it is a\nsurprise to find how mistaken we are. The time would not be wasted\nif we whose duties do not lead us to any direct study of natural\nlife for personal reasons, would take fifteen minutes every day\nsimply to think of Nature and her methods of working, and to see at\nthe same time where, so far as we individually are concerned, we\nconstantly interfere with the best use of her powers. With all\nreverence I say it, this should be the first form of prayer; and our\nability to pray sincerely to God and live in accordance with His\nlaws would grow in proportion to our power of sincere sympathy with\nthe workings of those laws in Nature.\n\nTry to realize the quiet power of all natural growth and movement,\nfrom a blade of grass, through a tree, a forest of trees, the entire\nvegetable growth on the earth, the movement of the planets, to the\ngrowth and involuntary vital operations of our own bodies.\n\nNo words can bring so full a realization of the quiet power in the\nprogress of Nature as will the simple process of following the\ngrowth of a tree in imagination from the working of its sap in the\nroot up to the tips of the leaves, the blossoms, and the fruit. Or\nbeginning lower, follow the growth of a blade of grass or a flower,\nthen a tree, and so on to the movement of the earth, and then of all\nthe planets in the universe. Let your imagination picture so vividly\nall natural movements, little by little, that you seem to be really\nat one with each and all. Study the orderly working of your own\nbodily functions; and having this clearly in mind, notice where you,\nin all movements that are or might be under the control of your\nwill, are disobeying Nature's laws.\n\nNature shows us constantly that at the back of every action there\nshould be a great repose. This holds good from the minutest growth\nto the most powerful tornado. It should be so with us not only in\nthe simple daily duties, but in all things up to the most intense\nactivity possible to man. And this study and realization of Nature's\nmethod which I am pleading for brings a vivid sense of our own want\nof repose. The compensation is fortunately great, or the\ndiscouragement might be more than could be borne. We must appreciate\na need to have it supplied; we must see a mistake in order to shun\nit.\n\nHow can we expect repose of mind when we have not even repose of\nmuscle? When the most external of the machine is not at our command,\nsurely the spirit that animates the whole cannot find its highest\nplane of action. Or how can we possibly expect to know the repose\nthat should be at our command for every emergency, or hope to\nrealize the great repose behind every action, when we have not even\nlearned the repose in rest?\n\nThink of Nature's resting times, and see how painful would be the\nresult of a digression.\n\nOur side of the earth never turns suddenly toward the sun at night,\ngiving us flashes of day in the darkness. When it is night, it is\nnight steadily, quietly, until the time comes for day. A tree in\nwinter, its time for rest, never starts out with a little bud here\nand there, only to be frost bitten, and so when spring-time comes,\nto result in an uneven looking, imperfectly developed tree. It rests\nentirely in its time for rest; and when its time for blooming comes,\nits action is full and true and perfect. The grass never pushes\nitself up in little, untimely blades through the winter, thus\nleaving our lawns and fields full of bare patches in the warmer\nseason. The flowers that close at night do not half close, folding\nsome petals and letting others stay wide open. Indeed, so perfectly\ndoes Nature rest when it is her time for resting, that even the\nsuggestion of these abnormal actions seems absolutely ridiculous.\nThe less we allow ourselves to be controlled by Nature's laws, the\nmore we ignore their wonderful beauty; and yet there is that in us\nwhich must constantly respond to Nature unconsciously, else how\ncould we at once feel the absurdity of any disobedience to her laws,\neverywhere except with man? And man, who is not only free to obey,\nbut has exquisite and increasing power to realize and enjoy them in\nall their fulness, lives so far out of harmony with these laws as\never to be blind to his own steady disobedience.\n\nThink of the perfect power for rest in all animals. Lift a cat when\nshe is quiet, and see how perfectly relaxed she is in every muscle.\nThat is not only the way she sleeps, but the way she rests; and no\nmatter how great or how rapid the activity, she drops all tension at\nonce when she stops. So it is with all animals, except in rare cases\nwhere man has tampered with them in a way to interfere with the true\norder of their lives.\n\nWatch a healthy baby sleeping; lift its arm, its leg, or its head\ncarefully, and you will find each perfectly relaxed and free. You\ncan even hold it on your outspread hands, and the whole little\nweight, full of life and gaining new power through the perfect rest,\nwill give itself entirely to your hands, without one particle of\ntension. The sleep that we get in babyhood is the saving health of\nmany. But, alas! at a very early age useless tension begins, and\ngoes on increasing; and if it does not steadily lead to acute\n\"Americanitis,\" it prevents the perfect use of all our powers.\nMothers, watch your children with a care which will be all the more\neffective because they will be unconscious of it; for a child's\nattention should seldom be drawn to its own body. Lead them toward\nthe laws of Nature, that they may grow in harmony with them, and so\nbe saved the useless suffering, strain, and trouble that comes to us\nAmericans. If we do not take care, the children will more and more\ninherit this fearful misuse of the nervous force, and the\ninheritance will be so strong that at best we can have only little\ninvalids. How great the necessity seems for the effort to get back\ninto Nature's ways when we reflect upon the possibilities of a\ncontinued disobedience!\n\nTo be sure, Nature has Repose itself and does not have to work for\nit. Man is left free to take it or not as he chooses. But before he\nis able to receive it he has personal tendencies to restlessness to\novercome. And more than that, there are the inherited nervous habits\nof generations of ancestors to be recognized and shunned. But repose\nis an inmost law of our being, and the quiet of Nature is at our\ncommand much sooner than we realize, if we want it enough to work\nfor it steadily day by day. Nothing will increase our realization of\nthe need more than a little daily thought of the quiet in the\nworkings of Nature and the consequent appreciation of our own lack.\nRuskin tells the story with his own expressive power when he says,\n\"Are not the elements of ease on the face of all the greatest works\nof creation? Do they not say, not there has been a great _effort\n_here, but there has been a great power here?\"\n\nThe greatest act, the only action which we know to be power in\nitself, is the act of Creation. Behind that action there lies a\ngreat Repose. We are part of Creation, we should be moved by its\nlaws. Let us shun everything we see to be in the way of our own best\npower of action in muscle, nerve, senses, mind, and heart. Who knows\nthe new perception and strength, the increased power for use that is\nopen to us if we will but cease to be an obstruction?\n\nFreedom within the limits of Nature's laws, and indeed there is no\nfreedom without those limits, is best studied and realized in the\ngrowth of all plants,--in the openness of the branch of a vine to\nreceive the sap from the main stem, in the free circulation of the\nsap in a tree and in all vegetable organisms.\n\nImagine the branch of a vine endowed with the power to grow\naccording to the laws which govern it, or to ignore and disobey\nthose laws. Imagine the same branch having made up its vegetable\nmind that it could live its own life apart from the vine, twisting\nits various fibres into all kinds of knots and snarls, according to\nits own idea of living, so that the sap from the main stem could\nonly reach it in a minimum quantity. What a dearth of leaf, flower,\nand fruit would appear in the branch! Yet the figure is perfectly\nillustrative of the way in which most of us are interfering with the\nbest use of the life that is ours.\n\nFreedom is obedience to law. A bridge can be built to stand, only in\nobedience to the laws of mechanics. Electricity can be made a useful\npower only in exact obedience to the laws that govern it, otherwise\nit is most destructive. Has man the privilege of disobeying natural\nlaws, only in the use of his own individual powers? Clearly not. And\nwhy is it that while recognizing and endeavoring to obey the laws of\nphysics, of mechanics, and all other laws of Nature in his work in\nthe world, he so generally defies the same laws in their application\nto his own being?\n\nThe freedom of an animal's body in obeying the animal instincts is\nbeautiful to watch. The grace and power expressed in the freedom of\na tiger are wonderful. The freedom in the body of a baby to respond\nto every motion and expression is exquisite to study. But before\nmost children have been in the world three years their inherited\npersonal contractions begin, and unless the little bodies can be\nwatched and trained out of each unnecessary contraction as it\nappears, and so kept in their own freedom, there comes a time later,\nwhen to live to the greatest power for use they must spend hours in\nlearning to be babies all over again, and then gain a new freedom\nand natural movement.\n\nThe law which perhaps appeals to us most strongly when trying to\nidentify ourselves with Nature is the law of rhythm: action,\nre-action; action, re-action; action, re-action,--and the two must\nbalance, so that equilibrium is always the result. There is no\nsimilar thought that can give us keener pleasure than when we rouse\nall our imagination, and realize all our power of identifying\nourselves with the workings of a great law, and follow this rhythmic\nmovement till we find rhythm within rhythm,--from the rhythmic\nmotion of the planets to the delicate vibrations of heat and light.\nIt is helpful to think of rhythmic growth and motion, and not to\nallow the thought of a new rhythm to pass without identifying\nourselves with it as fully as our imagination will allow.\n\nWe have the rhythm of the seasons, of day and night, of the tides,\nand of vegetable and animal life,--as the various rhythmic motions\nin the flying of birds. The list will be endless, of course, for the\ngreat law rules everything in Nature, and our appreciation of it\ngrows as we identify ourselves with its various modes of action.\n\nOne hair's variation in the rhythm of the universe would bring\ndestruction, and yet we little individual microcosms are knocking\nourselves into chronic states of chaos because we feel that we can\nbe gods, and direct our own lives so much better than the God who\nmade us. We are left in freedom to go according to His laws, or\nagainst them; and we are generally so convinced that our own stupid,\nshort-sighted way is the best, that it is only because Nature\ntenderly holds to some parts of us and keeps them in the rhythm,\nthat we do not hurl ourselves to pieces. _This law of rhythm--or of\nequilibrium in motion and in rest--is the end, aim, and effect of\nall true physical training for the development and guidance of the\nbody._ Its ruling power is proved in the very construction of the\nbody,--the two sides; the circulation of the blood, veins and\narteries; the muscles, extensor and flexor; the nerves, sensory and\nmotor.\n\nWhen the long rest of a body balances the long activity, in day and\nnight; when the shorter rests balance the shorter activity, as in\nthe various opportunities offered through the day for entire rest,\nif only a minute at a time; when the sensory and motor nerves are\nclear for impression and expression; when the muscles in parts of\nthe body not needed are entirely quiet, allowing those needed for a\ncertain action to do their perfect work; when the co-ordination of\nthe muscles in use is so established that the force for a movement\nis evenly divided; when the flexor rests while its antagonizing\nmuscle works, and _vice versa,--_ when all this which is merely a\n_natural power for action and rest _is automatically established,\nthen the body is ready to obey and will obey the lightest touch of\nits owner, going in whatever direction it may be sent, artistic,\nscientific, or domestic. As this exquisite sense of ease in a\nnatural movement grows upon us, no one can describe the feeling of\nnew power or of positive comfort which comes with it; and yet it is\nno miracle, it is only natural. The beasts have the same freedom;\nbut they have not the mind to put it to higher uses, or the sense to\nenjoy its exquisite power.\n\nOften it seems that the care and trouble to get back into Nature's\nway is more than compensated for in the new appreciation of her laws\nand their uses. But the body, after all, is merely a servant; and,\nhowever perfect its training may have been, if the man, the master,\nputs his natural power to mean or low uses, sooner or later the\npower will be lost. Self-conscious pride will establish its own\ncontractions. The use of a natural power for evil ends will limit\nitself sooner or later. The love for unwholesome surroundings will\neventually put a check on a perfectly free body, although sometimes\nthe wonder is that the check is so long in coming. If we have once\ntrained ourselves into natural ways, so akin are the laws of Nature\nand spirit, both must be obeyed; and to rise to our greatest power\nmeans always to rise to our greatest power for use. \"A man's life is\nGod's love for the use for which he was made;\" a man's power lies in\nthe best direction of that use. This is a truth as practical as the\nnecessity for walking on the feet with the head up.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nTHE CHILD AS AN IDEAL\n\n\n\n\n\nWHILE the path of progress in the gaining of repose could not be\ntraced thus far without reference to the freedom of a baby, a fuller\nconsideration of what we may learn from this source must be of great\nuse to us.\n\nThe peace and freshness of a little baby are truly beautiful, but\nare rarely appreciated. Few of us have peace enough in ourselves to\nrespond to these charms. It is like playing the softest melody upon\na harp to those whose ears have long been closed.\n\nLet us halt, and watch, and listen, and see what we shall gain!\n\nThroughout the muscular system of a normal, new-born baby it is\nimpossible to find any waste of force. An apparent waste will, upon\nexamination, prove itself otherwise. Its cry will at first seem to\ncause contractions of the face; but the absolute removal of all\ntraces of contraction as the cry ceases, and a careful watching of\nthe act itself, show it to be merely an exaggeration of muscular\naction, not a permanent contraction. Each muscle is balanced by an\nopposing one; in fact, the whole thing is only a very even\nstretching of the face, and, undoubtedly, has a purpose to\naccomplish.\n\nExamine a baby's bed, and see how distinctly it bears the impression\nof an absolute giving up of weight and power. They actually _do_\nthat which we only theorize about, and from them we may learn it\nall, if we will.\n\nA babe in its bath gives us another fine opportunity for learning to\nbe simple and free. It yields to the soft pressure of the water with\na repose which is deeply expressive of gratitude; while we, in our\nclumsy departures from Nature's state, often resist with such\nintensity as not to know--in circumstances just as simply useful to\nus--that we have anything for which to be grateful.\n\nIn each new experience we find it the same, the healthy baby yields,\n_lets himself go,_ with an case which must double his chances for\ncomfort. Could we but learn to do so, our lives would lengthen, and\nour joys and usefulness strengthen in exact proportion.\n\nAll through the age of unconsciousness, this physical freedom is\nmaintained even where the mental attitude is not free. Baby wrath is\nas free and economical of physical force as are the winsome moods,\nand this until the personality has developed to some extent,--that\nis, _until the child reflects the contractions of those around him._\nIt expends itself in well-balanced muscular exercise, one set of\nmuscles resting fully in their moment of non-use, while another set\ntakes up the battle. At times it will seem that all wage war\ntogether; if so, the rest is equal to the action.\n\nIt is not the purpose of this chapter to recommend anger, even of\nthe most approved sort; but if we will express the emotion at all,\nlet us do it as well as we did in our infancy!\n\nChannels so free as this would necessitate, would lessen our\ntemptations to such expression; we, with mature intellects, would\nsee it for what it is, and the next generation of babies would less\noften exercise their wonderfully balanced little bodies in such an\nunlovely waste.\n\nNote the perfect openness of a baby throat as the child coos out his\nexpression of happiness. Could anything be more free, more like the\nsong of a bird in its obedience to natural laws? Alas, for how much\nmust we answer that these throats are so soon contracted, the tones\nchanged to so high a pitch, the voice becoming so shrill and harsh!\nCan we not open our throats and become as these little children?\n\nThe same _openness_ in the infant organism is the child's protection\nin many dangers. Falls that would result in breaks, strains, or\nsprains in us, leave the baby entirely whole save in its \"feelings,\"\nand often there, too, if the child has been kept in the true state\nmentally.\n\nWatch a baby take its food, and contrast it with our own ways of\neating. The baby draws it in slowly and evenly, with a quiet rhythm\nwhich is in exact accord with the rhythmic action of its digestive\norgans. You feel each swallow taken in the best way for repair, and\nfor this reason it seems sometimes as if one could see a baby grow\nwhile feeding. There cannot be a lovelier glimpse of innocent\nphysical repose than the little respites from the fatigue of feeding\nwhich a baby often takes. His face moist, with open pores, serene\nand satisfied, he views the hurry about him as an interesting phase\nof harmless madness. He is entirely outside of it until\nself-consciousness is quite developed.\n\nThe sleep of a little child is another opportunity for us to learn\nwhat we need. Every muscle free, every burden dropped, each breath\ncarries away the waste, and fills its place with the needed\nsubstance of increasing growth and power.\n\nIn play, we find the same freedom. When one idea is being executed,\nevery other is excluded. They do not think _dolls_ while they roll\n_hoop!