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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..32457be --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53040 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53040) diff --git a/old/53040-0.txt b/old/53040-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ebbb379..0000000 --- a/old/53040-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6551 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Art of Living, by Robert Grant - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Art of Living - -Author: Robert Grant - -Release Date: September 12, 2016 [EBook #53040] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF LIVING *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - -The Art of Living - - - - - The Art of - Living - - BY - _Robert Grant_ - - [Illustration] - - New York - _Charles Scribner’s Sons_ - MDCCCXCIX - - _Copyright, 1895 and 1899, by Charles Scribner’s Sons_ - - - - -_Contents_ - - - ¶ _Income_ - - Part I 1 - - Part II 24 - - ¶ The _Dwelling_ - - Part I 33 - - Part II 53 - - ¶ _House-Furnishing_ and the _Commissariat_ - - Part I 71 - - Part II 85 - - ¶ _Education_ - - Part I 100 - - Part II 118 - - ¶ _Occupation_ - - Part I 129 - - Part II 144 - - ¶ The _Use of Time_ - - Part I 162 - - Part II 181 - - ¶ The _Summer Problem_ - - Part I 203 - - Part II 218 - - ¶ The _Case of Man_ - - Part I 230 - - Part II 250 - - ¶ The _Case of Woman_ - - Part I 261 - - Part II 278 - - ¶ The _Conduct of Life_ - - Part I 290 - - Part II 309 - - - - -_Income._ - -I. - - -Rogers, the book-keeper for the past twenty-two years of my friend -Patterson, the banker, told me the other day that he had reared a -family of two boys and three girls on his annual salary of two thousand -two hundred dollars; that he had put one of the boys through college, -one through the School of Mines, brought up one of the girls to be a -librarian, given one a coming-out party and a trousseau, and that the -remaining daughter, a home body, was likely to be the domestic sunshine -of his own and his wife’s old age. All this on two thousand two hundred -dollars a year. - -Rogers told me with perfect modesty, with just a tremor of -self-satisfaction in his tone, as though, all things considered, -he felt that he had managed creditably, yet not in the least -suggesting that he regarded his performance as out of the common -run of happy household annals. He is a neat-looking, respectable, -quiet, conservative little man, rising fifty, who, while in the bank, -invariably wears a nankeen jacket all the year round, a narrow black -necktie in winter, and a narrow yellow and red pongee wash tie in -summer, and whose watch is no less invariably right to a second. As I -often drop in to see Patterson, his employer, I depend upon it to keep -mine straight, and it was while I was setting my chronometer the other -day that he made me the foregoing confidence. - -Frankly, I felt as though I had been struck with a club. It happened -to be the first of the month. Every visit of the postman had brought -me a fresh batch of bills, each one of which was a little larger than -I had expected. I was correspondingly depressed and remorseful, and -had been asking myself from time to time during the day why it need -cost so much to live. Yet here was a man who was able to give his -daughter a coming-out party and a trousseau on two thousand two hundred -dollars a year. I opened my mouth twice to ask him how in the name of -thrift he had managed to do it, but somehow the discrepancy between -his expenditures and mine seemed such a gulf that I was tongue-tied. -“I suppose,” he added modestly, “that I have been very fortunate in my -little family. It must indeed be sharper than a serpent’s tooth to have -a thankless child.” Gratitude too! Gratitude and Shakespeare on two -thousand two hundred dollars a year. I went my way without a word. - -There are various ways of treating remorse. Some take a Turkish bath or -a pill. Others, while the day lasts, trample it under foot, and shut it -out at night with the bed-clothes. Neither course has ever seemed to -me exactly satisfactory or manly. Consequently I am apt to entertain -my self-reproach and reason with it, and when one begins to wonder why -it costs so much to live, he finds himself grappling with the entire -problem of civilization, and presently his hydra has a hundred heads. -The first of the month is apt to be a sorry day for my wife as well -as for me, and I hastened on my return home to tell her, with just a -shadow of reproach in my tone, what Mr. Rogers had confided to me. -Indeed I saw fit to ask, “Why can’t we do the same?” - -“We could,” said Barbara. - -“Then why don’t we?” - -“Because you wouldn’t.” - -I had been reflecting in the brief interval between my wife’s first -and second replies that, in the happy event of our imitating Rogers’s -example from this time forth and forever more, I should be able to lay -up over five thousand dollars a year, and that five thousand dollars -a year saved for ten years would be fifty thousand dollars--a very -neat little financial nest egg. But Barbara’s second reply upset my -calculation utterly, and threw the responsibility of failure on me into -the bargain. - -“Mr. Rogers is the salt of the earth, a highly respectable man and, if -I am not mistaken, the deacon of a church,” I remarked not altogether -relevantly. “Why should we spend four times as many thousand dollars a -year as he?” - -“I wonder,” answered my wife, “if you really do appreciate how your -friend Mr. Rogers lives. I am quite aware that you are talking now for -effect--talking through your hat as the children say--because it’s -the first of the month and you’re annoyed that the bills are worse -than ever, and I understand that you don’t for one moment seriously -entertain the hope that our establishment can be conducted on the same -basis as his. But I should just like to explain to you for once how -people who have only twenty-two hundred dollars a year and are the -salt of the earth do live, if only to convince you that the sooner we -stop comparing ourselves with them the better. I say ‘we’ because in -my moments of depression over the household expenses I catch myself -doing the same thing. Our butcher’s bill for this month is huge, and -when you came in I was in the throes of despair over a letter in the -newspaper from a woman who contends that a good housekeeper in modest -circumstances can provide an excellent dinner for her family of six -persons, including soup, fish, an entrée, meat, pudding, dessert, and -coffee, for fifty-three cents. And she gives the dinner, which at -first sight takes one’s breath away. But after you prune it of celery, -parsley, salted peanuts, raisins, red cabbage, salad, and cheese, all -there is left is bean-soup, cod sounds, fried liver, hot gingerbread, -and apples.” - -“I should dine down town, if you set such repasts before me,” I -answered. - -“Yes,” said Barbara. “And there is a very good point of departure for -illustrating the domestic economies of the Rogers family. Mr. Rogers -does dine down town. Not to avoid the fried liver and cod sounds, for -probably he is partial to them, but because it is cheaper. When you -take what you call your luncheon, and which is apt to include as much -as he eats in the entire course of the day, Mr. Rogers dines; dines -at a restaurant where he can get a modest meal for from fifteen to -twenty-five cents. Sometimes it is pea-soup and a piece of squash-pie. -The next day perhaps a mutton-stew and a slice of watermelon, or boiled -beef and an éclair. Mrs. Rogers and the children have a pick-up dinner -at home, which lasts them very well until night, when they and Rogers -sit down to browned-hash mutton and a head of lettuce, or honey-comb -tripe and corn-cake, and apple-sauce to wind up with.” - -“That isn’t so very bad.” - -“Why, they have a splendid time. They can abuse their social -acquaintance and discuss family secrets without fear of being overheard -by the servants because they don’t keep any servants to speak of. -Probably they keep one girl. Or perhaps Mr. Rogers had a spinster -sister who helped with the work for her board. Or it may be Mrs. Rogers -kept one while the children were little; but after the daughters were -old enough to do it themselves, they preferred not to keep anybody. -They live extremely happily, but the children have to double up, for -in their small house it is necessary to sleep two in a room if not a -bed. The girls make most of their dresses, and the boys never dream -of buying anything but ready-made clothing. By living in the suburbs -they let one establishment serve for all seasons, unless it be for -the two weeks when Rogers gets his vacation. Then, if nobody has been -ill during the year, the family purse may stand the drain of a stay -at the humblest watering-place in their vicinity, or a visit to the -farm-house of some relative in the country. An engagement with the -dentist is a serious disaster, and the plumber is kept at a respectable -distance. The children go to the public schools, and the only club or -organization to which Mr. Rogers belongs is a benefit association, -which pays him so much a week if he is ill, and would present his -family with a few hundred dollars if he were to die. The son who went -through college must have got a scholarship or taken pupils. The girl -who married undoubtedly made the greater portion of her trousseau with -her own needle; and as to the coming-out party, some of the effects of -splendor and all the delights of social intercourse can be produced -by laying a white drugget on the parlor carpet, the judicious use of -half a dozen lemons and a mould of ice-cream with angel-cake, and by -imposing on the good nature of a friend who can play the piano for -dancing. There, my dear, if you are willing to live like that, we -should be able to get along on from twenty-two to twenty-five hundred -dollars quite nicely.” - -My wife was perfectly correct in her declaration that I did not -seriously entertain the hope of being able to imitate Mr. Rogers, -worthy citizen and upright man as I believe him to be. I certainly was -in some measure talking through my hat. This was not the first time -I had brought home a Rogers to confront her. She is used to them and -aware that they are chiefly bogies. I, as she knows, and indeed both -of us, are never in quite a normal condition on the first day of the -month, and are liable, sometimes the one of us and sometimes the other, -to indulge in vagaries and resolutions which by the tenth, when the -bills are paid, seem almost uncalled for or impracticable. One thing -is certain, that if a man earns only twenty-two hundred dollars a -year, and is an honest man withal, he has to live on it, even though -he dines when others take luncheon, and is forced to avoid the dentist -and the plumber. But a much more serious problem confronts the man who -earns four times as much as Rogers, more serious because it involves -an alternative. Rogers could not very well live on less if he tried, -without feeling the stress of poverty. He has lived at hard pan, so to -speak. But I could. Could if I would, as my wife has demonstrated. I -am perfectly right, as she would agree, in being unwilling to try the -experiment; and yet the consciousness that we spend a very large sum of -money every year, as compared with Rogers and others like him, remains -with us even after the bills are paid and we have exchanged remorse for -contemplation. - -The moralist, who properly is always with us, would here insinuate, -perhaps, that Rogers is happier than I. But I take issue with him -promptly and deny the impeachment. Rogers may be happier than his -employer Patterson, because Patterson, though the possessor of a -steam-yacht, has a son who has just been through the Keeley cure and a -daughter who is living apart from her husband. But there are no such -flies in my pot of ointment. I deny the superior happiness of Rogers -in entire consciousness of the moral beauty of his home. I recognize -him to be an industrious, self-sacrificing, kind-hearted, sagacious -husband and father, and I admit that the pen-picture which the moralist -could draw of him sitting by the evening lamp in his well-worn -dressing gown, with his well-darned feet adorned by carpet-slippers of -filial manufacture supported by the table or a chair, would be justly -entitled to kindle emotions of respect and admiration. But why, after -all, should Rogers, ensconced in the family sitting-room with the -cat on the hearth, a canary twittering in a cage and scattering seed -in one corner, a sewing-machine in the other, and surrounded by all -the comforts of home, consisting prominently of a peach-blow vase, a -Japanese sun umbrella and engravings of George Washington and Horace -Greeley, be regarded as happier than I in my modern drawing-room in -evening dress? What is there moral in the simplicity of his frayed -and somewhat ugly establishment except the spirit of contentment and -the gentle feelings which sanctify it? Assuming that these are not -lacking in my home, and I believe they are not, I see no reason for -accepting the conclusion of the moralist. There is a beauty of living -which the man with a small income is not apt to compass under present -social conditions, the Declaration of Independence to the contrary -notwithstanding. The doctrine so widely and vehemently promulgated in -America that a Spartan inelegance of life is the duty of a leading -citizen, seems to be dying from inanition; and the descendants of -favorite sons who once triumphed by preaching and practising it are -now outvying those whom they were taught to stigmatize as the effete -civilizations of Europe, in their devotion to creature comforts. - -It seems to me true that in our day and generation the desire to live -wisely here has eclipsed the desire to live safely hereafter. Moreover, -to enjoy the earth and the fulness thereof, if it be legitimately -within one’s reach, has come to be recognized all the world over, with -a special point of view for each nationality, as a cardinal principle -of living wisely. We have been the last to recognize it here for the -reason that a contrary theory of life was for several generations -regarded as one of the bulwarks of our Constitution. Never was the -sympathy for the poor man greater than it is at present. Never was -there warmer interest in his condition. The social atmosphere is rife -with theories and schemes for his emancipation, and the best brains of -civilization are at work in his behalf. But no one wishes to be like -him. Canting churchmen still gain some credence by the assertion that -indigence here will prove a saving grace in the world to come; but the -American people, quick, when it recognizes that it has been fooled, to -discard even a once sacred conviction, smiles to-day at the assumption -that the owner of a log cabin is more inherently virtuous than the -owner of a steam-yacht. Indeed the present signal vice of democracy -seems to be the fury to grow rich, in the mad struggle to accomplish -which character and happiness are too often sacrificed. But it may be -safely said that, granting an equal amount of virtue to Rogers and -to me, and that each pays his bills promptly, I am a more enviable -individual in the public eye. - -In fact the pressing problem which confronts the civilized world -to-day is the choice of what to have, for so many things have become -necessaries of existence which were either done without or undiscovered -in the days of our grandmothers, that only the really opulent can have -everything. We sometimes hear it said that this or that person has too -much for his own good. The saying is familiar, and doubtless it is true -that luxury unappreciated and abused will cause degeneration; but the -complaint seems to me to be a Sunday-school consoler for those who have -too little rather than a sound argument against great possessions. -Granting that this or that person referred to had the moral fibre of -Rogers or of me, and were altogether an unexceptionable character, how -could he have too much for his own good? Is the best any too good for -any one of us? - -The sad part of it is, however, that even those of us who have four -times, or thereabouts, the income of Rogers, are obliged to pick -and choose and cannot have everything. Then is the opportunity for -wisdom to step in and make her abode with us, if she only will. The -perplexity, the distress, and too often the downfall of those who -would fain live wisely, are largely the direct results of foolish or -unintelligent selection on their part. And conversely, is not the -secret of happy modern living, the art of knowing what to have when one -cannot have everything there is? - -I coupled just now, in allusion to Rogers and myself, virtue and -punctuality in the payment of bills, as though they were not altogether -homogeneous. I did so designedly, not because I question that prompt -payment is in the abstract a leading virtue, nor because I doubt -that it has been absolutely imperative for Rogers, and one of the -secrets of his happiness; but because I am not entirely sure whether, -after ten years of prompt payment on the first of every month on my -part, I have not been made the sorry victim of my own righteousness, -self-righteousness I might say, for I have plumed myself on it when -comparing myself with the ungodly. Although virtuous action looks for -no reward, the man who pays his bills as soon as they are presented has -the right to expect that he will not be obliged to pay anything extra -for his honesty. He may not hope for a discount, but he does hope and -believe--at least for a time--that beefsteak paid for within thirty -days of purchase will not be taxed with the delinquencies of those who -pay tardily or not at all. Slowly but sadly I and my wife have come to -the conclusion that the butchers, bakers, and candlestick-makers of -this great Republic who provide for the tolerably well-to-do make up -their losses by assessing virtue. It is a melancholy conclusion for one -who has been taught to believe that punctual payment is the first great -cardinal principle of wise living, and it leaves one in rather a wobbly -state of mind, not as regards the rank of the virtue in question, but -as regards the desirability of strictly living up to it in practice. I -have heard stated with authority that the leading butchers, grocers, -stable-keepers, drygoods dealers, dress-makers, florists, and plumbers -of our great cities divide the customers on their books into sheep -and goats, so to speak; and the more prompt and willing a sheep, the -deeper do they plunge the knife. Let one establish a reputation for -prompt payment and make a purchase on the twenty-fifth of the month, he -will receive on the first of the following a bill, on the twentieth, -if this be not paid, a bill for “account rendered,” on the first of -the next month a bill for “account rendered, please remit,” and on the -tenth a visit from a collector. On the other hand I have known people -who seem to live on the fat of the land, and to keep the tradesfolk in -obsequious awe of them by force of letting their bills run indefinitely. - -Abroad, as many of us know, the status of the matter is very different. -There interest is figured in advance, and those who pay promptly get -a handsome discount on the face of their bills. While this custom -may seem to encourage debt, it is at least a mutual arrangement, and -seems to have proved satisfactory, to judge from the fact that the -fashionable tailors and dress-makers of London and Paris are apt to -demur or shrug their shoulders at immediate payment, and to be rather -embarrassingly grateful if their accounts are settled by the end of a -year. No one would wish to change the national inclination of upright -people on this side of the water to pay on the spot, but the master and -mistress of an establishment may well consider whether the fashionable -tradesmen ought to oblige them to bear the entire penalty of being -sheep instead of goats. With this qualification, which is set forth -rather as a caveat than a doctrine, the prompt payment of one’s bills -seems to be strictly co-ordinate with virtue, and may be properly -described as the corner-stone of wise modern living. - -There are so many things which one has to have nowadays in order to -be comfortable that it seems almost improvident to inquire how much -one ought to save before facing the question of what one can possibly -do without. Here the people who are said to have too much for their -own good have an advantage over the rest of us. The future of their -children is secure. If they dread death it is not because they fear -to leave their wives and children unprovided for. Many of them go on -saving, just the same, and talk poor if a railroad lowers a dividend, -or there is not a ready market for their real estate at an exalted -profit. Are there more irritating men or women in the world than the -over-conservative persons of large means who are perpetually harping on -saving, and worrying lest they may not be able to put by for a rainy -day, as they call it, twenty-five per cent. or more of their annual -income? The capitalist, careworn by solicitude of this sort, is the one -fool in creation who is not entitled to some morsel of pity. - -How much ought the rest of us to save? I know a man--now you do not -know him, and there is no use in racking your brains to discover who he -is, which seems to be a principal motive for reading books nowadays, -as though we writers had a cabinet photograph in our mind’s eye -whenever we took a pen in hand. I know a man who divides his income -into parts. “All Gaul is divided into three parts,” you will remember -we read in the classics. Well, my friend, whom we will call Julius -Cæsar for convenience and mystification, divides his income, on the -first of January, into a certain number of parts or portions. He and -his wife have a very absorbing and earnest pow-wow over it annually. -They take the matter very seriously, and burn the midnight oil in the -sober endeavor to map and figure out in advance a wise and unselfish -exhibit. So much and no more for rent, so much for servants, so much -for household supplies, so much for clothes, so much for amusements, -so much for charity, so much to meet unlooked-for contingencies, and -so much for investment. By the time the exhibit is finished it is -mathematically and ethically irreproachable, and, what is more, Julius -Cæsar and his wife live up to it so faithfully that they are sure to -have some eight or ten dollars to the good on the morning of December -thirty-first, which they commonly expend in a pair of canvas-back ducks -and a bottle of champagne, for which they pay cash, in reward for their -own virtue and to enable them at the stroke of midnight to submit to -their own consciences a trial balance accurate to a cent. - -Now it should be stated that Mr. and Mrs. Julius Cæsar are not very -busy people in other respects, and that their annual income, which -is fifteen thousand dollars, and chiefly rent from improved real -estate in the hands of a trustee, flows on as regularly and surely as -a river. Wherefore it might perhaps be argued, if one were disposed -to be sardonic, that this arithmetical system of life under the -circumstances savors of a fad, and that Julius and his wife take -themselves and their occupation a trifle too seriously, especially as -they have both been known to inform, solemnly and augustly, more than -one acquaintance who was struggling for a living, that it is every -one’s duty to lay up at least one-tenth of his income and give at least -another tenth in charity. And yet, when one has ceased to smile at the -antics of this pair, the consciousness remains that they are right in -their practice of foresight and arithmetical apportioning, and that -one who would live wisely should, if possible, decide in advance how -much he intends to give to the poor or put into the bank. Otherwise he -is morally, or rather immorally, certain to spend everything, and to -suffer disagreeable qualms instead of enjoying canvas-back ducks and a -bottle of champagne on December thirty-first. - -As to what that much or little to be given and to be saved shall be, -there is more room for discussion. Julius Cæsar and his wife have -declared in favor of a tenth for each, which in their case means -fifteen hundred dollars given, and fifteen hundred dollars saved, -which leaves them a net income of twelve thousand dollars to spend, -and they have no children. I am inclined to think that if every man -with ten thousand dollars a year and a family were to give away three -hundred dollars, and prudently invest seven hundred dollars, charity -would not suffer so long as at present, and would be no less kind. -Unquestionably those of us who come out on December thirty-first just -even, or eight or nine dollars behind instead of ahead, and would -have been able to spend a thousand or two more, are the ones who find -charity and saving so difficult. Our friends who are said to have too -much for their own good help to found a hospital or send a deserving -youth through college without winking. It costs them merely the trouble -of signing a check. But it behooves those who have only four instead -of forty times as much as Rogers, if they wish to do their share in -relieving the needs of others, to do so promptly and systematically -before the fine edge of the good resolutions formed on the first of -January is dulled by the pressure of a steadily depleted bank account, -and a steadily increasing array of bills. Charity, indeed, is more -difficult for us to practise than saving, for the simplest method of -saving, life insurance, is enforced by the “stand and deliver” argument -of an annual premium. Only he, who before the first crocus thrusts its -gentle head above the winter’s snow has sent his check to the needy, -and who can conscientiously hang upon his office door “Fully insured; -life insurance agents need not apply,” is in a position to face with a -calm mind the fall of the leaf and the December days when conscience, -quickened by the dying year, inquires what we have done for our -neighbor, and how the wife and the little ones would fare if we should -be cut down in the strength of our manhood. - -And yet, too, important as saving is, there are so many things which -we must have for the sake of this same wife and the little ones that -we cannot afford to save too much. Are we to toil and moil all our -days, go without fresh butter and never take six weeks in Europe or -Japan because we wish to make sure that our sons and daughters will -be amply provided for, as the obituary notices put it? Some men with -daughters only have a craze of saving so that this one earthly life -becomes a rasping, worrying ordeal, which is only too apt to find an -end in the coolness of a premature grave. My friend Perkins--here is -another chance, identity seekers, to wonder who Perkins really is--the -father of four girls, is a thin, nervous lawyer, who ought to take a -proper vacation every summer; but he rarely does, and the reason seems -to be that he is saddled by the idea that to bring a girl up in luxury -and leave her with anything less than five thousand dollars a year is -a piece of paternal brutality. It seems to me that a father ought in -the first place to remember that some girls marry. I reminded Perkins -of this one day. “Some don’t,” he answered mournfully. “Marriage does -not run in the female Perkins line. The chances are that two of my -four will never marry. They might be able to get along, if they lived -together and were careful, on seven thousand dollars a year, and I -must leave them that somehow.” “Hoot toot,” said I, “that seems to me -nonsense. Don’t let the spectre of decayed gentlewomen hound you into -dyspepsia or Bright’s disease, but give yourself a chance and trust to -your girls to look out for themselves. There are so many things for -women to do now besides marry or pot jam, that a fond father ought to -let his nervous system recuperate now and then.” - -“I suppose you mean that they might become teachers or physicians or -hospital nurses or typewriters,” said Perkins. “Declined with thanks.” - -“Don’t you think,” I inquired with a little irritation, “that they -would be happier so than in doing nothing on a fixed income, in simply -being mildly cultivated and philanthropic on dividends, in moving to -the sea-side in summer and back again in the autumn, and in dying at -the last of some fashionable ailment?” - -“No, I don’t,” said Perkins. “Do you?” - -Were I to repeat my answer to this inquiry I should be inviting a -discussion on woman, which is not in place at this stage of our -reflections. Let me say, though, that I am still of the opinion that -Perkins ought to give his nervous system a chance and not worry so much -about his daughters. - - - - -_Income._ - -II. - - -Seeing that there are so many things to have and that we cannot have -everything, what are we to choose? I have sometimes, while trudging -along in the sleighing season, noticed that many men, whose income I -believe to be much smaller than mine, were able to ride behind fast -trotters in fur overcoats. The reason upon reflection was obvious to -me. Men of a certain class regard a diamond pin, a fur overcoat, and -a fast horse as the first necessaries of existence after a bed, a -hair-brush and one maid-of-all-work. In other words, they are willing -to live in an inexpensive locality, with no regard to plumbing, -society, or art, to have their food dropped upon the table, and to -let their wives and daughters live with shopping as the one bright -spot in the month’s horizon, if only they, the husbands and fathers, -can satisfy the three-headed ruling ambition in question. The men to -whom I am referring have not the moral or æsthetic tone of Rogers and -myself, and belong to quite a distinct class of society from either of -us. But among the friends of both of us there are people who act on -precisely the same principle. A fine sense of selection ought to govern -the expenditure of income, and the wise man will refrain from buying -a steam-yacht for himself or a diamond crescent for his wife before -he has secured a home with modern conveniences, an efficient staff of -servants, a carefully chosen family physician, a summer home, or an -ample margin wherewith to hire one, the best educational advantages -for his children which the community will afford, and choice social -surroundings. In order to have these comfortably and completely, and -still not to be within sailing distance, so to speak, of a steam-yacht, -one needs to have nowadays--certainly in large cities--an income of -from seven thousand to eleven thousand dollars, according to where one -lives. - -I make this assertion in the face of the fact that our legislators -all over the country annually decree that from four to five thousand -dollars a year is a fat salary in reward for public service, and that -an official with a family who is given twenty-five hundred or three -thousand is to be envied. Envied by whom, pray? By the ploughman, the -horse-car conductor, and the corner grocery man, may be, but not by -the average business or professional man who is doing well. To be -sure, five thousand dollars in a country town _is_ affluence, if the -beneficiary is content to stay there; but in a city the family man -with only that income, provided he is ambitious, can only just live, -and might fairly be described as the cousin german to a mendicant. -And yet there are some worthy citizens still, who doubtless would be -aghast at these statements, and would wish to know how one is to spend -five thousand dollars a year without extravagance. We certainly did -start in this country on a very different basis, and the doctrine of -plain living was written between the lines of the Constitution. We were -practically to do our own work, to be content with pie and doughnuts -as the staple articles of nutrition, to abide in one locality all the -year round, and to eschew color, ornament, and refined recreation. All -this as an improvement over the civilization of Europe and a rebuke to -it. Whatever the ethical value of this theory of existence in moulding -the national character may have been, it has lost its hold to-day, and -we as a nation have fallen into line with the once sneered-at older -civilizations, though we honestly believe that we are giving and going -to give a peculiar redeeming brand to the adopted, venerable customs -which will purge them of dross and bale. - -Take the servant question, for instance. We are perpetually discussing -how we are to do away with the social reproach which keeps native -American women out of domestic service; yet at the same time in -actual practice the demand for servants grows more and more urgent -and wide-spread, and they are consigned still more hopelessly, though -kindly, to the kitchen and servants’ hall in imitation of English -upper-class life. In the days when our Emerson sought to practise the -social equality for which he yearned, by requiring his maids to sit at -his own dinner-table, a domestic establishment was a modest affair of a -cook and a second girl. Now, the people who are said to have too much -for their own good, keep butlers, ladies’ maids, governesses, who like -Mahomet’s coffin hover between the parlor and the kitchen, superfine -laundresses, pages in buttons, and other housekeeping accessories, and -domestic life grows bravely more and more complex. To be sure, too, -I am quite aware that, as society is at present constituted, only a -comparatively small number out of our millions of free-born American -citizens have or are able to earn the seven to eleven thousand dollars -a year requisite for thorough comfort, and that the most interesting -and serious problem which confronts human society to-day is the -annihilation or lessening of the terrible existing inequalities in -estate and welfare. - -This problem, absorbing as it is, can scarcely be solved in our time. -But, whatever the solution, whether by socialism, government control, -or brotherly love, is it not safe to assume that when every one shares -alike, society is not going to be satisfied with humble, paltry, or -ugly conditions as the universal weal? If the new dispensation does -not provide a style and manner of living at least equal in comfort, -luxury, and refinement to that which exists among the well-to-do -to-day, it will be a failure. Humanity will never consent to be shut -off from the best in order to be exempt from the worst. The millennium -must supply not merely bread and butter, a house, a pig, a cow, and -a sewing-machine for every one, but attractive homes, gardens, and -galleries, literature and music, and all the range of æsthetic social -adjuncts which tend to promote healthy bodies, delightful manners, -fine sensibilities, and noble purposes, or it will be no millennium. - -Therefore one who would live wisely and has the present means, though -he may deplore existing misery and seek to relieve it, does not give -away to others all his substance but spends it chiefly on himself and -his family until he has satisfied certain needs. By way of a house -he feels that he requires not merely a frail, unornamental shelter, -but a carefully constructed, well ventilated, cosily and artistically -furnished dwelling, where his family will neither be scrimped for space -nor exposed to discomforts, and where he can entertain his friends -tastefully if not with elegance. All this costs money and involves -large and recurrent outlays for heating, lighting, upholstery, sanitary -appliances, silver, china, and glass. It is not sufficient for him that -his children should be sure of their own father; he is solicitous, -besides, that they should grow up as free as possible from physical -blemishes, and mentally and spiritually sound and attractive. To -promote this he must needs consult or engage from time to time skilled -specialists, dentists, oculists, dancing and drawing masters, private -tutors, and music-teachers. To enable these same sons and daughters -to make the most of themselves, he must, during their early manhood -and womanhood, enable them to pursue professional or other studies, to -travel, and to mingle in cultivated and well-bred society. He must live -in a choice neighborhood that he may surround himself and his family -with refining influences, and accordingly he must pay from twelve -hundred to twenty-five hundred or three thousand dollars a year for -rent, according to the size and desirability of the premises. Unless he -would have his wife and daughters merely household factors and drudges, -he must keep from three to five or six servants, whose wages vary from -four to six or seven dollars a week, and feed them. - -Nor can the athletic, æsthetic, or merely pleasurable needs of a -growing or adolescent household be ignored. He must meet the steady -and relentless drain from each of these sources, or be conscious that -his flesh and blood have not the same advantages and opportunities -which are enjoyed by their contemporaries. He must own a pew, a library -share, a fancy dress costume, and a cemetery lot, and he must always -have loose change on hand for the hotel waiter and the colored railway -porter. The family man in a large city who meets these several demands -to his entire satisfaction will have little of ten thousand dollars -left for the purchase of a trotter, a fur overcoat, and a diamond pin. - -The growing consciousness of the value of these complex demands of our -modern civilization, when intelligently gratified, acts at the present -day as a cogent incentive to make money, not for the mere sake of -accumulation, but to spend. Gross accumulation with scant expenditure -has always been sanctioned here; but to grow rich and yet be lavish has -only within a comparatively recent period among us seemed reconcilable -with religious or national principles. Even yet he who many times a -millionaire still walks unkempt, or merely plain and honest, has not -entirely lost the halo of hero worship. But, though the old man is -permitted to do as he prefers, better things are demanded of his sons -and daughters. Nor can the argument that some of the greatest men in -our history have been nurtured and brought up in cabins and away from -refining influences be soundly used against the advisability of making -the most of income, even though we now and then ask ourselves whether -modern living is producing statesmen of equally firm mould. But we -thrill no longer at mention of a log cabin or rail splitting, and the -very name of hard cider suggests rather unpleasantly the corner grocery -store and the pie-permeated, hair-cloth suited New England parlor. - -Merely because other nations have long been aware that it was wise and -not immoral to try to live comfortably and beautifully our change of -faith is no less absorbing to us. We confidently expect to win fresh -laurels by our originality, intelligence, and unselfishness in this new -old field. Already have we made such strides that our establishments -on this side of the water make up in genuine comfort what they lack -in ancient manorial picturesqueness and ghost-haunted grace. Each one -of us who is in earnest is asking how he is to make the most of what -he has or earns, so as to attain that charm of refined living which -is civilization’s best flower--living which if merely material and -unanimated by intelligence and noble aims is without charm, but which -is made vastly more difficult of realization in case we are without -means or refuse to spend them adequately. - - - - -The _Dwelling_. - -I. - - -Mr. and Mrs. Julius Cæsar, who, as you may remember, divide their -income into parts with mathematical precision, were not as well off -in this world’s goods at the time of their marriage as they are now. -Neither Mr. Cæsar’s father nor Mrs. Cæsar’s grandmother was then -dead, and consequently the newly wedded pair, though set up by their -respective families with a comfortable income, felt that it was -incumbent upon them to practise strict economy. Then it was that Julius -conceived what seemed to them both the happy idea of buying a house -dirt cheap in a neighborhood which was not yet improved, and improving -the neighborhood, instead of paying an exorbitant price for a residence -in a street which was already all it should be. - -“Why,” said Julius, “shouldn’t we buy one of those new houses in Sunset -Terrace? They look very attractive, and if we can only induce two -or three congenial couples to join forces with us we shall have the -nucleus of a delightful colony.” - -“Besides, everything will be nice and new,” said Mrs. Julius, or Dolly -Cæsar, as her friends know her. “No cockroaches, no mice, no moths, no -family skeletons to torment us. Julius, you are a genius. We can just -as well set the fashion as follow meekly in fashion’s wake.” - -So said, so done. Julius Cæsar bent his intellect upon the matter and -soon found three congenial couples who were willing to join forces with -him. Before another twelve months had passed, four baby-wagons--one of -them double-seated--were to be seen on four sunny grass-plots in front -of four attractive, artistic-looking villas on Sunset Terrace. Where -lately sterility, mortar, and weeds had held carnival, there was now an -air of tasteful gentility. Thanks to the example of Dolly Cæsar, who -had an eye and an instinct for such matters, the four brass door-plates -shone like the sun, the paint was spick and span, the four gravel -paths were in apple-pie order, the four grass-plots were emerald from -timely use of a revolving lawn sprinkler, and the four nurse-maids, who -watched like dragons over the four baby-wagons, were neat-looking and -comely. No wonder that by the end of the second year there was not a -vacant house in the street, and that everybody who wished to live in -a fashionable locality was eager for a chance to enter Sunset Terrace. -No wonder, too, that Mr. and Mrs. Julius Cæsar were able, by the end -of the fourth year, to emerge from Sunset Terrace with a profit on the -sale of their villa which made it rent free for the entire period, and -left them with a neat little surplus to boot, and to settle down with -calm minds on really fashionable Belport Avenue, in the stately mansion -devised to them by Mrs. Cæsar’s grandmother. - -Now, it must be borne in mind that a Mr. and Mrs. Julius Cæsar -can sometimes do that which a Mr. and Mrs. George J. Spriggs find -difficulty in accomplishing. Spriggs, at the time of his marriage to -Miss Florence Green, the daughter of ex-Assistant Postmaster-General -Homer W. Green, conceived the happy idea of setting up his household -gods in Locust Road, which lies about as far from Belport Avenue in -one direction as Sunset Terrace in the other. Both are semi-suburban. -It also occurred to him at the outset to join forces with three or -four congenial couples, but at the last moment the engagement of one -of the couples in question was broken, and the other three decided to -live somewhere else. To have changed his mind then would have involved -the sacrifice of one hundred dollars paid to bind the bargain to the -landowner. So it seemed best to them on the whole to move in, as they -had to live somewhere. - -“It’s just a little bit dreary, isn’t it?” said Florence Spriggs, -pathetically, as she looked out of her bow window at the newly finished -street which was not finished, and at the grass-plot where there was no -grass. “But I sha’n’t be a bit lonely with you, George.” - -“I wonder if the color of this house has been changed,” said Spriggs, -presently, as he glanced up at the façade and from that to the other -houses in the block, each of which was vacant. He and Florence had gone -out after dinner to take a stroll and survey the neighborhood which -they hoped to improve. - -“Of course it hasn’t! How could it be?” said Florence. - -“Somehow it looks a more staring shade of yellow than it did the first -time we saw it. And I don’t fancy altogether the filigree work on the -door, or that Egyptian renaissance scroll set into the eastern wall, do -you, dearest? However, we’re in now and can’t get out, for the title -has passed. I wonder who will buy the other houses?” - -They were soon to know. They were alone all winter, but in the -early spring a family moved in on either side of them. The houses -in Locust Road, like those in Sunset Terrace, were of the villa -order, with grass-plots, which were almost lawns, appurtenant. Though -less pleasing than those which had taken the more discerning eye of -Mrs. Julius Cæsar, they were nevertheless comparatively inoffensive -and sufficiently tasteful. Neighbor number one proved to be of an -enterprising and imaginative turn. He changed the color of his villa -from staring yellow to startling crushed strawberry, supplemented his -Egyptian renaissance scroll and filigree with inlaid jewel and frost -work, stationed a cast-iron stag in one corner of the grass-plot and a -cast-iron Diana with a bow in another, and then rested on his laurels. -Neighbor number two was shiftless and untidy. His grass-plot did not -thrive, and the autumn leaves choked his gravel path. His windows were -never washed, his blinds hung askew, and his one maid-of-all-work -preferred the lawn to the laundry as a drying-room. His wife sunned -herself in a wrapper, and he himself in his shirt sleeves. A big -mongrel dog drooled perpetually on the piazza or tracked it with his -muddy feet, and even the baby-wagon wore the appearance of dilapidation -and halted because of a broken spring. - -The Spriggses tried to be lenient and even genial with both these -neighbors, but somehow the attempt was not successful. Neighbor number -one became huffy because Spriggs took no notice of his advice that -he embellish his grass-plot with a stone mastiff or an umbrella and -cherub fountain, and neighbor number two took offence because Spriggs -complained that the ventilator on