not only keep them free by constant practice,
but so train them that they will become perfectly free at a moment's
notice, and ready to respond clearly to whatever the heart and the mind
want to express.

The finer the instrument, the lighter the touch it will vibrate to.
Indeed it must have a light touch to respond clearly with musical
harmonies; any other touch would blur. With a fine piano or a violin,
whether the effect is to be _piano_ or _fortissimo,_ the touch should
be only with the amount of force needed to give a clear vibration, and
the ease with which a fortissimo effect is thus produced is
astonishing. It is only those with the most delicate touch who can
produce from a fine piano grand and powerful harmonies without a blur.

The response in a human instrument to a really light touch is far more
wonderful than that from any instrument made by man; and bodily effort
blurs just as much more in proportion. The muscles are all so
exquisitely balanced in their power for co-ordinate movement, that a
muscle pulling one way is almost entirely freed from effort by the
equalizing power of the antagonizing muscle; and at some rare moments
when we have really found the equilibrium and can keep it, we seem to
do no more than _think_ a movement or a tone or a combination of words,
and they come with so slight a physical exertion that it seems like no
effort at all.

So far are we from our possibilities in this lightness of touch in the
use of our bodies, that it is impossible now for most of us to touch as
lightly as would, after training, bring the most powerful response. One
of the best laws for artistic practice is, "Every day less effort,
every day more power." As the art of acting is the only art where the
whole body is used with no subordinate instrument, let us look at that
with regard to the best results to be obtained by means of relief from
superfluous tension. The effects of unnecessary effort are strongly
felt in the exhaustion which follows the interpretation of a very
exciting role. It is a law without exception, that if I absorb an
emotion and allow my own nerves to be shaken by it, I fail to give it
in all its expressive power to the audience; and not only do I fall far
short in my artistic interpretation, but because of that very failure,
come off the stage with just so much nervous force wasted. Certain as
this law is, and infallible as are its effects, it is not only
generally disbelieved, but it is