_\n\nThey do not think of work while they play. Examine and see how we do\nboth. The baby of one year, sitting on the shore burying his fat\nhand in the soft warm sand, is for the time being alive _only_ to\nits warmth and softness, with a dim consciousness of the air and\ncolor about him. If we could engross ourselves as fully and with as\nsimple a pleasure, we should know far more of the possible power of\nour minds for both work and rest.\n\nIt is interesting to watch normal children in these concentrations,\nbecause from their habits we may learn so much which may improve our\nown sadly different manner of living. It is also interesting but\npathetic to see the child gradually leaving them as he approaches\nboyhood, and to trace our part in leading him away from the true\npath.\n\nThe baby's perfect placidity, caused by mental and bodily freedom,\nis disturbed at a very early age by those who should be his true\nguides. It would be impossible to say when the first wrong\nimpression is made, but it is so early that a true statement of the\ntime could only be accepted from scientific men. For mothers and\nfathers have often so dulled their own sensitiveness, that they are\npowerless to recognize the needs of their children, and their\nimpressions are, in consequence, untrustworthy.\n\nAt the time the pangs of teething begin, it is the same. The healthy\nchild left to itself would wince occasionally at the slight pricking\npain, and then turn its entire attention elsewhere, and thus become\nrefreshed for the next trial. But under the adult influence the\nagony of the first little prick is often magnified until the result\nis a cross, tired baby, already removed several degrees from the\nbeautiful state of peace and freedom in which Nature placed him\nunder our care.\n\nThe bodily freedom of little children is the foundation of a most\nbeautiful mental freedom, which cannot be wholly destroyed by us.\nThis is plainly shown by the childlike trust which they display in\nall the affairs of life, and also in their exquisite responsiveness\nto the spiritual truths which are taught to them. The very\nexpression of face of a little child as it is led by the hand is a\nlesson to us upon which pages might be written.\n\nHad we the same spirit dwelling in us, we more often should feel\nourselves led \"beside the still waters,\" and made \"to lie down in\ngreen pastures.\" We should grow faster spiritually, because we\nshould not make conflicts for ourselves, but should meet with the\nLord's quiet strength whatever we had to pass through.\n\nLet us learn of these little ones, and help them to hold fast to\nthat which they teach us. Let us remember that the natural and the\nideal are truly one, and endeavor to reach the latter by means of\nthe former.\n\nWhen through hereditary tendency our little child is not\nideal,--that is, natural,--let us with all the more earnestness\nlearn to be quiet ourselves that we may lead him to it, and thus\nopen the channels of health and strength.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nTRAINING FOR REST\n\n\n\n\n\nBUT how shall we gain a natural repose? It is absurd to emphasize\nthe need without giving the remedy. \"I should be so glad to relax,\nbut I do not know how,\" is the sincere lament of many a nervously\nstrained being.\n\nThere is a regular training which acts upon the nervous force and\nteaches its proper use, as the gymnasium develops the muscles. This,\nas will be easily seen, is at first just the reverse of vigorous\nexercise, and no woman should do powerful muscular work without\nlearning at the same time to guide her body with true economy of\nforce. It is appalling to watch the faces of women in a gymnasium,\nto see them using five, ten, twenty times the nervous force\nnecessary for every exercise. The more excited they get, the more\nnervous force they use; and the hollows under their eyes increase,\nthe strained expression comes, and then they wonder that after such\nfascinating exercise they feel so tired. A common sight in gymnasium\nwork, especially among women, is the nervous straining of the\nmuscles of the arms and hands, while exercises meant for the legs\nalone are taken. This same muscular tension is evident in the arm\nthat should be at rest while the other arm is acting; and if this\nwant of equilibrium in exercise is so strikingly noticeable in the\nlimbs themselves, how much worse it must be all through the less\nprominent muscles! To guide the body in trapeze work, every\nwell-trained acrobat knows he must have a quiet mind, a clear head,\nand obedient muscles. I recall a woman who stands high in gymnastic\nwork, whose agility on the triple bars is excellent, but the nervous\nstrain shown in the drawn lines of her face before she begins,\nleaves one who studies her carefully always in doubt as to whether\nshe will not get confused before her difficult performance is over,\nand break her neck in consequence. A realization also of the\nunnecessary nervous force she is using, detracts greatly from the\npleasure in watching her performance.\n\nIf we were more generally sensitive to misdirected nervous power,\nthis interesting gymnast, with many others, would lose no time in\nlearning a more quiet and naturally economical guidance of her\nmuscles, and gymnasium work would not be, as Dr. Checkley very\njustly calls it, \"more often a straining than a training.\"\n\nTo aim a gun and hit the mark, a quiet control of the muscles is\nnecessary. If the purpose of our actions were as well defined as the\nbull's eye of a target, what wonderful power in the use of our\nmuscles we might very soon obtain! But the precision and ease in an\naverage motion comes so far short of its possibility, that if the\nsame carelessness were taken as a matter of course in shooting\npractice, the side of a barn should be an average target.\n\nGymnasium work for women would be grand in its wholesome influence,\nif only they might learn the proper _use_ of the body while they are\nworking for its development. And no gymnasium will be complete and\nsatisfactory in its results until the leader arranges separate\nclasses for training in economy of force and rhythmic motion. In\norder to establish a true physical balance the training of the\nnerves should receive as much attention as the training of the\nmuscles. The more we misuse our nervous force, the worse the\nexpenditure will be as muscular power increases; I cannot waste so\nmuch force on a poorly developed muscle as on one that is well\ndeveloped. This does not by any means argue against the development\nof muscle; it argues for its proper use. Where is the good of an\nexquisitely formed machine, if it is to be shattered for want of\ncontrol of the motive power?\n\nIt would of course be equally harmful to train the guiding power\nwhile neglecting entirely flabby, undeveloped muscles. The only\ndifference is that in the motions for this training and for the\nperfect co-ordinate use of the muscles, there must be a certain\namount of even, muscular development; whereas although the vigorous\nexercise for the growth of the muscles often helps toward a healthy\nnervous system, it more often, where the nervous force is misused,\nexaggerates greatly the tension.\n\nIn every case it is equilibrium we are working for, and a one-sided\nview of physical training is to be deplored and avoided, whether the\nbalance is lost on the side of the nerves or the muscles.\n\nTake a little child early enough, and watch it carefully through a\ncourse of natural rhythmic exercises, and there will be no need for\nthe careful training necessary to older people. But help for us who\nhave gone too far in this tension comes only through patient study.\n\nSo far as I can, I will give directions for gaining the true\nrelaxation. But because written directions are apt to be\nmisunderstood, and so bring discouragement and failure, I will\npurposely omit all but the most simple means of help; but these I am\nsure will bring very pleasant effects if followed exactly and with\nthe utmost patience.\n\nThe first care should be to realize how far you are from the ability\nto let go of your muscles when they are not needed; how far you are\nfrom the natural state of a cat when she is quiet, or better still\nfrom the perfect freedom of a sleeping baby; consequently how\nimpossible it is for you ever to rest thoroughly. Almost all of us\nare constantly exerting ourselves to hold our own heads on. This is\neasily proved by our inability to let go of them. The muscles are so\nwell balanced that Nature holds our heads on much more perfectly\nthan we by any possibility can. So it is with all our muscles; and\nto teach them better habits we must lie flat on our backs, and try\nto give our whole weight to the floor or the bed. The floor is\nbetter, for that does not yield in the least to us, and the bed\ndoes. Once on the floor, give way to it as far as possible. Every\nday you will become more sensitive to tension, and every day you\nwill be better able to drop it. While you are flat on your backs, if\nyou can find some one to \"prove\" your relaxation, so much the\nbetter. Let your friend lift an arm, bending it at the different\njoints, and then carefully lay it down. See if you can give its\nweight entirely to the other person, so that it seems to be no part\nof you, but as separate as if it were three bags of sand, fastened\nloosely at the wrist, the elbow, and the shoulder; it will then be\nfull of life without tension. You will find probably, either that\nyou try to assist in raising the arm in your anxiety to make it\nheavy, or you will resist so that it is not heavy with its own\nweight but with I your personal effort. In some cases the nervous\nforce is so active that the arm reminds one of a lively eel.\n\nThen have your legs treated in the same way. It is good even to have\nsome one throw your arm or your leg up and catch it; also to let it\ngo unexpectedly. Unnecessary tension is proved when the limb,\ninstead of dropping by the pure force of gravity, sticks fast\nwherever it was left. The remark when the extended limb is brought\nto the attention of its owner is, \"Well, what did you want me to do?\nYou did not say you wanted me to drop it,\"--which shows the habitual\nattitude of tension so vividly as to be almost ridiculous; the very\nidea being, of course, that you are not wanted to do anything but\n_let go,_ when the arm would drop of its own accord. If the person\nholding your arm says, \"Now I will let go, and it must drop as if a\ndead weight,\" almost invariably it will not be the force of gravity\nthat takes it, but your own effort to make it a dead weight; and it\nwill come down with a thump which shows evident muscular effort, or\nso slowly and actively as to prove that you cannot let it alone.\nConstant and repeated trial, with right thought from the pupil, will\nbe certain to bring good results, so that at least he or she can be\nsure of better power for rest in the limbs. Unfortunately this first\ngain will not last. Unless the work goes on, the legs and arms will\nsoon be \"all tightened up\" again, and it will seem harder to let go\nthan ever.\n\nThe next care must be with the head. That cannot be treated as\nroughly as the limbs. It can be tossed, if the tosser will surely\ncatch it on his open hand. Never let it drop with its full weight on\nthe floor, for the jar of the fall, if you are perfectly relaxed, is\nunpleasant; if you are tense, it is dangerous. At first move it\nslowly up and down. As with the arms, there will be either\nresistance or attempted assistance. It seems at times as though it\nwere and always would be impossible to let go of your own head. Of\ncourse, if you cannot give up and let go for a friend to move it\nquietly up and down, you cannot let go and give way entirely to the\nrestful power of sleep. The head must be moved up and down, from\nside to side, and round and round in opposite ways, gently and until\nits owner can let go so completely that it seems like a big ball in\nthe hands that move it. Of course care must be taken to move it\ngently and never to extremes, and it will not do to trust an\nunintelligent person to \"prove\" a body in any way. Ladies' maids\nhave been taught to do it very well, but they had in all cases to be\ncarefully watched at first.\n\nThe example of a woman who had for years been an invalid is\nexceedingly interesting as showing how persistently people \"hold\non.\" Although the greater part of her time had been spent in a\nreclining attitude, she had not learned the very rudiments of\nrelaxation, and could not let go of her own muscles any more easily\nthan others who have always been in active life. Think of holding\nyourself on to the bed for ten years! Her maid learned to move her\nin the way that has been described, and after repeated practice, by\nthe time she had reached the last movement the patient would often\nbe sleeping like a baby. It did not cure her, of course; that was\nnot expected. But it taught her to \"relax\" to a pain instead of\nbracing up and fighting it, and to live in a natural way so far as\nan organic disease and sixty years of misused and over-used force\nwould allow.\n\nHaving relaxed the legs and arms and head, next the spine and all\nthe muscles of the chest must be helped to relax. This is more\ndifficult, and requires not only care but greater muscular strength\nin the lifter. If the one who is lifting will only remember to press\nhard on the floor with the feet, and put all the effort of lifting\nin the legs, the strain will be greatly lessened.\n\nTake hold of the hands and lift the patient or pupil to a sitting\nattitude. Here, of course, if the muscles that hold the head are\nperfectly relaxed, the head will drop back from its own weight.\nThen, in letting the body back again, of course, keep hold of the\nhands,--_never_ let go; and after it is down, if the neck has\nremained relaxed, the head will be back in a most uncomfortable\nattitude, and must be lifted and placed in the right position. It is\nsome time before relaxation is so complete as that. At first the\nhead and spine will come up like a ramrod, perfectly rigid and\nstiff. There will be the same effort either to assist or resist; the\nsame disinclination to give up; often the same remark, \"If you will\ntell me what you want me to do, I will do it;\" the same inability to\nrealize that the remark, and the feeling that prompts it, are\nentirely opposed to the principle that you are _wanted to do\nnothing, and to do nothing with an effort is impossible._ In\nlowering the body it must \"give\" like a bag of bones fastened\nloosely together and well padded. Sometimes when it is nearly down,\none arm can be dropped, and the body let down the rest of the way by\nthe other. Then it is simply giving way completely to the laws of\ngravity, it will fall over on the side that is not held, and only\nroll on its back as the other arm is dropped. Care must always be\ntaken to arrange the head comfortably after the body is resting on\nthe ground. Sometimes great help is given toward relaxing the\nmuscles of the chest and spine by pushing the body up as if to roll\nit over, first one side and then the other, and letting it roll back\nfrom its own weight. It is always good, after helping the separate\nparts to a restful state, to take the body as a whole and roll it\nover and over, carefully, and see if the owner can let you do so\nwithout the slightest effort to assist you. It will be easily seen\nthat the power, once gained, of remaining perfectly passive while\nanother moves you, means a steadily increasing ability to relax at\nall times when the body should be given to perfect rest. This power\nto \"let go\" causes an increasing sensitiveness to all tension,\nwhich, unpleasant as it always is to find mistakes of any kind in\nourselves, brings a very happy result in the end; for we can never\nshun evils, physical or spiritual, until we have recognized them\nfully, and every mistaken way of using our machine, when studiously\navoided, brings us nearer to that beautiful unconscious use of it\nwhich makes it possible for us to forget it entirely in giving it\nthe more truly to its highest use.\n\nAfter having been helped in some degree by another, and often\nwithout that preliminary help, come the motions by which we are\nenabled to free ourselves; and it is interesting to see how much\nmore easily the body will move after following this course of\nexercises. Take the same attitude on the floor, giving up entirely\nin every part to the force of gravity, and keep your eyes closed\nthrough the whole process. Then stop and imagine yourself heavy.\nFirst think one leg heavy, then the other, then each arm, and both\narms, being sure to keep the same weight in the legs; then your body\nand head. Use your imagination to the full extent of its power, and\nthink the whole machine heavy; wonder how the floor can hold such a\nweight. Begin then to take a deep breath. Inhale through the nose\nquietly and easily. Let it seem as if the lungs expanded themselves\nwith, out voluntary effort on your part. Fill first the lower lungs\nand then the upper. Let go, and exhale the air with a sense of\nrelief. As the air leaves your lungs, try to let your body rest back\non the floor more heavily, as a rubber bag would if the air were\nallowed to escape from it. Repeat this breathing exercise several\ntimes; then inhale and exhale rhythmically, with breaths long enough\nto give about six to a minute, for ten times, increasing the number\nevery day until you reach fifty. This eventually will establish the\nhabit of longer breaths in the regular unconscious movement of our\nlungs, which is most helpful to a wholesome physical state. The\ndirections for deep breathing should be carefully followed in the\ndeep breaths taken after each motion. After the deep breathing, drag\nyour leg up slowly, very slowly, trying to have no effort except in\nthe hip joint, allowing the knee to bend, and dragging the heel\nheavily along the floor, until it is up so far that the sole of the\nfoot touches without effort on your part. Stop occasionally in the\nmotion and let the weight come into the heel, then drag the foot\nwith less effort than before,--so will the strain of movement be\nsteadily decreased. Let the leg slip slowly down, and when it is\nnearly flat on the floor again, let go, so that it gives entirely\nand drops from its own weight. If it is perfectly free, there is a\npleasant little spring from the impetus of dropping, which is more\nor less according to the healthful state of the body. The same\nmotion must be repeated with the other leg. Every movement should be\nslower each day. It is well to repeat the movements of the legs for\nthree times, trying each time to move more slowly, with the leg\nheavier than the time before. After this, lift the arm slowly from\nthe shoulder, letting the hand hang over until it is perpendicular\nto the floor. Be careful to think the arm heavy, and the motive\npower in the shoulder. It helps to relax if you imagine your arm\nheld to the shoulder by a single hair, and that if you move it with\na force beyond the minimum needed to raise it, it will drop off\nentirely. To those who have little or no imagination this will seem\nridiculous; to others who have more, and can direct it usefully,\nthis and similar ways will be very helpful. After the arm is raised\nto a perpendicular position, let the force of gravity have\nit,--first the upper arm to the elbow, and then the forearm and\nhand, so that it falls by pieces. Follow the same motion with the\nother arm, and repeat this three times, trying to improve with each\nrepetition.