his chimney kept Mrs. Spriggs awake -by squeaking. Mrs. Spriggs did her best to set them both a good example -by having everything as tasteful on the one hand and as tidy on the -other as it should be. In the hope of improving them she even dropped -suggestive hints as to how people ought to live, but the hints were not -taken. What was worse none of the other houses were taken. As Spriggs -pathetically expressed it, the iron stag on the one side and the weekly -wash on the other kept purchasers at bay. He tried to buoy himself up -by believing that a glut in the real estate market was the cause why -the remaining villas in Locust Road hung fire, but this consolation was -taken away from him the following spring when an active buying movement -all along the line still left them without other neighbors. The -unoccupied villas had begun to wear an air of dilapidation, in spite -of their Egyptian renaissance scrolls and the presence of a cast-iron -Diana. - -To crown the situation the baby of neighbor number two caught -diphtheria from being left in its halting wagon by the maid-of-all-work -too near the cesspool on the lawn, and was kissed by the Spriggs baby -before the fact was discovered. If there is one thing more irritating -to the maternal mind than another, it is to have dear baby catch -something from the child of people whom you reprobate. One feels that -the original horrors of the disease are sure to be enhanced through -such a medium. When the only child of the Julius Cæsars died of the -same disease, contracted from a germ inhaled on Belport Avenue, the -parents felt that only destiny was to blame. On the other hand, though -the Spriggs baby recovered, Mrs. Spriggs never quite forgave herself -for what had happened. Before the next autumn Spriggs parted with -his estate on Locust Road for so much less than he had paid for it -that he felt obliged to accept the hospitality of his wife’s father, -ex-Assistant Postmaster-General Green, during the succeeding winter. - -The moral of this double-jointed tale is twofold; firstly that the -young householder cannot always count upon improving the neighborhood -in which he sets up his goods and chattels after marriage, and -secondly, that, in case the neighborhood fails to improve, a tenancy -for a year or two is a less serious burden than absolute ownership. -It is extremely pleasant, to be sure, to be able to declare that one -has paid for one’s house, and I am aware that the consciousness of -unencumbered ownership in the roof over one’s head affords one of -the most affecting and effective opportunities for oratory which the -free-born citizen can desire. The hand of many a husband and father -has been stayed from the wine-cup or the gaming-table by the pathetic -thought that he owned his house. As a rule, too, it is cheaper to pay -the interest on a mortgage than to pay rent, and if one is perfectly -sure of being able to improve the neighborhood, or at least save it -from degeneration, it certainly seems desirable to be the landlord of -one’s house, even though it be mortgaged so cleverly that the equity -of redemption is merely a name. But in this age of semi-suburban -development, when Roads and Terraces and Parks and Gates and other -Anglo-European substitutes for streets serve as “springes to catch -woodcocks,” a young couple on real estate ownership bent should have -the discerning eye of a Mrs. Julius Cæsar in order not to fall a prey -to the specious land and lot speculator. If you happen to hit on a -Sunset Terrace, everything is rose color, but to find one’s self an -owner in fee on a Locust Road, next door to crushed strawberry and a -cast-iron stag, will palsy the hopes of the hopeful. - -What attractive, roomy, tasteful affairs many of these semi-suburban -villas, which are built nowadays on the new Roads, Terraces, Parks, -Gates, and even Streets, are to be sure. There are plenty of homely -ones too, but it is a simple matter to avoid the Egyptian renaissance -scroll, and the inlaid jewel work and stained-glass bull’s eyes if -one only will. They seem to be affording to many a happy solution of -the ever new and ever old problem, which presents itself to every man -who is about to take a wife, whether it is preferable to live in the -city or the country. These new suburbs, or rather outlying wards of -our large cities, which have been carved out of what, not many years -ago, was real country where cows browsed and woods flourished, must be -very alluring to people who would fain live out of town and still be in -it. When, by stepping on an electric car or taking the train, you can, -within a quarter of an hour, be on your own piazza inhaling fresh air -and privileged to feast your eyes on a half acre or less of greensward -belonging to yourself, there would seem to be strong inducements for -refusing to settle down in a stuffy, smoky, dusty, wire-pestered city -street, however fashionable. Rapid transit has made or is making the -environs of our cities so accessible that the time-honored problem -presents itself under different conditions than formerly. There is no -such thing now as the real country for anybody who is not prepared -to spend an hour in the train. Even then one is liable to encounter -asphalt walks and a Soldier’s monument in the course of a sylvan -stroll. But the intervening territory is ample and alluring. - -For one-half the rent demanded for a town house of meagre dimensions in -the middle of a block, with no outlook whatever, new, spacious, airy, -ornamental homes with a plot of land and a pleasing view attached, -are to be had for the seeking within easy living distance from nearly -every large city. When I begin to rhapsodize, as I sometimes do, I am -apt to ask myself why it is that anybody continues to live in town. It -was only the other day that I happened, while driving with my wife in -the suburbs, to call her attention, enthusiastically, to the new house -which Perkins has secured for himself. You may remember that Perkins is -the thin, nervous lawyer with four daughters, who is solicitous as to -what will become of them when he is dead. We drove by just as he came -up the avenue from the station, which is only a three minutes’ walk -from the house. He looked tired--he always does--but there was already -a fresh jauntiness in his tread as though he sniffed ozone. He looked -up at the new house complacently, as well he might, for it is large -enough even for four daughters, and has all the engaging impressiveness -of a not too quaintly proportioned and not too abnormally stained -modern villa, a highly evolved composite of an old colonial mansion, a -Queen Anne cottage, and a French château. Before he reached the front -door, two of his daughters ran out to embrace him and relieve him of -his bag and bundles, and a half-hour later, as we drove back, he was -playing lawn tennis with three of his girls, in a white blazer with -pink stripes and knickerbockers, which gave his thin and eminently -respectable figure a rather rakish air. - -“Barbara,” I said to my wife, “why isn’t Perkins doing the sensible -thing? That’s a charming house, double the size he could get for the -same money in town--and the rent is eight hundred or a thousand dollars -instead of fifteen hundred or two thousand. He needs fewer servants -out here, for the parlor-maid isn’t kept on tenterhooks to answer the -door-bell, and there is fresh air to come back to at night, and the -means for outdoor exercise on his own or his neighbor’s lawn, which -for a nervous, thin-chested, sedentary man like Perkins is better than -cod-liver oil. Think what robust specimens those daughters should be -with such opportunities for tennis, golf, skating, and bicycling. - -“On Sundays and holidays, if the spirit moves him and his wife and the -girls to start off on an exploring expedition, they are not obliged to -take a train or pound over dusty pavements before they begin; the wild -flowers and autumn foliage and chestnut-burs are all to be had in the -woods and glens within a mile or two of their own home. Or if he needs -to be undisturbed, no noise, no interruption, but nine hours’ sleep -and an atmosphere suited to rest and contemplation on his piazza or -by his cheerful, tasteful fireside. Why isn’t this preferable to the -artificial, restless life of the city?” - -“And yet,” said Barbara, “I have heard you state that only a rich man -can afford to live in the country.” - -Women certainly delight to store up remarks made in quite another -connection, and use them as random arguments against us. - -“My dear Barbara,” said I, “this is not the country. Of course in the -real country, one needs so many things to be comfortable nowadays--a -large house, stables, horses, and what not--it has always seemed to me -that a poor man with social or cultivated instincts had better stay in -town. But have not Perkins and these other semi-suburbanites hit the -happy medium? They have railroads or electric cars at their doors, and -yet they can get real barn-yard smells.” - -“I doubt if they can,” said Barbara. “That is, unless they start a -barn-yard for the purpose, and that would bring the health authorities -down upon them at once. If this _were_ the country, I could entirely -thrill at the description you have just given of your friend Mr. -Perkins. The real country is divine; but this is oleomargarine country. -On the other hand, however, I quite agree with you that if Mr. Perkins -is delicate, this is a far healthier place for him than the city, in -spite of the journey in the train twice a day. The houses--his house -in particular--are lovely, and I dare say we all ought to do the same. -He can certainly come in contact with nature--such nature as there is -left within walking distance--easier than city people. But to console -me for not having one of these new, roomy villas, and to prevent you -from doing anything rash, I may as well state a few objections to your -paradise. As to expense, of course there is a saving in rent, and it -is true that the parlor-maid does not have to answer the door-bell -so often, and accordingly can do other things instead. Consequently, -too, Mrs. Perkins and the four girls may get into the habit of going -about untidy and in their old clothes. A dowdy girl with rosy cheeks -and a fine constitution is a pitiable object in this age of feminine -progress. Mr. Perkins will have to look out for this, and he may -require cod-liver oil after all. - -“Then there is the question of schools. In many of these semi-suburban -paradises there are no desirable schools, especially for girls, which -necessitates perpetual coming and going on trains and cars, and will -make education a wearisome thing, especially for Mrs. Perkins. She -will find, too, that her servants are not so partial to wild flowers -and chestnut-burs and fresh air as her husband and daughters. Only the -inexperienced will apply, and they will come to her reluctantly, and as -soon as she has accustomed them to her ways and made them skilful, they -will tell her they are not happy, and need the society of their friends -in town. - -“Those are a few of the drawbacks to the semi-suburban villa; but -the crucial and most serious objection is, that unless one is very -watchful, and often in spite of watchfulness, the semi-suburbanite -shuts himself off from the best social interests and advantages. He -begins by imagining that there will be no difference; that he will -see just as much of his friends and go just as frequently to balls -and dinner-parties, the concert and the theatre, the educational or -philanthropic meeting. But just that requisite and impending twenty -minutes in the train or electric car at the fag end of the day is -liable to make a hermit of him to all intents and purposes by the -end of the second year. Of course, if one is rich and has one’s own -carriage, the process of growing rusty is more gradual, though none -the less sure. On that very account most people with a large income -come to town for a few months in winter at any rate. There are so -many things in life to do, that even friends with the best and most -loving intentions call once on those who retire to suburban villas -and let that do for all time. To be sure, some people revel in being -hermits and think social entertainments and excitements a mere waste -of time and energy. I am merely suggesting that for those who wish to -keep in close touch with the active human interests of the day, the -semi-suburban villa is somewhat of a snare. The Perkinses will have to -exercise eternal vigilance, or they will find themselves seven evenings -out of seven nodding by their fireside after an ample meal, with all -their social instincts relaxed.” - -Undeniably Barbara offered the best solution of this question in her -remark, that those who can afford it spend the spring and autumn in -the country and come to town for the winter months. Certainly, if I -were one of the persons who are said to have too much for their own -good, I should do something of the kind. I might not buy a suburban -villa; indeed, I would rather go to the real country, where there are -lowing kine, and rich cream and genuine barn-yard smells, instead of -electric cars and soldiers’ monuments. There would I remain until it -was time to kill the Thanksgiving turkey, and then I would hie me to -town in order to refresh my mental faculties with city sights and -sounds during the winter-spring solstice, when the lowing kine are -all in the barn, and even one who owns a suburban villa has to fight -his way from his front door through snow-drifts, and listen to the -whistling wind instead of the robin red-breast or tinkling brook. - -Patterson, the banker, is surely to be envied in his enjoyment of two -establishments, notwithstanding that the double ownership suggests -again the effete civilizations of Europe, and was once considered -undemocratic. Patterson, though his son has been through the Keeley -cure, and his daughter lives apart from her husband, has a charming -place thirty-five miles from town, where he has many acres and many -horses, cows, and sheep, an expanse of woods, a running stream, -delicious vegetables and fruit; golf links, and a fine country house -with all the modern improvements, including a cosy, spacious library. -Then he has another house--almost a palace--in town which he opens in -the late autumn and occupies until the middle of May, for Patterson, in -spite of some foibles, is no tax dodger. - -Yes, to have two houses and live half of the year in town and the -other half in the country, with six to eight weeks at the sea-side -or mountains, so as to give the children salt air and bathing, -or a thorough change, is what most of us would choose in case we -were blessed with too much for our own good. But, unfortunately or -fortunately, most of us with even comfortable incomes cannot have -two houses, and consequently must choose between town and country or -semi-country, especially as the six or eight weeks at the sea-side or -mountains is apt to seem imperative when midsummer comes. According, -therefore, as we select to live in one or the other, it behooves us to -practise eternal vigilance, so that we may not lose our love of nature -and wreck our nerves in the worldly bustle of city life, or become -inert, rusty, and narrow among the lowing kine or in semi-suburban -seclusion. In order to live wisely, we who dwell in the cities -should in our spare hours seek fresh air, sunlight, and intercourse -with nature, and we whose homes are out of town should in our turn -rehabilitate our social instincts and rub up our manners. - -Regarding the real country, there is one other consideration of which I -am constantly reminded by a little water-color hanging in my library, -painted by me a few years ago while I was staying with my friend -Henley. It represents a modest but pretty house and a charming rustic -landscape. I call it Henley’s Folly. Henley, who possessed ardent -social instincts, had always lived in town; but he suddenly took it -into his head to move thirty miles into the country. He told me that he -did so primarily for the benefit of his wife and children, but added -that it would be the best thing in the world for him, that it would -domesticate him still more completely, and give him time to read and -cultivate himself. When I went to stay with him six months later, he -was jubilant regarding the delights of the country, and declared that -he had become a genuine farmer. He pished at the suggestion that the -daily journey to and from town was exhausting, and informed me that his -one idea was to get away from the bricks and mortar as early in the -afternoon as possible. Just two years later I heard with surprise, one -day, that the Henleys had sold their farm and were coming back to town. -The reason--confided to me by one of the family--was that his wife -was so much alone that she could not endure the solitude any longer. -“You see,” said my informant, “the nearest house of their friends -was four miles off, and as Henley stayed in town until the last gun -fired, the days he returned home at all, and as he had or invented a -reason for staying in town all night at least once a week, poor Mrs. -Henley realized that the lot of a farmer’s wife was not all roses and -sunshine.” From this I opine that if one with ardent social instincts -would live wisely he should not become a gentleman farmer merely for -the sake of his wife and children. - - - - -The _Dwelling_. - -II. - - -Whether we live in the city or the country, it must be apparent to -all of us that a great wave of architectural activity in respect to -dwelling-houses has been spreading over our land during the past twenty -years. The American architect has been getting in his work and showing -what he could do, with the result that the long, monotonous row of -brick or freestone custom-made city houses, and the stereotyped white -country farm-house with green blinds and an ell or lean-to attached, -have given place to a vivid and heterogeneous display of individual -effort. Much of this is fine and some deadly, for the display includes -not merely the generally tasteful and artistic conceptions of our -trained native architects, who have studied in Paris, but the raw -notions of all the builders of custom-made houses who, recognizing -the public desire for striking and original effects, are bent upon -surpassing one another. - -Therefore, while we have many examples, both urban and suburban, of -beautiful and impressive house architecture, the new sections of our -cities and suburbs fairly bristle with a multiplicity of individual -experiments in which the salient features of every known type of -architecture are blended fearlessly together. The native architect -who has neither been to Paris nor been able to devote much time to -study has not been limited in the expression of his genius by artistic -codes or conventions. Consequently he has felt no hesitation in using -extinguisher towers, mediæval walls, battlement effects, Queen Anne -cottage lines, Old Colonial proportions, and Eastern imagery in the -same design, and any one of them at any critical juncture when his work -has seemed to him not sufficiently striking for his own or the owner’s -taste. - -Satisfactory as all this is as evidence of a progressive spirit, and -admitting that many of even these lawless manifestations of talent are -not without merit, it is nevertheless aggressively true that the smug -complacency of the proprietor of the suburban villa, which is hedged -about by a stone rampart of variegated rough stone on an ordinary -building lot, has no justification whatever. Nor has the master of -the castellated, gloomy, half-Moorish, half-mediæval mansion, which -disfigures the fashionable quarter of many of our cities, occasion to -congratulate himself on having paid for a thing of beauty. The number -of our well-trained architects, though constantly increasing, is still -small, especially as compared with the number of people of means who -are eager to occupy a thing of beauty; then, too, even the trained -architect is apt to try experiments for the sake of testing his genius, -on a dog, so to speak--some confiding plutocrat with a love of splendor -who has left everything to him. - -The result is that grotesque and eye-distressing monsters of masonry -stand side by side on many of our chief avenues with the most graceful -and finished specimens of native architectural inspiration. As there is -no law which prevents one from building or buying an ugly house, and -as the architect, whose experiment on a dog tortures the public eye, -suffers no penalty for his crime, our national house architecture may -be said to be working out its own salvation at the public expense. It -is the duty of a patriotic citizen to believe that in this, as in other -matters of national welfare, the beautiful gradually will prevail; and -assuredly the many very attractive private residences which one sees -both in the city and the country should tend to make us hopeful. - -Why is it that the rich man who would live wisely feels the necessity -for so large a house in the city? Almost the first thing that one who -has accumulated or inherited great possessions does nowadays is to -leave the house where very likely he has been comfortable and move -into a mammoth establishment suggesting rather a palace or an emporium -than a house. Why is this? Some one answers that it is for the sake -of abundant light and extra space. Surely in a handsome house of -twenty-five or thirty feet front there should be light and space enough -for the average family, however fastidious or exacting. In the country, -where one needs many spare rooms for the accommodation of guests, there -are some advantages in the possession of an abnormally large house. But -how is the comfort of the city man enhanced by one, that is, if the -attendant discomforts are weighed in the same scale? It has sometimes -seemed to me that the wealthy or successful man invests in a prodigious -mansion as a sort of testimonial; as though he felt it incumbent on -him to erect a conventional monument to his own grandeur or success, -in order to let the public entertain no doubt about it. But so many -otherwise sensible men have deliberately built huge city houses that -this can scarcely be the controlling motive in all cases. Perhaps, if -asked, they would throw the responsibility on their wives. But it is -even more difficult to understand why a sensible woman should wish one -of the vast houses which our rising architects are naturally eager to -receive orders to construct. A handsome house where she can entertain -attractively, yes: an exquisitely furnished, sunny, corner house by all -means; a house where each child may have a room apart and where there -are plenty of spare rooms, if you like; but why a mammoth cave? She is -the person who will suffer the discomforts to be weighed in the same -scale, for the care will fall on her. - -We have in this country neither trained servants nor the housekeeper -system. The wife and mother who is the mistress of a huge establishment -wishes it to be no less a home than her former residence, and her -husband would be the first to demur were she to cast upon others the -burdens of immediate supervision. A moderate-sized modern house is the -cause of care enough, as we all know, and wherefore should any woman -seek to multiply her domestic worries by duplicating or trebling the -number of her servants? To become the manager of a hotel or to cater -for an ocean steamship is perhaps a tempting ambition for one in search -of fortune, but why should a woman, who can choose what she will have, -elect to be the slave of a modern palace with extinguisher towers? -Merely to be able to invite all her social acquaintance to her house -once a year without crowding them? It would be simpler to hire one of -the many halls now adapted for the purpose. - -The difficulty of obtaining efficient servants, and the worries -consequent upon their inefficiency, is probably the chief cause of -the rapid growth of the apartment-house among us. The contemporary -architect has selected this class of building for some of his deadliest -conceits. Great piles of fantastically disposed stone and iron tower -up stories upon stories high, and frown upon us at the street-corners -like so many Brobdingnagians. Most of them are very ugly; nevertheless -they contain the homes of many citizens, and the continuous appearance -of new and larger specimens attests their increasing popularity. -Twenty years ago there was scarcely an apartment-house to be seen in -our cities. There was a certain number of hotels where families could -and did live all the year round, but the ten-story monster, with a -janitor, an elevator, steam heat, electric light, and all the alleged -comforts of home, was practically unknown. We have always professed to -be such a home-loving people, and the so-called domestic hearth has -always been such a touchstone of sentiment among us that the exchange -of the family roof for the community of a flat by so many well-to-do -persons certainly seems to suggest either that living cheek by jowl -with a number of other households is not so distasteful as it seems to -the uninitiated, or else that modern housekeeping is so irksome that -women are tempted to swallow sentiment and escape from their trammels -to the comparatively easy conditions of an apartment. It does seem -as though one’s identity would be sacrificed or dimmed by becoming a -tenant in common, and as though the family circle could never be quite -the same thing to one who was conscious that his was only a part of one -tremendous whole. And yet, more and more people seem to be anxious to -share a janitor and front door, and, though the more fastidious insist -on their own cuisine, there are not a few content to entrust even -their gastronomic welfare to a kitchen in common. - -It must be admitted, even by those of us who rejoice in our homes, -that there is much to be said in favor of the apartment-house as a -solver of practical difficulties, and that our imaginations are largely -responsible for our antipathy. When once inside a private apartment -of the most desirable and highly evolved kind one cannot but admit -that there is no real lack of privacy, and that the assertion that the -owner has no domestic hearth is in the main incorrect. To be sure the -domain belonging to each suite is comparatively circumscribed; there is -no opportunity for roaming from garret to cellar; no private laundry; -no private backyard; and no private front-door steps; but to all -practical intents one is no less free from intrusion or inspection than -in a private house, and it may also be said that reporters and other -persevering visitors are kept at a more respectful distance by virtue -of the janitor in common on the ground floor. The sentiment in favor of -limited individual possession is difficult to eradicate from sensitive -souls, and rightly, perhaps, many of us refuse to be convinced; -but it remains true that the woman who has become the mistress of -a commodious and well-managed apartment must have many agreeable -quarters of an hour in congratulating herself that perplexities -concerning chores, heating, lighting, flights of stairs, leaks, and a -host of minor domestic matters no longer threaten her peace of mind, -and--greatest boon of all--that she now can manage with two or three -servants instead of five or six. - -In this newly developed fondness for flats we are again guilty of -imitating one of the effete civilizations--France this time--where -it has long been the custom for families to content themselves with -a story or two instead of a house; though we can claim the size and -style of architecture of the modern apartment pile as our special -brand upon the adopted institution. The introduction of the custom -here seems to me to be the result of exhaustion of the female nervous -system. The American housewife, weary of the struggle to obtain -efficient servants, having oscillated from all Catholics to all -Protestants, from all Irish to all Swedes and back again, having -experimented with negroes and Chinamen, and returned to pure white, -having tried native help and been insulted, and reverted to the -Celtic race, she--the long-suffering--has sought the apartment-house -as a haven of rest. She--the long-suffering--has assuredly been in a -false position since the Declaration of Independence declared that -all men are created equal, for she has been forced to cherish and -preserve a domestic institution which popular sentiment has refused to -recognize as consistent with the principles of Democracy. Our National -creed, whether presented in the primer or from the platform, has ever -repudiated the idea of service when accompanied by an abatement of -personal independence or confession of social inferiority. Therefore -the native American woman has persistently refused, in the face of high -wages and of exquisite moral suasion, to enter domestic service, and -has preferred the shop or factory to a comfortable home where she would -have to crook the knee and say “Yes, ma’am.” - -At the same time the native American woman, ever since “help” in the -sense of social acquaintances willing to accommodate for hire and -dine with the family has ceased to adorn her kitchen and parlor, has -been steadily forced by the demands of complex modern living to have -servants of her own. And where was she to obtain them? Excepting the -negro, only among the emigrants of foreign countries, at first among -the Irish, and presently among the English and Swedes, all of whom, -unharassed by scruples as to a consequent loss of self-respect, have -been prompt to recognize that this field of employment lay open to -them and was undisputed. They have come, and they still come in herds -to our shores, raw and undisciplined, the overflow from their own -countries; and as fast as they arrive they are feverishly snapped up -by the American housewife, who finds the need of servants more and -more imperative; for some one must do the elaborate cooking, some one -must do the fine washing, some one must polish the silver, rub the -brasses, care for the lamps, and dust the bric-à-brac in her handsomest -establishment. And no one but the emigrant, or the son and daughter of -the emigrant, is willing to. - -The consequence is that, though the native American woman is as -resolute as ever in her own refusal to be a cook or waitress in a -private family, domestic service exists as an institution no less -completely than it exists in Europe, and practically under the same -conditions, save that servants here receive considerably higher wages -than abroad because the demand is greater than the supply. There is -a perpetual wail in all our cities and suburbs that the supply of -competent cooks, and skilled laundresses and maids is so limited, and -well-trained servants can demand practically their own prices. The -conditions of service, however, are the same. That is, the servant -in the household of the free-born is still the servant; and still -the servant in the household where the mistress, who has prospered, -would originally have gone into service had she not been free-born. -For there is no one more prompt than the American housewife to keep a -servant when she can afford one, and the more she is obliged to keep -the prouder is she, though her nervous system may give way under the -strain. By this I do not mean that the servants here are ill-treated. -On the contrary, the consideration shown them is greater, and the -quarters provided for them are far more comfortable on this side of the -water than abroad. Indeed, servants fare nowhere in the world so well -as in the establishments of the well-to-do people of our large cities. -Their bedrooms are suitable and often tasteful, they are attended by -the family physician if ill, they are not overworked, and very slight -checks are put on their liberty. But they are undeniably servants. The -free-born American mistress does not regard her servants as social -equals. She expects them to stand up if they are sitting down when she -enters the room. She expects them to address her sons and daughters as -Mr. Samuel and Miss Fanny, and to be called in turn Maggie or Albertine -(or Thompson or Jones, _à l’anglaise_) without a prefix. She does her -best, in short, to preserve all the forms and all the deference on -the one hand, and the haughtiness or condescension on the other which -govern the relations between servant and mistress abroad. - -From the fact that we need so many more servants than formerly, to care -properly for our establishments, the servant here is becoming more -and more of a machine. That is, she is in nearly the same category -with the electric light and the furnace. We expect him or her to be -as unobtrusive as possible, to perform work without a hitch, and not -to draw upon our sympathies unnecessarily. The mistress of one or -two girls is sure to grow friendly and concerned as to their outside -welfare, but when she has a staff of five or six, she is thankful if -she is not obliged to know anything about them. The letter which -appeared in a New York newspaper some years ago, from an American girl, -in which she declared that she had left service because her master and -his sons handed her their dripping umbrellas with the same air as they -would have handed them to a graven image, was thoroughly in point. The -reason the native American girl will not become a servant, in spite of -the arguments of the rational and godly, is that service is the sole -employment in this country in which she can be told with impunity that -she is the social inferior of any one else. It is the telling which she -cannot put up with. It is one thing to be conscious that the person you -are constantly associated with is better educated, better mannered, and -more attractive than yourself, and it is another to be told at every -opportunity that this is so. In the shop, in the factory, and in other -walks of life, whatever her real superiors may think of her, they must -treat her as a social equal. Even that shrill-voiced, banged, bangled, -impertinent, slangy, vulgar product of our mammoth retail drygoods -system, who seems to believe herself a pattern of ladylike behavior, is -aware in her heart that she does not know how to behave, and yearns to -resemble the well-bred woman whom she daily insults. But the happiness -of her life, and its main-spring, too, lies in the consciousness -that she is free to become the first lady in the land, and that she -herself is to be her sole critic and detractor. Why is she not right -in refusing to sacrifice her independence? Why should she sell her -birthright for a mess of pottage? - -An anomalous condition of affairs is presented by this contrast -between the free-born American woman as a mistress and as a revolter -against domestic service, and it seems to me that one of two things -must come to pass. Necessarily we shall continue to have cooks, -waiting-maids, and laundresses; at least our food must be prepared, -our drawing-rooms dusted, and our linen ironed by some one. But either -we shall have to accept and acknowledge the existence among us of a -class, recruited from foreign emigrants and their descendants, which -is tarred with the brush of social proscription in direct violation of -democratic principles, or we must change the conditions of domestic -service--change them so that condescension and servility vanish, and -the contract of service becomes like the other contracts of employment -between man and man, and man and woman. - -It is fruitless now to inquire what the free-born American woman -would have done without the foreign emigrant to cook and wash for -her. The question is whether, now that she has her, she is going to -keep her, and keep her in the same comfortable and well-paid but -palpable thraldom as at present. If so, she will be merely imitating -the housewives of the effete civilizations; she will be doing simply -what every English, French, and German woman does and has done ever -since class distinctions began. But in that case, surely, we shall be -no longer able to proclaim our immunity from caste, and our Fourth of -July orators will find some difficulty in showing that other nations -are more effete in this respect than ourselves. Twenty-five years more -of development in our houses, hotels, and restaurants, if conducted -on present lines, will produce an enormous ducking and scraping, -fee-seeking, livery-wearing servant class, which will go far to -establish the claim put forth by some of our critics, that equality -on this side of the water means only political equality, and that our -class distinctions, though not so obvious, are no less genuine than -elsewhere. In this event the only logical note of explanation to send -to the Powers will be that social equality was never contemplated by -the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and that, though it is -true that any man may become President of the United States, there are -as great inequalities in morals, intellect, and manners among sons of -liberty as among the subjects of the Czar. To this the Powers will be -justified in uttering a disappointed and slightly ironical “Oh!” But -perhaps the foreign emigrant will have something to say on the subject. -Perhaps the horde from across the seas, now lured by high wages, will -decrease in numbers, or it may be that their descendants here will -learn through contact with the free-born revolter against domestic -service to revolt too. - -What would the free-born American mistress do then? With the free-born -revolter still obdurate, and the foreign emigrant ceasing to emigrate -or recalcitrant, she would be in an unpleasant fix in her elaborate -establishment conducted on effete principles. In this practical -dilemma, rather than in an awakened moral sense, seems to lie our -best hope of regeneration, for it cannot be denied that the free-born -American mistress is doing all she can at present to perpetuate the -foreign idea of domestic service, and it seems probable that so long -as the foreign emigrant is willing to be bribed the true principles -of democracy will be violated. Already the difficulty of obtaining -servants is inducing home-loving families to seek the apartment-house. -A more distinct dearth would speedily change the relations between -mistress and servant into that of contractor and contractee, as in -other employments in this country. It may be that the descendants of -the emigrant will be unable to resist the lure offered them, and that -the free-born mistress will triumph. If so, we shall become no better -and possibly no worse than the effete civilizations we promised to make -blush by the worth of our institutions. - - - - -_House-Furnishing_ and the _Commissariat_. - -I. - - -After a man and his wife have made up their minds whether to live in -a town house or suburban villa, they are obliged to consider next -what they will have in the way of furniture, and presently what they -will have for dinner. The consciousness that a house has nothing in -it but the barest fixtures--the gasometer, the water-tanks, and the -electric wires--and that it is for you and your wife to decide exactly -what shall go into it in the way of wall-papers, carpets, upholstery, -and objects of virtu, is inspiring, even though your purse be not -plethoric and your knowledge of æsthetics limited. The thought at once -presents itself that here is the chance of your lifetime to demonstrate -how beautiful and cosy a home may be, and you set eagerly to work to -surpass your predecessors of equal means. It is a worthy ambition to -endeavor to make the matrimonial nest or the home of maturer years -attractive, and if we were to peer back far enough into the past of -even this country, to the time when our great great-grandmothers -set up housekeeping with our great great-grandfathers, we should -find that furnishing was considered a seriously delightful matter, -though not perhaps the almost sacred trust we regard it to-day. I mean -our great great-grandparents who used to live in those charming old -colonial houses, and who owned the mahogany desks with brass handles -and claw feet, the tall clocks, the ravishing andirons, and all the -other old-fashioned furniture which is now so precious and difficult -to find. Distance may lend such enchantment to a spinning-wheel, a -warming-pan, or a spinnet, that one is liable to become hysterical in -praise of them, and a calm, æsthetic mind, outside the limits of an -antique furniture dealer’s store, would be justified in stigmatizing -many of the now cherished effects of our great great-grandparents as -truck; but, on the other hand, who will dispute that they possessed -very many lovely things? They had an eye for graceful shapes in their -sideboards and tables; somehow the curves they imparted to the backs of -their chairs cannot be duplicated now so as to look the same; and the -patterns of the satins, flowered chintzes, and other stuffs which they -used for covers and curtains, exercise a witchery upon us, even as we -see them now frayed and faded, which cannot proceed wholly from the -imagination. - -They had no modern comforts, poor things; no furnaces, no ice-chests, -no set bath-tubs, no running water, no sanitary improvements, no gas -or electric light; and their picturesque kitchen hearths, with great -caldrons and cranes and leather blowers, must have been exceedingly -inconvenient to cook in; but even their most incommodious appliances -were not without artistic charm. - -After them came the deluge--the era of horse-hair, the Sahara of -democratic unloveliness, when in every house, in every country town, -the set best room, which was never used by the family, stood like a -mortuary chapel solely for the reception of guests. In the cities, -in the households of the then enlightened, rep--generally green--was -frequently substituted for the sable horse-hair. Then came the days -when a dining-room or drawing-room was furnished in one pervasive -hue--a suit of sables, a brick red, a dark green, or a deep maroon. -Everything matched; the chairs and tables, desks and book-cases were -bought in sets at one fell swoop by the householder of the period who -desired to produce artistic effects. For forty years or so this was the -prevailing fashion, and the limit of purely indigenous expression. - -To it presently succeeded the æsthetic phase, borrowed from England. -Then, instead of selecting everything to match, a young or old couple -bought so as just not to match, but to harmonize. All sorts of queer -and subtle shades and tints in wall-papers and fabrics appeared, -principally dallyings with and improvisings upon green, brown, and -yellow; frescos and dados were the rage; and a wave of interest in the -scope and mission of eccentric color spread over the land. Valuable -as this movement was as an educational factor, there was nothing -American in it; or in other words, we were again simply imitative. -The very fact, however, that we were ready to imitate, betokened that -horse-hair and rep had ceased to satisfy national aspiration, and that -we were willing to accept suggestions from without, inasmuch as no -native prophet had arisen. But though the impetus came from abroad, -the awakening was genuine. Since then the desire to furnish tastefully -has been steadily waxing among the more well-to-do portion of the -population. As in the case of architecture, the increasing interest -has called into existence a professional class, which, though still -small and less generally employed than their house-designing brethren, -is beginning to play an important part in the education of the public -taste in internal house decoration and equipment. The idea that any man -or woman may be more fitted than his or her neighbor to choose a carpet -or a wall-paper has been grudgingly admitted, and still irritates the -average house-owner who is ready to furnish. But the masters, and more -conspicuously the mistresses, of the competing superb establishments -in our cities, have learned, from the sad experience of some of their -predecessors, to swallow their individual trust in their own powers of -selection, and to put themselves unreservedly into the clutches of a -professional house decorator. - -Furnishing a mammoth establishment from top to bottom with somebody -else’s money, and plenty of it, must be a delightful occupation. There -can be no carking consciousness of price to act as a drag on genius, -and it would seem as though the house decorator who was not interfered -with under these circumstances had a rare chance to show what is -what. When he fails, which is by no means out of the question, he can -ordinarily shift the responsibility on to his employer, for an employer -can rarely resist the temptation of insisting on some one touch to -prove his or her own capacity, and of course it is a simple matter -for the man of art to demonstrate that this one touch has spoiled -everything. The temptation to try to be as original and captivating in -results as possible must be almost irresistible, especially when one’s -elbow is constantly jogged by furniture and other dealers, who are only -too eager to reproduce a Directory drawing-room or any other old-time -splendor. But there is no denying that, whatever his limitations, the -house decorator is becoming the best of educators on this side of the -water, for though we cannot afford or have too much confidence in our -own taste to employ him, our wives watch him like cats and are taking -in his ideas through the pores, if not directly. - -There are, it is true, almost as many diverse styles of internal -ornamentation as of external architecture in our modern residences, -for everyone who has, or thinks he has, an aptitude for furnishing is -trying his professional or ’prentice hand, sometimes with startling -results; yet the diversities seem less significant than in the case of -external architecture, or perhaps it may be said that the sum total -of effect is much nearer to finality