that seems most truly artistic. What a wonderful training is
that which might,--which ought to be given an actor to help him rise to
the highest possibility of his art!

A free body, exquisitely responsive to every command of the mind, is
absolutely necessary; therefore there should be a perfect physical
training. A quick and keen perception to appreciate noble thoughts,
holding each idea distinctly, and knowing the relations of each idea to
the others, must certainly be cultivated; for in acting, every idea,
every word, should come clearly, each taking its own place in the
thought expressed.

Broad human sympathies, the imaginative power of identifying himself
with all phases of human nature, if he has an ideal in his profession
above the average, an actor cannot lack. This last is quite impossible
without broad human charity; for "to observe truly you must sympathize
with those you observe, and to sympathize with them you must love them,
and to love them you must forget yourself." And all these
requisites--the physical state, the understanding, and the large
heart--seem to centre in the expression of a well-trained voice,--a
voice in which there is the minimum of body and the maximum of soul.

By training, I always mean a training into Nature. As I have said
before, if art is Nature illuminated, we must find Nature before we can
reach art. The trouble is that in acting, more than in any other art,
the distinction between what is artistic and what is artificial is
neither clearly understood nor appreciated; yet so marked is the
difference when once we see it, that the artificial may well be called
the hell of art, as art itself is heavenly.

Sincerity and simplicity are the foundations of art. A feigning of
either is often necessary to the artificial, but many times impossible.
Although the external effect of this natural training is a great saving
of nervous force in acting, the height of its power cannot be reached
except through a simple aim, from the very heart, toward sincere
artistic expression.

So much for acting. It is a magnificent study, and should be more truly
wholesome in its effects than any other art, because it deals with the
entire body. But, alas I it seems now the most thoroughly morbid and
unwholesome.

All that has been said of acting will apply also to singing, especially
to dramatic singing and study for opera; only with singing even more
care should be taken. No singer realizes the neces