\n\nNext, the head must be moved slowly,--so slowly that it seems as\nthough it hardly moved at all,--first rolled to the left, then back\nand to the right and back again; and this also can be repeated three\ntimes. After each of the above motions there should be two or three\nlong, quiet breaths. To free the spine, sit up on the floor, and\nwith heavy arms and legs, head dropped forward, let it go back\nslowly and easily, as if the vertebrae were beads on a string, and\nfirst one bead lay flat, then another and another, until the whole\nstring rests on the floor, and the head falls back with its own\nweight. This should be practised over and over before the movement\ncan be perfectly free; and it is well to begin on the bed, until you\ncatch the idea and its true application. After, and sometimes\nbefore, the process of slow motions, rolling over loosely on one\nside should be practised,--remaining there until the weight all\nseems near the floor, and then giving way so that the force of\ngravity seems to \"flop\" it back (I use \"flop\" advisedly); so again\nresting on the other side. But one must go over by regular motions,\nraising the leg first heavily and letting it fall with its full\nweight over the other leg, so that the ankles are crossed. The arm\non the same side must be raised as high as possible and dropped over\nthe chest. Then the body can be rolled over, and carried as it were\nby the weight of the arm and leg. It must go over heavily and freely\nlike a bag of loose bones, and it helps greatly to freedom to roll\nover and over in this way.\n\nLong breaths, taken deeply and quietly, should be interspersed all\nthrough these exercises for extreme relaxation. They prevent the\npossibility of relaxing too far. And as there is a pressure on every\nmuscle of the body during a deep inspiration, the muscles, being now\nrelaxed into freedom, are held in place, so to speak, by the\npressure from the breath,--as we blow in the fingers of a glove to\nput them in shape.\n\nRemember always that it is equilibrium we are working for, and this\nextreme relaxation will bring it, because we have erred so far in\nthe opposite direction. For instance, there is now no balance at all\nbetween our action and our rest, because we are more or less tense\nand consequently active all through the times when we should be\nentirely at rest; and we never can be moved by Nature's rhythm until\nwe learn absolute relaxation for rest, and so gain the true\nequilibrium in that way. Then again, since we use so much\nunnecessary tension in everything we do, although we cannot remove\nit entirely until we learn the normal motion of our muscles, still\nafter an hour's practice and the consequent gain in extreme\nrelaxation, it will be impossible to attack our work with the same\namount of unnecessary force, at least for a time; and every day the\ntime in which we are able to work, or talk, or move with less\ntension will increase, and so our bad habits be gradually changed,\nif not to good, to better ones. So the true equilibrium comes\ngradually more and more into every action of our lives, and we feel\nmore and more the wholesome harmony of a rhythmic life. We gradually\nswing into rhythm with Nature through a child-like obedience to her\nlaws.\n\nOf one thing I must warn all nervous people who mean to try the\nrelief to be gained from relaxation. The first effects will often be\nexceedingly unpleasant. The same results are apt to follow that come\nfrom the reaction after extreme excitement,--all the way from\nnervous nausea and giddiness to absolute fainting. This, as must be\nclearly seen, is a natural result from the relaxation that comes\nafter years of habitual tension. The nerves have been held in a\nchronic state of excitement over something or nothing; and, of\ncourse, when their owner for the first time lets go, they begin to\nfeel their real state, and the result of habitual strain must be\nunpleasant. The greater the nervous strain at the beginning, the\nmore slowly the pupil should advance, practising in some cases only\nfive minutes a day.\n\nAnd with regard to those people who \"live on their nerves,\" not a\nfew, indeed very many, are so far out of the normal way of living\nthat they detest relaxation. A hearty hatred of the relaxing motions\nis often met, and even when the mind is convinced of the truth of\nthe theory, it is only with difficulty that such people can persuade\nthemselves or be persuaded by others to work steadily at the\npractice until the desired result is gained.\n\n\"It makes me ten times more nervous than I was before.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, it does not; it only makes you realize your nervousness ten\ntimes more.\"\n\n\"Well, then, I do not care to realize my nervousness, it is very\ndisagreeable.\"\n\n\"But, unfortunately, if you do not realize it now and relax into\nNature's ways, she will knock you hard against one of her stone\nwalls, and you will rebound with a more unpleasant realization of\nnervousness than is possible now.\"\n\nThe locomotive engine only utilizes nineteen per cent of the amount\nof fuel it burns, and inventors are hard at work in all directions\nto make an engine that will burn only the fuel needed to run it.\nHere is a much more valuable machine--the human engine--burning\nperhaps eighty-one per cent more than is needed to accomplish its\nends, not through the mistake of its Divine Maker, but through the\nstupid, short-sighted thoughtlessness of the engineer.\n\nIs not the economy of our vital forces of much greater importance\nthan mechanical or business economy?\n\nIt is painful to see a man--thin and pale from the excessive nervous\nforce he has used, and from a whole series of attacks of nervous\nprostration--speak with contempt of \"this method of relaxation.\" It\nis not a method in any sense except that in which all the laws of\nNature are methods. No one invented it, no one planned it; every one\ncan see, who will look, that it is Nature's way and the only true\nway of living. To call it a new idea or method is as absurd as it\nwould be, had we carried our tension so far as to forget sleep\nentirely, for some one to come with a \"new method\" of sleep to bring\nus into a normal state again; and then the people suffering most\nintensely from want of \"tired Nature's sweet restorer\" would be the\nmost scornful in their irritation at this new idea of \"sleep.\"\n\nAgain, there are many, especially women, who insist that they prefer\nthe nervously excited state, and would not lose it. This is like a\nman's preferring to be chronically drunk. But all these abnormal\nstates are to be expected in abnormal people, and must be quietly\nmet by Nature's principles in order to lead the sufferers back to\nNature's ways. Our minds are far enough beyond our bodies to lead us\nto help ourselves out of mistaken opinions; although often the\nsincere help of others takes us more rapidly over hard ground and\nprevents many a stumble.\n\nGreat nervous excitement is possible, every one knows, without\nmuscular tension; therefore in all these motions for gaining freedom\nand a better physical equilibrium in nerve and muscle, the warning\ncannot be given too often to take every exercise easily. Do not work\nat it, go so far even as not to care especially whether you do it\nright or not, but simply do what is to be done without straining\nmind or body by effort. It is quite possible to make so desperate an\neffort to relax, that more harm than good is done. Particularly\nharmful is the intensity with which an effort to gain physical\nfreedom is made by so many highly strung natures. The additional\nmental excitement is quite out of proportion to the gain that may\ncome from muscular freedom. For this reason it is never advisable\nfor one who feels the need of gaining a more natural control of\nnervous power to undertake the training without a teacher. If a\nteacher is out of the question, ten minutes practice a day is all\nthat should be tried for several weeks.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nTRAINING FOR MOTION\n\n\n\n\n\n\"IN every new movement, in every unknown attitude needed in\ndifficult exercises, the nerve centres have to exercise a kind of\nselection of the muscles, bringing into action those which favor the\nmovement, and suppressing those which oppose it.\" This very evident\ntruth Dr. Lagrange gives us in his valuable book on the Physiology\nof Exercise. At first, every new movement is unknown; and, owing to\ninherited and personal contractions, almost from the earliest\nmovement in a child's learning to walk to the most complicated\naction of our daily lives, the nerve centres exercise a mistaken\nselection of muscles,--not only selecting more muscles than are\nneeded for perfect co-ordination of movement, but throwing more\nforce than necessary into the muscles selected. To a gradually\nincreasing extent, the contracting force, instead of being withdrawn\nwhen the muscle is inactive, remains; and, as we have already seen,\nan arm or leg that should be passive is lifted, and the muscles are\nfound to be contracted as if for severe action. To the surprise of\nthe owner the contraction cannot be at once removed. Help for this\nhabitual contraction is given in the preceding chapter. Further on\nDr. Lagrange tells us that \"Besides the apprenticeship of movements\nwhich are unknown, there is the improvement of already known\nmovements.\" When the work of mistaken selection of muscles has gone\non for years, the \"improvement of already known movements,\" from the\nsimplest domestic action to the accomplishment of very great\npurposes, is a study in itself. One must learn first to be a grown\nbaby, and, as we have already seen, gain the exquisite passiveness\nof a baby; then one must learn to walk and to move by a natural\nprocess of selection, which, thanks to the contractions of his\nvarious ancestors, was not the process used for his original\nmovements. This learning to live all over again is neither so\nfrightful nor so difficult as it sounds. Having gained the passive\nstate described in the last chapter, one is vastly more sensitive to\nunnecessary tension; and it seems often as though the child in us\nasserted itself, rising with alacrity to claim its right of natural\nmovement, and with a new sense of freedom in the power gained to\nshun inherited and personal contractions. Certainly it is a fact\nthat freedom of movement is gained through shunning the\ncontractions. And this should always be kept in mind to avoid the\nself-consciousness and harm which come from a studied movement, not\nto mention the very disagreeable impression such movements give to\nall who appreciate their artificiality.\n\nMotion in the human body, as well as music, is an art. An artist has\nvery aptly said that we should so move that if every muscle struck a\nnote, only harmony would result. Were it so the harmony would be\nmost exquisite, for the instrument is Nature's own. We see how far\nwe are from a realization of natural movement when we watch\ncarefully and note the muscular discords evident to our eyes at all\ntimes. Even the average ballet dancing, which is supposed to be the\nperfection of artistic movement, is merely a series of pirouettes\nand gymnastic contortions, with the theatrical smile of a pretty\nwoman to throw the glare of a calcium light over the imperfections\nand dazzle us. The average ballet girl is not adequately trained,\nfrom the natural and artistic standpoint. If this is the case in\nwhat should be the quintessence of natural, and so of artistic\nmovement, it is to a great degree owing to the absolute carelessness\nin the selection of the muscles to be used in every movement of\ndaily life.\n\nMany exercises which lead to the freedom of the body are well known\nin the letter--not in the spirit--through the so-called \"Delsarte\nsystem.\" if they had been followed with a broad appreciation of what\nthey were meant for and what they could lead to, before now students\nwould have realized to a far greater extent what power is possible\nto the human body. But so much that is good and helpful in the\n\"Delsarte system\" has been misused, and so much of what is\nthoroughly artificial and unhealthy has been mixed with the useful,\nthat one hesitates now to mention Delsarte. Either he was a\nwonderful genius whose thoughts and discoveries have been sadly\nperverted, or the inconsistencies of his teachings were great enough\nto limit the true power which certainly can be found in much that he\nhas left us.\n\nBesides the exercises already described there are many others,\nsuited to individual needs, for gaining the freedom of each part of\nthe body and of the body as a whole.\n\nIt is not possible to describe them clearly enough to allow them to\nbe followed without a teacher, and to secure the desired result.\nIndeed, there would be danger of unpleasant results from\nmisunderstanding. The object is so to stand that our muscles hold\nus, with the natural balance given them, instead of trying, as most\nof us do, to hold our muscles. In moving to gain this natural\nequilibrium we allow our muscles to carry us forward, and when they\nhave contracted as far as is possible for one set, the antagonizing\nmuscles carry us back. So it is with the side-to-side poising from\nthe ankles, and the circular motion, which is a natural swinging of\nthe muscles to find their centre of equilibrium, having once been\nstarted out of it. To stand for a moment and _think_ the feet heavy\nis a great help in gaining the natural poising motions, but care\nshould always be taken to hold the chest well up. Indeed, we need\nhave no sense of effort in standing, except in raising the\nchest,--and that must be as if it were pulled up outside by a button\nin its centre, but there must be no strain in the effort.\n\nThe result of the exercises taken to free the head is shown in the\npower to toss the head lightly and easily, with the waist muscles,\nfrom a dropped forward to an erect position. The head shows its\nfreedom then by the gentle swing of the neck muscles, which is\nentirely involuntary and comes from the impetus given them in\ntossing the head.\n\nTension in the muscles of the neck is often very difficult to\novercome; because, among other reasons, the sensations coming from\ncertain forms of nervous over-strain are very commonly referred to\nthe region of the base of the brain. It is not unusual to find the\nback of the neck rigid in extreme tension, and whether the strain is\nvery severe or not, great care must be taken to free it by slow\ndegrees, and the motions should at first be practised only a few\nminutes at a time. I can hardly warn readers too often against the\npossibility of an unpleasant reaction, if the relaxing is practised\ntoo long, or gained too rapidly.\n\nThen should come exercises for freeing the arms; and these can be\ntaken sitting. Let the arms hang heavily at the sides; raise one arm\nslowly, feeling the weight more and more distinctly, and only\ncontracting the shoulder muscles. It is well to raise it a few\ninches, then drop it heavily and try again,--each time taking force\nout of the lower muscles by thinking the arm heavy, and the motive\npower in the shoulder. If the arm itself can rest heavily on some\none's hand while you are still raising it from the shoulder, that\nproves that you have succeeded in withdrawing the useless tension.\nMost arms feel stiff all the way along, when the owners raise them.\nYour arm must be raised until high overhead, the hand hanging from\nthe wrist and dropped into your lap or down at the side, letting the\nelbow \"give,\" so that the upper arm drops first, and then the fore\narm and hand,--like three heavy sand-bags sewed together. The arm\ncan be brought up to the level of the shoulder, and then round in\nfront and dropped. To prove its freedom, toss it with the shoulder\nmuscles from the side into the lap. Watch carefully that the arm\nitself has no more tension than if it were a sand-bag hung at the\nside, and could only be moved by the shoulder. After practising this\ntwo or three times so that the arms are relaxed enough to make you\nmore sensitive to tension, one hundred times a day you will find\nyour arms held rigidly, while you are listening or talking or\nwalking. Every day you will grow more sensitive to the useless\ntension, and every day gain new power to drop it. This is wherein\nthe real practice comes. An hour or two hours a day of relaxing\nexercises will amount to nothing if at the same time we are not\ncareful to use the freedom gained, and to do everything more\nnaturally. It is often said, \"But I cannot waste time watching all\nday to see if I am using too much force.\" There is no need to watch;\nhaving once started in the right direction, if you drop useless\nmuscular contraction every time you notice it, that is enough. It\nwill be as natural to do that as for a musician to correct a discord\nwhich he has inadvertently made on the piano.\n\nThere are no motions so quieting, so helpful in the general freeing\nof the body, as the motions of the spine. There are no motions more\ndifficult to describe, or which should be more carefully directed.\nThe habitual rigidity of the spine, as compared with its possible\nfreedom, is more noticeable in training, of course, than is that of\nany other part of the body. Each vertebra should be so distinctly\nindependent of every other, as to make the spine as smoothly jointed\nas the toy snakes, which, when we hold the tip of the tail in our\nfingers, curve in all directions. Most of us have spinal columns\nthat more or less resemble ramrods. It is a surprise and delight to\nfind what can be accomplished, when the muscles of the spine and\nback are free and under control. Of course the natural state of the\nspine, as the seat of a great nervous centre, affects many muscles\nof the body, and, on the other hand, the freedom of these muscles\nreacts favorably upon the spine.\n\nThe legs are freed for standing and walking by shaking the foot free\nfrom the ankle with the leg, swinging the fore leg from the upper\nleg, and so freeing the muscles at the knee, and by standing on a\nfootstool and letting one leg hang off the stool a dead weight while\nswinging it round from the hip. Greater freedom and ease of movement\ncan be gained by standing on the floor and swinging the leg from the\nhip as high as possible. Be sure that the only effort for motion is\nin the muscles of the hip. There are innumerable other motions to\nfree the legs, and often a great variety must be practised before\nthe freedom can be gained.