or perfection. If as a nation we -are deriving the inspiration for the furniture and upholsteries of -our drawing-rooms and libraries from the best French and Dutch models -of a century or more ago, we certainly can boast that the comfortable -features which distinguish our apartments from their prototypes are a -native growth. If as a people we cannot yet point to great original -artistic triumphs, may we not claim the spacious and dignified -contemporary refrigerator, the convenient laundry, the frequently -occurring and palatial bath-room, the health-conducing ventilator-pipe -and sanitary fixtures, and the various electrical and other pipes, -tubes, and appliances which have become a part of every well-ordered -house, as a national cult? To be genuinely comfortable in every-day -life seems to have become the aim all the world over of the individual -seeking to live wisely, and the rest of the world is in our debt for -the many valuable mechanical aids to comfort in the home which have -been invented on this side of the water. - -This quest for comfort is being constantly borne in mind also in the -æsthetic sense. We fit our drawing-rooms now to live in as well as to -look at. We expect to sit on our sofas and in our easy chairs; hence -we try to make them attractive to the back as well as to the eye. -Though our wives may still occasionally pull down the window-shades -to exclude a too dangerous sun, they no longer compel us to view our -best rooms from the threshold as a cold, flawless, forbidden land. -The extreme æsthetic tendencies which were rampant twenty years -ago have been toned down by this inclination, among even our most -elaborate house-furnishers, to produce the effect that rooms are -intended for every-day use by rational beings. The ultra-queer colors -have disappeared, and the carpets and wall-papers no longer suggest -perpetual biliousness or chronic nightmare. - -I think, too, the idea that a drawing-room can be made bewitchingly -cosey by crowding it with all one’s beautiful and ugly earthly -possessions has been demonstrated to be a delusion. In these days of -many wedding presents, it is difficult for young people to resist -the temptation of showing all they have received. I remember that -Mrs. George J. Spriggs--she was the daughter, you will remember, of -ex-Assistant Postmaster-General Homer W. Green--had seven lamps in her -parlor in Locust Road, three of them with umbrageous Japanese shades. -Her husband explained to me that there had been a run on lamps and -pepper-pots in their individual case. - -Now, Mrs. Julius Cæsar would have managed more cleverly. She would have -made the lamp-dealer exchange four or five of the lamps for, say, an -ornamental brass fender, a brass coal-scuttle, or a Japanese tea-tray, -and have made the jeweller substitute some equally desirable table -ornaments for the pepper-pots. And yet, when I made my wedding call on -Mrs. Cæsar, ten years ago, I remember thinking that her drawing-room -was a sort of compromise between a curiosity shop and a menagerie. To -begin with, I stumbled over the head of a tiger skin, which confronted -me as I passed through the _portière_, so that I nearly fell into the -arms of my hostess. It seemed to me that I had stepped into a veritable -bazaar. A large bear skin lay before the fire as a hearth-rug, and -on either side of the grate squatted a large, orientally conceived -china dragon with an open mouth. Here and there, under furniture or in -corners, were gaping frogs in bronze or china. A low plush-covered -table was densely arrayed with small china dogs of every degree. -On another table was spread a number of silver ornaments--a silver -snuff-box, a silver whistle, a silver feather, a silver match-box, -and a silver shoe-buckle--all objects of virtu of apparently antique -workmanship. There were three lamps with ornamental shades--a fluted -china shade, a paper shade in semblance of a full-blown rose, and a -yellow satin shade with drooping fringe. From the low studded ceiling -depended a vast Japanese paper lantern. Sundry and divers china -vases and shepherdesses occupied the mantel-piece and the top of the -book-case, and had overflowed on to a writing-table supplied with -brass ornaments. There were numerous pictures, large and small, on the -walls, under many of which colored china plates had been hung. There -were photographs in frames everywhere. The actual space where I could -stand without knocking over anything was about the size of a hat bath, -and was shut in by a circle of low chairs and divans besprinkled with -æsthetic yellow, green, and pink soft silk cushions. On one of these -divans my hostess was reclining in a Grosvenor gallery tea-gown, so -that she seemed to wallow in cushions, and Julius Cæsar himself was -sunk in the depths of one of the chairs, so near the ground that his -knees seemed to rest on his chin, and one might fairly have taken him -for another china frog of extraordinary proportions. All this in a -comparatively small room where there were several other knick-knacks -which I have omitted to mention. Better this, perhaps, than the -drawing-room of forty years ago, when the visitor’s gaze was bounded by -cold green rep, and he was restrained only by decorum from hurling into -the fire the tidy or antimacassar which tickled his neck, or detached -itself and wriggled down between his back and the back of the chair. - -But Mrs. Cæsar’s drawing-room, in her new house on Belport Avenue, has -been furnished from a very different point of view than her first one, -which shows how rapidly tastes change in a progressive society. Mrs. -Cæsar and Julius chose everything themselves this time as they did -before, but they had learned from experience, and from the new work -of the contemporary decorator. There is plenty of unoccupied space -now to show her possessions to advantage, and there are not too many -possessions visible for the size of the parlor; there is neither so -much uniformity of color and design as to weary the eye, nor so much -variety or eccentricity as to irritate it; consequently, the effect on -the visitor is not that he is in a room intended for luxurious display, -but in an exquisitely furnished room adapted for daily use. In other -words, the controlling idea at present, of those who seek to make -their houses charming, seems to be to combine comfort with elegance so -skilfully that while one may realize the latter, one is conscious only -of the former. Though decorators are still experimenting, as probably -they always will be, to attain novel effects, they are disposed to -make use of queer or attenuated hues, Moorish blazonry, stamped -leather, peacock feathers, elephant tusks, stained-glass windows, and -Japanese lacquer-work with much more discretion than a few years ago. -Virgin-white instead of dirt-brown lights up our halls and stair-cases, -and the vast chandeliers which used to dazzle the eye no longer dangle -from the ceiling. Indeed, it seems as though it would be difficult to -make the interior of the homes of our well-to-do class more comfortable -and attractive than they are at present. It may be that some of our -very rich people are disposed to waste their energies in devising and -striving for more consummate elegance, thereby exposing us all to the -charge that we are becoming too luxurious for our spiritual good. But -there can be little question that the ambition to surround one’s self -with as much beauty, consistent with comfort, as one can afford is -desirable, even from the ethical standpoint. - -Undeniably our point of view has changed extraordinarily in the last -thirty years in regard to house-furnishing, as in regard to so many -other matters of our material welfare, and there certainly is some -ground for fearing that the pendulum is swinging just at present -too far in the direction opposite to that of high thinking and low -living; but, after all, though the reaction from ugliness has been and -continues to be exuberant, it is as yet by no means wide-embracing. In -fact, our cultivated well-to-do class--though it is well abreast of -the rest of the civilized world in aspiration and not far behind it in -accomplishment, with certain vivifying traits of its own which the old -world societies do not possess or have lost--is still comparatively -small; and there is still so much Stygian darkness outside it in -respect to house-furnishing and home comfort in general, that we can -afford to have the exuberance continue for the present; for there is -some reason to believe that most of the descendants of our old high -thinkers have become high livers, or at least, if low livers, have -ceased to be high thinkers. Mutton-soup for breakfast and unattractive -domestic surroundings seem to comport nowadays with ignoble aims, if -nothing worse; moreover, it must not be forgotten that the plain people -of the present is no longer the plain people of forty years ago, but is -largely the seed of the influx of foreign peasants, chiefly inferior -and often scum, which the sacredness of our institutions has obliged us -to receive. - - - - -_House-Furnishing_ and the _Commissariat_. - -II. - - -If we have become cosmopolitan in the matter of domestic comfort and -elegance as regards our drawing-rooms, the same is certainly true of -our dining-rooms, and dinner-tables. But here it seems to me that we -are more justly open to criticism on the score of over-exuberance. -That is, the fairly well-to-do class, for the plain people of foreign -blood, and the low liver of native blood, eat almost as indigestible -food, and quite as rapidly and unceremoniously, as the pie and doughnut -nurtured yeoman of original Yankee stock, who thrived in spite of his -diet, and left to his grandchildren the heritage of dyspepsia which -has become nervous prostration in the present generation. It seems as -though our instincts of hospitality have grown in direct ratio with -our familiarity with and adoption of civilized creature comforts, -and any charge of exuberance may doubtless be fairly ascribed to the -national trait of generosity, the abuse of which is after all a noble -blemish. But, on the other hand, facts remain, even after one has given -a pleasing excuse for their existence, and it may be doubted if a -spendthrift is long consoled by the reflection that his impecuniosity -is due to his own disinclination to stint. May it not truthfully be -charged against the reasonably well-to-do American citizen that he has -a prejudice against thrift, especially where the entertainment of his -fellow man or woman is concerned? The rapid growth of wealth and the -comparative facility of becoming rich during the last half century of -our development, has operated against the practice of small economies, -so that we find ourselves now beset by extravagant traditions which we -hesitate to deviate from for fear of seeming mean. Many a man to-day -pays his quarter of a dollar ruefully and begrudgingly to the colored -Pullman car porter at the end of his journey, when he is “brushed off,” -because he cannot bring himself to break the custom which fixed the -fee. It would be interesting to estimate what the grand total of saving -to the American travelling public would have been if ten instead of -twenty-five cents a head had been paid to the tyrant in question since -he first darkened the situation. If not enough to maintain free schools -for the negro, at least sufficient to compel railroad managements to -give their employees suitable wages instead of letting the easy-going -traveller, who has already paid for the privilege of a reserved seat, -pay a premium on that. The exorbitant fees bestowed on waiters is but -another instance of a tendency to be over-generous, which, once reduced -to custom, becomes the severest kind of tax, in that it is likely to -affect the warmest-hearted people. - -This tendency to be needlessly lavish in expenditure is most -conspicuous when we are offering hospitality in our own homes. Among -the viands which we have added to the bills of fare of humanity, roast -turkey and cranberry-sauce, Indian meal, and probably baked beans, are -entitled to conspicuous and honorable mention, but is it not true, -notwithstanding champagne is a foreign wine, that the most prodigious -discovery in the line of food or drink yet made by the well-to-do -people of this country, is the discovery of champagne? Does it not flow -in one golden effervescing stream, varied only by the pops caused by -the drawing of fresh corks, from the Statue of Liberty Enlightening -the World to the Golden Gate? And the circumstance that every pop -costs the entertainer between three and four dollars, seems in no -wise to interrupt the cheery explosions. There are some people who do -not drink champagne or any other wine, from principle, and there are -some with whom it does not agree, but the average individual finds -that the interest of festive occasions is heightened by its presence -in reasonable abundance, and is apt to deplore its total absence with -internal groans. But surely ninety-nine men in our large cities out -of one hundred, who are accustomed to entertain and be entertained, -must be weary of the sight of this expensive tempter at the feast, -which it is so difficult to refuse when set before one, and which is -so often quaffed against better judgment or inclination. The champagne -breakfast, the champagne luncheon, the champagne dinner, and the -champagne supper, with a champagne cocktail tossed in as a stop-gap, -hound the social favorite from January to December, until he is fain -to dream of the Old Oaken Bucket, and sooner or later to drink Lithia -water only. - -With perpetual and unremitting champagne as the key-note of social -gatherings, no wonder that the table ornaments and the comestibles -become more splendid. A little dinner of eight or ten is no longer a -simple matter of a cordial invitation and an extra course. The hostess -who bids her contemporaries to dine with her most informally ten days -hence, uses a figure of speech which is innocuous from the fact that it -is known to be a deliberate falsehood. She begins generally by engaging -a cook from outside to prepare the dinner, which must surely wound the -sensibilities of any self-respecting couple the first time, however -hardened to the situation they may become later. - -At this stage of my reflections I am interrupted by my wife, -Barbara--for I was thinking aloud--with a few words of expostulation. - -“Are you not a little severe? I assume that you are referring now to -people with a comfortable income, but who are not disgustingly rich. Of -course, nowadays, the very rich people keep cooks who can cook for a -dinner-party, cooks at eight dollars or more a week and a kitchen maid; -so it is only the hostess with a cook at four and a half to six dollars -a week and no kitchen maid who is likely to engage an accommodator. But -what is the poor thing to do? Give a wretched, or plain dinner which -may make her hair grow white in a single night? Surely, when a woman -invites friends to her house she does not wish them to go away half -starved, or remembering that they have had disagreeable things to eat. -In that case she would prefer not to entertain at all.” - -“The question is,” I answered, “whether it is more sensible to try to -be content with what one has, or to vie with those who are better off. -We do not attempt to dine on gold plate, nor have we a piano decorated -with a five-thousand-dollar painting by one of the great artists, like -Patterson, the banker. Why should we endeavor to compete with his -kitchen?” - -“The clever thing, of course, is to find a cook for six dollars a week -who can cook for a dinner-party,” answered Barbara, pensively; “and -yet,” she added, “though our cook can, the chances are that nine out -of ten of the people who dine with us think that we hired her for the -occasion.” - -“Precisely. Just because the custom has grown so. It is sheer -extravagance.” - -“After all, my dear, it is a comparatively small matter--a five-dollar -bill.” - -“Pardon me. Five dollars for the cook, because one’s own cook is not -good enough; three or five dollars for an accommodating maid or waiter, -because you cannot trust your chamber-maid to assist your waitress; -eight dollars for champagne, and so on.” - -“Do not say ‘your’--mine can.” - -“Her, then--the woman of the day. I am trying to show that a small -informal dinner is a cruelly expensive affair for the average man with -a comfortable working income.” - -“I admit that a dinner for eight or ten is expensive,” said Barbara. -“It means twenty-five dollars at the lowest, even if you have your -own cook. But what is one to do? You don’t seem to appreciate that a -good plain cook cannot usually prepare dinner-party dishes, and that a -plain dinner is now almost as different from a dinner-party dinner as a -boiled egg is from caviare.” - -“Precisely. There is the pity of it. The growth here of the French -restaurant and the taste for rich and elaborate cookery has doubtless -been a good thing in its way, if only that it is now possible to obtain -a tolerably well-cooked meal at most of the hotels in our large cities -and principal watering-places; but why should people of moderate means -and social instincts feel constrained to offer a banquet on every -occasion when they entertain? I for one consider it a bore to have so -much provided when I go out to dinner.” - -“You must admit,” said Barbara, “that dinners are not nearly so long -as they were a few years ago. Now, by means of the extra service you -complain of, and by keeping the number of courses down, a dinner ought -not to last longer than an hour and a half, whereas it used to take -two hours and over. In England they are much worse than here. You are -given, for instance, two puddings, one after the other, and ices to -follow.” - -“I agree,” said I, “that we have curtailed the length so that there -is not much to complain of on that score. I think, though, that -comparatively plain dishes well served are quite as apt to please as -the aspics, chartreuses, timbales, and other impressive gallicisms -under which the accommodating party cook is wont to cater to the -palates of informally invited guests. I sometimes think that the very -few of our great great-grandfathers who knew how to live at all must -have had more appetizing tables than we. Their family cooks, from all -accounts, knew how to roast and boil and bake and stew, culinary arts -which somehow seem to be little understood by the chefs of to-day. -Then again, the old-fashioned Delft crockery--blue ships sailing on a -blue sea--was very attractive. Our modern dinner-tables, when arrayed -for a party, have almost too much fuss and feathers. Women worry until -they get cut glass, if it is not given them as a wedding present, and -several sets of costly plates--Sèvres, Dresden, or Crown Derby--are apt -to seem indispensable to housekeepers of comparatively limited means.” - -“Cut glass is lovely, and the same plates through seven courses are -rather trying,” said Barbara, parenthetically. - -“Of course it is lovely, and I am very glad you have some. But -is not the modern American woman of refined sensibilities just a -little too eager to crowd her table with every article of virtu she -possesses--every ornamental spoon, dish, cup, and candlestick--until -one is unable to see at any one spot more than a square inch of -tablecloth? In the centre of the table she sets a crystal bowl of -flowers, a silver basket of ferns, or a dish of fruit. This is flanked -by apostle or gold-lined spoons, silver dishes of confectionery of -various kinds, silver candlesticks or candelabra fitted with pink or -saffron shades, one or two of which are expected to catch fire, an -array of cut glass or Venetian glass at every plate, and, like as not, -pansies strewn all over the table.” - -“The modern dinner-table is very pretty,” responded Barbara. “I don’t -see how it could be improved materially.” - -“I dare say, but somehow one can’t help thinking at times that the -effort for effect is too noticeable, and that the real object of -sitting down to dinner in company, agreeable social intercourse, is -consequently lost sight of. If only the very rich were guilty of wanton -display, the answer would be that the rank and file of our well-to-do, -sensible people have very simple entertainments. Unfortunately, while -the very rich are constantly vying to outstrip one another, the -dinner-table and the dinner of the well-to-do American are each growing -more and more complex and elaborate. Perhaps not more so than abroad -among the nobility or people of means; but certainly we have been -Europeanized in this respect to such an extent that, not only is there -practically nothing left for us to learn in the way of being luxurious, -but I am not sure that we are not disposed to convince the rest of the -civilized world that a free-born American, when fully developed, can be -the most luxurious individual on earth.” - -Barbara looked a little grave at this. “Everything used to be so ugly -and unattractive a little while ago that I suppose our heads have been -turned,” she answered. “After this I shall make a rule, when we give a -dinner-party, to keep one-half of my table ornaments in the safe as a -rebuke to my vanity. Only if I am to show so much of the tablecloth, I -shall have to buy some with handsome patterns. Don’t you see?” - -Perhaps this suggestion that our heads have been turned for the time -being by our national prosperity, and that they will become straight -again in due course of time, is the most sensible view to take of the -situation. There can be no doubt that among well-to-do people, who -would object to be classed in “the smart set,” as the reporters of -social gossip odiously characterize those prominent in fashionable -society in our large cities, the changes in the last thirty years -connected with every-day living, as well as with entertaining, have -all been in the direction of cosmopolitan usage. It is now only a -very old-fashioned or a very blatant person who objects to the use of -evening dress at the dinner-table, or the theatre, as inconsistent -with true patriotism. The dinner-hour has steadily progressed from -twelve o’clock noon until it has halted at seven _post_ meridian, as -the ordinary hour for the most formal meal of the day, with further -postponement to half-past seven or even eight among the fashionable -for the sake of company. The frying-pan and the tea-pot have -ceased to reign supreme as the patron saints of female nutrition, -and the beefsteak, the egg, both cooked and raw, milk and other -flesh-and-blood-producing food are abundantly supplied to the rising -generation of both sexes by the provident parent of to-day. The price -of beef in our large cities has steadily advanced in price until its -use as an article of diet is a serious monster to encounter in the -monthly bills, but the husband and father who is seeking to live -wisely, seems not to be deterred from providing it abundantly. - -From this it is evident that if we are unduly exuberant in the pursuit -of creature comforts, it is not solely in the line of purely ornamental -luxuries. If we continue to try our nervous systems by undue exertion, -they are at least better fitted to stand the strain, by virtue of -plenty of nutritious food, even though dinner-parties tempt us now -and then to over-indulgence, or bore us by their elaborateness. Yet -it remains to be seen whether the income of the American husband -and father will be able to stand the steady drain occasioned by the -liberal table he provides, and it may be that we have some lessons in -thrift on this score still in store for us. There is this consolation, -that if our heads have been turned in this respect also, and we are -supplying more food for our human furnaces than they need, the force -of any reaction will not fall on us, but on the market-men, who are -such a privileged class that our candidates for public office commonly -provide a rally for their special edification just before election-day, -and whose white smock-frocks are commonly a cloak for fat though greasy -purses. Yet Providence seems to smile on the market-man in that it has -given him the telephone, through which the modern mistress can order -her dinner, or command chops or birds, when unexpected guests are -foreshadowed. Owing to the multiplicity of the demands upon the time of -both men and women, the custom of going to market in person has largely -fallen into decay. The butcher and grocer send assistants to the house -for orders, and the daily personal encounter with the smug man in -white, which used to be as inevitable as the dinner, has now mainly -been relegated to the blushing bride of from one week to two years’ -standing, and the people who pay cash for everything. Very likely we -are assessed for the privilege of not being obliged to nose our turkeys -and see our chops weighed in advance, and it is difficult to answer the -strictures of those who sigh for what they call the good old times, -when it was every man’s duty, before he went to his office, to look -over his butcher’s entire stock and select the fattest and juiciest -edibles for the consumption of himself and family. As for paying cash -for everything, my wife Barbara says that, unless people are obliged to -be extremely economical, no woman in this age of nervous prostration -ought to run the risk of bringing on that dire malady by any such -imprudence, and that to save five dollars a month on a butcher’s -bill, and pay twenty-five to a physician for ruined nerves, is false -political economy. - -“I agree with you,” she added, “that we Americans live extravagantly -in the matter of daily food--especially meat--as compared with the -general run of people in other countries; but far more serious than -our appetites and liberal habits, in my opinion, is the horrible waste -which goes on in our kitchens, due to the fact that our cooks are -totally ignorant of the art of making the most of things. Abroad, -particularly on the Continent, they understand how to utilize every -scrap, so that many a comfortable meal is provided from what our -servants habitually cast into the swill-tub. Here there is perpetual -waste--waste--waste, and no one seems to understand how to prevent it. -There you have one never-failing reason for the size of our butchers’ -and grocers’ bills.” - -I assume that my wife, who is an intelligent person, must be correct -in this accusation of general wastefulness which she makes against the -American kitchen. If so, here we are confronted again with the question -of domestic service from another point of view. How long can we afford -to throw our substance into the swill-tub? If our emigrant cooks do not -understand the art of utilizing scraps and remnants, are we to continue -to enrich our butchers without let or hindrance? It would seem that -if the American housewife does not take this matter in hand promptly, -the cruel laws of political economy will soon convince her by grisly -experience that neither poetry nor philanthropy can flourish in a land -where there is perpetual waste below stairs. - - - - -_Education._ - -I. - - -On occasions of oratory in this country, nothing will arouse an -audience more quickly than an allusion to our public school system, -and any speaker who sees fit to apostrophize it is certain to be -fervidly applauded. Moreover, in private conversation, whether with our -countrymen or with foreigners, every citizen is prone to indulge in -the statement, commonly uttered with some degree of emotion, that our -public schools are the great bulwarks of progressive democracy. Why, -then, is the American parent, as soon as he becomes well-to-do, apt to -send his children elsewhere? - -I was walking down town with a friend the other day, and he asked me -casually where I sent my boys to school. When I told him that they -attended a public school he said, promptly, “Good enough. I like to see -a man do it. It’s the right thing.” I acquiesced modestly; then, as I -knew that he had a boy of his own, I asked him the same question. - -“My son,” he replied slowly, “goes to Mr. Bingham’s”--indicating -a private school for boys in the neighborhood. “He is a little -delicate--that is, he had measles last summer, and has never quite -recovered his strength. I had almost made up my mind to send him to a -public school, so that he might mix with all kinds of boys, but his -mother seemed to think that the chances of his catching scarlet fever -or diphtheria would be greater, and she has an idea that he would make -undesirable acquaintances and learn things which he shouldn’t. So, on -the whole, we decided to send him to Bingham’s. But I agree that you -are right.” - -There are many men in the community who, like my friend, believe -thoroughly that every one would do well to send his boys to a public -school--that is, every one but themselves. When it comes to the case -of their own flesh and blood they hesitate, and in nine instances out -of ten, on some plea or other, turn their backs on the principles they -profess. This is especially true in our cities, and it has been more or -less true ever since the Declaration of Independence; and as a proof of -the flourishing condition of the tendency at present, it is necessary -merely to instance the numerous private schools all over the country. -The pupils at these private schools are the children of our people -of means and social prominence, the people who ought to be the most -patriotic citizens of the Republic. - -I frankly state that I, for one, would not send my boys to a public -school unless I believed the school to be a good one. Whatever -other motives may influence parents, there is no doubt that many -are finally deterred from sending their boys to a public school by -the conviction that the education offered to their sons in return -for taxes is inferior to what can be obtained by private contract. -Though a father may be desirous to have his boys understand early the -theory of democratic equality, he may well hesitate to let them remain -comparatively ignorant in order to impress upon them this doctrine. -In this age, when so much stress is laid on the importance of giving -one’s children the best education possible, it seems too large a price -to pay. Why, after all, should a citizen send his boys to a school -provided by the State, if better schools exist in the neighborhood -which he can afford to have them attend? - -This conviction on the part of parents is certainly justified in many -sections of the country, and when justifiable, disarms the critic who -is prepared to take a father to task for sending his children to a -private school. Also, it is the only argument which the well-to-do -aristocrat can successfully protect himself behind. It is a full suit -of armor in itself, but it is all he has. Every other excuse which he -can give is flimsy as tissue-paper, and exposes him utterly. Therefore, -if the State is desirous to educate the sons of its leading citizens, -it ought to make sure that the public schools are second to none in -the land. If it does not, it has only itself to blame if they are -educated apart from the sons of the masses of the population. Nor is it -an answer to quote the Fourth of July orator, that our public schools -are second to none in the world; for one has only to investigate to -be convinced that, both as regards the methods of teaching and as -regards ventilation, many of them all over the country are signally -inferior to the school as it should be, and the school, both public -and private, as it is in certain localities. So long as school boards -and committees, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, are composed mainly -of political aspirants without experience in educational matters, and -who seek to serve as a first or second step toward the White House, -our public schools are likely to remain only pretty good. So long as -people with axes to grind, or, more plainly speaking, text-books to -circulate, are chosen to office, our public schools are not likely to -improve. So long--and here is the most serious factor of all--so long -as the well-to-do American father and mother continue to be sublimely -indifferent to the condition of the public schools, the public schools -will never be so good as they ought to be. - -It must certainly be a source of constant discouragement to the -earnest-minded people in this country, who are interested in education, -and are at the same time believers in our professed national hostility -to class distinctions, that the well-to-do American parent so calmly -turns his back on the public schools, and regards them very much from -the lofty standpoint from which certain persons are wont to regard -religion--as an excellent thing for the masses, but superfluous for -themselves. Of course, if we are going, in this respect also, to model -ourselves on and imitate the older civilizations, there is nothing -to be said. If the public schools are to be merely a semi-charitable -institution for children whose parents cannot afford to separate them -from the common herd, the discussion ceases. But what becomes, then, -of our cherished and Fourth of July sanctified theories of equality and -common school education? And what do we mean when we prate of a common -humanity, and no upper class? - -It is in the city or town, where the public school is equal or superior -to the private school, that the real test comes. Yet in these places -well-to-do parents seem almost as indifferent as when they have the -righteous defence that their children would be imperfectly educated, -or breathe foul air, were they to be sent to a public school. They -take no interest, and they fairly bristle with polite and ingenious -excuses for evading compliance with the institutions of their country. -This is true, probably, of three-fifths of those parents, who can -afford, if necessary, to pay for private instruction. And having once -made the decision that, for some reason, a public school education -is not desirable for their children, they feel absolved from further -responsibility and practically wash their hands of the matter. It is -notorious that a very large proportion of the children of the leading -bankers, merchants, professional men, and other influential citizens, -who reside in the so-called court end of our large cities, do not -attend the public schools, and it is equally notorious that the -existence of a well-conducted and satisfactory school in the district -affects the attendance comparatively little. If only this element of -the population, which is now so indifferent, would interest itself -actively, what a vast improvement could be effected in our public -school system! If the parents in the community, whose standards of life -are the highest, and whose ideas are the most enlightened, would as a -class co-operate in the advancement of common education, the charge -that our public schools produce on the whole second-rate acquirements, -and second-rate morals and manners, would soon be refuted, and the -cause of popular education would cease to be handicapped, as it is -at present, by the coolness of the well-to-do class. If the public -schools, in those sections of our cities where our most intelligent and -influential citizens have their homes, are unsatisfactory, they could -speedily be made as good as any private school, were the same interest -manifested by the tax-payers as is shown when an undesirable pavement -is laid, or a company threatens to provide rapid transit before their -doors. Unfortunately, that same spirit of aloofness, which has in the -past operated largely to exclude this element in the nation from -participation in the affairs of popular government, seems to be at the -bottom of this matter. Certainly much progress has been made in the -last twenty years in remedying the political evil, and the public good -appears to demand a change of front from the same class of people on -the subject of common education, unless we are prepared to advocate the -existence and growth of a favored, special class, out of touch with, -and at heart disdainful of, the average citizen. - -The most serious enemies of the public schools among well-to-do people -appear to be women. Many a man, alive to the importance of educating -his sons in conformity with the spirit of our Constitution, would like -to send his boys to a public school, but is deterred by his wife. A -mother accustomed to the refinements of modern civilization is apt to -shrink from sending her fleckless darling to consort, and possibly -become the boon companion or bosom friend, of a street waif. - -She urges the danger of contamination, both physical and moral, and -is only too glad to discover an excuse for refusing to yield. “Would -you like to have your precious boy sit side by side with a little -negro?” I was asked one day, in horrified accents, by a well-to-do -American mother; and I have heard many fears expressed by others that -their offspring would learn vice, or contract disease, through daily -association with the children of the mass. It is not unjust to state -that the average well-to-do mother is gratified when the public school, -to which her sons would otherwise be sent, is so unsatisfactory that -their father’s patriotism is overborne by other considerations. All -theories of government or humanity are lost sight of in her desire to -shelter her boys, and the simplest way to her seems to be to set them -apart from the rest of creation, instead of taking pains to make sure -that they are suitably taught and protected side by side with the other -children of the community. - -Excellent as many of our private schools are, it is doubtful if either -the morals are better, or the liability to disease is less, among the -children who attend them than at a public school of the best class. To -begin with, the private schools in our cities are eagerly patronized by -that not inconsiderable class of parents who hope or imagine that the -social position of their children is to be established by association -with the children of influential people. Falsehood, meanness, and -unworthy ambitions are quite as dangerous to character, when the little -man who suggests them has no patches on his breeches, as when he has, -and unfortunately there are no outward signs on the moral nature, -like holes in trousers, to serve as danger signals to our darlings. -Then again, those of us who occupy comfortable houses in desirable -localities, will generally find on investigation that the average of -the class of children which attend the public school in such a district -is much superior to what paternal or maternal fancy has painted. In -such a district the children of the ignorant emigrant class are not -to be found in large numbers. The pupils consist mainly of the rank -and file of the native American population, whose tendencies and -capacities for good have always been, and continue to be, the basis of -our strength as a people. There is no need that a mother with delicate -sensibilities should send her son into the slums in order to obtain for -him a common school education; she has merely to consent that he take -his chances with the rest of the children of the district in which he -lives, and bend her own energies to make the standards of that school -as high as possible. In that way she will best help to raise the tone -of the community as a whole, and best aid to obliterate those class -distinctions which, in spite of Fourth of July negations, are beginning -to expose us to the charge of insincerity. - -When a boy has reached the age of eleven or twelve, another -consideration presents itself which is a source of serious perplexity -to parents. Shall he be educated at home--that is, attend school -in his own city or town--or be sent to one of the boarding-schools -or academies which are ready to open their doors to him and fit -him for college? Here again we are met by the suggestion that the -boarding-school of this type is not a native growth, but an exotic. -England has supplied us with a precedent. The great boarding-schools, -Rugby, Eton, and Harrow, are the resort of the gentlemen of England. -Though termed public schools, they are class schools, reserved and -intended for the education of only the highly respectable. The sons of -the butcher, the baker, and candlestick-maker are not formally barred, -but they are tacitly excluded. The pupils are the sons of the upper and -well-to-do middle classes. A few boarding-schools for boys have been -in existence here for many years, but in the last twenty there has -been a notable increase in their number and importance. These, too, are -essentially class schools, for though ostensibly open to everybody, the -charges for tuition and living are beyond the means of parents with a -small income. Most of them are schools of a religious denomination, -though commonly a belief in the creed for which the institution stands -is not made a formal requisite for admission. The most successful -profess the Episcopalian faith, and in other essential respects are -modelled deliberately on the English public schools. - -The strongest argument for sending a boy to one of these schools -is the fresh-air plea. Undeniably, the growing boy in a large city -is at a disadvantage. He can rarely, if ever, obtain opportunities -for healthful exercise and recreation equal to those afforded by a -well-conducted boarding-school. He is likely to become a little man too -early, or else to sit in the house because there is nowhere to play. -At a boarding-school he will, under firm but gentle discipline, keep -regular hours, eat simple food, and between study times be stimulated -to cultivate athletic or other outdoor pursuits. It is not strange that -parents should be attracted by the comparison, and decide that, on -the whole, their boys will fare better away from home. Obviously the -aristocratic mother will point out to her husband that his predilection -for the public school system is answered by the fact that the State -does not supply schools away from the city, where abundant fresh air -and a famous foot-ball field are appurtenant to the institution. Tom -Brown at Rugby recurs to them both, and they conclude that what has -been good enough for generations of English boys will be best for their -own son and heir. - -On the other hand, have we Americans ever quite reconciled ourselves -to, and sympathized with, the traditional attitude of English parents -toward their sons as portrayed in veracious fiction? The day of parting -comes; the mother, red-eyed from secret weeping, tries not to break -down; the blubbering sisters throw their arms around the neck of the -hero of the hour, and slip pen-wipers of their own precious making -into his pockets; the father, abnormally stern to hide his emotion, -says, bluffly, “Good-by, Tom; it’s time to be off, and we’ll see you -again at Christmas.” And out goes Tom, a tender fledgeling, into the -great world of the public school, and that is the last of home. His -holidays arrive, but there is no more weeping. He is practically out -of his parents’ lives, and the sweet influence of a good mother is -exercised only through fairly regular correspondence. And Tom is said -to be getting manly, and that the nonsense has nearly been knocked out -of him. He has been bullied and has learned to bully; he has been a -fag and is now a cock. Perhaps he is first scholar, if not a hero of -the cricket or foot-ball field. Then off he goes to college, half a -stranger to those who love him best. - -This is fine and manly perhaps, in the Anglo-Saxon sense, but does it -not seem just a little brutal? Are we well-to-do Americans prepared to -give up to others, however exemplary, the conduct of our children’s -lives? Granting that the American private boarding-school is a -delightful institution, where bullying and fags and cocks are not -known, can it ever take the place of home, or supply the stimulus to -individual life which is exercised by wise parental love and precept? -Of course, it is easier, in a certain sense, to send one’s boy to a -select boarding-school, where the conditions are known to be highly -satisfactory. It shifts the responsibility on to other shoulders, and -yet leaves one who is not sensitive, in the pleasing frame of mind -that the very best thing has been done for the young idea. In our busy -American life--more feverish than that of our English kinsfolk whose -institution we have copied--many doubtless are induced to seek this -solution of a perplexing problem by the consciousness of their own lack -of efficiency, and their own lack of leisure to provide a continuous -home influence superior or equal to what can be supplied by headmasters -and their assistants, who are both churchmen and athletes. Many, too, -especially fathers, are firm believers in that other English doctrine, -that most boys need to have the nonsense knocked out of them, and that -the best means of accomplishing this result is to cut them loose from -their mothers’ apron-strings. - -It is to be borne in mind in this connection that the great English -public schools are a national cult. That is, everybody above a certain -class sends his sons to one of them. On the other hand, the private -boarding-schools on this side of the water, fashioned after them, -have thus far attracted the patronage of a very small element of the -population. It is their misfortune, rather than their fault, that they -are chiefly the resort of the sons of rich or fashionable people, and -consequently are the most conspicuously class schools in the country. -Doubtless the earnest men who conduct most of them regret that this is -so, but it is one of the factors of the case which the American parent -with sons must face at present. It may be that this is to be the type -of school which is to become predominant here, and that, as in England, -the nation will recognize it as a national force, even though here, -as there, only the sons of the upper classes enjoy its advantages. -That will depend partly on the extent to which we shall decide, as a -society, to promote further class education. At present these schools -are essentially private institutions. They are small; they do not, -like our American colleges, offer scholarships, and thus invite the -attendance of ambitious students without means. Moreover, they are -almost universally conducted on a sectarian basis, or with a sectarian -leaning, which is apt to proselytize, at least indirectly. - -While those in charge of them indisputably strive to inculcate every -virtue, the well-to-do American father must remember that his sons -will associate intimately there with many boys whose parents belong to -that frivolous class which is to-day chiefly absorbed in beautiful -establishments, elaborate cookery, and the wholly material vanities -of life, and are out of sympathy with, or are indifferent to, the -earnest temper and views of that already large and intelligent portion -of the community, which views with horror the development among us -of an aristocracy of wealth, which apes and is striving to outdo the -heartless inanities of the Old World. He must remember that a taste for -luxury and sensuous, material aims, even though they be held in check -by youthful devotion to the rites of the church, will prove no less -disastrous, in the long run, to manhood and patriotism, than the lack -of fresh air or a famous foot-ball field. - -If, however, the American father chooses to keep his sons at home, -he is bound to do all he can to overcome the physical disadvantages -of city life. Fresh air and suitable exercise can be obtained in the -suburbs of most cities by a little energy and co-operation on the -part of parents. As an instance, in one or two of our leading cities, -clubs of twelve to fifteen boys are sent out three or four afternoons -a week under the charge of an older youth--usually a college or other -student--who, without interfering with their liberty, supervises -their sports, and sees that they are well occupied. On days when the -weather is unsuitable for any kind of game, he will take them to -museums, manufactories, or other places of interest in the vicinity. In -this way some of the watchfulness and discipline which are constantly -operative at a boarding-school, are exercised without injury to home -ties. There is no doubt that, unless parents are vigilant and interest -themselves unremittingly in providing necessary physical advantages, -the boys in a crowded city are likely to be less healthy and vigorous -in body, and perhaps in mind, than those educated at a first-class -boarding-school. It may be, as our cities increase in size, and suburbs -become more difficult of access, that the boarding-school will become -more generally popular; but there is reason to believe that, before it -is recognized as a national institution, sectarian religion will have -ceased to control it, and it will be less imitative of England in its -tone and social attitude. Until then, at least, many a parent will -prefer to keep his boys at home. - - - - -_Education._ - -II. - - -“Supposing you had four daughters, like Mr. Perkins, what would you do -with them, educationally speaking?” I said to my wife Barbara, by way -of turning my attention to the other sex. - -“You mean what would they do with me? They would drive me into my -grave, I think,” she answered. “Woman’s horizon has become so enlarged -that no mother can tell what her next daughter may not wish to do. I -understand, though, that you are referring simply to schools. To begin -with, I take for granted you will agree that American parents, who -insist on sending their boys to a public school, very often hesitate or -decline point-blank to send their girls.” - -“Precisely. And we are forthwith confronted by the question whether -they are justified in so doing.” - -Barbara looked meditative for a moment, then she said: “I am quite -aware there is no logical reason why girls should not be treated in the -same way, and yet as a matter of fact I am not at all sure, patriotism -and logic to the contrary notwithstanding, I should send a daughter to -a public school unless I were convinced, from personal examination, -that she would have neither a vulgar teacher nor vulgar associates. -Manners mean so much to a woman, and by manners I refer chiefly to -those nice perceptions of everything which stamp a lady, and which you -can no more describe than you can describe the perfume of the violet. -The objection to the public schools for a girl is that the unwritten -constitution of this country declared years ago that every woman was a -born lady, and that manners and nice perceptions were in the national -blood, and required no cultivation for their production. Latterly, a -good many people interested in educational matters have discovered -the fallacy of this point of view; so that when the name of a woman -to act as the head of a college or other first-class institution for -girls is brought forward to-day, the first question asked is, ‘Is she -a lady?’ Ten years ago mental acquirements would have been regarded -as sufficient, and the questioner silenced with the severe answer -that every American woman is a lady. The public school authorities -are still harping too much on the original fallacy, or rather the -new point of view has not spread sufficiently to cause the average -American school-teacher to suspect that her manners might be improved -and her sensibilities refined. There, that sounds like treason to the -principles of democracy, yet you know I am at heart a patriot.” - -“And yet to bring up boys on a common basis and separate the girls by -class education seems like a contradiction of terms,” I said. - -“I am confident--at least if we as a nation really do believe in -obliterating class distinctions--that it won’t be long before those -who control the public schools recognize more universally the value -of manners, and of the other traits which distinguish the woman of -breeding from the woman who has none,” said Barbara. “When that time -comes the well-to-do American mother will have no more reason for not -sending her daughters to a public school than her sons. As it is, they -should send them oftener than they do.” - -“Of course,” continued Barbara, presently, “the best private schools -are in the East, and a very much larger percentage, both of girls and -boys, attends the public schools in the West than in the East. Indeed, -I am inclined to think that comparatively few people west of Chicago -do not send their children to public schools. But, on the other hand, -there are boarding-schools for girls all over the East which are mainly -supported by girls from the West, whose mothers wish to have them -finished. They go to the public schools at home until they are thirteen -or fourteen, and then are packed off to school for three or four years -in order to teach them how to move, and wear their hair, and spell, and -control their voices--for the proper modulation of the voice has at -last been recognized as a necessary attribute of the well-bred American -woman. As for the Eastern girl who is not sent to the public school, -she usually attends a private day-school in her native city, the -resources of which are supplemented by special instruction of various -kinds, in order to produce the same finished specimen. But it isn’t -the finished specimen who is really interesting from the educational -point of view to-day; that is, the conventional, cosmopolitan, finished -specimen such as is turned out with deportment and accomplishments from -the hands of the English governess, the French Mother Superior, or the -American private school-mistress. - -“After making due allowance for the national point of view, I don’t see -very much difference in principle between the means adopted to finish -the young lady of society here and elsewhere. There are thousands of -daughters of well-to-do mothers in this country who are brought up -on the old aristocratic theory that a woman should study moderately -hard until she is eighteen, then look as pretty as she can, and devote -herself until she is married to having what is called on this side of -the Atlantic a good time. To be sure, in France the good time does not -come until after marriage, and there are other differences, but the -well-bred lady of social graces is the well-bred lady, whether it be -in London, Paris, Vienna, or New York, and a ball-room in one capital -is essentially the same as in all the others, unless it be that over -here the very young people are allowed to crowd out everybody else. -There are thousands of mothers who are content that this should be the -limit of their daughter’s experience, a reasonably good education and -perfect manners, four years of whirl, and then a husband, or no husband -and a conservative afternoon tea-drinking spinsterhood--and they are -thankful on the whole when their girls put their necks meekly beneath -the yoke of convention and do as past generations of women all over the -civilized world have done. For the reign of the unconventional society -young woman is over. She shocks now her own countrywoman even more than -foreigners; and though, like the buffalo, she is still extant, she is -disappearing even more rapidly than that illustrious quadruped.” - -“Are you not wandering slightly from the topic?” I ventured to inquire. - -“Not at all,” said Barbara. “I was stating merely that the Old-World, -New-World young lady, with all her originality and piquancy, however -charming, and however delightfully inevitable she may be, is not -interesting from the educational point of view. Or rather I will -put it in this way: the thoughtful, well-to-do American mother is -wondering hard whether she has a right to be content with the ancient -programme for her daughters, and is watching with eager interest the -experiments which some of her neighbors are trying with theirs. We -cannot claim as an exclusive national invention collegiate education -for women, and there’s no doubt that my sex in England is no less -completely on the war-path than the female world here; but is there a -question that the peculiar qualities of American womanhood are largely -responsible for the awakening wherever it has taken place? My dear, -you asked me just now what a man like Mr. Perkins should do with his -four daughters. Probably Mrs. Perkins is trying to make up her mind -whether she ought to send them to college. Very likely she is arguing -with Mr. Perkins as to whether, all things considered, it wouldn’t -be advisable to have one or two of them study a profession, or learn -to do something bread-winning, so that in case he, poor man--for he -_does_ look overworked--should not succeed in leaving them the five -thousand dollars a year he hopes, they need not swell the category -of the decayed gentlewoman of the day. I dare say they discuss the -subject assiduously, in spite of the views Mr. Perkins has expressed -to you regarding the sacredness of unemployed feminine gentility; -for it costs so much to live that he can’t lay up a great deal, and -there are certainly strong arguments in favor of giving such girls -the opportunity to make the most of themselves, or at least to look -at life from the self-supporting point of view. At first, of course, -the students at the colleges for women were chiefly girls who hoped -to utilize, as workers in various lines, the higher knowledge they -acquired there; but every year sees more and more girls, who expect -to be married sooner or later--the daughters of lawyers, physicians, -merchants--apply for admission, on the theory that what is requisite -for a man is none too good for them; and it is the example of these -girls which is agitating the serenity of so many mothers, and -suggesting to so many daughters the idea of doing likewise. Even the -ranks of the most fashionable are being invaded, though undeniably -it is still the fashion to stay at home, and I am inclined to think -that it is only the lack of the seal of fashion that restrains many -conservative people, like the Perkinses, from educating their daughters -as though they probably would not be married, instead of as though they -were almost certain to be.” - -“You may remember that Perkins assured me not long ago, that marriage -did not run in the Perkins female line,” said I. - -“All the more reason, then, that his girls should be encouraged to -equip themselves thoroughly in some direction or other, instead of -waiting disconsolately to be chosen in marriage, keeping up their -courage as the years slip away, with a few cold drops of Associated -Charity. Of course the majority of us will continue to be wives and -mothers--there is nothing equal to that when it is a success--but -will not marriage become still more desirable if the choicest girls -are educated to be the intellectual companions of men, and taught -to familiarize themselves with the real conditions of life, instead -of being limited to the rose garden of a harem, over the hedges of -which they are expected only to peep at the busy world--the world of -men, the world of action and toil and struggle and sin--the world -into which their sons are graduated when cut loose from the maternal -apron-strings? We intend to learn what to teach our sons, so that we -may no longer be silenced with the plea that women do not know, and be -put off with a secretive conjugal smile. And as for the girls who do -not marry, the world is open to them--the world of art and song and -charity and healing and brave endeavor in a hundred fields. Become just -like men? Never. If there is one thing which the educated woman of the -present is seeking to preserve and foster, it is the subtle delicacy -of nature, it is the engaging charm of womanhood which distinguishes -us from men. Who are the pupils at the colleges for women to-day? -The dowdy, sexless, unattractive, masculine-minded beings who have -served to typify for nine men out of ten the crowning joke of the -age--the emancipation of women? No; but lovely, graceful, sympathetic, -earnest, pure-minded girls in the flower of attractive maidenhood. And -that is why the well-to-do American mother is asking herself whether -she would be doing the best thing for her daughter if she were to -encourage her to become merely a New-World, Old-World young lady of the -ancient order of things. For centuries the women of civilization have -worshipped chastity, suffering resignation and elegance as the ideals -of femininity; now we mean to be intelligent besides, or at least as -nearly so as possible.” - -“In truth a philippic, Barbara,” I said. “It would seem as though Mrs. -Grundy would not be able to hold out much longer. Will you tell me, by -the way, what you women intend to do after you are fully emancipated?” - -“One thing at a time,” she answered. “We have been talking of -education, and I have simply been suggesting that no conscientious -mother can afford to ignore or pass by with scorn the claims of higher -education for girls--experimental and faulty as many of the present -methods to attain it doubtless are. As to what women are going to -do when our preliminary perplexities are solved and our sails are -set before a favorable wind, I have my ideas on that score also, and -some day I will discuss them with you. But just now I should like you -to answer _me_ a question. What are the best occupations for sons to -follow when they have left school or college?” - -Pertinent and interesting as was this inquiry of Barbara’s, I felt the -necessity of drawing a long breath before I answered it. - - - - -_Occupation._ - -I. - - -The American young man, in the selection of a vocation, is practically -cut off from two callings which are dear to his contemporaries in -other civilized countries--the Army and the Navy. The possibility of -war, with all its horrors and its opportunities for personal renown, -is always looming up before the English, French, German, or Russian -youth, who is well content to live a life of gilded martial inactivity -in the hope of sooner or later winning the cross for conspicuous -service, if he escapes a soldier’s grave. We have endured one war, -and we profoundly hope never to undergo another. Those of us who are -ethically opposed to the slaughter of thousands of human beings in a -single day by cannon, feel that we have geography on our side. Even the -bloodthirsty are forced to acknowledge that the prospects here for a -genuine contest of any kind are not favorable. Consequently, the ardor -of the son and heir, who would like to be a great soldier or a sea -captain, is very apt to be cooled by the representation that his days -would be spent in watching Indians or cattle thieves on the Western -plains, or in cruising uneventfully in the Mediterranean or the Gulf -of Mexico. At all events our standing, or, more accurately speaking, -sitting Army, and our Navy are so small, that the demand for generals -and captains is very limited. Therefore, though we commend to our sons -the prowess of Cæsar, Napoleon, Nelson, Von Moltke, and Grant, we are -able to demonstrate to them, even without recourse to modern ethical -arguments, that the opportunities for distinction on this side of the -water are likely to be very meagre. - -Also, we Americans, unlike English parents, hesitate to hold out as -offerings to the Church a younger son in every large family. We have no -national Church; moreover, the calling of a clergyman in this country -lacks the social picturesqueness which goes far, or did go far, to -reconcile the British younger son to accept the living which fell -to his lot through family influence. Then again, would the American -mother, like the conventional mother of the older civilizations, as -represented in biography and fiction, if asked which of all vocations -she would prefer to have her son adopt, reply promptly and fervidly, -“the ministry?” - -I put this question to my wife by way of obtaining an answer. She -reflected a moment, then she said, “If one of my boys really felt -called to be a clergyman, I should be a very happy woman; but I -wouldn’t on any account have one of them enter the ministry unless he -did.” This reply seems to me to express not merely the attitude of the -American mother, but also the point of view from which the American -young man of to-day is apt to look at the question. He no longer -regards the ministry as a profession which he is free to prefer, merely -because he needs to earn his daily bread; and he understands, when he -becomes a clergyman, that lukewarm or merely conventional service will -be utterly worthless in a community which is thirsty for inspirational -suggestion, but which is soul-sick of cant and the perfervid -reiteration of outworn delusions. The consciousness that he has no -closer insight into the mysteries of the universe than his fellow-men, -and the fear that he may be able to solace their doubts only by skilful -concealment of his own, is tending, here and all over the civilized -world, to deter many a young man from embracing that profession, which -once seemed to offer a safe and legitimate niche for any pious youth -who was uncertain what he wished to do for a living. Happy he who feels -so closely in touch with the infinite that he is certain of his mission -to his brother-man! But is any one more out of place than the priest -who seems to know no more than we do of what we desire to know most? -We demand that a poet should be heaven-born; why should we not require -equivalent evidence of fitness from our spiritual advisers? - -And yet, on the other hand, when the conviction of fitness or mission -exists, what calling is there which offers to-day more opportunities -for usefulness than the ministry? The growing tendency of the Church is -toward wider issues and a broader scope. Clergymen are now encouraged -and expected to aid in the solution of problems of living no less than -those of dying, and to lead in the discussion of matters regarding -which they could not have ventured to express opinions fifty years -ago without exposing themselves to the charge of being meddlesome or -unclerical. The whole field of practical charity, economics, hygiene, -and the relations of human beings to each other on this earth, are -fast becoming the legitimate domain of the Church, and the general -interest in this new phase of usefulness is serving to convince many of -the clergy themselves that the existence of so many creeds, differing -but slightly and unimportantly from one another, is a waste of vital -force and machinery. In this age of trusts, a trust of all religious -denominations for the common good of humanity would be a monopoly which -could pay large dividends without fear of hostile legislation. - -In this matter of the choice of a vocation, the case of the ambitious, -promising young man is the one which commends itself most to our -sympathies; and next to it stands that of the general utility man--the -youth who has no definite tastes or talents, and who selects his life -occupation from considerations other than a consciousness of fitness or -of natural inclination. There are here, as elsewhere, born merchants, -lawyers, doctors, clergymen, architects, engineers, inventors, and -poets, who promptly follow their natural bents without suggestion and -in the teeth of difficulties. But the promising young man in search of -a brilliant career, and the general utility man, are perhaps the best -exponents of a nation’s temper and inclination. - -In every civilization many promising youths and the general run of -utility men are apt to turn to business, for trade seems to offer the -largest return in the way of money with the least amount of special -knowledge. In this new country of ours the number of young men who have -selected a business career during the last fifty years, from personal -inclination, has been very much greater than elsewhere, and the tone -and temper of the community has swept the general utility man into mere -money making almost as a matter of course. The reasons for this up to -this time have been obvious: The resources and industries of a vast and -comparatively sparsely settled continent have been developed in the -last fifty years, and the great prizes in the shape of large fortunes -resulting from the process have naturally captivated the imagination of -ambitious youth. We have unjustly been styled a nation of shopkeepers; -but it may in all fairness be alleged that, until the last fifteen -years, we have been under the spell of the commercial and industrial -spirit, and that the intellectual faculties of the nation have been -mainly absorbed in the introduction and maintenance of railroads and -factories, in the raising and marketing of grain, in the development -of real estate enterprises, and in trading in the commodities or -securities which these various undertakings have produced. - -The resources of the country are by no means exhausted; there are -doubtless more mines to open which will make their owners superbly -rich; new discoveries in the mechanical or electrical field will afford -fresh opportunities to discerning men of means; and individual or -combined capital will continue to reap the reward of both legitimate -and over-reaching commercial acumen. But it would seem as though the -day of enormous fortunes, for men of average brains and luck, in this -country were nearly over, and that the great pecuniary prizes of the -business world would henceforth be gleaned only by extraordinary or -exceptional individuals. The country is no longer sparsely settled; -fierce competition speedily cuts the abnormal profit out of new -enterprises which are not protected by a patent; and in order to be -conspicuously successful in any branch of trade, one will have more and -more need of unusual ability and untiring application. - -In other words, though ours is still a new country, it will not be -very long before the opportunities and conditions of a business life -resemble closely those which confront young men elsewhere. As in every -civilized country, trade in some form will necessarily engage the -attention of a large portion of the population. From physical causes, -a vast majority of the citizens of the United States must continue to -derive their support from agriculture and the callings which large -crops of cereals, cotton, and sugar make occasion for. Consequently -business will always furnish occupation for a vast army of young men -in every generation, and few successes will seem more enviable than -those of the powerful and scrupulous banker, or the broad-minded and -capable railroad president. But, on the other hand, will the well-to-do -American father and mother, eager to see their promising sons make the -most of themselves, continue to advise them to go into business in -preference to other callings? And will the general utility man still be -encouraged to regard some form of trade as the most promising outlook, -for one who does not know what he wishes to do, to adopt? He who hopes -to become a great banker or illustrious railway man, must remember that -the streets of all our large cities teem with young men whose breasts -harbor similar ambitions. - -Doubtless, it was the expectation of our forefathers that our American -civilization would add new occupations to the callings inherited from -the old world, which would be alluring both to the promising young man -and the youth without predilections, and no less valuable to society -and elevating to the individual than the best of those by which men -have earned their daily bread since civilization first was. As a -matter of fact, we Americans have added just one, that of the modern -stock-broker. To be sure, I am not including the ranchman. It did seem -at one time as though we were going to add another in him--a sort of -gentleman shepherd. But be it that the cattle have become too scarce or -too numerous, be it that the demon of competition has planted his hoofs -on the farthest prairie, one by one the brave youths who went West in -search of fortune, have returned East for the last time, and abandoned -the field to the cowboys and the native settler. The pioneers in this -form of occupation made snug fortunes, but after them came a deluge -of promising or unpromising youths who branded every animal within a -radius of hundreds of miles with a letter of the alphabet. Their only -living monument is the polo pony. - -Our single and signal contribution to the callings of the world has -been the apotheosis of the stock-broker. For the last twenty-five -years, the well-to-do father and mother and their sons, in our large -cities, have been under the spell of a craze for the brokerage -business. The consciousness that the refinements of modern living -cannot adequately be supplied in a large city to a family whose income -does not approximate ten thousand dollars a year, is a cogent argument -in favor of trying to grow rich rapidly, and both the promising young -man and the general utility man welcomed the new calling with open -arms. Impelled by the notion that here was a vocation which required -no special knowledge or attainments, and very little capital, which -was pleasant, gentlemanly, and not unduly confining, and which -promised large returns almost in the twinkling of an eye, hundreds and -thousands of young men became brokers--chiefly stock-brokers, but also -cotton-brokers, note-brokers, real-estate-brokers, insurance-brokers, -and brokers in nearly everything. The field was undoubtedly a rich one -for those who first entered it. There was a need for the broker, and -he was speedily recognized as a valuable addition to the machinery of -trade. Many huge fortunes were made, and we have learned to associate -the word broker with the possession of large means, an imposing house -on a fashionable street, and diverse docked and stylish horses. - -Of course, the king of all brokers has been the stock-broker, for -to him was given the opportunity to buy and sell securities on his -own account, though he held himself out to his customers as merely a -poor thing who worked for a commission. No wonder that the young man, -just out of college, listened open-mouthed to the tales of how many -thousands of dollars a year so and so, who had been graduated only five -years before, was making, and resolved to try his luck with the same -Aladdin’s lamp. Nor was it strange that the sight of men scarcely out -of their teens, driving down town in fur coats, in their own equipages, -with the benison of successful capitalists in their salutations, -settled the question of choice for the youth who was wavering or did -not know what he wished to do. - -It is scarcely an extreme statement that the so-called aristocracy of -our principal cities to-day is largely made up of men who are, or -once were, stock-brokers, or who have made their millions by some of -the forms of gambling which our easy-going euphemism styles modern -commercial aggressiveness. Certainly, a very considerable number -of our most splendid private residences have been built out of the -proceeds of successful ventures in the stock market, or the wheat pit, -or by some other purely speculative operations. Many stars have shone -brilliantly for a season, and then plunged precipitately from the -zenith to the horizon; and much has been wisely said as to the dangers -of speculation; but the fact remains that a great many vast fortunes -owe their existence to the broker’s office; fortunes which have been -salted down, as the phrase is, and now furnish support and titillation -for a leisurely, green old age, or enable the sons and daughters of the -original maker to live in luxury. - -Whatever the American mother may feel as to her son becoming a -clergyman, there is no doubt that many a mother to-day would say -“God grant that no son of mine become a stock-broker.” I know -stock-brokers--many indeed--who are whole-souled, noble-natured men, -free from undue worldliness, and with refined instincts. But the -stock-broker, as he exists in the every-day life of our community, -typifies signally the gambler’s yearning to gain wealth by short cuts, -and the monomania which regards as pitiable those who do not possess -and display the gewgaws of feverish, fashionable materialism. There are -stock-brokers in all the great capitals of the world, but nowhere has -the vocation swallowed up the sons of the best people to the extent -that it has done here during the last thirty years. And yet, apart from -the opportunity it affords to grow rich rapidly, what one good reason -is there why a promising young man should decide to buy and sell stocks -for a living? Indeed, not merely decide, but select, that occupation as -the most desirable calling open to him? Does it tend either to ennoble -the nature or enrich the mental faculties? It is one of the formal -occupations made necessary by the exigencies of the business world, -and as such is legitimate and may be highly respectable; but surely it -does not, from the nature of the services required, deserve to rank -high; and really there would seem to be almost as much occasion for -conferring the accolade of social distinction on a dealer in excellent -fish as on a successful stock-broker. - -However, alas! it is easy enough to assign the reason why the -business has been so popular. It appears that, even under the flag -of our aspiring nationality, human nature is still so weak that -the opportunity to grow rich quickly, when presented, is apt to -over-ride all noble considerations. Foreign censors have ventured not -infrequently to declare that there was never yet a race so hungry for -money as we free-born Americans; and not even the pious ejaculation of -one of our United States Senators, “What have we to do with abroad?” -is conclusive proof that the accusation is not well founded. In fact: -there seems to be ample proof that we, who sneered so austerely at the -Faubourg St. Germain and the aristocracies of the Old World, and made -Fourth of July protestations of poverty and chastity, have fallen down -and worshipped the golden calf merely because it was made of gold. -Because it seemed to be easier to make money as stock-brokers than in -any other way, men have hastened to become stock-brokers. To be sure -it may be answered that this is only human nature and the way of the -world. True, perhaps; except that we started on the assumption that we -were going to improve on the rest of the world, and that its human -nature was not to be our human nature. Would not the Faubourg St. -Germain be preferable to an aristocracy of stock-brokers? - -At all events, the law of supply and demand is beginning to redeem -the situation, and, if not to restore our moral credit, at least -to save the rising generation from falling into the same slough. -The stock-broker industry has been overstocked, and the late young -capitalists in fur overcoats, with benedictory manners, wear anxious -countenances under the stress of that Old World demon, excessive -competition. Youth can no longer wake up in the morning and find -itself the proprietor of a rattling business justifying a steam-yacht -and a four-in-hand. The good old days have gone forever, and there is -weeping and gnashing of teeth where of late there was joy and much -accumulation. There is not business enough for all the promising young -men who are stock-brokers already, and the youth of promise must turn -elsewhere. - - - - -_Occupation._ - -II. - - -But though the occupation of broker has become less tempting, the -promising youth has not ceased to look askance at any calling which -does not seem to foreshadow a fortune in a short time. He is only -just beginning to appreciate that we are getting down to hard pan, -so to speak, and are nearly on a level, as regards the hardships of -individual progress, with our old friends the effete civilizations. -He finds it difficult to rid himself of the “Arabian Nights’” notion -that he has merely to clap his hands to change ten dollars into a -thousand in a single year, and to transform his bachelor apartments -into a palace beautiful, with a wife, yacht, and horses, before he -is thirty-five. He shrinks from the idea of being obliged to take -seriously into account anything less than a hundred-dollar bill, and -of earning a livelihood by slow yet persistent acceptance of tens and -fives. His present ruling ambition is to be a promoter; that is, to be -an organizer of schemes, and to let others do the real work and attend -to the disgusting details. There are a great many gentry of this kind -in the field just at present. Among them is, or rather was, Lewis Pell, -as I will call him for the occasion. I don’t know exactly what he is -doing now. But he was, until lately, a promoter. - -A handsome fellow was Lewis Pell. Tall, gentlemanly, and -athletic-looking, with a gracious, imposing presence and manner, which -made his rather commonplace conversation seem almost wisdom. He went -into a broker’s office after leaving college, like many other promising -young men of his time, but he was clever enough either to realize -that he was a little late, or that the promoter business offered a -more promising scope for his genius, for he soon disappeared from the -purlieus of the Stock Exchange, and the next thing we heard of him -was as the tenant of an exceedingly elaborate set of offices on the -third floor of a most expensive modern monster building. Shortly after -I read in the financial columns of the daily press that Mr. Lewis -Pell had sold to a syndicate of bankers the first mortgage and the -debenture bonds of the Light and Power Traction Company, an electrical -corporation organized under the laws of the State of New Jersey. Thirty -days later I saw again that he had sailed for Europe in order to -interest London capital in a large enterprise, the nature of which was -still withheld from the public. - -During the next two or three years I ran across Pell on several -occasions. He seemed always to be living at the highest pressure, -but the brilliancy of his career had not impaired his good manners -or attractiveness. I refer to his career as brilliant at this time -because both his operations and the consequent style of living which -he pursued, as described by him on two different evenings when I -dined with him, seemed to me in my capacity of ordinary citizen to -savor of the marvellous, if not the supernatural. He frankly gave me -to understand that it seemed to him a waste of time for an ambitious -man to pay attention to details, and that his business was to -originate vast undertakings, made possible only by large combinations -of corporate or private capital. The word combination, which was -frequently on his lips, seemed to be the corner-stone of his system. I -gathered that the part which he sought to play in the battle of life -was to breathe the breath, or the apparent breath, of existence into -huge schemes, and after having given them a quick but comprehensive -squeeze or two for his own pecuniary benefit, to hand them over to -syndicates, or other aggregations of capitalists, for the benefit of -whom they might concern. He confided to me that he employed eleven -typewriters; that he had visited London seven, and Paris three times, -in the last three years, on flying trips to accomplish brilliant deals; -that though his headquarters were in New York, scarcely a week passed -in which he was not obliged to run over to Chicago, Boston, Washington, -Denver, Duluth, or Cincinnati, as the case might be. Without being -boastful as to his profits, he did not hesitate to acknowledge to me -that if he should do as well in the next three years as in the last, he -would be able to retire from business with a million or so. - -Apart from this confession, his personal extravagance left no room for -doubt that he must be very rich. Champagne flowed for him as Croton -or Cochituate for most of us, and it was evident from his language -that the hiring of special trains from time to time was a rather less -serious matter than it would be for the ordinary citizen to take a -cab. The account that he gave of three separate entertainments he -had tendered to syndicates--of ten, twelve, and seventeen covers -respectively, at twenty dollars a cover--fairly made my mouth water and -my eyes stick out, so that I felt constrained to murmur, “Your profits -must certainly be very large, if you can afford that sort of thing.” - -Pell smiled complacently and a little condescendingly. “I could -tell you of things which I have done which would make that seem a -bagatelle,” he answered, with engaging mystery. Then after a moment’s -pause he said, “Do you know, my dear fellow, that when I was graduated -I came very near going into the office of a pious old uncle of mine who -has been a commission merchant all his life, and is as poor as Job’s -turkey in spite of it all--that is, poor as men are rated nowadays. He -offered to take me as a clerk at one thousand dollars a year, with the -promise of a partnership before I was bald-headed in case I did well. -Supposing I had accepted his offer, where should I be to-day? Grubbing -at an office-desk and earning barely enough for board and lodging. I -remember my dear mother took it terribly to heart because I went into a -broker’s office instead. By the way, between ourselves, I’m building a -steam-yacht--nothing very wonderful, but a neat, comfortable craft--and -I’m looking forward next summer to inviting my pious old uncle to -cruise on her just to see him open his eyes.” - -That was three years ago, and to-day I have every reason to believe -that Lewis Pell is without a dollar in the world, or rather, that every -dollar which he has belongs to his creditors. I had heard before his -failure was announced that he was short of money, for the reason that -several enterprises with which his name was connected had been left on -his hands--neither the syndicates nor the public would touch them--so -his suspension was scarcely a surprise. He at present, poor fellow, -is only one of an army of young men wandering dejectedly through the -streets of New York or Chicago in these days of financial depression, -vainly seeking for something to promote. - -When the promising youth and the general utility man do get rid of the -“Arabian Nights’” notion, and recognize that signal success here, in -any form, is likely to become more and more difficult to attain, and -will be the legitimate reward only of men of real might, of unusual -abilities, originality, or dauntless industry, some of the callings -which have fallen, as it were, into disrepute through their lack of -gambling facilities, are likely to loom up again socially. It may be, -however, that modern business methods and devices have had the effect -of killing for all time that highly respectable pillar of society of -fifty years ago, the old-fashioned merchant, who bought and sold on -his own behalf, or on commission, real cargoes of merchandise, and -real consignments of cotton, wheat, and corn. The telegraph and the -warehouse certificate have worked such havoc that almost everything -now is bought and sold over and over again before it is grown or -manufactured, and by the time it is on the market there is not a shred -of profit in it for anybody but the retail dealer. It remains to be -seen whether, as the speculative spirit subsides, the merchant is going -to reinstate himself and regain his former prestige. It may already be -said that the promising youth does not regard him with quite so much -contempt as he did. - -We have always professed in this country great theoretical respect -for the schoolmaster, but we have been careful, as the nation waxed -in material prosperity, to keep his pay down and to shove him into -the social background more and more. The promising youth could not -afford to spend his manhood in this wise, and we have all really been -too busy making money to think very much about those who are doing -the teaching. Have we not always heard it stated that our schools -and colleges are second to none in the world? And if our schools, of -course our schoolmasters. Therefore why bother our heads about them? -It is indeed wonderful, considering the little popular interest in the -subject until lately, that our schoolmasters and our college professors -are so competent as they are, and that the profession has flourished on -the whole in spite of indifference and superiority. How can men of the -highest class be expected to devote their lives to a profession which -yields little more than a pittance when one is thoroughly successful? -And yet the education of our children ought to be one of our dearest -concerns, and it is difficult to see why the State is satisfied to pay -the average instructor or instructress of youth about as much as the -city laborer or a horse-car conductor receives. - -There are signs that those in charge of our large educational -institutions all over the country are beginning to recognize that ripe -scholarship and rare abilities as a teacher are entitled to be well -recompensed pecuniarily, and that the breed of such men is likely to -increase somewhat in proportion to the size and number of the prizes -offered. Our college presidents and professors, those at the head of -our large schools and seminaries, should receive such salaries as will -enable them to live adequately. By this policy not only would our -promising young men be encouraged to pursue learning, but those in the -highest places would not be forced by poverty to live in comparative -retirement, but could become active social figures and leaders. In any -profession or calling under present social conditions only those in the -foremost rank can hope to earn more than a living, varying in quality -according to the degree of success and the rank of the occupation; but -it is to be hoped--and there seems some reason to believe--that the -great rewards which come to those more able and industrious than their -fellows will henceforth, in the process of our national evolution, -be more evenly distributed, and not confined so conspicuously to -gambling, speculative, or commercial successes. The leaders in the -great professions of law and medicine have for some time past declined -to serve the free-born community without liberal compensation, and the -same community, which for half a century secretly believed that only a -business man has the right to grow rich, has begun to recognize that -there are even other things besides litigation and health which ought -to come high. For instance, although the trained architect still meets -serious and depressing competition from those ready-made experimenters -in design who pronounce the first _c_ in the word architect as though -it were an _s_, the public is rapidly discovering that a man cannot -build an attractive house without special knowledge. - -In the same class with the law, medicine, and architecture, and -seemingly offering at present a greater scope for an ambitious -young man, is engineering in all its branches. The furnaces, mines, -manufactories, and the hydraulic, electrical, or other plants connected -with the numerous vast mechanical business enterprises of the country -are furnishing immediate occupation for hundreds of graduates of the -scientific or polytechnic schools at highly respectable salaries. -This field of usefulness is certain for a long time to come to offer -employment and a fair livelihood to many, and large returns to those -who outstrip their contemporaries. More and more is the business man, -the manufacturer, and the capitalist likely to be dependent for the -economical or successful development and management of undertakings on -the judgment of scientific experts in his own employment or called in -to advise, and it is only meet that the counsel given should be paid -for handsomely. - -Those who pursue literature or art in their various branches in this -country, and have talents in some degree commensurate with their -ambition, are now generally able to make a comfortable livelihood. -Indeed the men and women in the very front rank are beginning to -receive incomes which would be highly satisfactory to a leading lawyer -or