to pieces entirely. Rather than move easily forward,
and for fear they might tumble to pieces, they shake
their shoulders and hips from side to side, hold their
arms perfectly rigid from the shoulders down, and
instead of the easy, natural swing that the motion
of walking would give the arms, they go forward and
back with no regularity, but are in a chronic state
of jerk. The very force used in holding an arm
as stiff as the ordinary woman holds it, would be
enough to give her an extra mile in every five-mile
walk. Then again, the muscles of the throat must
help, and more than anywhere else is force unnecessarily
expended in the waist muscles. They can be very
soon felt, pushing with all their might—and
it is not a small might—officiously trying
to assist in the action of the legs; whereas if they
would only let go, mind their own business, and let
the legs swing easily as if from the shoulders, they
might reflect the rhythmic motion, and gain in a true
freedom and power. Of course all this waste of
force comes from nervous strain and is nervous strain,
and a long walk in the open air, when so much of the
new life gained is wrongly expended, does not begin
to do the good work that might be accomplished.
To walk with your muscles and not use superfluous
nervous force is the first thing to be learned, and
after or at the same time to direct your muscles as
Nature meant they should be directed,—indeed
we might almost say to let Nature direct them herself,
without our interference. Hurry with your muscles
and not with your nerves. This tells especially
in hurrying for a train, where the nervous anxiety
in the fear of losing it wakes all possible unnecessary
tension and often impedes the motion instead of assisting
it. The same law applies here that was mentioned
before with regard to the carriage,—only
instead of being quiet and letting the carriage take
you, be quiet and let your walking machine do its
work. So in all hurrying, and the warning can
hardly be given too many times, we must use our nerves
only as transmitters—calm, well-balanced
transmitters—that our muscles may be more
efficient and more able servants.
The same mistakes of unnecessary tension will be found in running, and, indeed, in all bodily motion, where the machine is not trained to do its work with only the nerves and muscles needed for the purpose. We shall have opportunity to consider these motions in a new light when we come to the directions for gaining a power of natural motion; now we are dealing only with mistakes.
VIII.
NERVOUS STRAIN IN PAIN AND SICKNESS