\n\nThe muscles of the chest and waist are freed through a series of\nmotions, the result of which is shown in the ability to toss the\nbody lightly from the hips, as the head is tossed from the waist\nmuscles; and there follows the same gentle involuntary swing of the\nmuscles of the waist which surprises one so pleasantly in the neck\nmuscles after tossing the head, and gives a new realization of what\nphysical freedom is.\n\nIn tossing the body the motion must be successive, like running the\nscale with the vertebrae.\n\nIn no motion should the muscles work _en masse._ The more perfect\nthe co-ordination of muscles in any movement, the more truly each\nmuscle holds its own individuality. This power of freedom in motion\nshould be worked for after once approaching the natural equilibrium.\nIf you rest on your left leg, it pushes your left hip a little\nfarther out, which causes your body to swerve slightly to the\nright,--and, to keep the balance true, the head again tips to the\nleft a little. Now rise slowly and freely from that to standing on\nboth feet, with body and head erect; then drop on the right foot\nwith the body to left, and head to right. Here again, as in the\nmotions with the spine, there is a great difference in the way they\nare practised. Their main object is to help the muscles to an\nindependent individual co-ordination, and there should be a new\nsense of ease and freedom every time we practise it. Hold the chest\nup, and push yourself erect with the ball of your free foot. The\nmore the weight is thought into the feet the freer the muscles are\nfor action, provided the chest is well raised. The forward and back\nspinal motion should be taken standing also; and there is a gentle\ncircular motion of the entire body which proves the freedom of all\nthe muscles for natural movement, and is most restful in its result.\n\nThe study for free movement in the arms and legs should of course be\nseparate. The law that every part moves from something prior to it,\nis illustrated exquisitely in the motion of the fingers from the\nwrist. Here also the individuality of the muscles in their perfect\nco-ordination is pleasantly illustrated. To gain ease of movement in\nthe fore arm, its motive power must seem to be in the upper arm; the\nmotive power for the entire arm must seem to be centred in the\nshoulder. When through various exercises a natural co-ordination of\nthe muscles is gained, the arm can be moved in curves from the\nshoulder, which remind one of a graceful snake; and the balance is\nso true that the motion seems hardly more than a thought in the\namount of effort it takes. Great care should be given to freeing the\nhands and fingers. Because the hand is in such constant\ncommunication with the brain, the tension of the entire body often\nseems to be reflected there. Sometimes it is even necessary to train\nthe hand to some extent in the earliest lessons.\n\nExercises for movement in the legs are to free the joints, so that\nmotions may follow one another as in the arm,--the foot from the\nankle; the lower leg from the upper leg; the upper leg from the hip;\nand, as--in the arm, the free action of the joints in the leg comes\nas we seem to centre the motive power in the hip. There is then the\nsame grace and ease of movement which we gain in the arm, simply\nbecause the muscles have their natural equilibrium.\n\nThus the motive power of the body will seem to be gradually drawn to\nan imaginary centre in the lower part of the trunk,--which simply\nmeans withdrawing superfluous tension from every part. The exercise\nto help establish this equilibrium is graceful, and not difficult if\nwe take it quietly and easily, using the mind to hold a balance\nwithout effort. Raise the right arm diagonally forward, the left leg\ndiagonally back,--the arm must be high up, the foot just off the\nfloor, so that as far as possible you make a direct line from the\nwrist to the ankle; in this attitude stretch all muscles across the\nbody from left to right slowly and steadily, then relax quite as\nslowly. Now, be sure your arm and leg are free from all tension, and\nswing them very slowly, as if they were one piece, to as nearly a\nhorizontal position as they can reach; then slowly pivot round until\nyou bring your arm diagonally back and your leg diagonally forward;\nstill horizontal, pivot again to the starting point; then bring leg\ndown and arm up, always keeping them as in a line, until your foot\nis again off the floor; then slowly lower your arm and let your foot\nrest on the floor so that gradually your whole weight rests on that\nleg, and the other is free to swing up and pivot with the opposite\narm. All this must be done slowly and without strain of any kind.\nThe motions which follow in sets are for the better daily working of\nthe body, as well as to establish its freedom. The first set is\ncalled the \"Big Rhythms,\" because it takes mainly the rhythmic\nmovement of the larger muscles of the body, and is meant, through\nmovements taken on one foot, to give a true balance in the poise of\nthe body as well as to make habitual the natural co-ordination in\nthe action of all the larger muscles. It is like practising a series\nof big musical chords to accustom our ears to their harmonies. The\nsecond set, named the \"Little Rhythms,\"--because that is a\nconvenient way of designating it,--is a series meant to include the\nmovement of all the smaller muscles as well as the large ones, and\nis carried out even to the fingers. The third set is for spring and\nrapid motion, especially in joints of arms and legs.\n\nOf course having once found the body's natural freedom, the variety\nof motions is as great as the variety of musical sounds and\ncombinations possible to an instrument which will respond to every\ntone in the musical scale. It is in opening the way for this natural\nmotion that the exquisite possibilities in motion purely artistic\ndawn upon us with ever-increasing light. And as in music it is the\nsonata, the waltz, or the nocturne we must feel, not the mechanical\nprocess of our own performance,--so in moving, it is the beautiful,\nnatural harmonies of the muscles, from the big rhythms to all the\nsmaller ones, that we must feel and make others feel, and not the\nmere mechanical grace of our bodies; and we can move a sonata from\nthe first to the last, changing the time and holding the theme so\nthat the soul will be touched through the eye, as it is through the\near now in music. But, according to the present state of the human\nbody, more than one generation will pass before we reach, or know\nthe beginning of, the highest artistic power of motion. If art is\nNature illuminated, one must have some slight appreciation and\nexperience of Nature before attempting her illumination.\n\nThe set of motions mentioned can be only very inadequately described\nin print. But although they are graceful, because they are natural,\nthe first idea in practising them is that they are a means to an\nend, not an end in themselves. For in the big and little rhythms and\nthe springing motions, in practising them over and over again we are\nestablishing the habit of natural motion, and will carry it more and\nmore into everything we do.\n\nIf the work of the brain in muscular exercise were reduced to its\nminimum, the consequent benefit from all exercise would greatly\nincrease.\n\nA new movement can be learned with facility in proportion to the\npower for dropping at the time all impressions of previous\nmovements. In training to take every motion easily, after a time the\nbrain-work is relieved, for we move with ease,--that is, with a\nnatural co-ordination of muscles, automatically,--in every known\nmotion; and we lessen very greatly the mental strain, in learning a\nnew movement, by gaining the power to relax entirely at first, and\nthen, out of a free body, choose the muscles needed, and so avoid\nthe nervous strain of useless muscular experiment.\n\nSo far as the mere muscular movement goes, the sensation is that of\nbeing well oiled. As for instance, in a natural walk, where the\nswinging muscles and the standing muscles act and rest in alternate\nrhythmic action, the chest is held high, the side muscles free to\nmove in, harmony with the legs, and all the spring in the body\nbrought into play through inclining slightly forward and pushing\nwith the ball of the back foot, the arms swinging naturally without\ntension. Walking with a free body is often one of the best forms of\nrest, and in the varying forms of motion arranged for practice we\nare enabled to realize, that \"perfect harmony of action in the\nentire man invigorates every part.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nMIND TRAINING\n\n\n\n\n\nIT will be plainly seen that this training of the body is at the\nsame time a training of the mind, and indeed it is in essence a\ntraining of the will. For as we think of it carefully and analyze it\nto its fundamental principles, we realize that it might almost be\nsummed up as in itself a training of the will alone. That is\ncertainly what it leads to, and where it leads from.\n\nMaudsley tells us that \"he who is incapable of guiding his muscles,\nis incapable of concentrating his mind;\" and it would seem to\nfollow, by a natural sequence, that training for the best use of all\nthe powers given us should begin with the muscles, and continue\nthrough the nerves and the senses to the mind,--all by means of the\nwill, which should gradually remove all personal contractions and\nobstructions to the wholesome working of the law of cause and\neffect.\n\nHelp a child to use his own ability of gaining free muscles, nerves\nclear to take impressions through every sense, a mind open to\nrecognize them, and a will alive with interest in and love for\nfinding the best in each new sensation or truth, and what can he not\nreach in power of use to others and in his own growth.\n\nThe consistency of creation is perfect. The law that applies to the\nguidance of the muscles works just as truly in training the senses\nand the mind.\n\nA new movement can be learned with facility in proportion to the\npower of dropping at the time all impressions of previous movements.\nQuickness and keenness of sense are gained only in proportion to the\npower of quieting the senses not in use, and erasing previous\nimpressions upon the sense which is active at the time.\n\nTrue concentration of mind means the ability to drop every subject\nbut that centred upon. Tell one man to concentrate his mind on a\ndifficult problem until he has worked it out,--he will clinch his\nfists, tighten his throat, hold his teeth hard together, and\ncontract nobody knows how many more muscles in his body, burning and\nwasting fuel in a hundred or more places where it should be saved.\nThis is _not_ concentration. Concentration means the focussing of a\nforce; and when the mathematical faculty of the brain alone should\nbe at work, the force is not focussed if it is at the same time\nflying over all other parts of the body in useless strain of\ninnumerable muscles. Tell another man, one who works naturally, to\nsolve the same problem,--he will instinctively and at once \"erase\nall previous impressions\" in muscle and nerve, and with a quiet,\nearnest expression, not a face knotted with useless strain, will\nconcentrate upon his work. The result, so far as the problem itself\nis concerned, may be the same in both cases; but the result upon the\nphysique of the men who have undertaken the work will be vastly\ndifferent.\n\nIt will be insisted upon by many, and, strange as it may seem, by\nmany who have a large share of good sense, that they can work better\nwith this extra tension. \"For,\" the explanation is, \"it is natural\nto me.\" That may be, but it is not natural to Nature; and however\ndifficult it may be at first to drop our own way and adopt Nature's,\nthe proportionate gain is very great in the end.\n\nNormal exercise often stimulates the brain, and by promoting more\nvigorous circulation, and so greater physical activity all over the\nbody, helps the brain to work more easily. Therefore some men can\nthink better while walking.\n\nThis is quite unlike the superfluous strain of nervous motion,\nwhich, however it may seem to help at the time, eventually and\nsteadily lessens mental power instead of increasing it. The\ndistinction between motion which wholesomely increases the brain\nactivity and that which is simply unnecessary tension, is not\ndifficult to discern when our eyes are well opened to superfluous\neffort. This misdirected force seems to be the secret of much of the\noverwork in schools, and the consequent physical break-down of\nschool children, especially girls. It is not that they have too much\nto do, it is that they do not know how to study naturally, and with\nthe real concentration which learns the lesson most quickly, most\nsurely, and with the least amount of effort. They study a lesson\nwith all the muscles of the body when only the brain is needed, with\na running accompaniment of worry for fear it will not be learned.\n\nGirls can be, have been, trained out of worrying about their\nlessons. Nervous strain is often extreme in students, from\nlesson-worry alone; and indeed in many cases it is the worry that\ntires and brings illness, and not the study. Worry is brain tension.\nIt is partly a vague, unformed sense that work is not being done in\nthe best way which makes the pressure more than it need be; and\ninstead of quietly studying to work to better advantage, the worrier\nallows herself to get more and more oppressed by her anxieties,--as\nwe have seen a child grow cross over a snarl of twine which, with\nvery little patience, might be easily unravelled, but in which, in\nthe child's nervous annoyance, every knot is pulled tighter. Perhaps\nwe ought hardly to expect as much from the worried student as from\nthe child, because the ideas of how to study arc so vague that they\nseldom bring a realization of the fact that there might be an\nimprovement in the way of studying.\n\nThis possible improvement may be easily shown. I have taken a girl\ninclined to the mistaken way of working, asked her to lie on the\nfloor where she could give up entirely to the force of\ngravity,--then after helping her to a certain amount of passivity,\nso that at least she looked quiet, have asked her to give me a list\nof her lessons. Before opening her mouth to answer, she moved in\nlittle nervous twitches, apparently every muscle in her body, from\nhead to foot. I stopped her, took time to bring her again to a quiet\nstate, and then repeated the question. Again the nervous movement\nbegan, but this time the child exclaimed, \"Why, isn't it funny? I\ncannot think without moving all over!\" Here was the Rubicon crossed.\nShe had become alive to her own superfluous tension; and after that\nto train her not only to think without moving all over, but to\nanswer questions easily and quietly and so with more expression, and\nthen to study with greatly decreased effort, was a very pleasant\nprocess.\n\nEvery boy and girl should have this training to a greater or less\ndegree. It is a steady, regular process, and should be so taken. We\nhave come through too many generations of misused force to get back\ninto a natural use of our powers in any rapid way; it must come step\nby step, as a man is trained to use a complicated machine. It seems\nhardly fair to compare such training to the use of a machine,--it\nopens to us such extensive and unlimited power. We can only make the\ncomparison with regard to the first process of development.\n\nA training for concentration of mind should begin with the muscles.\nFirst, learn to withdraw the will from the muscles entirely. Learn,\nnext, to direct the will over the muscles of one arm while the rest\nof the body is perfectly free and relaxed,--first, by stretching the\narm slowly and steadily, and then allowing it to relax; next, by\nclinching the fist and drawing the arm up with all the force\npossible until the elbow is entirely bent. There is not one person\nin ten, hardly one in a hundred, who can command his muscles to that\nslight extent. At first some one must lift the arm that should be\nfree, and drop it several times while the muscles of the other arm\nare contracting; that will make the unnecessary tension evident.\nThere are also ways by which the free arm can be tested without the\nhelp of a second person.\n\nThe power of directing the will over various muscles that should be\nindependent, without the so-called sympathetic contraction of other\nmuscles, should be gained all over the body. This is the beginning\nof concentration in a true sense of the word. The necessity for\nreturning to an absolute freedom of body before directing the will\nto any new part cannot be too often impressed upon the mind. Having\nonce \"sensed\" a free body--so to speak--we are not masters until we\ngain the power to return to it at a moment's notice. In a second we\ncan \"erase previous impressions\" for the time; and that is the\nfoundation, the rock, upon which our house is built.\n\nThen follows the process of learning to think and to speak in\nfreedom. First, as to useless muscular contractions. Watch children\nwork their hands when reciting in class. Tell them to stop, and the\npoor things will, with great effort, hold their hands rigidly still,\nand suffer from the discomfort and strain of doing so. Help them to\nfreedom of body, then to the sense that the working of their hands\nis not really needed, and they will learn to recite with a feeling\nof freedom which is better than they can understand. Sometimes a\nchild must be put on the floor to learn to think quietly and\ndirectly, and to follow the same directions in this manner of\nanswering. It would be better if this could always be done with\nthoughtful care and watching; but as this would be inappropriate\nwith large classes, there are quieting and relaxing exercises to be\npractised sitting and standing, which will bring children to a\nnormal freedom, and help them to drop muscular contractions which\ninterfere with ease and control of thought and expression. Pictures\ncan be described,--scenes from Shakespeare, for instance,--in the\nchild's own words, while making quiet motions. Such exercise\nincreases the sensitiveness to muscular contraction, and unnecessary\nmuscular contraction, beside something to avoid in itself, obviously\nmakes thought _indirect._ A child must think quietly, to express his\nthought quietly and directly. This exercise, of course, also\ncultivates the imagination.\n\nIn all this work, as clear channels are opened for impression and\nexpression, the faculties themselves naturally have a freer growth.\nThe process of quiet thought and expression must be trained in all\nphases,--from the slow description of something seen or imagined or\nremembered, to the quick and correct answer required to an example\nin mental arithmetic, or any other rapid thinking. This, of course,\nmeans a growth in power of attention,--attention which is real\nconcentration, not the strained attention habitual to most of us,\nand which being abnormal in itself causes abnormal reaction. And\nthis natural attention is learned in the use of each separate\nsense,--to see, to hear, to taste, to smell, to touch with quick and\nexact impression and immediate expression, if required, and a in\nobedience to the natural law of the conservation of human energy.