physician. Of course original work in literature or art demands -special ability and fitness, but the general utility man is beginning -to have many opportunities presented to him in connection with what -may be called the clerical work of these professions. The great -magazines and publishing houses have an increasing need for trained, -scholarly men, for capable critics, and discerning advisers in the -field both of letter-press and illustration. Another calling which -seems to promise great possibilities both of usefulness and income to -those who devote themselves to it earnestly is the comparatively new -profession of journalism. The reporter, with all his present horrors, -is in the process of evolution; but the journalist is sure to remain -the high-priest of democracy. His influence is almost certain to -increase materially, but it will not increase unless he seeks to lead -public thought instead of bowing to it. The newspaper, in order to -flourish, must be a moulder of opinion, and to accomplish this those -who control its columns must more and more be men of education, force, -and high ideals. Competition will winnow here as elsewhere, but those -who by ability and industry win the chief places will stand high in the -community and command large pay for their services. - -An aristocracy of brains--that is to say, an aristocracy composed of -individuals successful and prominent in their several callings--seems -to be the logical sequence of our institutions under present social -and industrial conditions. The only aristocracy which can exist in a -democracy is one of honorable success evidenced by wealth or a handsome -income, but the character of such an aristocracy will depend on the -ambitions and tastes of the nation. The inevitable economic law of -supply and demand governs here as elsewhere, and will govern until such -a time as society may be reconstructed on an entirely new basis. Only -the leaders in any vocation can hope to grow rich, but in proportion as -the demands of the nation for what is best increase will the type and -characteristics of these leaders improve. The doing away with inherited -orders of nobility and deliberate, patented class distinctions, gives -the entire field to wealth. We boast proudly that no artificial -barriers confine individual social promotion; but we must remember at -the same time that those old barriers meant more than the perpetuation -of perfumed ladies and idle gentlemen from century to century. We are -too apt to forget that the aristocracies of the old world signified -in the first place a process of selection. The kings and the nobles, -the lords and the barons, the knights who fought and the ladies for -whom they died, were the master-spirits of their days and generations, -the strong arms and the strong brains of civilized communities. They -stood for force, the force of the individual who was more intelligent, -more capable, and mightier in soul and body than his neighbors, and -who claimed the prerogatives of superiority on that account. These -master-spirits, it is true, used these prerogatives in such a manner as -to crystallize society into the classes and the masses, so hopelessly -for the latter that the gulf between them still is wide as an ocean, -notwithstanding that present nobilities have been shorn of their power -so that they may be said to exist chiefly by sufferance. And yet the -world is still the same in that there are men more intelligent, more -capable, and mightier in soul and body than their fellows. The leaders -of the past won their spurs by prowess with the battle-axe and spear, -by wise counsel in affairs of state, by the sheer force of their -superior manhood. The gentleman and lady stood for the best blood of -the world, though they so often belied it by their actions. - -We, who are accustomed to applaud our civilization as the hope of the -world, may well look across the water and take suggestions from the -institutions of Great Britain, not with the idea of imitation, but with -a view to consider the forces at work there. For nearly a century now -the government, though in form a monarchy, has been substantially a -constitutional republic, imbued with inherited traditions and somewhat -galvanized by class distinctions, but nevertheless a constitutional -republic. The nobility still exists as a sort of French roof or -Eastern pagoda to give a pleasing appearance to the social edifice. -The hereditary meaning of titles has been so largely negatived by -the introduction of new blood--the blood of the strongest men of the -period--that they have become, what they originally were, badges -to distinguish the men most valuable to the State. Their abolition -is merely a question of time, and many of the leaders to whom they -are proffered reject them as they would a cockade or a yellow satin -waistcoat. On the other hand, and here is the point of argument, -the real aristocracy of England for the last hundred years has been -an aristocracy of the foremost, ablest, and worthiest men of the -nation, and with few exceptions the social and pecuniary rewards have -been bestowed both by the State and by public appreciation on the -master-spirits of the time in the best sense. Brilliant statesmanship, -wisdom on the bench, the surgeon’s skill, the banker’s sound -discernment, genius in literature and art, when signally contributed by -the individual, have won him fame and fortune. - -It may be said, perhaps, that the pecuniary rewards of science and -literature have been less conspicuous than those accorded to other -successes, but that has been due to the inherent practical temperament -and artistic limitations of the Englishman, and can scarcely be an -argument against the contention that English society in the nineteenth -century, with all its social idiosyncrasies, has really been graded on -the order of merit. - -The tide of democracy has set in across the water and is running -strongly, and there can be no doubt that the next century is likely to -work great and strange changes in the conditions of society in England -as well as here. The same questions practically are presented to each -nation, except that there a carefully constructed and in many respects -admirable system of society is to be disintegrated. We are a new -country, and we have a right to be hopeful that we are sooner or later -to outstrip all civilizations. Nor is it a blemish that the astonishing -development of our material resources has absorbed the energies of -our best blood. But it now remains to be seen whether the standards -of pure democracy, without traditions or barriers to point the way, -are to justify the experiment and improve the race. The character of -our aristocracy will depend on the virtues and tastes of the people, -and the struggle is to be between aspiration and contentment with low -ambitions. Our original undertaking has been made far more difficult -by the infusion of the worst blood in Christendom, the lees of foreign -nations; but the result of the experiment will be much more convincing -because of this change in conditions. - -Who are to be the men of might and heroes of democracy? That will -depend on the demands and aspirations of the enfranchised people. -With all its imperfections, the civilization of the past has fostered -the noble arts and stirred genius to immortalize itself in bronze -and marble, in cathedral spires, in masterpieces of painting and -literature, in untiring scholarship, in fervent labors in law, -medicine, and science. Democracy must care for these things, and -encourage the individual to choose worthy occupations, or society -will suffer. We hope and believe that, in the long run, the standards -of humanity will be raised rather than lowered by the lifting of the -flood-gates which divide the privileged classes from the mass; but -it behooves us all to remember that while demand and supply must be -the leading arbiters in the choice of a vocation, the responsibility -of selection is left to each individual. Only by the example of -individuals will society be saved from accepting the low, vulgar -aims and ambitions of the mass as a desirable weal, and this is the -strongest argument against the doctrines of those who would repress -individuality for the alleged benefit of mankind as a whole. The past -has given us many examples of the legislator who cannot be bribed, of -the statesman faithful to principle, of the student who disdains to be -superficial, of the gentleman who is noble in thought, and speech and -action, and they stand on the roll of the world’s great men. Democracy -cannot afford not to continue to add to this list, and either she must -steel her countenance against the cheap man and his works, or sooner -or later be confounded. Was Marie Antoinette a more dangerous enemy -of the people than the newspaper proprietor who acquires fortune by -catering to the lowest tastes and prejudices of the public, or the -self-made capitalist who argues that every man has his price, and seeks -to accomplish legislation by bribery? - - - - -The _Use of Time_. - -I. - - -I brought Rogers home with me again the other day. I do not mean -Rogers in the flesh; but the example of Rogers as a bogy with which to -confound my better half and myself. You may recall that Rogers is the -book-keeper for Patterson the banker, and that he has brought up and -educated a family on a salary of twenty-two hundred dollars a year. - -“Barbara,” said I, “we were reflecting yesterday that we never have -time to do the things we really wish to do. Have you ever considered -how Rogers spends his time?” - -My wife admitted that she had not, and she dutifully waited for me to -proceed, though I could tell from the expression of her mouth that -she did not expect to derive much assistance from the example of Mr. -Rogers. Therefore I made an interesting pathological deduction to begin -with. - -“Rogers does not live on his nerves from one year’s end to the other, -as we do.” - -“I congratulate him,” said Barbara, with a sigh. - -“And yet,” I continued, “he leads a highly respectable and fairly -interesting life. He gets up at precisely the same hour every morning, -has his breakfast, reads the paper, and is at his desk punctually on -time. He dines frugally, returns to his desk until half-past four or -five, and after performing any errands which Mrs. Rogers has asked him -to attend to, goes home to the bosom of his family. There he exchanges -his coat and boots for a dressing-gown, or aged smoking-jacket, and -slippers, and remains by his fireside absorbed in the evening paper -until tea-time. Conversation with the members of his family beguiles -him for half an hour after the completion of the meal; then he settles -down to the family weekly magazine, or plays checkers or backgammon -with his wife or daughters. After a while, if he is interested in -ferns or grasses, he looks to see how his specimens are growing under -the glass case in the corner. He pats the cat and makes sure that the -canary is supplied with seed. Now and then he brings home a puzzle, -like ‘Pigs in Clover,’ which keeps him up half an hour later than -usual, but ordinarily his head is nodding before the stroke of ten -warns him that his bed-hour has come. And just at the time that the -wife of his employer, Patterson, may be setting out for a ball, he is -tucking himself up in bed by the side of Mrs. Rogers.” - -“Poor man!” interjected Barbara. - -“He has his diversions,” said I. “Now and again neighbors drop in for -a chat, and the evening is wound up with a pitcher of lemonade and -angel-cake. He and his wife drop in, in their turn, or he goes to a -political caucus. Once a fortnight comes the church sociable, and every -now and then a wedding. From time to time he and Mrs. Rogers attend -lectures. His young people entertain their friends, as the occasion -offers, in a simple way, and on Sunday he goes to church in the morning -and falls to sleep after a heavy dinner in the afternoon. He leads a -quiet, peaceful, conservative existence, unharassed by social functions -and perpetual excitement.” - -“And he prides himself, I dare say,” said Barbara, “on the score of its -virtuousness. He saves his nerves and he congratulates himself that -he is not a society person, as he calls it. Your Mr. Rogers may be a -very estimable individual, dear, in his own sphere, and I do think he -manages wonderfully on his twenty-two hundred dollars a year; but I -should prefer to see you lose your nerves and become a gibbering victim -of nervous prostration rather than that you should imitate him.” - -“I’m not proposing to imitate him, Barbara,” I answered, gravely. “I -admit that his life seems rather dull and not altogether inspiring, -but I do think that a little of his repose would be beneficial to many -of us whose interests are more varied. We might borrow it to advantage -for a few months in the year, don’t you think so? I believe, Barbara, -that if you and I were each of us to lie flat on our backs for one -hour every day and think of nothing--and not even clinch our hands--we -should succeed in doing more things than we really wish to do.” - -“I suppose it’s the climate--they say it’s the climate,” said Barbara, -pensively. “Foreigners don’t seem to be affected in that way. They’re -not always in a hurry as we are, and yet they seem to accomplish -very nearly as much. We all know what it is to be conscious of that -dreadful, nervous, hurried feeling, even when we have plenty of time -to do the things we have to do. I catch myself walking fast--racing, -in fact--when there is not the least need of it. I don’t clinch my -hands nearly so much as I used, and I’ve ceased to hold on to the -pillow in bed as though it were a life-preserver, out of deference to -Delsarte, but when it comes to lying down flat on my back for an hour -a day--every day--really it isn’t feasible. It’s an ideal plan, I dare -say, but the days are not long enough. Just take to-day, for instance, -and tell me, please, when I had time to lie down.” - -“You are clinching your hands now,” I remarked. - -“Because you have irritated me with your everlasting Mr. Rogers,” -retorted Barbara. She examined, nevertheless, somewhat dejectedly, the -marks of her nails in her palms. “In the morning, for instance, when I -came down to breakfast there was the mail. Two dinner invitations and -an afternoon tea; two sets of wedding-cards, and a notice of a lecture -by Miss Clara Hatheway on the relative condition of primary schools -here and abroad; requests for subscriptions to the new Cancer Hospital -and the Children’s Fresh Air and Vacation Fund; an advertisement of an -after-holiday sale of boys’ and girls’ clothes at Halliday’s; a note -from Mrs. James Green asking particulars regarding our last cook, -and a letter from the President of my Woman’s Club notifying me that -I was expected to talk to them at the next meeting on the arguments -in favor of and against the ownership by cities and towns of gas and -water-works. All these had to be answered, noted, or considered. Then -I had to interview the cook and the butcher and the grocer about the -dinner, give orders that a button should be sewn on one pair of your -trousers and a stain removed from another, and give directions to -the chore-man to oil the lock of the front-door, and tell him to go -post-haste for the plumber to extract the blotting-paper which the -children yesterday stuffed down the drain-pipe in the bath-tub, so -that the water could not escape. Then I had to sit down and read the -newspaper. Not because I had time, or wished to, but to make sure -that there was nothing in it which you could accuse me of not having -read. After this I dressed to go out. I stopped at the florist’s to -order some roses for Mrs. Julius Cæsar, whose mother is dead; at -Hapgood & Wales’s and at Jones’s for cotton-batting, hooks and eyes, -and three yards of ribbon; at Belcher’s for an umbrella to replace -mine, which you left in the cable-cars, and at the library to select -something to read. I arrived home breathless for the children’s -dinner, and immediately afterward I dressed and went to the meeting -of the Executive Committee of the Woman’s Club, stopping on the way -to inquire if Mrs. Wilson’s little boy were better. We started by -discussing a proposed change in our Constitution regarding the number -of black-balls necessary to exclude a candidate, and drifted off on to -‘Trilby.’ It was nearly five when I got away, and as I felt it on my -conscience to go both to Mrs. Southwick’s and Mrs. Williams’s teas, -I made my appearance at each for a few minutes, but managed to slip -away so as to be at home at six. When you came in I had just been -reading to the children and showing them about their lessons. Now I -have only just time to dress for dinner, for we dine at the Gregory -Browns, at half-past seven. We ought to go later to the reception at -Mrs. Hollis’s--it is her last of three and we haven’t been yet--but I -suppose you will say you are too tired. There! will you tell me when I -could have found time to lie down for an hour to-day?” - -I was constrained to laugh at my wife’s recital, and I was not able at -the moment to point out to her exactly what she might have omitted from -her category so as to make room for the hour of repose. Nor, indeed, as -I review the events of my own daily life and of the daily lives of my -friends and acquaintances, am I able to define precisely where it could -be brought in. And yet are we not--many of us who are in the thick of -modern life--conscious that our days are, as it were, congested? We -feel sure that so far as our physical comfort is concerned we ought -to be doing less, and we shrewdly suspect that, if we had more time -in which to think, our spiritual natures would be the gainers. The -difficulty is to stop, or rather to reduce the speed of modern living -to the point at which these high-pressure nervous symptoms disappear, -and the days cease to seem too short for what we wish to accomplish. -Perhaps those who take an intense interest in living will never be able -to regain that delightful condition of equipoise, if it ever existed, -which our ancestors both here and across the water are said to have -experienced. Perhaps, too, our ancestors were more in a hurry when they -were alive than they seem to have been now that they are dead; but, -whether this be true or otherwise, we are confidently told by those -who ought to know that we Americans of this day and generation are -the most restless, nervous people under the sun, and live at a higher -pressure than our contemporaries of the effete civilizations. It used -to be charged that we were in such haste to grow rich that there was -no health in us; and now that we are, or soon will be, the wealthiest -nation in the world, they tell us that we continue to maintain the same -feverish pace in all that we undertake or do. - -I am not sure that this charge could not be brought against the -Englishman, Frenchman, or German of to-day with almost equal justice, -or, in other words, that it is a characteristic of the age rather than -of our nation; but that conviction would merely solace our pride and -could not assuage “that tired feeling” of which so many are conscious. -At all events, if we do not work harder than our kinsmen across the -sea, we seem to bear the strain less well. It may be the climate, -as my wife has said, which causes our nervous systems to rebel; but -then, again, we cannot change the climate, and consequently must adapt -ourselves to its idiosyncrasies. - -Ever since we first began to declare that we were superior to all -other civilizations we have been noted for our energy. The way in -which we did everything, from sawing wood to electing a President, was -conspicuous by virtue of the bustling, hustling qualities displayed. -But it is no longer high treason to state that our national life, -in spite of its bustle, was, until comparatively recently, lacking -in color and variety. The citizen who went to bed on the stroke of -ten every night and did practically the same thing each day from one -year’s end to the other was the ideal citizen of the Republic, and -was popularly described as a conservative and a strong man. His life -was led within very repressed limits, and anything more artistic than -a chromo or religious motto was apt to irritate him and shock his -principles. To be sure, we had then our cultivated class--more narrowly -but possibly more deeply cultivated than its flourishing successor -of to-day--but the average American, despite his civic virtues and -consciousness of rectitude, led a humdrum existence, however hustling -or bustling. There is a large percentage of our population that -continues to live in much the same manner, notwithstanding the wave of -enlightenment which has swept over the country and keyed us all up -to concert pitch by multiplying the number of our interests. I feel a -little guilty in having included Rogers among this number, for I really -know of my own knowledge nothing about his individual home life. It -may be that I have been doing him a rank injustice, and that his home -is in reality a seething caldron of progress. I referred to him as a -type rather than as an individual, knowing as I do that there are still -too many homes in this country where music, art, literature, social -tastes, and intelligent interest in human affairs in the abstract, when -developed beyond mere rudimentary lines, are unappreciated and regarded -as vanities or inanities. - -On the other hand, there is nothing more interesting in our present -national evolution than the eager recognition by the intelligent and -aspiring portion of the people that we have been and are ignorant, -and that the true zest of life lies in its many-sidedness and its -possibilities of development along æsthetic, social, and intellectual -as well as moral lines. The United States to-day is fairly bristling -with eager, ambitious students, and with people of both sexes, young -and middle-aged, who are anxiously seeking how to make the most of -life. This eagerness of soul is not confined to any social class, -and is noticeable in every section of the country in greater or less -degree. It is quite as likely to be found among people of very humble -means as among those whose earliest associations have brought them -into contact with the well-to-do and carefully educated. Therefore I -beg the pardon of Rogers in case I have put him individually in the -wrong category. A divine yet cheery activity has largely taken the -place of sodden self-righteousness on the one hand, and analytical -self-consciousness on the other. The class is not as yet very large as -compared with the entire population of the country, but it is growing -rapidly, and its members are the most interesting men and women of the -Republic--those who are in the van of our development as a people. - -Overcrowded and congested lives signify at least earnestness and -absorption. Human nature is more likely to aspire and advance -when society is nervously active, than when it is bovine and -self-congratulatory. But nerves can endure only a certain amount of -strain without reminding human beings that strong and healthy bodies -are essential to true national progress. Only recently in this country -have we learned to consider the welfare of the body, and though -we have begun to be deadly in earnest about athletics, the present -generation of workers was, for the most part, brought up on the theory -that flesh and blood was a limitation rather than a prerequisite. -We are doing bravely in this matter so far as the education of our -children is concerned, but it is too late to do much for our own -nerves. Though stagnation is a more deplorable state, it behooves us, -nevertheless, if possible, to rid ourselves of congestion for our -ultimate safety. - -An active man or woman stopping to think in the morning may well -be appalled at the variety of his or her life. The ubiquity of the -modern American subconsciousness is something unique. We wish to -know everything there is to know. We are interested not merely in -our own and our neighbors’ affairs--with a knowledge of which so -many citizens of other lands are peacefully contented--but we are -eager to know, and to know with tolerable accuracy, what is going -on all over the world--in England, China, Russia, and Australia. -Not merely politically, but socially, artistically, scientifically, -philosophically, and ethically. No subject is too technical for our -interest, provided it comes in our way, whether it concern the canals -in Mars or the antitoxin germ. The newspaper and the telegraph have -done much to promote this ubiquity of the mind’s eye all over the -world, but the interests of the average American are much wider and -more diversified than those of any other people. An Englishman will -have his hobbies and know them thoroughly, but regarding affairs beyond -the pale of his limited inquiry he is deliberately and often densely -ignorant. He reads, and reads augustly, one newspaper, one or two -magazines--a few books; we, on the other hand, are not content unless -we stretch out feelers in many directions and keep posted, as we call -it, by hasty perusals of almost innumerable publications for fear lest -something escape us. What does the Frenchman--the average intelligent -Frenchman--know or care about the mode of our Presidential elections, -and whether this Republican or that Democrat has made or marred his -political reputation? We feel that we require to inform ourselves not -only concerning the art and literature of France, but to have the names -and doings of her statesmen at our fingers’ ends for use in polite -conversation, and the satisfaction of the remains of the New England -conscience. All this is highly commendable, if it does not tend to -render us superficial. The more knowledge we have, the better, provided -we do not fall into the slough of knowing nothing very well, or hunt -our wits to death by over-acquisitiveness. There is so much nowadays -to learn, and seemingly so little time in which to learn it, we cannot -afford to spread ourselves too thin. - -The energy of our people has always been conspicuous in the case of -women. The American woman, from the earliest days of our history, -has refused to be prevented by the limitations of time or physique -from trying to include the entire gamut of human feminine activity in -her daily experience. There was a period when she could demonstrate -successfully her ability to cook, sweep, rear and educate children, -darn her husband’s stockings, and yet entertain delightfully, dress -tastefully, and be well versed in literature and all the current -phases of high thinking. The New England woman of fifty years ago was -certainly an interesting specimen from this point of view, in spite -of her morbid conscience and polar sexual proclivities. But among -the well-to-do women of the nation to-day--the women who correspond -socially to those just described--this achievement is possible only by -taxing the human system to the point of distress, except in the newly -or thinly settled portions of the country, where the style of living is -simple and primitive. - -In the East, of course, in the cities and towns the women in question -ceased long ago to do all the housework; and among the well-to-do, -servants have relieved her of much, if not of all of the physical -labor. But, on the other hand, the complexities of our modern -establishments, and the worry which her domestics cause her, make the -burden of her responsibilities fully equal to what they were when she -cooked flap-jacks and darned stockings herself. In other countries -the women conversant with literature, art, and science, who go in for -philanthropy, photography, or the ornamentation of china, who write -papers on sociological or educational matters, are, for the most part, -women of leisure in other respects. The American woman is the only -woman at large in the universe who aims to be the wife and mother of a -family, the mistress of an establishment, a solver of world problems, a -social leader, and a philanthropist or artistic devotee at one and the -same time. Each of these interests has its determined followers among -the women of other civilizations, but nowhere except here does the -eternal feminine seek to manifest itself in so many directions in the -same individual. - -This characteristic of our womanhood is a virtue up to a certain point. -The American woman has certainly impressed her theory that her sex -should cease to be merely pliant, credulous, and ignorantly complacent -so forcibly on the world that society everywhere has been affected -by it. Her desire to make the most of herself, and to participate -as completely as possible in the vital work of the world without -neglecting the duties allotted to her by the older civilizations, -is in the line of desirable evolution. But there is such a thing as -being superficial, which is far more to be dreaded than even nervous -prostration. Those absorbed in the earnest struggle of modern living -may perhaps justly claim that to work until one drops is a noble fault, -and that disregard of one’s own sensations and comfort is almost -indispensable in order to accomplish ever so little. But there is -nothing noble in superficiality; and it would seem that the constant -flitting from one interest to another, which so many American women -seem unable to avoid, must necessarily tend to prevent them from -knowing or doing anything thoroughly. - -As regards the creature man, the critics of this country have been -accustomed to assert that he was so much absorbed in making money, or -in business, as our popular phrase is, that he had no time for anything -else. This accusation used to be extraordinarily true, and in certain -parts of the country it has not altogether ceased to be true; though -even there the persistent masculine dollar-hunter regards wistfully -and proudly the æsthetic propensities of the female members of his -family, and feels that his labors are sweetened thereby. This is a -very different attitude from the self-sufficiency of half a century -ago. The difficulty now is that our intelligent men, like our women, -are apt to attempt too much, inclined to crowd into each and every day -more sensations than they can assimilate. An Englishwoman, prominent -in educational matters, and intelligent withal, recently expressed her -surprise to my wife, Barbara, that the American gentleman existed. -She had been long familiar with the American woman as a charming, -if original, native product, but she had never heard of the American -gentleman--meaning thereby the alert, thoughtful man of high purposes -and good-breeding. “How many there are!” the Briton went on to say in -the enthusiasm of her surprise. Indeed there are. The men prominent in -the leading walks of life all over this country now compare favorably, -at least, with the best of other nations, unless it be that our intense -desire to know everything has rendered, or may render, us accomplished -rather than profound. - - - - -The _Use of Time_. - -II. - - -After all, whether this suggestion of a tendency toward superficiality -be well founded or not, the proper use of time has come to be a more -serious problem than ever for the entire world. The demands of modern -living are so exacting that men and women everywhere must exercise -deliberate selection in order to live wisely. To lay down general -rules for the use of time would be as futile as to insist that every -one should use coats of the same size and color, and eat the same kind -and quantity of food. The best modern living may perhaps be correctly -defined as a happy compromise in the aims and actions of the individual -between self-interest and altruism. - -If one seeks to illustrate this definition by example it is desirable -in the first place to eliminate the individuals in the community whose -use of time is so completely out of keeping with this doctrine that it -is not worth while to consider them. Murderers, forgers, and criminals -of all kinds, including business men who practise petty thefts, -and respectable tradesmen who give short weight and overcharge, -instinctively occur to us. So do mere pleasure-seekers, drunkards, and -idle gentlemen. On the same theory we must exclude monks, deliberate -celibates, nuns, and all fanatical or eccentric persons whose conduct -of life, however serviceable in itself as a leaven or an exception, -could not be generally imitated without disaster to society. It would -seem also as though we must exclude those who have yet to acquire -such elemental virtues of wise living as cleanliness, reverence for -the beautiful, and a certain amount of altruism. There is nothing -to learn as to the wise use of time from those whose conceptions of -life are handicapped by the habitual use of slang and bad grammar and -by untidiness; who regard the manifestations of good taste and fine -scholarship as “frills,” and who, though they be unselfish in the -bosoms of their families, take no interest in the general welfare of -the community. - -Let me in this last connection anticipate the criticism of the -sentimentalist and of the free-born American who wears a chip on his -shoulder, by stating that time may be as beautifully and wisely spent, -and life be as noble and serviceable to humanity in the home of the -humblest citizen as in that of the well-to-do or rich. Of course -it may. Who questions it? Did I not, in order not even to seem to -doubt it, take back all I hazarded about the manner in which Rogers -spends his time? It _may_ be just as beautifully and wisely spent, and -very often is so. But, on the other hand, I suggest, timorously and -respectfully, that it very often is not, and I venture further to ask -whether the burden is not on democracy to show that the plain life of -the plain people as at present conducted is a valuable example of wise -and improving use of time? The future is to account for itself, and we -all have faith in democracy. We are all plain people in this country. -But just as a passing inquiry, uttered not under my breath, yet without -levity or malice, what is the contribution so far made by plainness as -plainness to the best progress of the world? Absolutely nothing, it -seems to me. Progress has come from the superiority of individuals in -every class of life to the mass of their contemporaries. The so-called -plainness of the plain people too often serves at the present day as -an influence to drag down the aspiring individual to the dead level of -the mass which contents itself with bombastic cheapness of thought and -action. This is no plea against democracy, for democracy has come to -stay; but it is an argument why the best standards of living are more -likely to be found among those who do not congratulate themselves on -their plainness than those who are content to live no better and no -worse than their neighbors. Discontent with self is a valuable Mentor -in the apportionment of time. - -Therefore I offer as the most valuable study in the use of time under -modern conditions the men and women in our large cities who are so -far evolved that they are not tempted to commit common crimes, are -well educated, earnest and pleasing, and are keenly desirous to effect -in their daily lives that happy compromise between self-interest and -altruism to which I have referred as the goal of success in the use of -time. Let us consider them from the point of every day in the week and -of the four seasons. In every man’s life his occupation, the calling or -profession by which he earns his bread, must necessarily be the chief -consumer of his time. We Americans have never been an idle race, and -it is rare that the father of a family exposes himself to the charge -of sloth. His work may be unintelligent or bungling, but he almost -invariably spends rather too much than too little time over it. If -you ask him why, he says he cannot help it; that in order to get on -he must toil early and late. If he is successful, he tells you that -otherwise he cannot attend to all he has to do. There is plausibility -in this. Competition is undoubtedly so fierce that only those who -devote themselves heart and soul to any calling are likely to succeed. -Moreover, the consciousness of success is so engrossing and inspiriting -that one may easily be tempted to sacrifice everything else to the game. - -But can it be doubted, on the other hand, that the man who refuses to -become the complete slave either of endeavor or success is a better -citizen than he who does? The chief sinners in this respect in our -modern life are the successful men, those who are in the thick of -life doing reasonably well. The man who has not arrived, or who is -beginning, must necessarily have leisure for other things for the -reason that his time is not fully employed, but the really busy worker -must make an effort or he is lost. If he does not put his foot down -and determine what else he will do beside pursuing his vocation every -day in the year except Sunday, and often on Sunday to boot, he may be -robust enough to escape a premature grave, but he will certainly not -make the best use of his life. - -The difficulty for such men, of course, is to select what they will do. -There are so many things, that it is easy to understand why the mind -which abhors superficiality should be tempted to shut its ears out of -sheer desperation to every other interest but business or profession. -If every one were to do that what would be the result? Our leading men -would simply be a horde of self-seekers, in spite of the fact that -their individual work in their several callings was conscientious and -unsparing of self. Deplorable as a too great multiplicity of interests -is apt to be to the welfare and advancement of an ambitious man, the -motive which prompts him to endeavor to do many things is in reality a -more noble one, and one more beneficial to society than absorption to -excess in a vocation. The cardinal principle in the wise use of time is -to discover what one can do without and to select accordingly. Man’s -duty to his spiritual nature, to his æsthetic nature, to his family, to -public affairs, and to his social nature, are no less imperative than -his duty to his daily calling. Unless each of these is in some measure -catered to, man falls short in his true obligations. Not one of them -can be neglected. Some men think they can lighten the load to advantage -by disregarding their religious side. Others congratulate themselves -that they never read novels or poetry, and speak disrespectfully of -the works of new schools of art as daubs. A still larger number shirks -attention to political and social problems, and declares bluffly that -if a man votes twice a year and goes to a caucus, when he is sent for -in a carriage by the committee, it is all that can be expected of a -busy man. Another large contingent swathes itself in graceless virtue, -and professes to thank God that it keeps aloof from society people and -their doings. Then we are all familiar with the man who has no time to -know his own family, though, fortunately, he is less common than he -used to be. - -If I were asked to select what one influence more than another wastes -the spare time of the modern man, I should be inclined to specify the -reading of newspapers. The value of the modern daily newspaper as a -short cut to knowledge of what is actually happening in two hemispheres -is indisputable, provided it is read regularly so that one can -eliminate from the consciousness those facts which are contradicted -or qualified on the following day. Of course it is indispensable to -read the morning, and perhaps the evening, newspaper in order to -know what is going on in the world. But the persistent reading of -many newspapers, or the whole of almost any newspaper, is nearly as -detrimental to the economy of time as the cigarette habit to health. -Fifteen minutes a day is ample time in which to glean the news, and -the busy man who aspires to use his time to the best advantage may -well skip the rest. There is no doubt that many of our newspapers -contain some of the best thought of the day scattered through their -encyclopædic columns; but there is still less doubt that they are -conducted to please, first of all, those who otherwise would read -nothing. From this point of view they are most valuable educators; -moreover, the character of the newspaper is steadily improving, and -it is evident that those in charge of the best of them are seeking -to raise the public taste instead of writing down to it; but the -fact remains that they at present contain comparatively little which -the earnest man can afford to linger over if he would avoid mental -dissipation of an insidious kind. A newspaper containing only the -news and the really vital thought of the day compressed into short -space is among the successful enterprises of the future which some -genius will perpetuate. How many of us, already, weary of the social -gossip, the sensational personalities, the nauseous details of crime, -the custom-made articles, the Sunday special features, the ubiquitous -portrait, and finally the colored cartoon, would write our names large -on such a subscription-list! - -In the matter of books, too, the modern man and woman may well -exercise a determined choice. There is so much printed nowadays -between ornamental covers, that any one is liable to be misled by -sheer bewilderment, and deliberate selection is necessary to save us -from being mentally starved with plenty. We cannot always be reading -to acquire positive knowledge; entertainment and self-oblivion -are quite as legitimate motives for the hard worker as meditated -self-improvement; but whether we read philosophy and history, or the -novel, the poem, and the essay, it behooves us to read the best of its -kind. From this standpoint the average book club is almost a positive -curse. A weekly quota of books appears on our library tables, to be -devoured in seven days. We read them because they come to us by lot, -not because we have chosen them ourselves. There is published in every -year of this publishing age a certain number of books of positive merit -in the various departments of literature and thought, which a little -intelligent inquiry would enable us to discover. By reading fewer -books, and making sure that the serious ones were sound and the light -or clever ones really diverting, the modern man and woman would be -gainers both in time and approbation. - -In this connection let me head off again the sentimentalist and -moralist by noting that old friends in literature are often more -satisfying and engaging than new. Those of us who are in the thick of -life are too apt to forget to take down from our shelves the comrades -we loved when we were twenty-one--the essayists, the historians, the -poets, and novelists whose delightful pages are the literature of -the world. An evening at home with Shakespeare is not the depressing -experience which some clever people imagine. One rises from the feast -to go to bed with all one’s æsthetic being refreshed and fortified as -though one had inhaled oxygen. What a contrast this to the stuffy taste -in the roof of the mouth, and the weary, dejected frame of mind which -follow the perusal of much of the current literature which cozening -booksellers have induced the book club secretary to buy. - -A very little newspaper reading and a limited amount of selected -reading will leave time for the hobby or avocation. Every man or woman -ought to have one; something apart from business, profession, or -housekeeping, in which he or she is interested as a study or pursuit. -In this age of the world it may well take the form of educational, -economic, or philanthropic investigation, or co-operation, if -individual tastes happen to incline one to such work. The prominence -of such matters in our present civilization is, of course, a magnet -favorable to such a choice. In this way one can, as it were, kill two -birds with one stone, develop one’s own resources and perform one’s -duty toward the public. But, on the other hand, there will be many who -have no sense of fitness for this service, and whose predilections lead -them toward art, science, literature, or some of their ramifications. -The amateur photographer, the extender of books, the observer of birds, -are alike among the faithful. To have one hobby and not three or four, -and to persevere slowly but steadily in the fulfilment of one’s -selection, is an important factor in the wise disposal of time. It is a -truism to declare that a few minutes in every day allotted to the same -piece of work will accomplish wonders; but the result of trying will -convince the incredulous. Indeed one’s avocation should progress and -prevail by force of spare minutes allotted daily and continuously; just -so much and no more, so as not to crowd out the other claimants for -consideration. Fifteen minutes before breakfast, or between kissing the -children good-night and the evening meal, or even every other Saturday -afternoon and a part of every holiday, will make one’s hobby look -well-fed and sleek at the end of a few years. - -Perhaps the most difficult side of one’s nature to provide for -adequately is the social side. It is easy enough to make a hermit of -one’s self and go nowhere; and it is easy enough to let one’s self -be sucked into the vortex of endless social recreation until one’s -sensations become akin to those of a highly varnished humming-top. I -am not quite sure which is the worse; but I am inclined to believe -that the hermit, especially if self-righteous, is more detestable in -that he is less altruistic. He may be a more superior person than the -gadfly of society, but ethics no longer sanctions self-cultivation -purely for the benefit of self. Every man and woman who seeks to play -an intelligent part in the world ought to manage to dine out and attend -other social functions every now and then, even if it be necessary -to bid for invitations. Most of us have more invitations than