Of course having once found the body’s natural freedom, the variety of motions is as great as the variety of musical sounds and combinations possible to an instrument which will respond to every tone in the musical scale.  It is in opening the way for this natural motion that the exquisite possibilities in motion purely artistic dawn upon us with ever-increasing light.  And as in music it is the sonata, the waltz, or the nocturne we must feel, not the mechanical process of our own performance,—­so in moving, it is the beautiful, natural harmonies of the muscles, from the big rhythms to all the smaller ones, that we must feel and make others feel, and not the mere mechanical grace of our bodies; and we can move a sonata from the first to the last, changing the time and holding the theme so that the soul will be touched through the eye, as it is through the ear now in music.  But, according to the present state of the human body, more than one generation will pass before we reach, or know the beginning of, the highest artistic power of motion.  If art is Nature illuminated, one must have some slight appreciation and experience. of Nature before attempting her illumination.

The set of motions mentioned can be only very inadequately described in print.  But although they are graceful, because they are natural, the first idea in practising them is that they are a means to an end, not an end in themselves.  For in the big and little rhythms and the springing motions, in practising them over and over again we are establishing the habit of natural motion, and will carry it more and more into everything we do.

If the work of the brain in muscular exercise were reduced to its minimum, the consequent benefit from all exercise would greatly increase.

A new movement can be learned with facility in proportion to the power for dropping at the time all impressions of previous movements.  In training to take every motion easily, after a time the brain-work is relieved, for we move with ease,—­that is, with a natural co-ordination of muscles, automatically,—­in every known motion; and we lessen very greatly the mental strain, in learning a new movement, by gaining the power to relax entirely at first, and then, out of a free body, choose the muscles needed, and so avoid the nervous strain of useless muscular experiment.

So far as the mere muscular movement goes, the sensation is that of being well oiled.  As for instance, in a natural walk, where the swinging muscles and the standing muscles act and rest in alternate rhythmic action, the chest is held high, the side muscles free to move in, harmony with the legs, and all the spring in the body brought into play through inclining slightly forward and pushing with the ball of the back foot, the arms swinging naturally without tension.  Walking with a free body is often one of the best forms of rest, and in the varying forms of motion arranged for practice we are enabled to realize, that “perfect harmony of action in the entire man invigorates every part.”