\n\nWith the power of studying freely, comes that of dropping a lesson\nwhen it is once well learned, and finding it ready when needed for\nrecitation or for any other use. The temptation to take our work\ninto our play is very great, and often cannot be overcome until we\nhave learned how to \"erase all previous impressions.\" The\nconcentration which enables us all through life to be intent upon\nthe one thing we are doing, whether it is tennis or trigonometry,\nand drop what we have in hand at once and entirely at the right\ntime, free to give out attention fully to the next duty or pleasure,\nis our saving health in mind and body. The trouble is we are afraid.\nWe have no trust. A child is afraid to stop thinking of a lesson\nafter it is learned,--afraid he will forget it. When he has once\nbeen persuaded to drop it, the surprise when he takes it up again,\nto find it more clearly impressed upon his mind, is delightful. One\nmust trust to the digestion of a lesson, as to that of a good\nwholesome dinner. Worry and anxiety interfere with the one as much\nas with the other. If you can drop a muscle when you have ceased\nusing it, that leads to the power of dropping a subject in mind; as\nthe muscle is fresher for use when you need it, so the subject seems\nto have grown in you, and your grasp seems to be stronger when you\nrecur to it.\n\nThe law of rhythm must be carefully followed in this training for\nthe use of the mind. Do not study too long at a time. It makes a\nnatural reaction impossible. Arrange the work so that lessons as far\nunlike as possible may be studied in immediate succession. We help\nto the healthy reaction of one faculty, by exercising another that\nis quite different.\n\nThis principle should be inculcated in classes, and for that purpose\na regular programme of class work should be followed, calculated to\nbring about the best results in all branches of study.\n\nThe first care should be to gain quiet, as through repose of mind\nand body we cultivate the power to \"erase all previous impressions.\"\nIn class, quiet, rhythmic breathing, with closed eyes, is most\nhelpful for a beginning. The eyes must be closed and opened slowly\nand gently, not snapped together or apart; and fifty breaths, a\nlittle longer than they would naturally be, are enough to quiet a\nclass. The breaths must be counted, to keep the mind from wandering,\nand the faces must be watched very carefully, for the expression\noften shows anything but quiet. For this reason it is necessary, in\ninitiating a class, to begin with simple relaxing motions; later\nthese motions will follow the breathing. Then follow exercises for\ndirecting the muscles. The force is directed into one arm with the\nrest of the body free, and so in various simple exercises the power\nof directing the will only to the muscles needed is cultivated.\nAfter the muscle-work, the pupils are asked to centre their minds\nfor a minute on one subject,--the subject to be chosen by some\nmember, with slight help to lead the choice to something that will\nbe suggestive for a minute's thinking. At first it seems impossible\nto hold one subject in mind for a minute; but the power grows\nrapidly as we learn the natural way of concentrating, and instead of\ntrying to hold on to our subject, allow the subject to hold us by\nrefusing entrance to every other thought. In the latter case one\nsuggestion follows another with an ease and pleasantness which\nreminds one of walking through new paths and seeing on every side\nsomething fresh and unexpected. Then the class is asked to think of\na list of flowers, trees, countries, authors, painters, or whatever\nmay be suggested, and see who can think of the greatest number in\none minute. At first, the mind will trip and creak and hesitate over\nthe work, but with practice the list comes steadily and easily. Then\nfollow exercises for quickness and exactness of sight, then for\nhearing, and finally for the memory. All through this process, by\nconstant help and suggestion, the pupils are brought to the natural\nconcentration. With regard to the memory, especial care should be\ntaken, for the harm done by a mechanical training of the memory can\nhardly be computed. Repose and the consequent freedom of body and\nmind lead to an opening of all the faculties for better use; if that\nis so, a teacher must be more than ever alive to lead pupils to the\nspirit of all they are to learn, and make the letter in every sense\nsuggestive of the spirit. First, care should be taken to give\nsomething worth memorizing; secondly, ideas must be memorized before\nthe words. A word is a symbol, and in so far as we have the habit of\nregarding it as such, will each word we hear be more and more\nsuggestive to us. With this habit well cultivated, one sees more in\na single glance at a poem than many could see in several readings.\nYet the reader who sees the most may be unable to repeat the poem\nword for word. In cultivating the memory, the training should be\nfirst for the attention, then for the imagination and the power of\nsuggestive thought; and from the opening of these faculties a true\nmemory will grow. The mechanical power of repeating after once\nhearing so many words is a thing in itself to be dreaded. Let the\npupil first see in mind a series of pictures as the poem or page is\nread, then describe them in his own words, and if the words of the\nauthor are well worth remembering the pupil should be led to them\nfrom the ideas. In the same way a series of interesting or helpful\nthoughts can be learned.\n\nAvoidance of mere mechanism cannot be too strongly insisted upon;\nfor exercise for attaining a wholesome, natural guidance of mind and\nbody cannot be successful unless it rouses in the mind an\nappreciation of the laws of Nature which we are bound to obey. A\nconscious experience of the results of such obedience is essential\nto growth.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\nARTISTIC CONSIDERATIONS\n\n\n\n\n\nALTHOUGH so much time and care are given to the various means of\nartistic expression, it is a singular fact that comparatively little\nattention is given to the use of the very first instrument which\nshould be under command before any secondary instrument can be made\nperfectly expressive.\n\nAn old artist who thanked his friend for admiring his pictures\nadded: \"If you could only see the pictures in my brain. But--\"\npointing to his brain and then to the ends of his fingers--\"the\nchannels from here to here are so long!\" The very sad tone which we\ncan hear in the wail of the painter expresses strongly the\ndeficiencies of our age in all its artistic efforts. The channels\nare shorter just in proportion to their openness. If the way from\nthe brain to the ends of the fingers is perfectly clear, the brain\ncan guide the ends of the fingers to carry out truly its own\naspirations, and the honest expression of the brain will lead always\nto higher ideals. But the channels cannot be free, and the artist\nwill be bound so long as there is superfluous tension in any part of\nthe body. So absolutely necessary, is it for the best artistic\nexpression that the body should throughout be only a servant of the\nmind, that the more we think of it the more singular it seems that\nthe training of the body to a childlike state is not regarded as\nessential, and taken as a matter of course, even as we take our\nregular nourishment.\n\nThe artificial is tension in its many trying and disagreeable\nphases. Art is freedom, equilibrium, rhythm,--anything and\neverything that means wholesome life and growth toward all that is\nreally the good, the true, and the beautiful.\n\nArt is immeasurably greater than we are. If we are free and quiet,\nthe poem, the music, the picture will carry us, so that we shall be\nsurprised at our own expression; and when we have finished, instead\nof being personally elated with conceited delight in what we have\ndone, or exhausted with the superfluous effort used, we shall feel\nas if a strong wind had blown through us and cleared us for better\nwork in the future.\n\nEvery genius obeys the true principle. It is because a genius is\ninvoluntarily under the law of his art that he is pervaded by its\npower. But we who have only talent must learn the laws of genius,\nwhich are the laws of Nature, and by careful study and steady\npractice in shunning all personal obstructions to the laws, bring\nourselves under their sway.\n\nWho would wish to play on a stringed instrument already vibrating\nwith the touch of some one else, or even with the last touch we\nourselves gave it. What noise, what discord, with no possible\nharmonies! So it is with our nerves and muscles. They cannot be used\nfor artistic purposes to the height of their best powers while they\nare tense and vibrating to our own personal states or habits; so\nthat the first thing is to free them absolutely, and not only keep\nthem free by constant practice, but so train them that they will\nbecome perfectly free at a moment's notice, and ready to respond\nclearly to whatever the heart and the mind want to express.\n\nThe finer the instrument, the lighter the touch it will vibrate to.\nIndeed it must have a light touch to respond clearly with musical\nharmonies; any other touch would blur. With a fine piano or a\nviolin, whether the effect is to be _piano_ or _fortissimo,_ the\ntouch should be only with the amount of force needed to give a clear\nvibration, and the ease with which a fortissimo effect is thus\nproduced is astonishing. It is only those with the most delicate\ntouch who can produce from a fine piano grand and powerful harmonies\nwithout a blur.\n\nThe response in a human instrument to a really light touch is far\nmore wonderful than that from any instrument made by man; and bodily\neffort blurs just as much more in proportion. The muscles are all so\nexquisitely balanced in their power for co-ordinate movement, that a\nmuscle pulling one way is almost entirely freed from effort by the\nequalizing power of the antagonizing muscle; and at some rare\nmoments when we have really found the equilibrium and can keep it,\nwe seem to do no more than _think_ a movement or a tone or a\ncombination of words, and they come with so slight a physical\nexertion that it seems like no effort at all.\n\nSo far are we from our possibilities in this lightness of touch in\nthe use of our bodies, that it is impossible now for most of us to\ntouch as lightly as would, after training, bring the most powerful\nresponse. One of the best laws for artistic practice is, \"Every day\nless effort, every day more power.\" As the art of acting is the only\nart where the whole body is used with no subordinate instrument, let\nus look at that with regard to the best results to be obtained by\nmeans of relief from superfluous tension. The effects of unnecessary\neffort are strongly felt in the exhaustion which follows the\ninterpretation of a very exciting role. It is a law without\nexception, that if I absorb an emotion and allow my own nerves to be\nshaken by it, I fail to give it in all its expressive power to the\naudience; and not only do I fall far short in my artistic\ninterpretation, but because of that very failure, come off the stage\nwith just so much nervous force wasted. Certain as this law is, and\ninfallible as are its effects, it is not only generally disbelieved,\nbut it is seldom thought of at all. I must feet Juliet in my heart,\nunderstand her with my mind, and let her vibrate clearly _across_ my\nnerves, to the audience. The moment I let my nerves be shaken as\nJuliet's nerves were in reality, I am absorbing her myself, misusing\nnervous force, preparing to come off the stage thoroughly exhausted,\nand keeping her away from the audience. The present low state of the\ndrama is largely due to this failure to recognize and practise a\nnatural use of the nervous force. To work up an emotion, a most\npernicious practice followed by young aspirants, means to work your\nnerves up to a state of mild or even severe hysteria. This morbid,\ninartistic, nervous excitement actually trains men and women to the\nloss of all emotional control, and no wonder that their nerves play\nthe mischief with them, and that the atmosphere of the stage is kept\nin its present murkiness. The power to work the nerves up in the\nbeginning finally carries them to the state where they must be more\nartificially urged by stimulants; and when the actor is off the\nstage he has no self-control at all. This all means misused and\nover-used force. In no schools is the general influence so\nabsolutely morbid and unwholesome, as in most of the schools of\nelocution and acting.\n\nThe methods by which the necessity for artificial stimulants can be\novercome are so simple and so pleasant and so immediately effective,\nthat it is worth taking the time and space to describe them briefly.\nOf course, to begin with, the body must be trained to perfect\nfreedom in repose, and then to freedom in its use. A very simple way\nof practising is to take the most relaxed attitude possible, and\nthen, without changing it, to recite _with all the expression that\nbelongs to it_ some poem or selection from a play full of emotional\npower. You will become sensitive at once to any new tension, and\nmust stop and drop it. At first, an hour's daily practice will be\nmerely a beginning over and over,--the nervous tension will be so\nevident,--but the final reward is well worth working and waiting\nfor.\n\nIt is well to begin by simply inhaling through the nose, and\nexhaling quietly through the mouth several times; then inhale and\nexhale an exclamation in every form of feeling you can think of Let\nthe exclamation come as easily and freely as the breath alone,\nwithout superfluous tension in any part of the body. So much freedom\ngained, inhale as before, and exhale brief expressive\nsentences,--beginning with very simple expressions, and taking\nsentences that express more and more feeling as your freedom is\nbetter established. This practice can be continued until you are\nable to recite the potion scene in Juliet, or any of Lady Macbeth's\nmost powerful speeches, with an case and freedom which is\nsurprising. This refers only to the voice; the practice which has\nbeen spoken of in a previous chapter brings the same effect in\ngesture.\n\nIt will be readily seen that this power once gained, no actor would\nfind it necessary to skip every other night, in consequence of the\nsevere fatigue which follows the acting of an emotional role. Not\nonly is the physical fatigue saved, but the power of expression, the\npower for intense acting, so far as it impresses the audience, is\nsteadily increased.\n\nThe inability of young persons to express an emotion which they feel\nand appreciate heartily, can be always overcome in this way.\nRelaxing frees the channels, and the channels being open the real\npoetic or dramatic feeling cannot be held back. The relief is as if\none were let out of prison. Personal faults that come from\nself-consciousness and nervous tension may be often cured entirely\nwithout the necessity of drawing attention to them, simply by\nrelaxing.\n\nDramatic instinct is a delicate perception of, quick and keen\nsympathies for, and ability to express the various phases of human\nnature. Deep study and care are necessary for the best development\nof these faculties; but the nerves must be left free to be guided to\nthe true expression,--neither allowed to vibrate to the ecstatic\ndelight of the impressions, or in mistaken sympathy with them, but\nkept clear as conductors of all the heart can feel and the mind\nunderstand in the character or poem to be interpreted.\n\nThis may sound cold. It is not; it is merely a process of relieving\nsuperfluous nervous tension in acting, by which obstructions are\nremoved so that real sympathetic emotions can be stronger and\nfuller, and perceptions keener. Those who get no farther than\nemotional vibrations of the nerves in acting, know nothing whatever\nof the greatness or power of true dramatic instinct.\n\nThere are three distinct schools of dramatic art,--one may be called\ndramatic hysteria, the second dramatic hypocrisy. The first means\nemotional excitement and nervous exhaustion; the second artificial\nsimulation of a feeling. Dramatic sincerity is the third school, and\nthe school that seems most truly artistic. What a wonderful training\nis that which might,--which ought to be given an actor to help him\nrise to the highest possibility of his art!\n\nA free body, exquisitely responsive to every command of the mind, is\nabsolutely necessary; therefore there should be a perfect physical\ntraining. A quick and keen perception to appreciate noble thoughts,\nholding each idea distinctly, and knowing the relations of each idea\nto the others, must certainly be cultivated; for in acting, every\nidea, every word, should come clearly, each taking its own place in\nthe thought expressed.\n\nBroad human sympathies, the imaginative power of identifying himself\nwith all phases of human nature, if he has an ideal in his\nprofession above the average, an actor cannot lack. This last is\nquite impossible without broad human charity; for \"to observe truly\nyou must sympathize with those you observe, and to sympathize with\nthem you must love them, and to love them you must forget yourself.\"\nAnd all these requisites--the physical state, the understanding, and\nthe large heart--seem to centre in the expression of a well-trained\nvoice,--a voice in which there is the minimum of body and the\nmaximum of soul.\n\nBy training, I always mean a training into Nature. As I have said\nbefore, if art is Nature illuminated, we must find Nature before we\ncan reach art. The trouble is that in acting, more than in any other\nart, the distinction between what is artistic and what is artificial\nis neither clearly understood nor appreciated; yet so marked is the\ndifference when once we see it, that the artificial may well be\ncalled the hell of art, as art itself is heavenly.\n\nSincerity and simplicity are the foundations of art. A feigning of\neither is often necessary to the artificial, but many times\nimpossible. Although the external effect of this natural training is\na great saving of nervous force in acting, the height of its power\ncannot be reached except through a simple aim, from the very heart,\ntoward sincere artistic expression.\n\nSo much for acting. It is a magnificent study, and should be more\ntruly wholesome in its effects than any other art, because it deals\nwith the entire body. But, alas I it seems now the most thoroughly\nmorbid and unwholesome.