we -can possibly accept, and find the problem of entertaining and being -entertained an exceedingly perplexing one to solve from the standpoint -of time. But in spite of the social proclivities of most of us, there -are still many people who feel that they are fulfilling their complete -duty as members of society if they live lives of strict rectitude far -from the madding crowd of so-called society people, and never darken -the doors of anybody. It is said that it takes all sorts of people to -make up the world, but disciplinarians and spoil-sports of this sort -are so tiresome that they would not be missed were they and their -homilies to be translated prematurely to another sphere. - -Those of us, however, who profess a contrary faith, experience -difficulty at times in being true to it, and are often tempted to slip -back into domestic isolation by the feverishness of our social life. -It sometimes seems as though there were no middle way between being -a humming-top and a hermit. Yet nothing is more fatal to the wise -use of time than the acceptance of every invitation received, unless -it be the refusal of every one. Here again moderation and choice are -the only safeguards, in spite of the assurance of friends that it is -necessary to go a great deal in order to enjoy one’s self. In our -cities the bulk of the entertainments of the year happen in the four -winter months; from which many far from frivolous persons argue that -the only way is to dine out every night, and go to everything to which -one is asked during this period, and make up between April 15th and -December 15th for any arrears due the other demands of one’s nature. -This is plausible, but a dangerous theory, if carried to excess. Wise -living consists in living wisely from day to day, without excepting any -season. Three evenings in a week spent away from one’s own fireside may -not be an easy limit for some whose social interests are varied, but -both the married and the single who regret politely in order to remain -tranquilly at home four evenings out of seven, need not fear that they -have neglected the social side of life even in the gayest of seasons. - -And here, for the sake of our sometimes dense friend the -moralist--especially the moralist of the press, who raves against -society people from the virtuous limit of an occasional afternoon -tea--let me add that by entertainments and recreation I intend to -include not merely formal balls and dinner-parties, but all the forms -of more or less innocent edification and diversion--teas, reform -meetings, theatres, receptions, concerts, lectures, clubs, sociables, -fairs, and tableaux, by which people all over the country are brought -together to exchange ideas and opinions in good-humored fellowship. - -In the apportionment of time the consideration of one’s physical health -is a paramount necessity, not merely for a reasonably long life, but -to temper the mind’s eye so that the point of view remain sane and -wholesome. An overwrought nervous system may be capable of spasmodic -spurts, but sustained useful work is impossible under such conditions. -To die in harness before one’s time may be fine, and in exceptional -cases unavoidable, but how much better to live in harness and do the -work which one has undertaken without breaking down. Happily the -young men and women of the country of the present generation may -almost be said to have athletics and fresh air on the brain. What with -opportunity and precept they can scarcely help living up to the mark in -this respect. The grown-up men and women, absorbed in the struggle of -life, are the people who need to keep a watchful eye upon themselves. -It is so easy to let the hour’s fresh air and exercise be crowded out -by the things which one feels bound to do for the sake of others, and -hence for one’s immortal soul. We argue that it will not matter if we -omit our walk or rest for a day or two, and so we go on from day to -day, until we are brought up with a round turn, as the saying is, and -realize, in case we are still alive, that we are chronic invalids. The -walk, the ride, the drive, the yacht, the bicycle, the search for wild -flowers and birds, the angler’s outing, the excursion with a camera, -the deliberate open-air breathing spell on the front platform of a -street-car, some one of these is within the means and opportunities of -every busy worker, male and female. - -For many of us the most begrudged undertaking of all is to find time -for what we owe to the world at large or the State, the State with -a capital S, as it is written nowadays. There is no money in such -bestowals, no private gain or emolument. What we give we give as a -tribute to pure altruism, or, in other words, because as men and women -we feel that it is one of the most important elements in wise living. -It is indisputable that there was never so much disinterested endeavor -in behalf of the community at large as there is to-day, but at the -same time it is true that the agitations and work are accomplished -by a comparatively small number of people. There are probably among -the intelligent, aspiring portion of the population at least five -persons who intend to interest themselves in public affairs, and regard -doing so as essential to a useful life, to every one who puts his -theories into practice. No man or woman can do everything. We cannot -as individuals at one and the same time busy ourselves successfully in -education, philanthropy, political reform, and economic science. But if -every one would take an active, earnest concern in something, in some -one thing, and look into it slowly but thoroughly, this man or woman in -the public schools, this in the methods of municipal government, and -this in the problems of crime or poverty, reforms would necessarily -proceed much faster. Just a little work every other day or every week. -Let it be your hobby if you will, if you have no time for a hobby -too. If five thousand men in every large city should take an active -interest in and give a small amount of time in every week to the school -question, we should soon have excellent public schools; if another five -thousand would devote themselves to the affairs of municipal government -in a similar fashion, would there be so much corruption as at present, -and would so inferior a class of citizens be chosen to be aldermen and -to fill the other city offices? And so on to the end of the chapter. -Is not something of the kind the duty of every earnest man and woman? -Let those who boast of being plain people put this into their pipes and -smoke it. When the self-styled working-classes are prohibited by law -from working more than eight hours, will they contribute of their spare -time to help those who are trying to help them? - -American men have the reputation of being considerate husbands and -indulgent fathers; but they have been apt at all events, until -recently, to make permission to spend take the place of personal -comradeship. This has been involuntarily and regretfully ascribed to -business pressure; but fatalistic remorse is a poor substitute for -duty, even though the loved ones eat off gold plate and ride in their -own carriages as a consequence. We Americans who have begotten children -in the last twenty years do not need to be informed that the time -given to the society of one’s wife and family is the most precious -expenditure of all, both for their sakes and our own. But though the -truth is obvious to us, are we not sometimes conscious at the end of -the week that the time due us and them has been squandered or otherwise -appropriated? Those walks and talks, those pleasant excursions from -city to country, or country to city, those quiet afternoons or evenings -at home, which are possible to every man and woman who love each other -and their children, are among the most valuable aids to wise living -and peace of mind which daily existence affords. Intimacy and warm -sympathy, precept and loving companionship, are worth all the indulgent -permission and unexpected cheques in the world. Some people, when -Sunday or a holiday comes, seem to do their best to get rid of their -families and to try to amuse themselves apart from them. Such men -and women are shutting out from their lives the purest oxygen which -civilization affords; for genuine comradeship of husband and wife, and -father or mother and child, purges the soul and tends to clear the -mind’s eye more truly than any other influence. - -Lastly and firstly, and in close compact with sweet domesticity and -faithful friendship, stand the spiritual demands of our natures. We -must have time to think and meditate. Just as the flowers need the -darkness and the refreshing dew, the human soul requires its quiet -hours, its season for meditation and rest. Whatever we may believe, -whatever doubts we may entertain regarding the mysteries of the -universe, who will maintain that the aspiring side of man is a delusion -and an unreality? In the time--often merely minutes--which we give -to contemplation and serious review of what we are doing, lies the -secret of the wise plan, if not the execution. To go on helter-skelter -from day to day without a purpose in our hearts resembles playing a -hurdy-gurdy for a living without the hope of pence. The use of Sunday -in this country has changed so radically in the last twenty-five years -that every one is free to spend it as he will, subject to certain -restrictions as to sport and entertainment in public calculated to -offend those who would prefer stricter usages. But whether we choose -to go to church or not, whether our aspirations are fostered in the -sanctuary or the fresh air, the eternal needs of the soul must be -provided for. If we give our spare hours and minutes merely to careless -amusement, we cannot fail to degenerate in nobility of nature, just -as we lose the hue of health when we sully the red corpuscles of the -body with foul air and steam heat. Are we not nowadays, even the plain -people, God bless them, too much disposed to believe that merely to -be comfortable and amused and rested is the sole requirement of the -human soul? It does need rest most of the time in this age of pressure, -Heaven knows, and comfort and amusement are necessary. But may we not, -even while we rest and are comfortable, under the blue sky or on the -peaceful river, if you will, lift up our spirits to the mystery of the -ages, and reach out once more toward the eternal truths? Merely to be -comfortable and to get rested once a week will not bring those truths -nearer. May we not, in the pride of our democracy, afford to turn our -glances back to the pages of history, to the long line of mighty -men kneeling before the altar with their eyes turned up to God, and -the prayer of faith and repentance on their lips? Did this all mean -nothing? Are we so wise and certain and far-seeing that we need not do -likewise? - - - - -The _Summer Problem_. - -I. - - -What is the good American to do with himself or herself in summer? -The busiest worker nowadays admits that a vacation of a fortnight in -hot weather is at least desirable. Philanthropy sends yearly more and -more children on an outing in August, as one of the best contributions -to the happiness and welfare of the poor. The atmosphere of our large -cities in midsummer is so lifeless and oppressive that every one who -can get away for some part of the summer plans to do so, and fathers of -families find themselves annually confronted by a serious problem. - -I specify the father of a family because the problem is so much easier -for a single man. The single man, and generally the single woman, can -pack a bag and go to the beach or mountains, or to a hotel within -easy distance from town, without much premeditation. The worst that -can happen to them is that they may become engaged without intention; -besides they can always come home if they are dissatisfied with their -surroundings. But the family man who lives in a large city finds more -and more difficulty every year, as the country increases in population, -in making up his mind how best to provide for the midsummer necessities -of his wife and children. There are several courses of action open to -him. - -He can remain in town and keep his family there. - -He can remain in town himself and send his family to a distance. - -He can hire a house or lodgings by the sea or in the country within -easy reach of town by railroad or steamboat. - -He can send his family to a summer hotel at a distance, or take a house -or lodgings at a distance, making occasional flying trips to and from -town, according to his opportunities. - -To stay in town and keep one’s family there is a far from disagreeable -experience except in very large cities in unusually hot weather. The -custom of going away from home in summer is one which has grown by -force of imitation. The inclination to change one’s surroundings, and -to give the wife and children a whiff of country or sea or mountain -air for a few weeks in the course of the year is an ambition which -is neither godless nor extravagant. But it is not worth while to set -this necessity up as an idol to be worshipped at the expense of comfort -for the rest of the year, for, after all, our ancestors successfully -reared large families of children, including some of us, without going -away from home in the summer, and “the-can’t-get-aways” in our largest -and most uncomfortable cities still outnumber those who can and do in -the proportion of at least five to one. It costs more to go away than -to stay in town; from which certain native philosophers, who maintain -that any one who spends more than twenty-five hundred dollars on his -family in any one year is not a good American, may argue that those who -have both a summer and a winter home are aristocrats and materialists. -Their argument is not likely to diminish summer travel, to bankrupt the -summer hotels, or to induce the well-to-do American citizen to shut -up his cottage. A change in summer, for a longer or shorter period, -is generally recognized as one of the most healthful and improving -advantages which a father in our civilization can give his family and -himself. On the other hand, to go out of town simply because one’s -neighbors do, when one cannot afford it, is a pitiful performance. - -Moreover, the man who does not send his family out of town from -motives of economy, has more than a clean conscience to comfort him. -He can remember that probably one-third of the annual experiments -in summer culture and health-giving recreation, made by his friends -and acquaintance, turn out dire failures, and that another one-third -result in mixed joy and comfort. He can reflect too, if he lives in -the suburbs of a city, or in a town or small city, that, barring a few -exceptionally hot days, he and his family are really very comfortable -at home. Even if his household gods are in a parboiled metropolis, he -will commonly be able to relieve his tedium and physical discomfort by -some form of excursion. All our seaboard cities have their midsummer -Meccas for the multitude in the form of beaches; and even where no -ocean breezes blow, there is usually close at hand verdure, a lake, -a grove, or a river where the philosophical soul can forget the -thermometer, and cease to commiserate with itself on being kept in -town. One’s own bed is never humpy, and the hollows in it are just -fitted to one’s bones or adipose developments. One can eat and drink -in one’s town-house without fear of indigestion or germs. Decidedly -the happiness of staying at home is not much less than the happiness -of passing one, two, or three months at a place where everything is -uncomfortable or nasty, at a cost which one can ill afford, if at all. -Good city milk and succulent city vegetables are luxuries which are -rarely to be found at the ordinary summer resort. - -It is difficult to convince one’s family of this in advance. Besides, -man is always to be blessed. We are always hoping that the next summer -will be a grand improvement on those which have gone before, and -generally by the first of May we believe, or at least imagine, that we -have discovered the genuine article--the ideal spot at last. Discovered -it for our families. The American father has the trick of sending -his family out of town for the summer, and staying at home himself. -This had its origin probably in his supposed inability to escape from -business in the teeth of the family craving to see something of the -world outside of their own social acquaintance. Yet he acknowledged the -force of the family argument that with such a large country to explore -it would be a pity not to explore it; and accordingly he said, “Go, -and I will join you if and when I can.” Paterfamilias said this long -ago, and in some instances he has vainly been trying to join them ever -since. There are all sorts of trying in this world, and perhaps his -has not been as determined as some; nevertheless, he has maintained -tolerably well the reputation of trying. The Saturday night trains -and steamboats all over the country are vehicles, from July first to -October first, of an army of fathers who are trying successfully to -join their nearest and dearest at the different summer-resorts of the -land. - -To be separated for three months from one’s wife and children, except -for a day or two once a fortnight, is scarcely an ideal domestic -arrangement, in spite of the fact that it is more or less delightful -for the dear ones to meet new people and see new scenes. The American -father may not try very hard to leave his city home, but it must be -admitted that he has been an amiable biped on the score of the summer -question. He has been and is ready to suffer silently for the sake of -his family and his business. But now that he has made up his mind at -last that he prefers to leave his business for the sake of his family -and his own health, the difficulties of sending them to a distance -are more apparent to him. Ten or fifteen years ago it dawned upon him -that the city in summer without his family was not the ideal spot his -fancy had painted, and that the sea-side and country, especially the -former, were, after all, the best place for an overworked, full-grown -man on a summer’s afternoon. It dawned upon him, too, that there was -sea-coast and country close at hand where he could establish his family -and refresh himself at the end of every day’s work. Twenty-five years -ago the marine and attractive suburban environs of our cities were -substantially unappropriated. To-day they bristle with cottages, large -and small, the summer homes of city men. Every available promontory, -island, hill, nook, and crook, which commands a pleasing view or is -visited by cooling breezes is, or soon will be, occupied. What can a -busy man do better, if he can afford it, than buy or hire a cottage, -as humble as you like, to which he can return in the afternoon to the -bosom of his own family, and be comfortable and lazy until morning? - -From the domestic point of view this is assuredly the most satisfactory -arrangement for the father, and the American paterfamilias, ever since -the truth dawned upon him, has been prompt in recognizing the fact. -He has builded, too, according to his taste, whim, and individual -idiosyncrasies. A sea-side cottage within easy reach of town includes, -to-day, every variety of shelter from a picturesque villa of the most -super-civilized type to the hulk of a ship fitted up as a camping-out -home. To a large extent, too, the hotel has been discarded in favor -of the domestic hearth, even though the single chimney smokes so that -tears are perpetually in the domestic eye. The well-to-do city man who -comes to town every day appreciates that a hotel is a poor place for -children; consequently the long piazzas, where the terrible infant -forever used to abound, are now trodden chiefly by visitors from a -distance and transients who have escaped from the city for a day in -search of a sea-bath and a clam chowder. - -If the summer cottage to which the husband returns at night, is not the -most satisfactory arrangement for the mother, she must blame herself -or the civilization in which she lives. The sole argument in favor of -passing the summer at a hotel is that the wife and mother escapes -thereby the cares of housekeeping, too often so severe during the rest -of the year that the prospect of not being obliged to order dinner for -three months causes her to wake in the night and laugh hysterically. -Formality and conventional ceremony are the lurking enemies of our -American summer life, who threaten to deprive our mothers and daughters -of the rest and vacation from the tension, excitement, and worry -begotten by nine months of active domestic duties. Simplicity of living -ought to be the controlling warm-weather maxim of every household where -the woman at the head of the establishment does the housekeeping, as -nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine women out of ten thousand in -America do. - -It may be argued that greater simplicity in living all the year round -would enable the wife and mother to do without a vacation. Possibly. -But unfortunately for her the trend of the tide is all the other way. -Besides, simplicity is such a difficult word to conjure with. Her -interests have become so varied that the wear and tear is quite as -likely to proceed from new mental strivings as from a multiplicity -of sheer domestic duties. At least there seems to be no immediate -prospect that she will be less tired in the spring, however exemplary -her intentions, and it therefore behooves her not to allow the wave of -increasing luxury to bear her on its crest through the summer and land -her in her town-house in October a physical and mental wreck. - -The external attractiveness of the modern summer cottage, with its -pleasing angles and comely stains, is easily made an excuse for an -artistic interior and surroundings to match. But artistic beauty -in summer can readily be produced without elaboration, and at -comparatively slight cost, if we only choose to be content with simple -effects. The bewitching charm of the summer girl, if analyzed, proves -to be based on a few cents a yard and a happy knack of combining colors -and trifles. Why need we be solicitous to have all the paraphernalia -of winter-life--meals with many courses, a retinue of servants, wines, -festal attire, and splendid entertainments? While we rejoice that -the promiscuous comradeship of hotel life has largely given place at -Newport, Bar Harbor, Lenox, and our other fashionable watering-places -to the pleasant protection of the cottage home, is it not seriously -deplorable that simplicity is too often lost sight of? To be -comfortable is one thing, to be swathed in luxury or to be tortured by -ceremony all the time is another. It seems strange to many of us, who -cannot choose precisely what we will do and where we will go in summer, -that those who can so often select a mere repetition of mid-winter -social recreation. - -There is Patterson the banker for instance, the employer of Rogers. He -can go where he pleases, and he goes to Newport. One can see him any -afternoon driving augustly on Bellevue Avenue or along the ocean drive, -well gloved, well shod, and brilliantly necktied, in his landau beside -Mrs. Patterson. They have been to Newport for years in summer, and -their house, with its beautiful outlook to sea, has doubled and trebled -in value. How do they pass their time? Entertain and let themselves be -entertained. Dinners with formal comestibles, late dances, champagne -luncheons, _paté de fois gras_ picnics on a coach are their daily -associations. Mr. and Mrs. Patterson are close upon sixty themselves, -but they follow--a little more solemnly than formerly, but still -without stint--the same programme, which grows more and more elaborate -with each succeeding year. It was there that their youngest daughter -was married six months ago, with widely heralded splendor, to a -Russian nobleman who speaks beautiful English. May her lot be a happy -one! The son, who went through the Keeley cure, and the elder daughter, -who is separated from her husband, have spent their summers at Newport -from their youth up. - -There are comparatively few who have the means to live, or who do live -just like Patterson, but there is many a man of fine instincts and with -a sufficient income to maintain a summer home, who finds himself to-day -oppressed by the incubus of things. He seeks rest, books, fresh air, -the opportunity to enjoy nature--the sea, the foliage, the flowers--and -yet he is harassed by things, the very things he has all winter, with a -garnishment suitable to hot weather. He wishes to be still; and things -keep him moving. He yearns to strip off, if not all his clothing, at -least enough of it to give his lungs and his soul full play; but things -keep him faultlessly dressed. He intends to slake his thirst only from -the old oaken bucket or the milk-pail, and things keep his palate -titillated with champagne and cocktails. Our old-time simplicity in -summer is perhaps no longer possible in the large watering-places. It -is even with considerable satisfaction that we don, and see our wives -and children don, the attractive clothing which has taken the place of -shirt-sleeves and flannel shirts as articles of toilette; but is it not -time to cry halt in our procession toward luxury, if we do not wish to -live on our nerves all the year round? - -It is this difficulty in escaping the expenses and the formality of -city life in the summer cottage or at the summer hotel, almost as -much as the fact that the desirable locations near town have all been -taken, which is inclining the American father to send his family -to a distance. After twenty-five years of exploration the outlying -beaches and other favorite resorts near our large cities have become -so thoroughly appropriated that the man who wishes to build or own a -summer home of his own is obliged to look elsewhere. As a consequence -cottages have sprung up all along the line of our coast, from the -farthest confines of Maine to New Jersey, on the shores of the lakes -of the Middle West, and on the Pacific shore. Many of these are -of a simple and attractive character, and generally they stand in -small colonies, large enough for companionship and not too large for -relaxation. With the similar double purpose of obtaining an attractive -summer home at a reasonable price, and of avoiding the stock -watering-place, city families are utilizing also the abandoned farm. -There is not room for us all on the sea-coast; besides those of us -whose winter homes are there are more likely to need inland or mountain -air. There are thousands of beautiful country spots, many of them not -so very far from our homes, where the run-down farm can be redeemed, if -not to supply milk and butter, at least to afford a picturesque shelter -and a lovely landscape during the season when we wish to be out of -doors as much as possible. A very few changes, a very little painting -and refurnishing will usually transform the farm-house itself into -just the sort of establishment which a family seeking rest and quiet -recreation ought to delight in. You may bring mosquito-frames for the -windows if you like, and you must certainly test the well-water. Then -swing your hammock between two apple-trees and thank Providence that -you are not like so many of your friends and acquaintances, working the -tread-mill of society in the dog-days. - -Of course most men who have homes of this description at a distance -cannot be with their families all the time. But, on the other hand, -the conviction that a busy man can do better work in ten or eleven -months than in twelve, is gaining ground, and most of us, if we only -choose to, can slip away for at least three weeks. Many of the demands -of modern civilization on the family purse cannot be resisted without -leaving the husband and parent a little depressed; but it seems to me -that a serious item of expense may be avoided, and yet all the genuine -benefits and pleasures of a change of scene and atmosphere be obtained, -if we only dismiss from our minds the idea of living otherwise than -simply. A little house with very little in it, with a modest piazza, -a skiff or sail-boat which does not pretend to be a yacht, a garden -hoe and rake, a camera, books and a hammock, a rod which is not too -precious or costly to break, one nag of plebeian blood and something -to harness him to, rabbits in the barn and sunflowers in the garden, a -walk to sunset hill and a dialogue with the harvest moon--why should -we not set our summer life to such a tune, rather than hanker for the -neighborhood of the big steam-yacht and polo-ground, for the fringe of -the fashionable bathing beach, for the dust of the stylish equipage, -and try in our several ways, and beyond our means, to follow the pace -which is set for us by others? - - - - -The _Summer Problem_. - -II. - - -Why? Largely on account of that newly created species, the American -girl. From solicitude for her happiness and out of deference to her -wishes. Many a father and mother would be delighted to pass the summer -on an abandoned farm or in any other spot where it were possible to -live simply and to be cool, comfortable, and lazy, but for fear of -disappointing their young people--principally their daughters, who, -unlike the sons, cannot yet come and go at will. Feminine youth has its -inherent privileges everywhere, but the gentle sway which it exercises -in other civilizations has become almost a sour tyranny here. Was there -ever an American mother who knew anything portrayed in fiction? The -American daughter is commonly presented as a noble-souled, original -creature, whose principal mission in life, next to or incidental to -refusing the man who is not her choice, is to let her own parents -understand what weak, ignorant, foolish, unenlightened persons they -are in comparison with the rising generation--both parents in -some measure, but chiefly and utterly the mother. She is usually -willing to concede that her father has a few glimmering ideas, and -a certain amount of sense--horse business sense, not very elevating -or inspiring--yet something withal. But she looks upon her poor dear -mother as a feeble-minded individual of the first water. What we read -in contemporary fiction in this realistic age is apt to be photographed -from existing conditions. The newly created species of our homes does -not always reveal these sentiments in so many words; indeed she is -usually disposed to conceal from her parents as far as possible their -own shortcomings, believing often, with ostrich-like complacency, that -they have no idea what she really thinks of them. Quite frequently late -in life it dawns upon her that they were not such complete imbeciles as -she had adjudged them, and she revises her convictions accordingly. But -often she lives superior to the end. - -It would be an excellent thing for the American girl if her eyes could -be definitely opened to the fact that her parents, particularly her -mother, are much more clever than she supposes, and that they are -really her best counsellors. But on the other hand, is not the American -mother herself chiefly responsible for this attitude of loving -contempt and sweet but unfilial condescension on the part of her own -flesh and blood? It sometimes seems as though we had fallen victims to -our reluctance to thwart our children in any way lest we should destroy -their love for us. But is it much preferable to be loved devotedly as -foolish, weak, and amiable old things, than to be feared a little as -individuals capable of exercising authority and having opinions of our -own? - -This yielding, self-abnegating tendency on the part of parents, -and consequent filial tyranny, are especially conspicuous in the -case of that arch despot, the summer girl. I admit her fascination -unreservedly, and am willing to concede that she has run the gauntlet -of criticism hurled at her by the effete civilizations with an -unblemished reputation. Though she may have become a little more -conservative and conventional out of deference to good taste, she is -still able to be lost in caves or stranded on islands with any young -man of her acquaintance without bringing a blush to any cheek except -that of the horror-stricken foreigner. But having admitted this, I -am obliged to charge her with trampling on the prostrate form of her -mother from the first of July to the first of October. She does so to -a certain extent the year round, but the summer is the crowning season -of her despotism. - -The first concern of the American father and mother in making plans for -the summer is to go to some place which the children will like, and -the summer girl in particular. This is natural and in keeping with the -unselfish devotion shown by the present generation of parents toward -their children. But it is one thing to endeavor to select a place which -will be satisfactory to one’s eighteen-year-old daughter and another -to be sweetly hectored by that talented young woman into going to some -place selected by her of which you entirely disapprove. And just here -it is that the American mother almost seems to be convicted of the -feebleness of intellect ascribed to her by the newly created species. -You, the father, are just screwing your courage up to say that you will -be blessed if you will go to a summer hotel at Narragansett Pier (or -wherever it is), when your wife, who has been cowed or cajoled by the -despot in the interim, flops completely, as the saying is, and joins -an almost tearful support to the summer girl’s petition. And there you -are. What are you to do? Daughter and mother, the apple of your eye -and the angel of your heart, leagued against you. Resistance becomes -impossible, unless you are ready to incur the reputation of being a -stony-hearted old curmudgeon. - -The summer girl invariably wishes to go where it is gay. Her idea of -enjoyment does not admit domesticity and peaceful relaxation. She -craves to be actively amused, if not blissfully excited. It is not -strange that the tastes and sentiments of young persons from seventeen -to twenty-three should differ considerably from those of mothers and -fathers from forty to fifty, and it speaks well for the intelligence -and unselfishness of middle-aged parents and guardians in this country -that they so promptly recognize the legitimate claims of youth, and -even are eager to give young people a chance to enjoy themselves -before the cares of life hedge them in. But have we not gone to the -other extreme? Is it meet that we should regard ourselves as moribund -at fifty, and sacrifice all our own comfort and happiness in order to -let a young girl have her head, and lead a life in summer of which we -heartily disapprove? It is not an exaggeration to state that there is a -growing disposition on the part of the rising hordes of young men and -girls to regard any one in society over thirty-five as a fossil and an -encumbrance, for whom, in a social sense, the grave is yawning. It is -not uncommon to hear a comely matron of forty described as a frump by a -youth scarcely out of his teens, and every old gentleman of thirty-nine -has experienced the tactless pity which fashionable maidens under -twenty-one endeavor to conceal in the presence of his senility. - -The summer girl is generally a young person who has been a winter -girl for nine months. I am quite aware that some girls are much more -effective in summer than at any other season, and it may be that in -certain cases they appear to so little advantage in winter that to -attempt to gratify parental inclinations at their expense would be -rank unkindness. But it is safe to allege that the average summer -girl in this country has been doing all she ought to do in the way of -dancing, prancing, gadding, going, working, and generally spending her -vital powers in the autumn, winter, and spring immediately preceding, -and consequently when summer comes needs, quite as much as her -parents, physical, mental, and moral ozone. But what does she prefer -to do? Whither is she bent on leading her father by the nose with -the assistance of her mother? To various places, according to her -special predilection, and the farthest limit of the parental purse. -If possible, to one of the gayest watering-places, where she hopes -to bathe, play tennis, walk, talk, and drive during the day; paddle, -stroll, or sit out during the evening, and dance until twelve o’clock -at night two or three times a week. Else to some much-advertised -mountain cataract or lake resort, to lead a stagnant hotel corridor -and piazza life, in the fond hope of seeing the vividly imagined Him -alight from the stage-coach some Saturday night. Meanwhile she is one -of three-score forlorn girls who haunt the office and make eyes at the -hotel clerk. The summer girl has a mania for the summer hotel. It seems -to open to her radiant possibilities. She kindles at the mention of a -hop in August, and if she is musical, the tinkle of her piano playing -reverberates through the house all day until the other boarders are -driven nearly crazy. In the gloaming after supper she flits off from -the house with her best young man of the moment, and presently her -mother is heard bleating along the piazza, “My Dorothy has gone without -her shawl, and will catch her death a cold.” - -And so it goes all summer. When autumn comes and the leaf is about -to fall, and Dorothy returns to town, what has she to show for it? -A little tan and a callous heart, a promised winter correspondence -with the hotel clerk, new slang, some knack at banjo-playing, and -considerable uncertainty in her mind as to whom she is engaged to, or -whether she is engaged at all. And like as not the doctor is sent for -to build her up for the winter with cod-liver oil and quinine. There is -too much ozone at some of these summer hotels. - -We cannot hope to do away wholly with either the summer hotel or the -fashionable watering-place by the assertion of parental authority. -Such an endeavor, indeed, would on the whole be an unjust as well as -fruitless piece of virtue. The delightful comradeship between young men -and young women, which is one of our national products, is typified -most saliently by the summer girl and her attendant swains. Naturally -she wishes to go to some place where swains are apt to congregate; and -the swain is always in search of her. Moreover, the summer hotel must -continue to be the summer home of thousands who, for one reason or -another, have no cottage or abandoned farm. My plea is still the same, -however. Why, now that the negro slave is free, and the workingman is -being legislated into peace and plenty, and the wrongs of other women -are being righted, should not the American mother try to burst her -bonds? It would be a much more simple matter than it seems, for, after -all, she has her own blood in her veins, and she has only to remember -what a dogmatic person she herself was in the days of her youth. If the -code of fathers and mothers, instead of that of girls and boys, were in -force at our summer hotels and watering-places, a very different state -of affairs would soon exist; and that, too, without undue interference -with that inherent, cherished, and unalienable right of the American -daughter, the maiden’s choice. We must not forget that though our -civilization boasts the free exercise of the maiden’s choice as one of -the brightest jewels in the crown of republican liberties, the crowded -condition of our divorce courts forbids us to be too demonstrative in -our self-satisfaction. - -It would be dire, indeed, to bore the young person, especially the -summer girl. But does it necessarily follow that a summer home or a -summer life indicated by the parent would induce such a disastrous -result? I am advising neither a dungeon, a convent, nor some -excruciatingly dull spot to which no fascinating youth is likely to -penetrate. Verily, even the crowded bathing beach may not corrupt, -provided that wise motherly control and companionship point out the -dangers and protect the forming soul, mind, and manners, instead of -allowing them to be distorted and poisoned by the ups and downs of -promiscuous amatory summer guerilla warfare. But may it not happen, -when the maternal foot is once firmly put down, that the summer -girl will not be so easily bored as she or her mother fears, and -will even be grateful for protection against her own ignorance and -inexperience? Boating, sketching, riding, reading, bicycling, travel, -sewing, and photography are pastimes which ought not to bore her, and -would surely leave her more refreshed in the autumn than continuous -gadding, dancing, and flirtation. To be a member of a small, pleasant -colony, where the days are passed simply and lazily, yet interestingly; -where the finer senses are constantly appealed to by the beauties of -nature and the healthful character of one’s occupations, is a form of -exile which many a summer girl would accommodate herself to gladly -if she only understood what it was like, and understood, moreover, -that the selection of a summer programme had ceased to be one of her -prerogatives. A determined man who wishes to marry will discover the -object of his affections on an abandoned farm or in the heart of the -Maine woods, if he is worth his salt. In these days of many yachts -and bicycles true love can travel rapidly, and there is no occasion -for marriageable girls to select courting-grounds where their lovers -can have close at hand a Casino and other conveniences, including the -opportunity to flirt with their next best Dulcineas. - -If the summer-time is the time in which to recuperate and lie fallow, -why should we have so many summer schools? After the grand panjandrum -of Commencement exercises at the colleges is over, there ought to be -a pause in the intellectual activity of the nation for at least sixty -days; yet there seems to be a considerable body of men and women who, -in spite of the fact that they exercise their brains vigorously during -the rest of the year, insist on mental gymnastics when the thermometer -is in the eighties. These schools--chiefly assemblies in the name of -the ologies and osophies--bring together more or less people more or -less learned, from all over the country, to talk at one another and -read papers. - -Judging merely from the newspaper accounts of their proceedings, it is -almost invariably impossible to discover the exact meaning of anything -which is uttered, but this may be due to the absence of the regular -reporters on their annual vacations, and the consequent delegation to -tyros of the difficult duty in question. But even assuming that the -utterances of the summer schools are both intelligible and stimulating, -would not the serious-minded men and women concerned in them be better -off lying in a hammock under a wide-spreading beech-tree, or, if this -seems too relaxing an occupation, watching the bathers at Narragansett -Pier? There is wisdom sometimes in sending young and very active boys -to school for about an hour a day in summer, in order chiefly to -know where they are and to prevent them from running their legs off; -but with this exception the mental workers in this country, male and -female, young and old, can afford to close their text-books with a bang -on July 1st, and not peep at them again until September. Philosophy in -August has much the flavor of asparagus in January. - - - - -The _Case of Man_. - -I. - - -A not inconsiderable portion of the women of the United States is -inclined to regard man as a necessary evil. Their point of view is -that he is here, and therefore is likely, for the present at least, -to remain a formidable figure in human affairs, but that his ways are -not their ways, that they disapprove of them and him, and that they -intend to work out their lives and salvation as independently of him -as possible. What man in the flush and prime of life has not been made -conscious of this attitude of the modern woman? She is constantly -passing us in the street with the manner of one haughtily and supremely -indifferent. There are women enough still who look patterns of modesty, -and yet let us feel at the same time that we are more or less an object -of interest to them; but this particular type sails by in her trig -and often stylish costume with the air not merely of not seeing us, -but of wishing to ignore us. Her compressed lips suggest a judgment; -a judgment born of meditated conviction which leaves no hope of -reconsideration or exception. “You are all substantially alike,” she -seems to say, “and we have had enough of you. Go your ways and we will -go ours.” - -The Mecca of the modern woman’s hopes, as indicated by this point of -view, would appear to be the ultimate disappearance of man from the -face of the earth after the manner of the mastodon and other brutes. -Nor are her hopes balked by physiological barriers. She is prepared -to admit that it is not obvious, as yet, how girls alone are to be -generated and boy babies given the cold maternal shoulder; but she -trusts to science and the long results of time for a victory which will -eliminate sexual relations and all their attendant perplexities and -tragedies from the theatre of human life. - -We are not so sanguine as she that the kingdom of heaven is to be -brought to pass in any so simple and purely feminine a fashion. That -is, we men. Perhaps we are fatuous, but we see no reason to doubt that -sexual relations will continue to the crack of doom, in spite of the -perplexities and tragedies consequent upon them; and moreover, that -man will continue to thrive like a young bay-tree, even though she -continues to wear a chip on her tailor-made shoulder. And yet at the -same time we feel sober. It is not pleasant to be regarded as brutes -and to have judgment passed upon us by otherwise attractive women. It -behooves us to scratch our heads and ask ourselves if we can possibly -merit the haughty