cannot remove it entirely until we learn the normal motion of our muscles, still after an hour’s practice and the consequent gain in extreme relaxation, it will be impossible to attack our work with the same amount of unnecessary force, at least for a time; and every day the time in which we are able to work, or talk, or move with less tension will increase, and so our bad habits be gradually changed, if not to good, to better ones.  So the true equilibrium comes gradually more and more into every action of our lives, and we feel more and more the wholesome harmony of a rhythmic life.  We gradually swing into rhythm with Nature through a child-like obedience to her laws.

Of one thing I must warn all nervous people who mean to try the relief to be gained from relaxation.  The first effects will often be exceedingly unpleasant.  The same results are apt to follow that come from the reaction after extreme excitement,—­all the way from nervous nausea and giddiness to absolute fainting.  This, as must be clearly seen, is a natural result from the relaxation that comes after years of habitual tension.  The nerves have been held in a chronic state of excitement over something or nothing; and, of course, when their owner for the first time lets go, they begin to feel their real state, and the result of habitual strain must be unpleasant.  The greater the nervous strain at the beginning, the more slowly the pupil should advance, practising in some cases only five minutes a day.

And with regard to those people who “live on their nerves,” not a few, indeed very many, are so far out of the normal way of living that they detest relaxation.  A hearty hatred of the relaxing motions is often met, and even when the mind is convinced of the truth of the theory, it is only with difficulty that such people can persuade themselves or be persuaded by others to work steadily at the practice until the desired result is gained.

“It makes me ten times more nervous than I was before.”

“Oh, no, it does not; it only makes you realize your nervousness ten times more.”

“Well, then, I do not care to realize my nervousness, it is very disagreeable.”

“But, unfortunately, if you do not realize it now and relax into Nature’s ways, she will knock you hard against one of her stone walls, and you will rebound with a more unpleasant realization of nervousness than is possible now.”

The locomotive engine only utilizes nineteen per cent of the amount of fuel it burns, and inventors are hard at work in all directions to make an engine that will burn only the fuel needed to run it.  Here is a much more valuable machine—­the human engine—­burning perhaps eighty-one per cent more than is needed to accomplish its ends, not through the mistake of its Divine Maker, but through the stupid, short-sighted thoughtlessness of the engineer.

Is not the economy of our vital forces of much greater importance than mechanical or business economy?