\n\nAll that has been said of acting will apply also to singing,\nespecially to dramatic singing and study for opera; only with\nsinging even more care should be taken. No singer realizes the\nnecessity of a quiet, absolutely free body for the best expression\nof a high note, until having gained a certain physical freedom\nwithout singing, she takes a high note and is made sensitive to the\nsuperfluous tension all over the body, and later learns to reach the\nsame note with the repose which is natural; then the contrast\nbetween the natural and the unnatural methods of singing becomes\nmost evident,--and not with high notes alone, but with all notes,\nand all combinations of notes. I speak of the high note first,\nbecause that is an extreme; for with the majority of singers there\nis always more or less fear when a high note is coming lest it may\nnot be reached easily and with all the clearness that belongs to it.\nThis fear in itself is tension. For that reason one must learn to\nrelax to a high note. A free body relieves the singer immensely from\nthe mechanism of singing. So perfect is the unity of the body that a\nvoice will not obey perfectly unless the body, as a whole, be free.\nOnce secure in the freedom of voice and body to obey, the song can\nburst forth with all the musical feeling, and all the deep\nappreciation of the words of which the singer is capable. Now,\nunfortunately, it is not unusual in listening to a public singer, to\nfeel keenly that he is entirely adsorbed in the mechanism of his\nart.\n\nIf this freedom is so helpful, indeed so necessary, to reach one's\nhighest power in singing, it is absolutely essential on the operatic\nstage. With it we should have less of the wooden motion so common to\nsingers in opera. When one is free, physically free, the music seems\nto draw out the acting. With a great composer and an interpreter\nfree to respond, the music and the body of the actor are one in\ntheir power of expressing the emotions. And the songs without words\nof the interludes so affect the spirit of the singer that, whether\nquiet or in motion, he seems, through being a living embodiment of\nthe music, to impress the sense of seeing so that it increases the\npleasure of hearing.\n\nI am aware that this standard is ideal; but it is not impossible to\napproach it,--to come at least much nearer to it than we do now,\nwhen the physical movements on the stage are such, that one wants to\nlisten to most operas with closed eyes.\n\nWe have considered artistic expression when the human body alone is\nthe instrument. When the body is merely a means to the use of a\nsecondary instrument, a primary training of the body itself is\nequally necessary.\n\nA pianist practises for hours to command his fingers and gain a\ntouch which will bring the soul from his music, without in the least\nrealizing that so long as he is keeping other muscles in his body\ntense, and allowing the nervous force to expend itself unnecessarily\nin other directions, there never will be clear and open channels\nfrom his brain to his fingers; and as he literally plays with his\nbrain, and not with his fingers, free channels for a magnetic touch\nare indispensable.\n\nTo watch a body _give_ to the rhythm of the music in playing is most\nfascinating. Although the motion is slight, the contrast between\nthat and a pianist stiff and rigid with superfluous tension is, very\nmarked, and the difference in touch when one relaxes to the music\nwith free channels has been very clearly proved. Beside this, the\nfreedom in mechanism which follows the exercises for arms and hands\nis strikingly noticeable.\n\nWith the violin, the same physical equilibrium of motion must be\ngained; in fact it is equally necessary in all musical performance,\nas the perfect freedom of the body is always necessary before it can\nreach its highest power in the use of any secondary instrument.\n\nIn painting, the freer a body is the more perfectly the mind can\ndirect it. How often we can see clearly in our minds a straight line\nor a curve or a combination of both, but our hands will not obey the\nbrain, and the picture fails. It does not by any means follow that\nwith free bodies we can direct the hand at once to whatever the\nbrain desires, but simply that by making the body free, and so a\nperfect servant of the mind, it can be brought to obey the mind in a\nmuch shorter time and more directly, and so become a truer channel\nfor whatever the mind wishes to accomplish.\n\nIn the highest art, whatever form it may take, the law of simplicity\nis perfectly illustrated.\n\nIt would be tiresome to go through a list of the various forms of\nartistic expression; enough has been said to show the necessity for\na free body, sensitive to respond to, quick to obey, and open to\nexpress the commands of its owner.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\nTESTS\n\n\n\n\n\nADOPTING the phrase of our forefathers, with all its force and\nbrevity, we say, \"The proof of the pudding is in the eating.\"\n\nIf the laws adduced in this book are Nature's laws, they should\npreserve us in health and strength. And so they do just so far as we\ntruly and fully obey them.\n\nThen are students and teachers of these laws never ill, never run\ndown, \"nervous,\" or prostrated? Yes, they are sometimes ill,\nsometimes run down and overworked, and suffer the many evil effects\nensuing; but the work which has produced these results is much\ngreater and more laborious than would have been possible without the\npractice of the principles. At the same time their states of illness\noccur because they only partially obey the laws. In the degree which\nthey obey they will be preserved from the effects of tensity,\noverstrung nerves, and generally worn-out bodies; and in sickness\ncoming from other causes--mechanical, hereditary, etc.--again,\naccording to their obedience, they will be held in all possible\nphysical and mental peace, so that the disease may wither and drop\nlike the decayed leaf of a plant.\n\nAs well might we ask of the wisest clergyman in the land, Do his\ntruths _never_ fail him? Is he _always_ held in harmony and nobility\nby their power? However great and good the man may be, this state of\nperfection will never be reached in this world.\n\nIn exact parallel to the spiritual laws upon which all universal\ntruth, of all religions, is founded, are the truths of this teaching\nof physical peace and equilibrium. As religion applies to all the\nneeds of the soul, so this applies to all the needs of the body. As\na man may be continually progressing in nobility of thought and\naction, and yet find himself under peculiar circumstances tried even\nto the stumbling point,--so may the student of bodily quiet and\nequilibrium, who appears even to a very careful observer to be in\nsurprising possession of his forces, under a similar test stumble\nand fall into some form of the evil effects out of which he has had\npower to lead others.\n\nIt is important that this parallelism should be recognized, that the\nunity of these truths may be finally accomplished in the living;\ntherefore we repeat, Is this any more possible than that the full\ncontrol of the soul should be at once possessed?\n\nThink of the marvellous construction of the human body,--the\nexquisite adjustment of its economy. Could a power of control\nsufficient to apply to its every detail be fully acquired at once,\nor even in a life-time?\n\nBut when one does fall who has made himself even partially at one\nwith Nature's way of living, the power of patient waiting for relief\nis very different. He separates himself from his ailments in a way\nwhich without the preparation would be to him unknown. He has,\nwithout drug or other external assistance, an anodyne always within\nhimself which he can use at pleasure. He positively experiences that\n\"underneath are the everlasting arms,\" and the power to experience\nthis gives him much respite from pain.\n\nPain is so often prolonged and accentuated _by dwelling in its\nmemory, _living in a self-pity of the time when it shall come again!\nThe patient who comes to his test with the bodily and mental repose\nalready acquired, cuts off each day from the last, each hour from\nthe last, one might almost say each breath from the last, so strong\nis his confidence in the renewal of forces possible to those who\ngive themselves quite trustfully into Nature's hands.\n\nIt is not that they refuse external aid or precaution. No; indeed\nthe very quiet within makes them feel most keenly when it is orderly\nto rest and seek the advice of others. Also it makes them faithful\nin following every direction which will take them back into the\nrhythm of a healthful life.\n\nBut while they do this they do not centre upon it. They take the\nprecautions as a means and not as an end. They centre upon that\nwhich they have within themselves, and they know that that possible\npower being in a state of disorder and chaos no one or all of the\noutside measures are of any value.\n\nAs patients prepared by the work return into normal life, the false\nexhilaration, which is a sure sign of another stumble, is seen and\navoided. They have learned a serious lesson in economy, and they\nprofit by it. Where they were free before, they become more so; and\nwhere they were not, they quietly set themselves toward constant\ngain. They work at lower pressure, steadily gaining in spreading the\nfreedom and quiet deeper into their systems, thus lessening the\ndanger of future falls.\n\nLet us state some of the causes for \"breaking down,\" even while\ntrying well to learn Nature's ways.\n\nFirst, a trust in one's own capacity for freedom and quiet. \"I can\ndo this, now that I know how to relax.\" When truly considered, the\nthing is out of reason, and we should say, \"Because I know how to\nrelax, I see that I must not do this.\"\n\nThe case is the same with the gymnast who greatly overtaxes his\nmuscle, having foolishly concluded that because he has had some\ntraining he can successfully meet the test. There is nothing so\ntruly stupid as self-satisfaction; and these errors, with all others\nof the same nature, re fruits of our stupidity, and unless shunned\nsurely lead us into trouble.\n\nSome natures, after practice, relax so easily that they are soon met\nby the dangers of overrelaxation. Let them remember that it is\nreally equilibrium they are seeking, and by balancing their activity\nand their relaxation, and relaxing only as a means to an end,--the\nend of greater activity and use later,--they avoid any such ill\neffect.\n\nAs the gymnast can mistake the purpose of his muscular development,\nputting it in the place of greater things, regarding it as an end\ninstead of a means,--so can he who is training for a better use of\nhis nervous force. In the latter case, the signs of this error are a\nslackened circulation, a loathing to activity, and various\nevanescent sensations of peace and satisfaction which bear no test,\nvanishing as soon as they are brought to the slightest trial.\n\nUnless you take up your work with fresh interest and renewed vigor\neach time after practice, you may know that all is not as it should\nbe.\n\nTo avoid all these mistakes, examine the work of each day and let\nthe next improve upon it.\n\nIf you are in great need of relaxing, take more exercise in the\nfresh air. If unable to exercise, get your balance by using slow and\nsteady breaths, which push the blood vigorously over its path in the\nbody, and give one, to a degree, the effect of exercise.\n\nDo not mistake the disorders which come at first, when turning away\nfrom an unnatural and wasteful life of contractions, for the effects\nof relaxing. Such disorders are no more caused by relaxing than are\nthe disorders which beset a drunkard or an opium-eater, upon\nrefusing to continue in the way of his error, primarily caused by\nthe abandonment of his evil habit, even though the appearance is\nthat he must return to it in order to re-establish his\npseudo-equilibrium.\n\nOne more cause of trouble, especially in working without a guide, is\nthe habit of going through the form of the exercises without really\ndoing them. The tests needed here have been spoken of before.\n\nDo not separate your way of practising from your way of living, but\nseparate your life entirely from your practice while practising,\ntrying outside of this time always to accomplish the agreement of\nthe two,--that is, live the economy of force that you are\npractising. You can be just as gay, just as vivacious, but without\nthe fatiguing after-effects.\n\nAs you work to gain the ideal equilibrium, if your test comes, do\nnot be staggered nor dismayed. Avoid its increase by at once giving\ncareful consideration to the causes, and dropping them. Keep your\nlife quietly to the form of its usual action, as far as you wisely\ncan. If you have gained even a little appreciation of equilibrium,\nyou will not easily mistake and overdo.\n\nWhen you find yourself becoming bound to the dismal thought of your\ntest and its terrors, free yourself from it every time, by\nconcentrating upon the weight of your body, or the slowness of the\nslowest breaths you can draw. Keep yourself truly free, and these\nfeelings of discouragement and all other mental distortions will\nsteadily lose power, until for you they are no more. If they last\nlonger than you think they should, persist in every endeavor,\nknowing that the after-result, in increased capacity to help\nyourself and others, will be in exact ratio to your power of\npersistency without succumbing.\n\nThe only way to keep truly free, and therefore ready to profit by\nthe help Nature always has at hand, is to avoid thought of your form\nof illness as far as possible. The man with indigestion gives the\nstomach the first place in his mind; he is a mass of detailed and\nsubdued activity, revolving about a monstrous stomach,--his brain,\nheart, lungs, and other organs, however orderly they may be, are of\nno consideration, and are slowly made the degraded slaves of himself\nand his stomach.\n\nThe man who does not sleep, worships sleep until all life seems\n_sleep,_ and no life any importance without it. He fixes his mind on\nnot sleeping, rushes for his watch with feverish intensity if a nap\ndoes come, to gloat over its brevity or duration, and then wonders\nthat each night brings him no more sleep.\n\nThere is nothing more contracting to mind and body than such\nidol-worship. Neither blood nor nervous fluid can flow as it should.\n\nLet us be sincere in our work, and having gained even one step\ntoward a true equilibrium, hold fast to it, never minding how\nseverely we are tempted.\n\nWe see the work of quiet and economy, the lack of strain and of\nfalse purpose, in fine old Nature herself; let us constantly try to\ndo our part to make the picture as evident, as clear and distinct,\nin God's greater creation,--Human Nature.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXVII\n\nTHE RATIONAL CARE OF SELF\n\n\n\n\n\nA WOMAN who had had some weeks of especially difficult work for mind\nand body, and who had finished it feeling fresh and well, when a\nfriend expressed surprise at her freedom from fatigue, said, with a\nsmiling face: \"Oh! but I took great care of myself all through it: I\nalways went to bed early, and rested when it was possible. I was\ncareful to eat only nourishing food, and to have exercise and fresh\nair when I could get them. You see I knew that the work must be\naccomplished, and that if I were over-tired I could not do it well.\"\nThe work, instead of fatiguing, had evidently refreshed her.\n\nIf that same woman had insisted, as many have in similar cases, that\nshe had no time to think of herself; or if such care had seemed to\nher selfish, her work could not have been done as well, she would\nhave ended it tired and jaded, and would have declared to\nsympathizing friends that it was \"impossible to do a work like that\nwithout being all tired out,\" and the sympathizing friends would\nhave agreed and thought her a heroine.\n\nA well-known author, who had to support his wife and family while\nworking for a start in his literary career, had a commercial\nposition that occupied him every day from nine to five. He came home\nand dined at six, went to bed at seven, slept until three, when he\ngot up, made himself a cup of coffee, and wrote until he breakfasted\nat eight. He got all the exercise he needed in walking to and from\nhis outside work and was able to keep up this regular routine, with\nno loss of health, until he could support his family comfortably on\nwhat he earned from his pen. Then he returned to ordinary hours.\n\nA brain once roused will take a man much farther than his strength;\nif this man had come home tired and allowed himself to write far\ninto the night, and then, after a short sleep, had gone to the\nindispensable earning of his bread and butter, the chances are that\nhis intellectual power would have decreased, until both publishers\nand author would have felt quite certain that he had no power at\nall.\n\nThe complacent words, \"I cannot think of myself,\" or, \"It is out of\nthe question for me to care for myself,\" or any other of the various\nforms in which the same idea is expressed, come often from those who\nare steadily thinking of themselves, and, as a natural consequence,\nare so blinded that they cannot see the radical difference between\nunselfish care for one's self, as a means to an end, and the selfish\ncare for one's self which has no other object in view.\n\nThe wholesome care is necessary to the best of all good work. The\nmorbid care means steady decay for body and soul.\n\nWe should care for our bodies as a violinist cares for his\ninstrument. It is the music that comes from his violin which he has\nin mind, and he is careful of his instrument because of its musical\npower. So we, with some sense of the possible power of a healthy\nbody, should be careful to keep it fully supplied with fresh air; to\nkeep it exercised and rested; to supply it with the quality and\nquantity of nourishment it needs; and to protect it from unnecessary\nexposure. When, through mistake or for any other reason, our bodies\nget out of order, instead of dwelling on our discomfort, we should\ntake immediate steps to bring them back to a normal state.\n\nIf we learned to do this as a matter of course, as we keep our hands\nclean, even though we had to be conscious of our bodies for a short\ntime while we were gaining the power, the normal care would lead to\na happy unconsciousness. Carlyle says, and very truly, that we are\nconscious of no part of our bodies until it is out of order, and it\ncertainly follows that the habit of keeping our bodies in order\nwould lead us eventually to a physical freedom which, since our\nchildhood, few of us have known. In the same way we can take care of\nour minds with a wholesome spirit. We can see to it that they are\nexercised to apply themselves well, that they are properly diverted,\nand know how to change, easily, from one kind of work to another. We\ncan be careful not to attempt to sleep directly after severe mental\nwork, but first to refresh our minds by turning our attention into\nentirely different channels in the way of exercise or amusement.