indifference and thinly disguised contempt which -is entertained toward us. To be weighed in the balance and found -wanting by a serene and beautiful young person is a far from agreeable -experience. There must be something wrong with us, and if so, what is -it? - -Of course there was a time--and not so very long ago--when men were -tyrants and kept women under. Nowadays the only thing denied them in -polite circles is to whisk around by themselves after dark, and plenty -of them do that. The law is giving them, with both hands, almost -everything they ask for nearly as rapidly as existing inequalities -are pointed out, and the right of suffrage is withheld from them only -because the majority of women are still averse to exercising it. Man, -the tyrant and highwayman, has thrown up his arms and is allowing woman -to pick his pockets. He is not willing to have her bore a hole in his -upper lip, and drag him behind her with a rope, but he is disposed to -consent to any reasonable legislative changes which she desires to have -made, short of those which would involve masculine disfigurement or -depreciation. It certainly cannot be his bullying qualities which have -attracted her disdain, for he has given in. If woman to-day finds that -the law discriminates unjustly between her and man, she has merely to -ask for relief in sufficient numbers to show that she is not the tool -of designing members of her own sex, in order to obtain it. - -Under the spur of these reflections I consulted my wife by way of -obtaining light on this problem. “Barbara, why is it that modern women -of a certain type are so sniffy toward men? You know what I mean; they -speak to us, of course, and tolerate us, and they love us individually -as husbands and fathers; but instead of counting for everything, as we -once did, we don’t seem to count for anything unless it be dollars and -cents. It isn’t merely that you all talk so fast and have so much to -say without regard to us that we often feel left out in the cold, and -even hurt, but there is a stern, relentless look on some of your faces -which makes us feel as though we had stolen the Holy Grail. You must -have noticed it.” - -“Oh, yes,” said Barbara, with a smile. “It doesn’t mean very much. Of -course times are not what they were. Man used to be a demigod, now he -is only a----” - -Barbara hesitated for a word, so I suggested, “Only a bank.” - -“Let us say only a man. Only a man in the eyes of reflective womanhood. -We have caught up and are beginning to think for ourselves. You can’t -expect us to hang on your every word and to fall down and worship -you without reservation as we once did. Man used to be woman’s whole -existence, often to her infinite sorrow, and now he is only part of it, -just as she is only a part of his. You go to your clubs; we go to ours; -and while you are playing cards we read or listen to papers, some of -which are not intelligible to man. But we love you still, even though -we have ceased to worship you. There are a few, I admit, who would -like to do away with you altogether; but they are extremists--in every -revolution, you know, there are fanatics and unreasonable persons--but -the vast majority of us have a tender spot for you in our hearts, and -regard your case in sorrow rather than in anger--and as probably not -hopeless.” - -“What is the matter with us?” - -“Oh, everything. You are a failure fundamentally. To begin with, -your theory of life is founded on compromise. We women--the modern -woman--abhor compromise.” - -Although it was obvious that Barbara was trying to tease me, I realized -from her expression that she intended to deal my sex a crucial stab -by the word compromise. I must confess that I felt just a little -uncomfortable under the white light of scorn which radiated from her -eyes, while her general air reminded me for the first time disagreeably -of the type of modern woman to whom I had referred. - -“The world progresses by compromise,” I replied, sententiously. - -“Yes, like a snail.” - -“Otherwise it would stand still. A man thinks so and so; another man -thinks precisely opposite; they meet each other half-way and so much is -gained.” - -“Oh, I know how they do. A man who stands for a principle meets another -man; they argue and bluster for a few minutes, and presently they sit -down and have something to eat or drink, and by the time they separate -the man who stands for a principle has sacrificed all there is of it, -except a tiny scrap or shred, in order not to incommode the man who has -no principles at all; and what is almost worse, they part seemingly -bosom friends and are apt to exchange rhetorical protestations of -mutual esteem. The modern woman has no patience with such a way of -doing things.” - -“I suppose,” said I, “that two modern women under similar circumstances -would tear each other all to pieces; there would be nothing to eat or -drink, except possibly tea and wafers, and the floor would be covered -with fragments of skin, hair, and clothing. When they separated one -would be dead and the other maimed for life, and the principle for -which the victor stood would be set back about a century and a half.” - -Barbara winced a little, but she said, “What have you men accomplished -all these years by your everlasting compromises? If you were really in -earnest to solve the liquor problem, and the social evil, as you call -it, and all the other abuses which exist in civilized and uncivilized -society, you would certainly have been able to do more than you have. -You have had free scope; we haven’t been consulted; we have stood -aside and let you have your innings; now we merely wish to see what -we can do. We shall make mistakes I dare say; even one or two of us -may be torn to pieces or maimed for life; but the modern woman feels -that she has the courage of her convictions and that she does not -intend to let herself be thwarted or cajoled by masculine theories. -That accounts largely for our apparent sniffiness. I say ‘apparent,’ -because we are not really at bottom so contemptuous as we seem--even -the worst of us. I suppose you are right in declaring that the proud, -superior, and beautiful young person of the present day is a little -disdainful. But even she is less severe than she looks. She is simply -a nineteenth-century Joan of Arc protesting against the man of the -world and his works, asking to be allowed to lead her life without -molestation from him in a shrine of her own tasteful yet simple -construction--rooms or a room where she can practise her calling, -follow her tastes, ambitions, or hobbies, pursue her charities, and -amuse herself without being accountable to him. She wishes him to -understand that, though she is attractive, she does not mean to be -seduced or to be worried into matrimony against her will, and that she -intends to use her earnings and her property to pay her own bills -and provide for her own gratification, instead of to defray the debts -of her vicious or easy-going male relations or admirers. There is -really a long back account to settle, so it is not surprising that the -pendulum should swing a little too far the other way. Of course she -is wrong; woman can no more live wholly independent of man than he of -her--and you know what a helpless being he would be without her--and -the modern woman is bound to recognize, sooner or later, that the -sympathetic companionship of women with men is the only basis of true -social progress. Sexual affinity is stronger than the constitutions -of all the women’s clubs combined, as eight out of ten young modern -women discover to their cost, or rather to their happiness, sooner or -later. Some brute of a man breaks into the shrine, and before she knows -it she is wheeling a baby carriage. Even the novelist, with his or -her fertile invention, has failed to discover any really satisfactory -ending for the independent, disdainful heroine but marriage or the -grave. Spinsterhood, even when illumined by a career, is a worthy and -respectable lot, but not alluring.” - -It was something to be assured by my wife that the modern woman does -not purpose to abolish either maternity or men, and that, so to speak, -her bark is worse than her bite. Barbara belongs to a woman’s club, so -she must know. We men are in such a nervous state, as a result of what -Barbara calls the revolution, that very likely we are unduly sensitive -and suspicious, and allow our imaginations to fly off at a tangent. -Very likely, too, we are disposed to be a trifle irritable, for when -one has been accustomed for long to sit on or club a person (literally -or metaphorically, according to one’s social status) when she happens -to express sentiments or opinions contrary to ours, it must needs take -time to get used to the idea that she is really an equal, and to adjust -one’s ratiocinations to suit. But even accepting as true the assurance -that the forbidding air of the modern woman does not mean much, and -that she loves us still though she has ceased to worship us, we have -Barbara’s word for it, too, that the modern woman thinks we have made -a mess of it and that man is a failure fundamentally. Love without -respect! Sorrow rather than anger! It sobers one; it saddens one. For -we must admit that man has had free scope and a long period in which -to make the most of himself; and woman has not, which precludes us -from answering back, as it were, which is always more or less of a -consolation when one is brought to bay. - -A tendency to compromise is certainly one of man’s characteristics. -Barbara has referred to it as a salient fault--a vice, and perhaps it -is, though it is writ large in the annals of civilization as conducted -by man. We must at least agree that it is not woman’s way, and that she -expects to do without it when we are no more or are less than we are -now. Probably we have been and are too easy-going, and no one will deny -that one ought at all times to have the courage of one’s convictions, -even in midsummer and on purely social occasions; nevertheless it would -have been trying to the nervous system and conducive to the continuance -and increase of standing armies, had we favored the policy of shooting -at sight those whose views on the temperance question differed from -ours, or of telling the host at whose house we had passed the evening -that we had been bored to death. - -If one runs over in his mind the Madame Tussaud Gallery of masculine -types, he cannot fail to acknowledge that, in our capacity of lords -of creation and viceregents of Providence, we have produced and -perpetuated a number of sorry specimens. First in the list stands the -so-called man of the world, on account of whom in particular, according -to Barbara, the nineteenth-century Joan of Arc looks askance at our -sex. He is an old stager; he dates back very nearly, if not completely, -to the garden of Eden, and he has always been a bugbear to woman. -It is not necessary to describe him; he has ever stood for simply -carnal interests and appetites, whether as a satyr, a voluptuary, a -wine-bibber, a glutton, a miser, an idler, or a mere pleasure-seeker. -If all the human industries which have owed and still owe their -prosperity to his propensities were to be obliterated, there would be -a large array of unemployed in the morning but a healthier world. The -bully, or prevailer by brute force, the snob, the cynic, the parasite, -the trimmer, and the conceited egotist are others prominent in the -category, without regard to criminals and unvarnished offenders against -whose noxious behavior men have protected themselves by positive law. - -On the other hand, our gallery of past types has many figures of which -we have a right to be proud. Unfortunately we are barred again from -comparison or answering back by the taunt that woman has never had a -chance; nevertheless we may claim for what it is worth that, in the -realm of intellect or of the spirit, there have been no women who -have soared so high; seers, poets, law-givers, unfolders of nature’s -secrets, administrators of affairs, healers and scholars have been -chiefly or solely men. If some of us have fraternized with Belial, -others have walked, or sought to walk, with God no less genuinely -and fervently than any woman who ever breathed. In the matter of -spirituality, indeed, some of us in the past having been led to -believe that women knew more about the affairs of the other world -than men, sought to cultivate the spindle-legged, thin-chested, pale, -anæmic Christian as the type of humanity most acceptable to God and -serviceable to society; but we have gone back to the bishop of sturdy -frame and a reasonably healthy appetite as a more desirable mediator -between ourselves and heaven. - -From the standpoint of our present inquiry, what man in his various -types has been in the past is less pertinent than what he is at -present. To begin with, certainly the modern man is not a picturesque -figure. He no longer appeals to the feminine or any eye by virtue of -imposing apparel or accoutrements. Foreign army officers and servants -in livery are almost the only males who have not exchanged plumage for -sober woollens, tweeds, or serges, and the varied resplendent materials -and colors by means of which men used to distinguish themselves from -one another and to negative their evil-doings in the eyes of women have -been discarded. All men but one look alike to any woman, and even that -one is liable to be confounded with the rest of mankind when he is more -than half a block away. - -Nor is the homogeneous tendency limited to clothes; it includes -manners, morals, and point of view. The extreme types approximate each -other much more closely than formerly, and apart from criminals and -deliberately evil-minded persons, women have some ground for their -insinuation that we are all pretty much alike. Let it be said that this -effect is in one sense a feather in our caps. The nineteenth-century -Joan of Arc to the contrary notwithstanding, the modern man of the -world is a manifest improvement on his predecessor. He is no longer to -be found under the table after dinner as a social matter of course, and -three-bottles-to-a-guest festivities have ceased to be an aristocratic -function. Though on occasions still he will fumble with the latch-key, -he mounts the stairs very little, if at all, after midnight with the -nonchalance of self-congratulatory sobriety, and all those dire scenes -of woman on the staircase with a lighted candle looking down at her -prostrate lord and master belong to an almost dim past. True it may -be that the man of the world fears God no more than formerly, but he -has learned to have a wholesome dread of Bright’s disease, the insane -asylum, and those varied forms of sudden and premature death which are -included under the reportorial head of heart-failure. Mere brutishness -in its various forms is less apparent. The coarse materialist still -swaggers in public places and impudently puffs a cigar in the face of -modesty, but he serves no longer as a model for envious contemporaries -or an object of hero-worship to the rising generation. Good taste, if -nothing better, has checked man’s tendencies to make a beast of himself -in public or in private. - -Similarly, also, the type of man to whom we look up most proudly and -confidently to-day is not altogether the same. The model whom we were -urged, and whom we sought of old to imitate, was he who wrestled with -God on the mountain-top, without a thought of earth’s smoke and din and -wretchedness. Human life and its joys and interests served for him as a -homily on vanity, or was regarded as a degradation in comparison with -the revelations obtained by the priest, poet, or devotee of culture -through the vista of aspiring imagination or zeal. The conservative -man of affairs--vigorous, far-seeing, keenly alive to the joys and -interests of this life, strongly sympathetic on the humanitarian side, -a man of the world withal in a reasonable sense--has impressed his -personality on modern society more successfully than any other type. -The priest who cares not for his fellow-man, the poet whose dreams and -visions include no human interest or passion, the devotee of culture -who refines merely to refine, have been superseded, and in their stead -we have the man of the world who is interested in the world and for the -world. - -This change in the avowed aims and aspirations of man has not been -without certain apparently melancholy results and manifestations of -which society is feeling the effect at present, and which if allowed to -prevail too far will undo us. The removal of the gaze of the priest, -poet, and devotee of culture from the stars in contempt of earth, and -the substitution of earth-gazing as a method for understanding the -stars, has seemed to cast a damper on human imagination and has thereby -caused many excellent women and some men to weep. If materialism be -the science of trying to get the most out of this life, this is a -material age; but at the same time it should be remembered that man -in this age has ceased for the first time to be either a hypocrite -or a fool. Undoubtedly the process of becoming both sincere and -sensible, especially as it has substituted concern for the ignorant, -the oppressed, and the vicious of this earth about whom we know next to -nothing, in place of Pre-Raphaelite heavenly choirs, alabaster halls, -and saints in glory about whom we thought we knew everything, has been -a little trying for the rest of us as well as for the priests, poets, -and devotees of culture. But the women must not be discouraged; we -shall grow to the situation in time, and even the poets, who seem to be -most down in the mouth at present, will sooner or later find a fresh -well of inspiration by learning to study the reflection of the stars on -the earth instead of looking directly at them. Let them be patient, -though it be to death, and some day through others, if not through -themselves, the immortal verse will flow and the immortal lyre sound -again. - -Undoubtedly the modern man is at present a rather trying person to -woman, for woman would have been glad, now that she is coming into her -kingdom, to have him more of a crusader and less of a philosopher. To -behold him lacking in picturesqueness and a philosopher addicted to -compromise into the bargain is almost irritating to her, and she has -certainly some ground for criticism. The man who sits opposite to her -at the breakfast-table, even after he has overcome conservative fears -of nothing to live on and dawdled into matrimony, is a lovable but not -especially exciting person. He eats, works, and sleeps, does most of -the things which he ought to do and leaves undone a commendable number -of the things which he ought not to do, and is a rather respectable -member of society of the machine-made order. He works very hard to -supply her with money; he is kind to her and the children; he gives her -her head, as he calls it; and he acquiesces pleasantly enough in the -social plans which she entertains for herself and him, and ordinarily -he is sleepy in the evening. Indeed, in moments of most serious -depression she is tempted to think of him as a superior chore-man, a -comparison which haunts her even in church. She would like, with one -fell swoop of her broom, to clear the world of the social evil, the -fruit of the grape, tobacco, and playing cards, to introduce drastic -educational reforms which would, by kindergarten methods, familiarize -every one on earth with art and culture, and to bring to pass within -five, or possibly six years, a golden age of absolute reform inspired -and established by woman. Life for her at present means one vast camp -of committee meetings, varied only by frequent cups of tea; and that -steaming beverage continues prominent in her radiant vision of the -coming millennium. No wonder it disconcerts and annoys her to find so -comparatively little enthusiastic confidence in the immediate success -of her fell swoop, and to have her pathway blocked by grave or lazy -ifs and buts and by cold contradictions of fact. No wonder she abhors -compromise; no wonder she regards the man who goes on using tobacco and -playing cards and drinking things stronger than tea as an inert and -soulless creature. - -Yet smile as we may at the dull, sorry place the world would be were -the golden age of her intention to come upon us over night like a cold -wave, is she not justified in regarding the average custom-made man -of the day as a highly respectable, well-to-do chore-man who earns -fair wages and goes to sleep at night contented with a good meal and -a pipe? Is he not machine-made? Sincere and wise as he is, now that -his gaze is fixed on the needs of earth, has he not the philosophy of -hygienic comfort and easy-going conservative materialism so completely -on the brain that he is in danger of becoming ordinary instead of just -a little lower than the angels? Let us consider him from this point of -view more in detail. - - - - -The _Case of Man_. - -II. - - -The young man of the present era on his twenty-first birthday is -apt to find himself in a very prudent and conservative atmosphere. -The difficulties of getting on are explained to him; he is properly -assured that, though there is plenty of room on the top benches, the -occupations and professions are crowded, if not overcrowded, and that -he must buckle down if he would succeed. It is obvious to him that the -field of adventure and fortune-seeking in foreign or strange places -is practically exhausted. It is open to him, to be sure, to go to -the North Pole in search of some one already there, or to study in a -cage in the jungles of Africa the linguistic value of the howls and -chatterings of wild animals; but these are manifestly poor pickings -compared with the opportunities of the past when a considerable -portion of the globe was still uninvestigated soil, and a reputation -or treasure-trove was the tolerably frequent reward of leaving the -rut of civilized life. It is plainly pointed out to him, too, that to -be florid is regarded as almost a mental weakness in intellectual or -progressive circles. He sees the lawyer who makes use of metaphor, -bombast, and the other arts of oratory, which used to captivate and -convince, distanced in the race for eminence by him who employs a -succinct, dispassionate, and almost colloquial form of statement. -He recognizes that in every department of human activity, from the -investigation of disease-germs to the management of railroads, steady, -undemonstrative marshallings of fact, and cautious, unemotional -deduction therefrom are considered the scientific and only appropriate -method. He knows that the expression of unusual or erratic ideas will -expose him to the stigma of being a crank, a reputation which, once -acquired, sticks like pitch, and that the betrayal of sentiment will -induce conservative people to put him on the suspected list. - -All this is imbibed by him as it should be, in the interest of -sincerity and sense. Under the sobering restraint of it the young man -begins to make his way with enthusiasm and energy, but circumspectly -and deliberately. He mistrusts everything that he cannot pick to -pieces on the spot and analyze, and though he is willing to be amused, -beguiled, or even temporarily inspired by appeals to his imagination -or emotions, he puts his doubts or qualms aside next morning at the -behest of business. He wishes to get on. He is determined not to allow -anything to interfere with that, and he understands that that is to -be accomplished partly by hard work and partly by becoming a good -fellow and showing common-sense. This is excellent reasoning until one -examines too closely what is expected of him as a good fellow, and what -is required of him in the name of common-sense. - -There have been good fellows in every age, and some of them have -been tough specimens. Our good fellow is almost highly respectable. -He wishes to live as long as he can, and to let others live as long -as they can. His patron saints are his doctor, his bank account, -prudence, and general toleration. If he were obliged to specify the -vice not covered by the statute law which he most abhors, he would -probably name slopping over. He aims to be genial, sympathetic, and -knowing, but not obtrusively so, and he is becomingly suspicious -and reticent regarding everything which cannot be demonstrated on -a chart like an international yacht-race or a medical operation. -He is quietly and moderately licentious, and justifies himself -satisfactorily but mournfully on hygienic grounds or on the plea of -masculine inevitability. He works hard, if he has to, for he wishes -to live comfortably by the time he is forty, and comfort means, as it -ought to mean, an attractive wife, an attractive establishment, and -an attractive income. An imprudent marriage seems to him one of the -most egregious forms of slopping over. If he hears that two of his -contemporaries are engaged, his first inquiry is, “What have they to -live on?” and if the answer is unsatisfactory, they fall a peg or two -in his estimation, and he is likely, the next time he feels mellow -after dinner, to descant on the impropriety of bringing children into -the world who may be left penniless orphans. If he falls in love -himself before he feels that his pecuniary position warrants it, he -tries to shake out the arrow, and, if that fails, he cuts it out -deliberately under antiseptic treatment to avoid blood-poisoning. -All our large cities are full of young men who have undergone this -operation. To lose one’s vermiform appendix is a perilous yet blessed -experience; but this trifling with the human heart, however scientific -the excision, can scarcely be regarded as beneficial unless we are to -assume that it, like the fashionable sac, has become rudimentary. - -We see a great many allusions in our comic and satiric weeklies to -marrying for money, but the good fellow of the best type ordinarily -disdains such a proceeding. His self-respect is not offended but hugely -gratified if the young woman with whom he intends to ally himself -would be able immediately or prospectively to contribute a million or -so to the domestic purse; but he would regard a deliberate sale of -himself for cash as a dirty piece of business. On the other hand, he is -very business-like where his heart is engaged, and is careful not to -let his emotions or fancy get the better of him until he can see his -ship--and a well-freighted one at that--on the near horizon. And what -is to become of the young woman in the meantime? To let concealment, -like a worm in the bud, feed on a damask cheek may be more fatal than -masculine arrow extraction; for woman, less scientific in her methods -than man, is less able to avoid blood-poisoning. She doses herself, -probably, with anti-pyrine, burns her Emerson and her Tennyson, and -after a period of nervous prostration devotes herself to charity toward -the world at large with the exception of all good fellows. - -The good fellow after he marries continues to be a good fellow. He -adapts himself to the humanitarian necessities of the situation; he -becomes fond and domestic, almost oppressively so, and he is eager -to indulge the slightest wish or fancy of his mate, provided it be -within the bounds of easy-going rationalism. The conjugal pliability -of the American husband is a well-recognized original feature of -our institutions, nevertheless he is apt to develop kinks unless -he be allowed to be indulgent and companionable in his own way. He -works harder than ever, and she for whose sake he is ostensibly -toiling is encouraged to make herself fetching and him comfortable as -progressively as his income will permit. When the toil of the week -is over he looks for his reward in the form of a Welsh-rarebit with -theatrical celebrities, a little game of poker within his means, or, -if he be musical, a small gathering of friends to sing or play, if -possible in a so-called Bohemian spirit. It irks him to stand very -upright or to converse for long, whether in masculine or feminine -society. He likes to sprawl and to be entertained with the latest bit -of humor, but he is willing, on a pleasant Sunday or holiday, to take -exercise in order to perspire freely, and then to lie at ease under -a tree or a bank, pleasantly refreshed with beer and tobacco, and at -peace with the world. He prefers to have her with him everywhere, -except at the little game of poker, and is conscious of an aching void -if she be not at hand to help him recuperate, philosophize, and admire -the view. But he expects her to do what he likes, and expects her to -like it too. - -In no age of the world has the reasoning power of man been in better -working order than at present. With all due respect to the statistics -which show that the female is beginning to outstrip the male in -academic competitive examinations, one has only to keep his ears and -eyes open in the workaday world in order to be convinced that man’s -purely mental processes suggest a razor and woman’s a corkscrew. -The manager of corporate interests, the lawyer, the historian, the -physician, the chemist, and the banker seek to-day to probe to the -bottom that which they touch, and to expose to the acid of truth -every rosy theory and seductive prospectus. This is in the line of -progress; but to be satisfied with this alone would speedily reduce -human society to the status of a highly organized racing stable. If man -is to be merely a jockey, who is to ride as light as he can, there -is nothing to be said; but even on that theory is it not possible to -train too fine? With eloquence tabooed as savoring of insincerity, -with conversation as a fine art starved to death, with melody in -music sniffed at as sensational, and fancy in literature condemned as -unscientific, with the loosening of all the bonds of conventionality -which held civilization to the mark in matters of taste and elegance, -and with a general doing away with color and emotion in all the -practical affairs of life out of regard to the gospel of common-sense -and machine-made utility, the jockey now is riding practically in his -own skin. - -One has to go back but a little way in order to encounter among -the moving spirits of society a radically different attitude. -Unquestionably the temper of the present day is the result of a -vigorous reaction against false or maudlin sentiment, florid drivel, -and hypocritical posturing; but certainly a Welsh-rarebit at midnight, -with easy-going companions, is a far remove as a spiritual stimulus -from bread eaten in tears at the same hour. As has been intimated, -this exaggeration of commonplaceness will probably right itself in -time, but man’s lack of susceptibility to influences and impressions -which cannot be weighed, fingered, smelt, looked at, or tasted, seems -to justify at present the strictures of the modern woman, who, with -all her bumptiousness, would fain continue to reverence him. Some in -the van of feminine progress would be glad to see the inspiration and -direction of all matters--spiritual, artistic, and social--apportioned -to woman as her sole rightful prerogative, and consequently to see man -become veritably a superior chore-man. Fortunately the world of men -and women is likely to agree with Barbara that mutual sympathy and -co-operation in these matters between the sexes are indispensable to -the healthy development of human society. - -But even assuming that women were ready to accept the responsibility -and men were willing to renounce it, I, for one, fear that civilization -would find itself in a ditch rather speedily. All of us--we men, I -mean--recognize the purifying and deterrent influence of woman as -a Mentor and sweet critic at our elbows. We have learned to depend -upon her to prod us when we lag, and to save us from ourselves when -our brains get the better of our hearts. But, after all, woman is a -clinging creature. She has been used to playing second fiddle; and it -is quite a different affair to lead an orchestra. To point the way to -spiritual or artistic progress needs, first of all, a clear intellect -and a firm purpose, even though they alone are not sufficient. Woman is -essentially yielding and impressionable. At the very moment when the -modern Joan of Arc would be doing her best to make the world a better -place, would not eleven other women out of the dozen be giving way to -the captivating plausibility of some emotional situation? - -As an instance of what she is already capable of from a social point -of view, now that she has been given her head, may well be cited the -feverish eagerness with which some of the most highly cultivated -and most subtly evolved American women of our large cities vie with -each other for intimacy with artistic foreign lions of their own sex -known to be unchaste. They seem to regard it as a privilege to play -hostess to, or, at least, to be on familiar terms with, actresses, -opera-singers, and other public characters quietly but notoriously -erotic, the plea in each case being that they are ready to forgive, -to forget, and ignore for the sake of art and the artist. Yes, ignore -or forget, if you choose, so far as seeing the artist act or hearing -her sing in public is concerned, where there are no social ceremonies -or intercourse; but let us please remember at the same time that -even those effete nations who believe that the world would be a dull -place without courtesans, insist on excluding such persons from their -drawing-rooms. Indeed there is reason to believe that some of the -artists in question have become hilarious, when out of sight of our -hospitable shores, over the wonders of American social usages among -the pure and cultivated women. Before our young men will cease to -sow wild oats their female relations must cease to run after other -men’s mistresses. Decidedly, the modern Joan of Arc to the contrary -notwithstanding, man cannot afford to abdicate just yet. But he needs -to mend his hedges and to look after his preserves. - - - - -The _Case of Woman_. - -I. - - -A great many men, who are sane and reasonable in other matters, allow -themselves, on the slightest provocation, to be worked up into a fever -over the aspirations of woman. They decline to listen to argument, -grow red in the face, and saw the air with their hands, if they do -not pound on the table, to express their views on the subject--which, -by the way, are as out of date and old-fashioned as a pine-tree -shilling. They remind one of the ostrich in that they seem to imagine, -because they have buried their heads in the sand, nothing has happened -or is happening around them. They confront the problem of woman’s -emancipation as though it were only just being broached instead of in -the throes of delivery. - -For instance, my friend, Mr. Julius Cæsar, who though a conservative, -cautious man by nature, is agreeably and commendably liberal in other -matters, seems to be able to see only one side of this question. And -one side seems to be all he wishes to see. “Take my wife,” he said -to me the other day; “as women go she is a very clever and sensible -woman. She was given the best advantages in the way of school-training -open to young ladies of her day; she has accomplishments, domestic -virtues, and fine religious instincts, and I adore her. But what does -she know of politics? She couldn’t tell you the difference between a -senator and an alderman, and her mind is practically a blank on the -tariff or the silver question. I tell you, my dear fellow, that if -woman is allowed to leave the domestic hearth and play ducks and drakes -with the right of suffrage, every political caucus will become a retail -drygoods store. If there is one thing which makes a philosopher despair -of the future of the race, it is to stand in a crowded drygoods store -and watch the jam of women perk and push and sidle and grab and covet -and go well-nigh crazy over things to wear. The average woman knows -about clothes, the next world, children, and her domestic duties. Let -her stick to her sphere. A woman at a caucus? Who would see that my -dinner was properly cooked, eh?” - -One would suppose from these remarks that the male American citizen -spends his days chiefly at caucuses; whereas, as we all know when we -reflect, he goes perhaps twice a year, if he be a punctilious patriot -like Julius Cæsar, and if not, probably does not go at all. If the -consciousness that his wife could vote at a caucus would act as a spur -to the masculine political conscience, the male American citizen could -well afford to dine at a restaurant on election-days, or to cook his -own food now and then. - -Of course, even a man with views like Julius Cæsar would be sorry to -have his wife the slavish, dollish, or unenlightened individual which -she was apt to be before so-called women’s rights were heard of. As -he himself has proclaimed, he adores his wife, and he is, moreover, -secretly proud of her æsthetic presentability. Without being an -advanced woman, Dolly Cæsar has the interests of the day and hour at -her fingers’ ends, can talk intelligently on any subject, whether -she knows anything about it or not, and is decidedly in the van, -though she is not a leader. Julius does not take into account, when -he anathematizes the sex because of its ambitions, the difference -between her and her great-grandmother. He believes his wife to be a -very charming specimen of what a woman ought to be, and that, barring -a few differences of costume and hair arrangement, she is practically -her great-grandmother over again. Fatuous Julius! There is where he is -desperately in error. Dolly Cæsar’s great-grandmother may have been a -radiant beauty and a famous housekeeper, but her brain never harbored -one-tenth of the ideas and opinions which make her descendant so -attractive. - -Those who argue on this matter like Julius Cæsar fail to take into -account the gradual, silent results of time; and this is true of the -results to come as well as those which have accrued. When the suffrage -question is mooted one often hears sober men, more dispassionate men -than Julius--Perkins, for instance, the thin, nervous lawyer and father -of four girls, and a sober man indeed--ask judicially whether it is -possible for female suffrage to be a success when not one woman in a -thousand would know what was expected of her, or how to vote. “I tell -you,” says Perkins, “they are utterly unfitted for it by training and -education. Four-fifths of them wouldn’t vote if they were allowed to, -and every one knows that ninety-nine women out of every hundred are -profoundly ignorant of the matters in regard to which they would cast -their ballots. Take my daughters; fine girls, talented, intelligent -women--one of them a student of history; but what do they know of -parties, and platforms, and political issues in general?” - -Perkins is less violently prejudiced than Julius Cæsar. He neither -saws the air nor pounds on the table. Indeed, I have no doubt he -believes that he entertains liberal, unbiassed views on the subject. -I wonder, then, why it never occurs to him that everything which is -new is adopted gradually, and that the world has to get accustomed to -all novel situations. I happened to see Mr. Perkins the first time he -rode a bicycle on the road, and his performance certainly justified -the prediction that he would look like a guy to the end of his days, -and yet he glides past me now with the ease and nonchalance of a -possible “scorcher.” Similarly, if women were given universal suffrage, -there would be a deal of fluttering in the dove-cotes for the first -generation or so. Doubtless four-fifths of womankind would refuse or -neglect to vote at all, and at least a quarter of those who went to the -polls would cast their ballots as tools or blindly. But just so soon as -it was understood that it was no less a woman’s duty to vote than it -was to attend to her back hair, she would be educated from that point -of view, and her present crass ignorance of political matters would be -changed into at least a form of enlightenment. Man prides himself on -his logic, but there is nothing logical in the argument that because a -woman knows nothing about anything now, she can never be taught. If we -have been content to have her remain ignorant for so many centuries, -does it not savor both of despotism and lack of reasonableness to cast -her ignorance in her teeth and to beat her about the head with it now -that she is eager to rise? Decidedly it is high time for the man who -orates tempestuously or argues dogmatically in the name of conservatism -against the cause of woman on such flimsy pleas as these, to cease his -gesticulations and wise saws. The modern woman is a potential reality, -who is bound to develop and improve, in another generation or two, as -far beyond the present interesting type as Mrs. Julius Cæsar is an -advance on her great-grandmother. - -On the other hand, why do those who have woman’s cause at heart lay -such formal stress on the right of the ballot as a factor in her -development? There can be no doubt that, if the majority of women -wish to vote on questions involving property or political interests, -they will be enabled to do so sooner or later. It is chiefly now the -conviction in the minds of legislatures that a large number of the -intelligent women of their communities do not desire to exercise the -right of suffrage which keeps the bars down. Doubtless these bodies -will yield one after another to the clamor of even a few, and the -experiment will be tried. It may not come this year or the next, but -many busy people are so certain that its coming is merely a question of -time that they do not allow themselves to be drawn into the fury of the -fray. When it comes, however, it will come as a universal privilege, -and not with a social or property qualification. I mention this -simply for the enlightenment of those amiable members of the sex to -be enfranchised who go about sighing and simpering in the interest of -drawing the line. That question was settled a century ago. The action -taken may have been an error on the part of those who framed the laws, -but it has been settled forever. There would be no more chance of the -passage by the legislature of one of the United States of a statute -giving the right of suffrage to a limited class of women than there -would be of one prescribing that only the good-looking members of that -sex should be allowed to marry. - -Many people, who believe that woman should be denied no privilege -enjoyed by man which she really desires to exercise, find much -difficulty in regarding the right of suffrage as the vital end which -it assumes in the minds of its advocates. One would suppose, by the -clamor on the subject, that the ballot would enable her to change her -spots in a twinkling, and to become an absolutely different creation. -Lively imaginations do not hesitate to compare the proposed act of -emancipation with the release of the colored race from bondage. We are -appealed to by glowing rhetoric which celebrates the equity of the case -and the moral significance of the impending victory. But the orators -and triumphants stop short at the passage of the law and fail to tell -us what is to come after. We are assured, indeed, that it will be all -right, and that woman’s course after the Rubicon is crossed will be -one grand march of progress to the music of the spheres; but, barring -a pæan of this sort, we are given no light as to what she intends to -do and become. She has stretched out her hand for the rattle and is -determined to have it, but she does not appear to entertain any very -definite ideas as to what she is going to do with it after she has it. - -Unquestionably, the development of the modern woman is one of the most -interesting features of civilization to-day. But is it not true that -the cause of woman is one concern, and the question of woman suffrage -another? And are they not too often confounded, even deliberately -confounded, by those who are willing to have them appear to be -identical? Supposing that to-morrow the trumpet should sound and the -walls of Jericho fall, and every woman be free to cast her individual -ballot without let or hindrance from one confine of the civilized world -to another, what would it amount to after all by way of elucidating -the question of her future evolution? For it must be remembered that, -apart from the question of her development in general, those who are -clamoring for the ballot have been superbly vague so far as to the -precise part which the gentle sex is to play in the political arena -after she gets her rattle. They put their sisters off with the general -assertion that things in the world, politically speaking, will be -better, but neither their sisters nor their brothers are able to get a -distinct notion of the platform on which woman means to stand after she -becomes a voter. Is she going to enter into competition with men for -the prizes and offices, to argue, manipulate, hustle, and do generally -the things which have to be done in the name of political zeal and -activity? Is it within the vista of her ambition to become a member of, -and seek to control, legislative bodies, to be a police commissioner or -a member of Congress? Those in the van decline to answer, or at least -they do not answer. It may be, to be sure, the wisdom of the serpent -which keeps them non-committal, for they stand, as it were, between the -devil and the deep sea in that, though they and their supporters would -perhaps like to declare boldly in favor of competition, or at least -participation, in the duties and honors, they stand in wholesome awe of -the hoarse murmur from the ranks of their sisters, “We don’t wish to be -like men, and we have no intention of competing with them on their own -lines.” Accordingly, the leaders seek refuge in the safe but indefinite -assertion that of course women will never become men, but they have -thus far neglected to tell us what they are to become. - -It really seems as