\n\nWe must not allow our minds to be over-fatigued any more than our\nbodies, and we must learn how to keep them in a state of quiet\nreadiness for whatever work or emergency may be before them.\n\nThere is also a kind of moral care which is quite in line with the\ncare of the mind and the body, and which is a very material aid to\nthese,--a way of refusing to be irritable, of gaining and\nmaintaining cheerfulness, kindness, and thoughtfulness for others.\n\nIt is well known how much the health of any one part of us depends\nupon all the others. The theme of one of Howells's novels is the\nsteady mental, moral, and physical degeneration of a man from eating\na piece of cold mince-pie at midnight, and the sequence of steps by\nwhich he is led down is a very natural process. Indeed, how much\nirritability and unkindness might be traced to chronic indigestion,\nwhich originally must have come from some careless disobedience of\nsimple physical laws.\n\nWhen the stomach is out of order, it needs more than its share of\nvital force to do its work, and necessarily robs the brain; but when\nit is in good condition this force may be used for mental work. Then\nagain, when we are in a condition of mental strain or unhealthy\nconcentration, this condition affects our circulation and consumes\nforce that should properly be doing its work elsewhere, and in this\nway the normal balance of our bodies is disturbed.\n\nThe physical and mental degeneration that follows upon moral\nwrong-doing is too well known to dwell upon. It is self-evident in\nconspicuous cases, and very real in cases that are too slight to\nattract general attention. We might almost say that little ways of\nwrongdoing often produce a worse degeneration, for they are more\nsubtle in their effects, and more difficult to realize, and\ntherefore to eradicate.\n\nThe wise care for one's self is simply steering into the currents of\nlaw and order,--mentally, morally, and physically. When we are once\nestablished in that life and our forces are adjusted to its\ncurrents, then we can forget ourselves, but not before: and no one\ncan find these currents of law and order and establish himself in\nthem, unless he is working for some purpose beyond his own health.\nFor a man may be out of order physically, mentally, or morally\nsimply for the want of an aim in life beyond his own personal\nconcerns. No care is to any purpose--indeed, it is injurious--unless\nwe are determined to work for an end which is not only useful in\nitself, but is cultivating in us a living interest in\naccomplishment, and leading us on to more usefulness and more\naccomplishment. The physical, mental, and moral man are all three\nmutually interdependent, but all the care in the world for each and\nall of them can only lead to weakness instead of strength, unless\nthey are all three united in a definite purpose of useful life for\nthe benefit of others.\n\nEven a hobby re-acts upon itself and eats up the man who follows it,\nunless followed to some useful end. A man interested in a hobby for\nselfish purposes alone first refuses to look at anything outside of\nhis hobby, and later turns his back on everything but his own idea\nof his hobby. The possible mental contraction which may follow, is\nalmost unlimited, and such contraction affects the whole man.\n\nIt is just as certain a law for an individual that what he gives out\nmust have a definite relation to what he takes in, as it is for the\nbest strength of a country that its imports and exports should be in\nproper balance. Indeed, this law is much more evident in the case of\nthe individual, if we look only a little below the surface. A man\ncan no more expect to live without giving out to others than a\nshoemaker can expect to earn his bread and butter by making shoes\nand leaving them piled in a closet.\n\nTo be sure, there are many men who are well and happy, and yet, so\nfar as appearances go, are living entirely for themselves, with not\nonly no thought of giving, but a decided unwillingness to give. But\ntheir comfort and health are dependent on temporary conditions, and\nthe external well-being they have acquired would vanish, if a\nserious demand were made upon their characters.\n\nHappy the man or woman who, through illness of body or soul, or\nthrough stress of circumstances, is aroused to appreciate the\nstrengthening power of useful work, and develops a wholesome sense\nof the usefulness and necessity of a rational care of self!\n\nTry to convince a man that it is better on all accounts that he\nshould keep his hands clean and he might answer, \"Yes, I appreciate\nthat; but I have never thought of my hands, and to keep them clean\nwould make me conscious of them.\" Try to convince an\nunselfishly-selfish or selfishly-unselfish person that the right\ncare for one's self means greater usefulness to others, and you will\nhave a most difficult task. The man with dirty hands is quite right\nin his answer. To keep his hands clean would make him more conscious\nof them, but he does not see that, after he had acquired the habit\nof cleanliness, he would only be conscious of his hands when they\nwere dirty, and that this consciousness could be at any time\nrelieved by soap and water. The selfishly-unselfish person is right:\nit is most pernicious to care for one's self in a self-centred\nspirit; and if we cannot get a clear sense of wholesome care of\nself, it is better not to care at all.\n\nWith a perception of the need for such wholesome care, would come a\ngrowing realization of the morbidness of all self-centred care, and\na clearer, more definite standard of unselfishness. For the\nself-centred care takes away life, closes the sympathies, and makes\nuseful service obnoxious to us; whereas the wholesome care, with\nuseful service as an end, gives renewed life, an open sympathy, and\ngrowing power for further usefulness.\n\nWe do not need to study deeply into the laws of health, but simply\nto obey those we know. This obedience will lead to our knowing more\nlaws and knowing them better, and it will in time become a very\nsimple matter to distinguish the right care from the wrong, and to\nget a living sense of how power increases with the one, and\ndecreases with the other.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXVIII.\n\nOUR RELATIONS WITH OTHERS\n\n\n\n\n\nEVERY one will admit that our relations to others should be quiet\nand clear, in order to give us freedom for our work. Indeed, to make\nthese relations quiet and happy is the special work that some of us\nhave to do. There are laws for health, laws for gaining and keeping\nnormal nerves, laws for honest, kindly action toward others,--but\nthe obedience to all these is a dead obedience, and does not lead to\nvigorous life, unless accompanied by a hearty love for work and play\nwith those to whom we stand in natural relations,--both young and\nold. It is with life as it is with art, what we do must be done with\nlove, or it will have no force. Without the living spark of love, we\nmay have the appearance, but never the spirit, of useful work or\nquiet content. Stagnation is not peace, and there can be no life,\nand so no living peace, without happy relations with those about us.\n\nThe more we realize the practical strength of the law which bids us\nlove our neighbor as ourselves, and the more we act upon it, the\nmore quickly we gain the habit of pleasant, patient friendliness,\nwhich sooner or later may beget the same friendliness in return. In\nthis kind of friendly relation there is a savor which so surpasses\nthe unhealthy snap of disagreement, that any one who truly finds it\nwill soon feel the fallacy of the belief that \"between friends there\nmust be a little quarrelling, to give spice to friendship.\"\n\nTo be willing that every one should be himself, and work out his\nsalvation in his own way, seems to be the first principle of the\nworking plan drawn from the law of loving your neighbor as yourself.\nIf we drop all selfish resistance to the ways of others, however\nwrong or ignorant they may be, we are more free to help them to\nbetter ways when they turn to us for help. It is in pushing and\nbeing pushed that we feel most strain in all human relations.\n\nWe wait willingly for the growth of plants, and do not complain, or\ntry in abnormal ways to force them to do what is entirely contrary\nto the laws of nature; and if we paid more attention to the laws of\nhuman nature, we should not stunt the growth of children, relatives,\nand friends by resisting their efforts,--or their lack of\neffort,--or by trying to force them into ways that we think must be\nright for them because we are sure they are right for us.\n\nThere is a selfish, restless way of pushing others \"for their own\ngood\" and straining to \"help\" them, and there is a selfish, entirely\nthoughtless way of letting them alone; it is difficult to tell which\nis the worse, or which does more harm. The first is the attitude of\nunconscious hypocrisy; the second is that of selfish indifference.\nIt is in letting alone, with a loving readiness to help, that we\nfind strength and peace for ourselves in our relations with others.\n\nAll great laws are illustrated most clearly in their simplest forms,\nand there is no better way to get a sense of really free and\nwholesome relations with others than from the relations of a mother\nwith her baby. Even healthy reciprocity is there, in all the fulness\nof its best beginnings, and the results of wholesome, rational,\nmaternal care are evident to the delighted observer in the joyous\nfreedom with which the baby mind develops according to the laws of\nits own life.\n\nHeidi is a baby not yet a year old, and is left alone a large part\nof the day. Having no amusements imposed upon her, she has formed\nthe habit of entertaining herself in her own way; she greets you\nwith the most fascinating little gurgles, and laughs up at you when\nyou stop and speak to her as if to say, \"How do you do? I am having\na _very_ happy time!\" Five minutes' smiling and being smiled at by\nher gives a friend who stops to talk \"a _very_ happy time\" too. If\nyou take her up for a little while, she stays quietly and looks at\nyou, then at the trees or at something in the room, then at her own\nhand. If you say \"ah,\" or \"oo,\" she answers with a vowel too; so the\nconversation begins and goes on, with jolly little laughter every\nnow and then, and when you give her a gentle kiss and put her down,\nher good-bye is a very contented one, and her \"Thank you; please\ncome again,\" is quite as plainly understood as if she had said it.\nYou leave her, feeling that you have had a very happy visit with one\nof your best friends.\n\nHeidi is not officiously interfered with; she has the best of care.\nWhen she cries, every means is taken to find the cause of her\ntrouble; and when the trouble is remedied, she stops. She is a dear\nlittle friend, and gives and takes, and grows.\n\nAnother baby of the same age is Peggy. She is needlessly handled and\ncaressed. She is kissed a hundred times a day with rough affection,\nwhich is mistaken for tenderness and love. She is \"bounced\" up and\ndown and around; and the people about her, who believe themselves\nher friends and would be heartbroken if she were taken from them,\ntalk at her, and not with her; they make her do \"cunning little\nthings,\" and then laugh and admire; they try over and over to force\nher to speak words when her little brain is not ready for the\neffort; and when she is awake, she is almost constantly surrounded\nby \"loving\" noise. Peggy is capable of being as good a friend as\nHeidi, but she is not allowed to be. Her family are so overwhelmed\nby their own feelings of love and admiration that they really only\nlove themselves in her, for they give her not the slightest\nopportunity to be herself. The poor baby has sleepless, crying\nnights, and a little irritating illness hanging about her all the\ntime; the doctor is called, and every one wonders why she should be\nill; every one worries about her; but the caressing and noisy\naffection go on. Although much of the difference between these two\nbabies could probably be accounted for by differences of heredity\nand temperament, it nevertheless remains true that it is very\nlargely the result of a difference between wise and foolish parents.\n\nThe real friendship which her mother gave to Heidi, and which\nresulted in her happy, placid ways and quickly responsive\nintelligence, meets with a like response in older children; and\nreciprocal friendship grows in strength and in pleasure both for\nchild and older friend, as the child grows older. When a child is\npermitted the freedom of his own individuality, he can show the best\nin himself. When he is tempted to go wrong, he can be rationally\nguided in the right way in such a manner that he will accept the\nguidance as an act of friendship; and to that friendship he will\nfeel bound in honor to be true, because he knows that we, his\nfriends, are obeying the same laws. Of course all this comes to him\nfrom no conscious action of his own mind, but from an unconscious,\ncontented recognition of the state of mind of his older friends.\n\nA poor woman, who lived in one room with her husband and two\nchildren, said once in a flash of new intelligence, \"Now I see: the\nmore I hollers, the more the children hollers; I am not going to\nholler any more.\" There are various grades of \"hollering;\" we\n\"holler\" often without a sound, and the child feels it, and\n\"hollers\" with many sounds which are distressing to him and to us.\n\nIt is primarily true with babies and young children that \"if you\nwant to have a friend, you must be a friend.\" If we want courtesy\nand kindliness from a child, we must be courteous and kindly to him.\nNot in outside ways alone,--a child quickly feels the sham of mere\nsuperficial attention,--but sincerely, with a living interest.\n\nSo should we truly, from our inmost selves, meet a child as if he\nwere of our own age, and as if we were of his age. This sounds like\na paradox, but indeed the one proposition is essential to the other.\nIf we meet a child only as if he were of our age, our attitude tends\nto make him a little prig; if we meet him as if we were as young as\nhe is, his need for maturer influences produces a lack of balance\nwhich we must both feet; but if we sincerely meet him as if the\nexchange of age were mutual, we find common ground and valuable\ncompanionship.\n\nThis mutual understanding is the basis of all true friendship. Only\nread, instead of \"age,\" \"habit of mind,\" \"character,\" \"state,\" and\nwe have the whole. It is aiming for reciprocal relations, from the\nbest in us to the best in others, and from the best in others to the\nbest in ourselves. It is the foundation of all that is\nstrengthening, and quiet, and happy, in all human intercourse with\nyoung and old.\n\nTo gain the friendly habit is more difficult with our contemporaries\nthan it is with children. We have no right to guide older people\nunless they want to be guided, and they often want to guide us in\nways we do not like at all. We have no right to try to change their\nopinions, unless they ask us for new light; and they often insist\nupon trying to change ours whether we ask them or not. There is sure\nto be selfish resistance in us when we complain of it in others, and\nwe must acknowledge it and get free from it before we can give or\nfind the most helpful sympathy.\n\nA healthy letting people alone, and a good wholesome scouring of\nourselves, will, if it is to come at all, bring open friendliness.\nIf it is not to come, then the healthy letting people alone should\ncontinue, for it is possible to live in the same house with a wilful\nand trying character, and live at peace, if he is lovingly let\nalone. If he is unlovingly let alone, the peace will be only on the\noutside, and must sooner or later give way to storms, or, what is\nmuch worse, harden into unforgiving selfishness.\n\nOur influence with others depends primarily upon what we are, and\nonly secondarily upon what we think or upon what we say. It is so\nwith babies and young children, and more so with our older friends.\nIf we honestly feel that there is something for us to learn from\nanother, however wrong or ignorant, in some ways, he may seem, we\nare not only more able to find and profit by the best in him, but\nalso to give to him in return whatever he may be ready to receive.\nHow little quiet comfort there is in families where useless\nresistance to one another is habitual! Members of one family often\nlive along together with more or less appearance of good fellowship,\nbut with an inner strain which gives them drawn faces and tired\nbodies, or else throws them back upon themselves in the enjoyment of\ntheir own selfishness; and sometimes there is not even the\nappearance of good fellowship, but a chronic resistance and\ndisagreement, all for the want of a little sympathy and common\nsense.\n\nIt is the sensitive people that suffer most, and their sensitiveness\nis deplored by the family and by themselves. If they could only know\nhow great a gift their sensitiveness is! To appreciate this, it must\nbe used to find and feel the good in others, not to make us\nabnormally alive to real or fancied slights. We must use it to\nenlarge our sympathies and help us understand the wrong-doing of\nothers enough to point the way, if possible, to better things, not\nmerely to criticise and blame them. Only in such ways can we learn\nto realize and use the delicate power of sensitiveness. Selfish\nsensitiveness is a blessing turned to a curse; but the more lovingly\nsensitive we become to the need of moral freedom in our friends, the\nDearer we are led to our own.\n\nThere are no human relations that do not illustrate the law which\nbids me \"love my neighbor as myself;\" especially clearly is it\nrevealed,--in its breach of observance,--in the comparatively\nexternal relations of host and guest in ordinary social life, and in\nthe happiness that can be given and received when it is readily\nobeyed.\n\nA lady once said, \"I go into my bedroom and take note of all the\nconveniences I have there, and then look about my guest chamber to\nsee that it is equally well and appropriately furnished.\" She\nsucceeds in her object in the guest chamber if she is the kind of\nhostess to her guest that she would have her guest be to her; not\nthat her guest's tastes are necessarily her own, but that she knows\nhow to find out what they are and how to satisfy them.\n\nIt is often difficult to love our neighbor as ourselves because we\ndo not know how to love ourselves. We are selfish, or stupid, or\naggressive with ourselves, or try too hard for what is right and\ngood, instead of trusting with inner confidence and reverence to a\npower that is above us.\n\nOver-thoughtfulness for others, in little things or great, is\noppressive, and as much an enemy to peace, as the lack of any\nthoughtfulness at all. It is like too much attention to the baby,\nand comes from the same kind of selfish affection, with--frequently\nthe added motive of wanting to appear disinterested.\n\nOne might give pages of examples showing the right and the wrong way\nin all the varied relations of life, but they would all show that\nthe right way comes from obedience to the law of unselfishness. To\nobey this law we must respect our neighbor's rights as we respect\nour own; we must gain and keep the clear and quiet atmosphere that\nwe like to find about our friend; we must shun everything that would\ninterfere with a loving kindliness toward him, as we would have him\nshow the same kindliness toward us. We must know that we and our\nfriends are one, and that, unless a relation is a mutual benefit, it\nis no true relation at all. But, first of all, we must remember that\na true appreciation of the wonderful power of this law comes only\nwith daily, patient working, and waiting for the growth it brings.\n\nIn so far as we are truly the friend of one, whether he be baby,\nchild, or grown man,--shall we be truly the friend of all; in so far\nas we are truly the friend of all, shall we be truly the friend of\nevery one; and, as we find the living peace of this principle, and a\ngreater freedom from selfishness,--whether of affection or\ndislike,--those who truly belong to us will gravitate to our sides,\nand we shall gravitate to theirs. Each one of us will understand his\nown relation to the rest,--whether remote or close,--for in that\nquiet light it will be seen to rest on intelligible law, which only\nthe fog and confusion of selfishness concealed.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nXIX.\n\nTHE USE OF THE WILL\n\n\n\n\n\nIT is not generally recognized that the will can be trained, little\nby little, by as steadily normal a process as the training of a\nmuscle, and that such training must be through regular daily\nexercise, and as slow in its effects as the training of a muscle is\nslow. Perhaps we are unconsciously following, as a race, the law\nthat Froebel has given for the beginnings of individual education,\nwhich bids us lead from the \"outer to the inner,\" from the known to\nthe unknown. There is so much more to be done to make methods of\nmuscular training perfect, that we have not yet come to appreciate\nthe necessity for a systematic training of the will. Every\nindividual, however, who recognizes the need of such training and\nworks accordingly, is doing his part to hasten a more intelligent\nuse of the will by humanity in general.\n\nWhen muscles are trained abnormally their development weakens,\ninstead of strengthening, the whole system. Great muscular strength\nis often deceptive in the appearance of power that it gives; it\noften effectually hides, under a strong exterior, a process of\ndegeneration which is going on within, and it is not uncommon for an\nathlete to die of heart disease or pulmonary consumption.\n\nThis is exactly analogous to the frequently deceptive appearance of\ngreat strength of will. The will is trained abnormally when it is\nused only in the direction of personal desire, and the undermining\neffect upon the character in this case is worse than the weakening\nresult upon the body in the case of abnormal muscular development. A\nperson who is persistently strong in having his own way may be found\ninconsistently weak when he is thwarted in his own way. This\nweakness is seldom evident to the general public, because a man with\na strong will to accomplish his own ends is quick to detect and hide\nany appearance of weakness, when he knows that it will interfere\nwith whatever he means to do. The weakness, however, is none the\nless certainly there, and is often oppressively evident to those\nfrom whom he feels that he has nothing to gain.\n\nWhen the will is truly trained to its best strength, it is trained\nto obey; not to obey persons or arbitrary ideas, but to obey laws of\nlife which are as fixed and true in their orderly power, as the\nnatural laws which keep the suns and planets in their appointed\nspheres. There is no one who, after a little serious reflection, may\nnot be quite certain of two or three fixed laws, and as we obey the\nlaws we know, we find that we discover more.\n\nTo obey truly we must use our wills to yield as well as to act.\nOften the greatest strength is gained through persistent yielding,\nfor to yield entirely is the most difficult work a strong will can\ndo, and it is doing the most difficult work that brings the greatest\nstrength.\n\nTo take a simple example: a small boy with a strong will is troubled\nwith stammering. Every time he stammers it makes him angry, and he\npushes and strains and exerts himself with so much effort to speak,\nthat the stammering, in consequence, increases. If he were told to\ndo something active and very painful, and to persist in it until his\nstammering were cured, he would set his teeth and go through the\nwork like a soldier, so as to be free from the stammering in the\nshortest possible time. But when he is told that he must relax his\nbody and stop pushing, in order to drop the resistance that causes\nhis trouble, he fights against the idea with all his little might.\nIt is all explained to him, and he understands that it is his only\nroad to smooth speaking; but the inherited tendency to use his will\nonly in resistance is so strong, that at first it seems impossible\nfor him to use it in any other way.\n\nThe fact that the will sometimes gains its greatest power by\nyielding seems such a paradox that it is not strange that it takes\nus long to realize it. Indeed, the only possible realization of it\nis through practice.\n\nThe example of the little stammering boy is an illustration that\napplies to many other cases of the same need for giving up\nresistance.\n\nNo matter how actively we need to use our wills, it is often,\nnecessary to drop all self-willed resistance first, before we begin\nan action, if we want to succeed with the least possible effort and\nthe best result.\n\nWhen we use the will forcibly to resist or to repress, we are simply\nstraining our nerves and muscles, and are exerting ourselves in a\nway which must eventually be weakening, not only to them, but to the\nwill itself. We are using the will normally when, without repression\nor unnecessary effort, we are directing the muscles and nerves in\nuseful work. We want \"training and not straining\" as much for the\nwill as for the body, and only in that way does the will get its\nstrength.\n\nThe world admires a man for the strength of his will if he can\ncontrol the appearance of anger, whereas the only strength of will\nthat is not spurious is that which controls the anger itself. We\nhave had the habit for so long of living in appearances, that it is\nonly by a slow process that we acquire a strong sense of their\nfrailty and lack of genuine value. In order to bring the will, by\ntraining, out of the region of appearances into that of realities,\nwe must learn to find the true causes of weakness and use our wills\nlittle by little to remove them. To remove the external effect does\nno permanent good and produces an apparent strength which only hides\nan increasing weakness.\n\nImagine, for instance, a woman with an emotional, excitable nature\nwho is suffering from jealousy; she does not call it jealousy, she\ncalls it \"sensitive nerves,\" and the doctors call it \"hysteria.\" She\nhas severe attacks of \"sensitive nerves\" or \"hysteria\" every time\nher jealousy is excited. It is not uncommon for such persistent\nemotional strain, with its effect upon the circulation and other\nfunctions of the body, to bring on organic disease. In such a case\nthe love of admiration, and the strength of will resulting from that\nselfish desire, makes her show great fortitude, for which she\nreceives much welcome praise. That is the effect she wants, and in\nthe pose of a wonderful character she finds it easy to produce more\nfortitude--and so win more admiration.\n\nA will that is strong for the wrong, may--if taken in time--become\nequally strong for the right. Perversion is not, at first, through\nlack of will, but through the want of true perception to light the\nway to its intelligent use.\n\nA man sometimes appears to be without power of will who is only\nusing a strong will in the wrong way, but if he continues in his\nwrong course long enough, his weakness becomes real.\n\nIf a woman who begins her nervous degeneration by indulging herself\nin jealousy--which is really a gross emotion, however she may refine\nit in appearance--could be made to see the truth, she would, in many\ncases, be glad to use her will in the right direction, and would\nbecome in reality the beautiful character which her friends believe\nher to be. This is especially true because this moral and nervous\nperversion often attacks the finest natures. But when such\nperversion is allowed to continue, the sufferer's strength is always\nprominent in external dramatic effects, but disappears oppressively\nwhen she is brought face to face with realities.\n\nMany people who are nervous invalids, and many who are not, are\nconstantly weakening themselves and making themselves suffer by\nusing their wills vigorously in every way _but_ that which is\nnecessary to their moral freedom: by bearing various unhappy effects\nwith so-called stoicism, or fighting against them with their eyes\ntight shut to the real cause of their suffering, and so hiding an\nincreasing weakness under an appearance of strength.\n\nA ludicrous and gross example of this misuse of the will may be\nobserved in men or women who follow vigorously and ostentatiously\npaths of self-sacrifice which they have marked out for themselves,\nwhile overlooking entirely places where self-denial is not only\nneeded for their better life, but where it would add greatly to the\nhappiness and comfort of others.\n\nIt is curious a such weakness is common with people who are\napparently very intelligent; and parallel with this are cases of men\nwho are remarkably strong in the line of their own immediate\ncareers, and proportionately weak in every other phase of their\nlives. We very seldom find a soldier, or a man who is powerful in\npolitics, who can answer in every principle and action of his life\nto Wordsworth's \"Character of the Happy Warrior.\"\n\nAbsurd as futile self-sacrifice seems, it is not less well balanced\nthan the selfish fortitude of a jealous woman or than the apparent\nstrength of a man who can only work forcibly for selfish ends. The\nwisest use of the will can only grow with the decrease of\nself-indulgence.\n\n\"Nervous\" women are very effective examples of the perversion of a\nstrong will. There are women who will work themselves into an\nillness and seem hopelessly weak when they are not having their own\nway, who would feel quite able to give dinner parties at which they\ncould be prominent in whatever role they might prefer, and would\nforget their supposed weakness with astonishing rapidity. When\nthings do not go to please such women, they are weak and ill; when\nthey stand out among their friends according to their own ideal of\nthemselves and are sufficiently flattered, they enter into work\nwhich is far beyond their actual strength, and sooner or later break\ndown only to be built up on another false basis.\n\nThis strong will turned the wrong way is called \"hysteria,\" or\n\"neurasthenia,\" or \"degeneracy.\" It may be one of these or all\nthree, _in its effect,_ but the training of the will to overcome the\ncause, which is always to be found in some kind of selfishness,\nwould cure the hysteric, give the neurasthenic more wholesome\nnerves, and start the degenerate on a course of regeneration. At\ntimes it would hardly surprise us to hear that a child with a\nstomach-ache crying for more candy was being treated for \"hysteria\"\nand studied as a \"degenerate.\" Degenerate he certainly is, but only\nuntil he can be taught to deny himself candy when it is not good for\nhim, with quiet and content.\n\nThere are many petty self-indulgences which, if continually\npractised, can do great and irreparable harm in undermining the\nwill. Every man or woman knows his own little weaknesses best, but\nthat which leads to the greatest harm is the excuse, \"It is my\ntemperament; if I were not tardy, or irritable, or untidy,\"--or\nwhatever it may be,--\"I would not be myself.\" Our temperament is\ngiven us as a servant, not as a master; and when we discover that an\ninherited perversion of temperament can be trained to its opposite\ngood, and train it so, we do it not at a loss of individuality, but\nat a great gain. This excuse of \"temperament\" is often given as a\nreason for not yielding. The family will is dwelt upon with a pride\nwhich effectually prevents it from keeping its best strength, and\nblinds the members of the family to the weakness that is sure to\ncome, sooner or later, as a result of the misuse of the inheritance\nof which they are so proud.\n\nIf we train our wills to be passive or active, as the need may be,\nin little things, that prepares us for whatever great work may be\nbefore us, just as in the training of a muscle, the daily gentle\nexercise prepares it to lift a great weight.\n\nWhether in little ways or in great ways, it is stupid and useless to\nexpect to gain real strength, unless we are working in obedience to\nthe laws that govern its development. We have a faculty for\ndistinguishing order from disorder and harmony from discord, which\ngrows in delicacy and strength as we use it, and we can only use it\nthrough refusing disorder and choosing order. As our perception\ngrows, we choose more wisely, and as we choose more wisely, our\nperception grows. But our perceptions must work in causes, not at\nall in effects, except as they lead us to a knowledge of causes. We\nmust, above all, train our wills as a means of useful work. It is\nimpossible to perfect ourselves for the sake of ourselves.\n\nIt is a happy thing to have been taught the right use of the will as\na child, but those of us who have not been so taught, can be our own\nfathers and our own mothers, and we must be content with a slow\ngrowth. We are like babies learning to walk. The baby tries day\nafter day, and does not feel any strain, or wake in the morning with\na distressing sense of \"Oh! I must practise walking to-day. When\nshall I have finished learning?\" He works away, time after time\nfalling down and picking himself up, and some one day finally walks,\nwithout thinking about it any more. So we, in the training of our\nwills, need to work patiently day by day; if we fall, we must pick\nourselves up and go on, and just as the laws of balance guide the\nbaby, so the laws of life will carry us.\n\nWhen the baby has succeeded in walking, he is not elated at his new\npower, but uses it quietly and naturally to accomplish his ends. We\ncannot realize too strongly that any elation or personal pride on\nour part in a better use of the will, not only obstructs its growth,\nbut is directly and immediately weakening.\n\nA quiet, intelligent use of the will is at the root of all\ncharacter; and unselfish, well-balanced character, with the insight\nwhich it develops, will lead us to well-balanced nerves.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nSUMMING UP\n\n\n\n\n\nTO sum it all up, the nerves are conductors for impression and\nexpression. As channels, they should be as free as Emerson's \"smooth\nhollow tube,\" for transmission from without in, and from within out.\nThus the impressions will be clear, and the expressions powerful.\n\nThe perversions in the way of allowing to the nerves the clear\nconducting power which Nature would give them are, so far as the\nbody is concerned, unnecessary fatigue and strain caused by not\nresting entirely when the times come for rest, and by working with\nmore than the amount of force needed to accomplish our ends,--thus\ndefying the natural laws of equilibrium and economy. Not only in the\nways mentioned do we defy these most powerful laws, but, because of\ncarelessness in nourishment and want of normal exercise out of\ndoors, we make the establishment of such equilibrium impossible.\n\nThe nerves can never be open channels while the body wants either\nproper nourishment, the stimulus that comes from open air exercise,\nperfect rest, or true economy of force in running the human machine.\n\nThe physical training should be a steady shunning of personal\nperversions until the nervous system is in a natural state, and the\nmuscles work in direct obedience to the will with the exquisite\nco-ordination which is natural to them.\n\nThe same equilibrium must be found in the use of the mind. Rest must\nbe complete when taken, and must balance the effort in work,--rest\nmeaning often some form of recreation as well as the passive rest of\nsteep. Economy of effort should be gained through normal\nconcentration,--that is, the power of erasing all previous\nimpressions and allowing a subject to hold and carry us, by dropping\nevery thought or effort that interferes with it, in muscle, nerve,\nand mind. The nerves of the senses must be kept clear through this\nsame ability to drop all previous impressions.\n\nFirst in importance, and running all through the previous training,\nis the use of the will, from which all these servants, mental and\nphysical, receive their orders,--true or otherwise as the will\nitself obeys natural and spiritual laws in giving them. The\nperversions in the will to be shunned are misuse of muscles by want\nof economy in force and power of direction; abuse of the nervous\nsystem by unwisely dwelling upon pain and illness beyond the\nnecessary care for the relief of either, or by allowing sham\nemotions, irritability, and all other causes of nervous distemper to\novercome us.\n\nThe remedy for this is to make a peaceful state possible through a\nnormal training of the physique; to realize and follow a wholesome\nlife in all its phases; to recognize daily more fully through\nobedience the great laws of life by which we must be governed, as\ncertainly as an engineer must obey the laws of mechanics if he wants\nto build a bridge, that will stand, as certainly as a musician must\nobey the laws of harmony if he would write good music, as surely as\na painter must obey the laws of perspective and of color if he\nwishes to illuminate Nature by means of his art.\n\nNo matter what our work in life, whether scientific, artistic, or\ndomestic, it is the same body through which the power is\ntransmitted; and the same freedom in the conductors for impression\nand expression is needed, to whatever end the power may be moved,\nfrom the most simple action to the highest scientific or artistic\nattainment.\n\nThe quality of power differs greatly; the results are widely\ndifferent, but the laws of transmission are the same. So wonderful\nis the unity of life and its laws!\n\nTHE END.","title":"Power Through Repose","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":40764}