though it were time for woman, in general congress -of the women’s clubs assembled, to make a reasonably full and clear -statement of her aims and principles--a declaration of faith which -shall give her own sex and men the opportunity to know precisely -what she is driving at. Her progress for the last hundred years has -been gratifying to the world, with the exception of pig-headed or -narrow-minded men, and civilization has been inestimably benefitted by -the broadening of her intelligence and her interests. But she has now -reached a point where there is a parting of the ways, and the world -would very much like to know which she intends to take. The atmosphere -of the women’s clubs is mysterious but unsuggestive, and consequently -many of us feel inclined to murmur with the poet, “it is clever, but -we don’t know what it means.” Unrepressed nervous mental activity -easily becomes social affectation or tomfoolery, in the absence of a -controlling aim or purpose. To exhaust one’s vitality in papers or -literary teas, merely to express or simulate individual culture or -freedom, may not land one in an insane asylum, but it is about as -valuable to society, as an educating force, as the revolutions of -the handle of a freezer, when the crank is off, are valuable to the -production of ice-cream. For the benefit of such a congress, if haply -it should be called together later, it will not be out of place to -offer a few suggestions as to her future evolution. In this connection -it seems to me imperative to go back to the original poetic conception -of woman as the wife and mother, the domestic helpmate and loving, -self-abnegating companion of man. Unedifying as this formula of -description may seem to the active-minded modern woman, it is obvious -that under existing physiological conditions she must remain the wife -and mother, even though she declines to continue domestic, loving, and -self-abnegating. And side by side with physiological conditions stands -the intangible, ineffable force of sexual love, the poetic, entrancing -ecstasy which no scientist has yet been able to reduce to a myth or to -explode. Schopenhauer, to be sure, would have us believe that it is -merely a delusion by which nature seeks to reproduce herself, but even -on this material basis the women’s clubs find themselves face to face -with an enemy more determined than any Amazon. A maid deluded becomes -the sorriest of club members. - -What vision of life is nobler and more exquisite than that of complete -and ideal marital happiness? To find it complete and ideal the modern -woman, with all her charms and abilities, must figure in it, I grant; -the mere domestic drudge; the tame, amiable house-cat; the doting doll, -are no longer pleasing parties of the second part. To admit so much as -this may seem to offer room for the argument that the modern woman of a -hundred years hence will make her of the poet’s dream of to-day appear -no less pitiable; but there we men are ready to take issue. We admit -our past tyranny, we cry “Peccavi,” yet we claim at the same time that, -having taken her to our bosoms as our veritable, loving companion and -helpmate, there is no room left, or very little room left, for more -progress in that particular direction. Her next steps, if taken, will -be on new lines, not by way of making herself an equal. And therefore -it is that we suggest the vision of perfect modern marital happiness -as the leading consideration to be taken into account in dealing with -this question. Even in the past, when woman was made a drudge and -encouraged to remain a fool, the poetry and joy and stimulus of life -for her, as well as for her despot mate, lay in the mystery of love, -its joys and responsibilities. Even then, if her life were robbed of -the opportunity to love and be loved, its savor was gone, however free -she might be from masculine tyranny and coercion. Similarly, after -making due allowance for the hyperbole as to the influence which woman -has on man when he has made up his mind to act to the contrary, there -is no power which works for righteousness upon him comparable to the -influence of woman. There is always the possibility that the woman a -man loves may not be consciously working for righteousness, but the -fact that he believes so is the essential truth, even though he be -the victim of self-delusion. This element of the case is pertinent to -the question whether woman would really try to reform the world, if -she had the chance, rather than to this particular consideration. The -point of the argument is that the dependence of each sex on the other, -and the loving sympathy between them, which is born of dissimilarity, -is the salt of human life. The eternal feminine is what we prize in -woman, and wherever she deflects from this there does her power wane -and her usefulness become impaired. And conversely, the more and the -higher she advances along the lines of her own nature, the better for -the world. Nor does the claim that she has been hampered hitherto, and -consequently been unable to show what her attributes really are, seem -relevant; for it is only when she develops in directions which threaten -to clash with the eternal feminine that she encounters opposition or -serious criticism. And here even the excitability and unreasonableness -of such men as our friend Julius Cæsar find a certain justification. -Their fumes and fury, however unintelligent, proceed from an -instinctive repugnance to the departure or deviation from nature which -they find, or fear to find, in the modern woman. Once let them realize -that there was no danger of anything of the kind, and they would become -gentle as doves, if not all smiles and approval. - -There is no more beautiful and refining influence in the world than -that of an attractive and noble woman. Unselfishness, tenderness, -aspiring sentiment, long-suffering devotion, grace, tact, and -quickly divining intelligence are her prerogatives, and she stands -an ever-watchful guardian angel at the shoulder of man. The leading -poetic and elevating associations of life are linked with her name. The -lover’s passion, the husband’s worship, the son’s reverential affection -are inspired by her. The strong man stays his hand and sides with mercy -or honor when his mother speaks within him. In homelier language, she -is the keeper of the hearth and home, the protector and trainer of her -children, the adviser, consoler, and companion of her husband, father, -son, brother, or other masculine associates. - -Now, the modern woman, up to this point, has been disposed, on the -whole, to regard this as the part which she is to play in the drama of -life. At least she has not materially deviated from it. Her progress -has been simply in the way of enabling her to play that part more -intelligently and worthily, and not toward usurpation, excepting that -she claims the right to earn her daily bread. Higher education in its -various branches has been the most signal fruit of her struggle for -enlightenment and liberty, and this is certainly in entire keeping with -the eternal feminine, and to-day seems indispensable to her suitable -development. By means of education similar to that lavished upon man -she has been enabled, it is true, to obtain employment of various -kinds hitherto withheld from her, but the positions of professor, -teacher, nurse, artist, and clerk, are amplifications of her natural -aptitudes rather than encroachments. She has, however, finally reached -the stage where she will soon have to decide whether the hearth and -the home or down-town is to be the principal theatre of her activity -and influence. Is she or is she not to participate with man in the -tangible, obvious management of the affairs of the world? - - - - -The _Case of Woman_. - -II. - - -The mystic oracles of the women’s clubs do not give a straightforward -answer to this question. Yet there are mutterings, mouthings, and -signs from them which tend to arouse masculine suspicions. To use -a colloquialism, woman fancies herself very much at present, and -she spends considerable time in studying the set of her mind in the -looking-glass. And her serenity is justified. In spite of ridicule, -baiting, and delay for several generations, she has demonstrated her -ability and fitness to do a number of things which we had adjudged her -incapable of doing. She can almost take care of herself in the street -after dark. She has become a most valuable member of committees to -ameliorate the condition of the poor, the sick, and the insane. She has -become the president and professors of colleges founded in her behalf. -The noble and numerous army of teachers, typewriters, salesladies, -nurses, and women doctors (including Christian Scientists), stands as -ample proof of her intention and capacity to strike out for herself. -No wonder, perhaps, that she is a little delirious and mounted in the -head, and that she is tempted to exclaim, “Go to, I will do more than -this. Why should I not practise law, and sell stocks, wheat, corn, and -exchange, control the money markets of the world, administer trusts, -manage corporations, sit in Congress, and be President of the United -States?” - -The only things now done by man which the modern woman has not yet -begun to cast sheep’s eyes at are labor requiring much physical -strength and endurance, and military service. She is prepared to admit -that she can never expect to be so muscular and powerful in body as -man. But this has become rather a solace than a source of perplexity -to her. Indeed, the women’s clubs are beginning to whisper under their -breath, “Man is fitted to build and hew and cut and lift, and to do -everything which demands brute force. We are not. We should like to -think, plan, and execute. Let him do the heavy work. If he wishes to -fight he may. Wars are wicked, and we shall vote against them and -refuse to take part in them.” - -If woman is going in for this sort of thing, of course she needs -the ballot. If she intends to manage corporations and do business -generally, she ought to have a voice in the framing of the laws -which manifest the policy of the state. But to earn one’s living as -a college professor, nurse, typewriter, saleslady, or clerk, or to -sit on boards of charity, education, or hygiene, is a far remove from -becoming bank presidents, merchants, judges, bankers, or members of -Congress. The one affords the means by which single women can earn a -decent and independent livelihood, or devote their energies to work -useful to society; the other would necessitate an absolute revolution -in the habits, tastes, interests, proclivities, and nature of woman. -The noble army of teachers, typewriters, nurses, and salesladies are in -the heels of their boots hoping to be married some day or other. They -have merely thrown an anchor to windward and taken up a calling which -will enable them to live reasonably happy if the right man does not -appear, or passes by on the other side. Those who sit on boards, and -who are more apt to be middle-aged, are but interpreting and fulfilling -the true mission of the modern woman, which is to supplement and modify -the point of view of man, and to extend the kind of influence which -she exercises at home to the conduct of public interests of a certain -class. - -Now, some one must keep house. Some one must cook, wash, dust, sweep, -darn, look after the children, and in general grease the wheels of -domestic activity. If women are to become merchants, and manage -corporations, who will bring up our families and manage the home? -The majority of the noble army referred to are not able to escape -from making their own beds and cooking their own breakfasts. If they -occupied other than comparatively subordinate positions they would -have to call Chinatown to the rescue; for the men would decline with -thanks, relying on their brute force to protect them, and the other -women would toss their heads and say “Make your own beds, you nasty -things. We prefer to go to town too.” In fact the emancipation of -women, so far as it relates to usurpation of the work of man, does -not mean much in actual practice yet, in spite of the brave show and -bustle of the noble army. The salesladies get their meals somehow, -and the domestic hearth is still presided over by the mistress of -the house and her daughters. But this cannot continue to be the case -if women are going to do everything which men do except lift weights -and fight. For we all know that our mothers, wives, and sisters, -according to their own affidavits, have all they can do already to -fulfil the requirements of modern life as mothers, wives, and sisters -in the conventional yet modern sense. Many of them tell us that they -would not have time to vote, to say nothing of qualifying themselves -to vote. Indisputably they cannot become men and yet remain women in -the matter of their daily occupations, unless they discover some new -panacea against nervous prostration. The professions are open; the laws -will allow them to establish banks and control corporate interests; but -what is to become of the eternal feminine in the pow-wow, bustle, and -materializing rush and competition of active business life? Whatever -a few individuals may do, there seems to be no immediate or probably -eventual prospect of a throwing off by woman of domestic ties and -duties. Her physical and moral nature alike are formidable barriers in -the way. - -Why, then, if women are not going to usurp or share to any great extent -the occupations of men, and become familiar with the practical workings -of professional, business, and public affairs, are they ever likely to -be able to judge so intelligently as men as to the needs of the state? -To hear many people discuss the subject, one would suppose that all -the laws passed by legislative bodies were limited to questions of -ethics and morality. If all political action were reduced to debates -and ballots on the use of liquor, the social evil, and other moral -or humanitarian topics, the claim that women ought to be allowed and -encouraged to vote would be much stronger--that is, assuming that she -herself preferred to use her influence directly instead of indirectly. -But the advocates of female suffrage seem to forget that three-fifths -of the laws passed relate to matters remotely if at all bearing upon -ethics, and involve considerations of public policy from the point of -view of what is best for the interests of the state and the various -classes of individuals which compose it. We do not always remember -in this age of afternoon teas and literary papers that the state is -after all an artificial body, a form of compact under which human -beings agree to live together for mutual benefit and protection. -Before culture, æstheticism, or even ethics can be maintained there -must be a readiness and ability to fight, if the necessity arises, and -a capacity to do heavy work. Moreover, there must be ploughed fields -and ship-yards and grain-elevators and engines and manufactories, and -all the divers forms and phases of industrial and commercial endeavor -and enterprise by which men earn their daily bread. If woman is going -to participate in the material activities of the community she will -be fit to deal with the questions which relate thereto, but otherwise -she must necessarily remain unable to form a satisfactory judgment as -to the merits of more than one-half the measures upon which she would -be obliged to vote. Nor is it an argument in point that a large body -of men is in the same predicament. Two evils do not make a benefit. -There is a sufficient number of men conversant with every separate -practical question which arises to insure an intelligent examination -of it. The essential consideration is, what would the state gain, if -woman suffrage were adopted, except an enlarged constituency of voters? -What would woman, by means of the ballot, add to the better or smoother -development of the social system under which we live? - -Unless the eternal feminine is to be sacrificed or to suffer, it -seems to me that her sole influence would be an ethical or moral one. -There are certainly strong grounds for the assumption that she would -point the way to, or at least champion, the cause of reforms which -man has perpetually dilly-dallied with and failed to do battle for. -To be sure, many of her most virtuous endeavors would be likely to be -focussed on matters where indulgences and weaknesses chiefly masculine -were concerned--such as the liquor problem; but an alliance between -her vote and that of the minority of men would probably be a blessing -to the world, even though she showed herself somewhat a tyrant or a -fanatic. Her advocacy of measures calculated to relieve society of -abuses and curses, which have continued to afflict it because men have -been only moderately in earnest for a change, could scarcely fail to -produce valuable results. Perhaps this is enough in itself to outweigh -the ignorance which she would bring to bear on matters which did not -involve ethical or humanitarian principles; and it is indisputably -the most legitimate argument in favor of woman suffrage. The notion -that women ought to vote simply because men do is childish and born -of vanity. On the other hand, if the state is to be a gainer by her -participation in the perplexities of voting, the case takes on a very -different aspect. - -I have been assuming that the influence of woman would be in behalf -of ethics, but my wife Barbara assures me that I am thereby begging -the question. She informs me that I have too exalted an idea of -woman and her aims. She has confided to me that, though there is a -number of noble and forceful women in every community, the general -average, though prolific of moral and religious advice to men by way -of fulfilling a sort of traditional feminine duty, is at heart rather -flighty and less deeply interested in social progress than my sex. -This testimony, taken in connection with the reference of Julius Cæsar -to the disillusioning effect of a crowd of women in a drygoods store, -introduces a new element into the discussion. Frankly, my estimate of -women has always been high, and possibly unduly exalted. It may be -I have been deceived by the moral and religious advice offered into -believing that women are more serious than they really are. Reflection -certainly does cause one to recollect that comparatively few women -like to dwell on or to discuss for more than a few minutes any serious -subject which requires earnest thought. They prefer to skim from one -thing to another like swallows and to avoid dry depths. Those in the -van will doubtless answer that this is due to the unfortunate training -which woman has been subjected to for so many generations. True, in a -measure; but ought she not, before she is allowed to vote, on the plea -of bringing benefit to the state as an ethical adviser, to demonstrate -by more than words her ethical superiority? - -We all know that women drink less intoxicating liquor than men, and -are less addicted to fleshly excesses. Yet the whole mental temper -and make-up of each sex ought to be taken into account in comparing -them together; and with all the predisposition of a gallant and -susceptible man to say the complimentary thing, I find myself asking -the question whether the average woman does not prefer to jog along -on a worsted-work-domestic-trusting-religious-advice-giving basis, -rather than to grapple in a serious way with the formidable problems -of living. At any rate I, for one, before the right of suffrage is -bestowed upon her, would like to be convinced that she as a sex is -really earnest-minded. If one stops to think, it is not easy to show -that, excepting where liquor, other women, and rigid attendance at -church are concerned, she has been wont to show any very decided bent -for, or interest in, the great reforms of civilization--that is, -nothing to distinguish her from a well-equipped and thoughtful man. It -is significant, too, that where women in this country have been given -the power to vote in local affairs, they have in several instances -shown themselves to be more solicitous for the triumph of a religious -creed or faction than to promote the public welfare. - -It is extremely probable, if not certain, that the laws of all -civilized states will eventually be amended so as to give women the -same voice in the affairs of government as men. But taking all the -factors of the case into consideration, there seems to be no pressing -haste for action. Even admitting for the sake of argument that woman’s -apparent lack of seriousness is due to her past training, and that -she is really the admirably earnest spirit which one is lured into -believing her until he reflects, there can assuredly be no question -that the temper and proclivities of the very large mass of women are -not calculated at present to convict man of a lack of purpose by virtue -of shining superiority in persevering mental and moral aggressiveness. -Not merely the drygoods counter and the milliner’s store with their -engaging seductions, but the ball-room, the fancy-work pattern, the -sensational novel, nervous prostration, the school-girl’s giggle, the -tea-pot without food, and a host of other tell-tale symptoms, suggest -that there is a good deal of the old Eve left in the woman of to-day. -And bless her sweet heart, Adam is in no haste to have it otherwise. -Indeed, the eternal feminine seems to have staying qualities which bid -fair to outlast the ages. - - - - -The _Conduct of Life_. - -I. - - -Now that more than a century has elapsed since our independence as -a nation was accomplished, and we are sixty million strong, what do -we stand for in the world? What is meant by the word American, and -what are our salient qualities as a people? What is the contribution -which we have made or are making to the progress of society and the -advancement of civilization? - -There certainly used to be, and probably there is, no such egregiously -patriotic individual in the world as an indiscriminately patriotic -American, and there is no more familiar bit of rhetoric extant than -that this is the greatest nation on earth. The type of citizen who -gave obtrusive vent to this sentiment, both at home and abroad, is -less common than formerly; nevertheless his clarion tones are still -invariably to be heard in legislative assemblies when any opportunity -is afforded to draw a comparison between ourselves and other nations. -His extravagant and highfalutin boastings have undoubtedly been the -occasion of a certain amount of seemingly lukewarm patriotism on the -part of the educated and more intelligent portion of the American -public, an attitude which has given foreigners the opportunity to -declare that the best Americans are ashamed of their own institutions. -But that apparent disposition to apologize already belongs to a past -time. No American, unless a fool, denies to-day the force of the -national character, whatever he or she may think of the behavior of -individuals; and on the other hand, is it not true that every State -in the Union has a rising population of young and middle-aged people -who have discovered, Congress and the public schools to the contrary -notwithstanding, that we do not know everything, and that the pathway -of national progress is more full of perplexities than our forests -were of trees when Daniel Boone built his log cabin in the wilds of -Kentucky? In short, the period of unintelligent jubilation on one -side, and carping cynicism on the other, have given place to a soberer -self-satisfaction. We cannot--why should we?--forget that our territory -is enormous, and that we soon shall be, if we are not already, the -richest nation on earth; that the United States is the professed asylum -and Mecca of hope for the despondent and oppressed of other countries; -and that we are the cynosure of the universe, as being the most -important exemplification of popular government which the world has -ever seen. At the same time, the claims put forth by our progenitors, -that American society is vastly superior to any other, and that the -effete world of Europe is put to the blush by the civic virtues of -the land of the free and the home of the brave, are no longer urged -except for the purposes of rodomontade. The average American of fifty -years ago--especially the frontiersman and pioneer, who swung his -axe to clear a homestead, and squirted tobacco-juice while he tilled -the prairie--really believed that our customs, opinions, and manner -of living, whether viewed from the moral, artistic, or intellectual -standpoint, were a vast improvement on those of any other nation. - -But though most of us to-day recognize the absurdity of such a view, -we are most of us at the same time conscious of the belief that there -is a difference between us and the European which is not imaginary, -and which is the secret of our national force and originality. -International intercourse has served to open our eyes until they -have become as wide as saucers, with the consequence that, in -hundreds of branches of industry and art, we are studying Old World -methods; moreover, the pioneer strain of blood has been diluted by -hordes of immigrants of the scum of the earth. In spite of both these -circumstances, our faith in our originality and in the value of it -remains unshaken, and we are no less sure at heart that our salient -traits are noble ones, than the American of fifty years ago was sure -that we had the monopoly of all the virtues and all the arts. He really -meant only what we mean, but he had an unfortunate way of expressing -himself. We have learned better taste, and we do not hesitate nowadays -to devote our native humor to hitting hard the head of bunkum, which -used to be as sacred as a Hindoo god, and as rife as apple-blossoms in -this our beloved country. - -What is the recipe for Americanism--that condition of the system -and blood, as it were, which even the immigrant without an ideal to -his own soul, seems often to acquire to some extent as soon as he -breathes the air of Castle Garden? It is difficult to define it in -set speech, for it seems almost an illusive and intangible quality -of being when fingered and held up to the light. It seems to me to -be, first of all, a consciousness of unfettered individuality coupled -with a determination to make the most of self. One great force of -the American character is its naturalness, which proceeds from a -total lack of traditional or inherited disposition to crook the knee -to any one. It never occurs to a good American to be obsequious. In -vulgar or ignorant personalities this point of view has sometimes -manifested itself, and continues to manifest itself, in swagger or -insolence, but in the finer form of nature appears as simplicity -of an unassertive yet dignified type. Gracious politeness, without -condescension on the one hand, or fawning on the other, is noticeably -a trait of the best element of American society, both among men and -women. Indeed, so valuable to character and ennobling is this native -freedom from servility, that it has in many cases in the past made odd -and unconventional manner and behavior seem attractive rather than a -blemish. Unconventionality is getting to be a thing of the past in this -country, and the representative American is at a disadvantage now, both -at home and abroad, if he lacks the ways of the best social world; he -can no longer afford to ignore cosmopolitan usages, and to rely solely -on a forceful or imposing personality; the world of London and Paris, -of New York and Washington and Chicago, has ceased to thrill, and is -scarcely amused, if he shows himself merely in the guise of a splendid -intellectual buffalo. But the best Americanism of to-day reveals itself -no less distinctly and unequivocally in simplicity bred of a lack of -self-consciousness and a lack of servility of mind. It seems to carry -with it a birthright of self-respect, which, if fitly worn, ennobles -the humblest citizen. - -This national quality of self-respect is apt to be associated with -the desire for self-improvement or success. Indeed, it must engender -it, for it provides hope, and hope is the touchstone of energy. The -great energy of Americans is ascribed by some to the climate, and -it is probably true that the nervous temperaments of our people are -stimulated by the atmospheric conditions which surround us; but is it -not much more true that, just as it never occurs to the good American -to be servile, so he feels that his outlook upon the possibilities -of life is not limited or qualified, and that the world is really -his oyster? To be sure, this faith has been fostered by the almost -Aladdin-like opportunities which this great and rich new country of -ours has afforded. But whatever the reason for our native energy and -self-reliance, it indisputably exists, and is signally typical of the -American character. We are distinctly an ambitious, earnest people, -eager to make the most of ourselves individually, and we have attracted -the attention of the world by force of our independent activity of -thought and action. The extraordinary personality of Abraham Lincoln -is undoubtedly the best apotheosis yet presented of unadulterated -Americanism. In him the native stock was free from the foreign -influences and suggestions which affected, more or less, the people of -the East. His origin was of the humblest sort, and yet he presented -most saliently in his character the naturalness, nobility, and aspiring -energy of the nation. He made the most of himself by virtue of unusual -abilities, yet the key-note of their influence and force was a noble -simplicity and farsighted independence. In him the quintessence of the -Americanism of thirty years ago was summed up and expressed. In many -ways he was a riddle at first to the people of the cities of the East -in that, though their soul was his soul, his ways had almost ceased to -be their ways; but he stands before the world to-day as the foremost -interpreter of American ideas and American temper of thought as they -then existed. - -In the thirty years since the death of Abraham Lincoln the country has -been inundated with foreign blood. Irish, Germans, English, Poles, and -Scandinavians, mainly of the pauper or peasant class, have landed in -large numbers, settled in one State or another, and become a part of -the population. The West, at the time of the Civil War, was chiefly -occupied by settlers of New England or Eastern stock--pioneers from the -older cities and towns who had sought fortune and a freer life in the -new territory of prairies and unappropriated domain. The population -of the whole country to-day bears many different strains of blood in -its veins. The original settlers have chiefly prospered. The sons of -those who split rails or followed kindred occupations in the fifties, -and listened to the debates between Lincoln and Douglas, are the -proprietors of Chicago, Denver, Cincinnati, Minneapolis, and Topeka. -Johann Heintz now follows the plough and in turn squirts tobacco-juice -while he tills the prairie; and Louis Levinsky, Paul Petrinoff, and -Michael O’Neil forge the plough-shares, dig in the mine, or work in -the factory side by side with John Smith and any descendant of Paul -Revere who has failed to prosper in life’s battle. But this is not -all. Not merely are the plain people in the dilemma of being unable -to pronounce the names of their neighbors, but the same is getting to -be true of the well-to-do merchants and tradespeople of many of our -cities. The argus-eyed commercial foreigner has marked us for his own, -and his kith and kin are to-day coming into possession of our drygoods -establishments, our restaurants, our cigar stores, our hotels, our -old furniture haunts, our theatres, our jewelry shops, and what not. -One has merely to open a directory in order to find the names in any -leading branch of trade plentifully larded with Adolph Stein, Simon -Levi, Gustave Cohen, or something ending in berger. They sell our -wool; they float our loans; they manufacture our sugar, our whiskey, -and our beer; they influence Congress. They are here for what they can -make, and they do not waste their time in sentiment. They did not come -in time to reap the original harvest, but they have blown across the -ocean to help the free-born American spend his money in the process of -trying to out-civilize Paris and London. As a consequence, the leading -wholesale and retail ornamental industries of New York and of some -of our Western cities are in the grip of individuals whose surnames -have a foreign twang. Of course, they have a right to be here; it is -a free country, and no one can say them nay. But we must take them -and their wives and daughters, their customs and their opinions, into -consideration in making an estimate of who are the Americans of the -present. They have not come here for their health, as the phrase is, -but they have come to stay. We at present, in our social hunger and -thirst, supply the grandest and dearest market of the world for the -disposal of everything beautiful and costly and artistic which the Old -World possesses, and all the shopkeepers of Europe, with the knowledge -of generations on the tips of their tongues and in the corners of their -brains, have come over to coin dowries for their daughters in the land -of the free and the home of the brave. Many of them have already made -large fortunes in the process, and are beginning to con the pages of -the late Ward McAllister’s book on etiquette with a view to social -aggressiveness. - -Despite this infusion of foreign blood, the native stock and the -Anglo-Saxon nomenclature are still, of course, predominant in numbers. -There are some portions of the country where the late immigrant is -scarcely to be found. True also is it that these late-comers, like -the immigrants of fifty years ago, have generally been prompt in -appropriating the independent and energetic spirit typical of our -people. But there is a significant distinction to be borne in mind -in this connexion: The independent energy of the Americans of fifty -years ago, whether in the East or among the pioneers of the Western -frontier, was not, however crude its manifestations, mere bombastic -assertiveness, but the expression of a faith and the expression of -strong character. They were often ignorant, conceited, narrow, hard, -and signally inartistic; but they stood for principle and right as they -saw and believed it; they cherished ideals; they were firm as adamant -in their convictions; and God talked with them whether in the store or -workshop, or at the plough. This was essentially true of the rank and -file of the people, no less true and perhaps more true of the humblest -citizens than of the well-to-do and prominent. - -There can be little doubt that the foreign element which is now a part -of the American people represents neither a faith nor the expression -of ideals or convictions. The one, and the largest portion of it, is -the overflow and riff-raff of the so-called proletariat of Europe; -the other is the evidence of a hyena-like excursion for the purposes -of plunder. In order to be a good American it is not enough to become -independent and energetic. The desire to make the most of one’s self -is a relative term; it must proceed from principle and be nourished -by worthy, ethical aims; otherwise it satisfies itself with paltry -conditions, or with easy-going florid materialism. The thieving and -venality in municipal political affairs of the Irish-American, the dull -squalor and brutish contentment of the Russian-Pole, and the commercial -obliquity of vision and earthy ambitions of the German Jew, are factors -in our national life which are totally foreign to the Americanism for -which Abraham Lincoln stood. We have opened our gates to a horde of -economic ruffians and malcontents, ethical bankrupts and social thugs, -and we must needs be on our guard lest their aims and point of view be -so engrafted on the public conscience as to sap the vital principles -which are the foundation of our strength as a people. The danger from -this source is all the greater from the fact that the point of view -of the American people has been changed so radically during the last -thirty years as a secondary result of our material prosperity. We have -ceased to be the austere nation we once were, and we have sensibly -let down the bars in the manner of our living; we have recognized the -value of, and we enjoy, many things which our fathers put from them -as inimical to republican virtue and demoralizing to society. Contact -with older civilizations has made us wiser and more appreciative, and -with this growth of perspective and the acquirement of an eye for -color has come a liberality of sentiment which threatens to debauch us -unless we are careful. There are many, especially among the wealthy and -fashionable, who in their ecstasy over our emancipation are disposed -to throw overboard everything which suggests the old _régime_, and to -introduce any custom which will tend to make life more easy-going and -spectacular. And in this they are supported by the immigrant foreigner, -who would be only too glad to see the land of his adoption made to -conform in all its usages to the land of his birth. - -The conduct of life here has necessarily and beneficially been affected -by the almost general recognition that we have not a monopoly of all -the virtues, and by the adoption of many customs and points of view -recommended by cosmopolitan experience. The American people still -believe, however, that our civilization is not merely a repetition -of the older ones, and a duplication on new soil of the old social -tread-mill. That it must be so in a measure every one will admit, but -we still insist, and most of us believe, that we are to point the way -to a new dispensation. We believe, but at the same time when we stop to -think we find some difficulty in specifying exactly what we are doing -to justify the faith. It is easy enough to get tangled up in the stars -and stripes and cry “hurrah!” and to thrust the American eagle down the -throats of a weary universe, but it is quite another to command the -admiration of the world by behavior commensurate with our ambition and -self-confidence. Our forefathers could point to their own nakedness -as a proof of their greatness, but there seems to be some danger that -we, now that we have clothed ourselves--and clothed ourselves as -expensively as possible and not always in the best taste--will forget -the ideas and ideals for which those fathers stood, and let ourselves -be seduced by the specious doctrine that human nature is always human -nature, and that all civilizations are alike. To be sure, an American -now is apt to look and act like any other rational mortal, and there is -no denying that the Atlantic cable and ocean greyhound have brought the -nations of the world much closer together than they ever were before; -but this merely proves that we can become just like the others, only -worse, in case we choose to. But we intend to improve upon them. - -To those who believe that we are going to improve upon them it must be -rather an edifying spectacle to observe the doings and sayings of that -body of people in the city of New York who figure in the newspapers of -the day as “the four hundred,” “the smart set,” or “the fashionable -world.” After taking into full account the claims of the sensitive -city of Chicago, it may be truthfully stated that the city of New -York is the Paris of America. There are other municipalities which -are doing their best in their several ways to rival her, but it is -toward New York that all the eyes in the country are turned, and from -which they take suggestion as a cat laps milk. The rest of us are in a -measure provincial. Many of us profess not to approve of New York, but, -though we cross ourselves piously, we take or read a New York daily -paper. New York gives the cue alike to the Secretary of the Treasury -and (by way of London) to the social swell. The ablest men in the -country seek New York as a market for their brains, and the wealthiest -people of the country move to New York to spend the patrimony which -their rail-splitting fathers or grandfathers accumulated. Therefore -it is perfectly just to refer to the social life of New York as -representative of that element of the American people which has been -most blessed with brains or fortune, and as representative of our most -highly evolved civilization. It ought to be our best. The men and -women who contribute to its movement and influence ought to be the -pick of the country. But what do we find? We find as the ostensible -leaders of New York society a set of shallow worldlings whose whole -existence is given up to emulating one another in elaborate and -splendid inane social fripperies. They dine and wine and dance and -entertain from January to December. Their houses, whether in town or -at the fashionable watering-places to which they move in summer, are -as sumptuous, if not more so, than those of the French nobility in its -palmiest days, and their energies are devoted to the discovery of new -expensive luxuries and fresh titillating creature comforts. That such -a body of people should exist in this country after little more than -a century of democratic institutions is extraordinary, but much more -extraordinary is the absorbing interest which a large portion of the -American public takes in the doings and sayings of this fashionable -rump. There is the disturbing feature of the case. Whatever these -worldlings do is flashed over the entire country, and is copied into a -thousand newspapers as being of vital concern to the health and home of -the nation. The editors print it because it is demanded; because they -have found that the free-born American citizen is keenly solicitous to -know “what is going on in society,” and that he or she follows with -almost feverish interest and with open-mouthed absorption the spangled -and jewelled annual social circus parade which goes on in the Paris of -America. The public is indifferently conscious that underneath this -frothy upper-crust in New York there is a large number of the ablest -men and women of the country by whose activities the great educational, -philanthropic, and artistic enterprises of the day have been fostered, -promoted, and made successful; but this consciousness pales into -secondary importance in the democratic mind as compared with realistic -details concerning this ball and that dinner-party where thousands -of dollars are poured out in vulgar extravagance, or concerning the -cost of the wedding-presents, the names and toilettes of the guests, -and the number of bottles of champagne opened at the marriage of some -millionaire’s daughter. - -No wonder that this aristocracy of ours plumes itself on its -importance, and takes itself seriously when it finds its slightest -doings telegraphed from the Atlantic to the Pacific. It feels itself -called to new efforts, for it understands with native shrewdness that -the American people requires novelty and fresh entertainment, or it -looks elsewhere. Accordingly it is beginning to be unfaithful to its -marriage vows. Until within a recent period the husbands and wives -of this vapid society have, much to the bewilderment of warm-blooded -students of manners and morals, been satisfied to flirt and produce the -appearance of infidelity, and yet only pretend. Now the divorce court -and the whispered or public scandal bear frequent testimony to the fact -that it is not so fashionable or “smart” as it used to be merely to -make believe. - -Was there ever a foreign court, when foreign courts were in their -glory, where men and women were content merely to whisper and giggle -behind a rubber-tree in order to appear vicious? It may be said at -least that some of our fashionables have learned to be men and women -instead of mere simpering marionettes. Still there was originality in -being simpering marionettes: Marital infidelity has been the favorite -excitement of every rotten aristocracy which the world has ever seen. - - - - -The _Conduct of Life_. - -II. - - -A manner of life of this description can scarcely be the ideal of -the American people. Certainly neither George Washington, when he -delivered his farewell address, nor Abraham Lincoln, on the occasion -of his second inaugural, looked forward to the evolution of any such -aristocracy as the fulfilment of the nation’s hopes. And yet this -coterie of people has its representatives in all the large cities of -the country, and there is no reason to doubt that in a short time the -example set will be imitated to some extent, at least, and that one -portion of the country will vie with another in extravagant social -vanities and prodigal display on the part of a pleasure-seeking leisure -class. - -Most of these people go to church, and, indeed, some of them are -ostensibly regardful of church functions and ceremonies, and, as they -do not openly violate any laws so as to subject themselves to terms of -imprisonment, the patriotic American citizen finds himself able merely -to frown by way of showing his dissatisfaction at this form of high -treason against the morals and aims of democracy. To frown and to be -grateful that one is not like certain pleasure-seeking millionaires -is not much of a comfort, especially when it is obvious that the -ignorant and semi-ignorant mass is fascinated by the extravagances and -worldly manifestations of the individuals in question, and has made -them its heroes on account of their unadulterated millions. Indeed, -the self-respecting, patriotic American citizen finds himself to-day -veritably between Scylla and Charybdis in the matter of the conduct -of life. We are no longer the almost homogeneous nation we were fifty -years ago. There are far greater extremes of wealth and poverty. Our -economic conditions, or at least the conditions which exist in our -principal cities, are closely approximating those which exist in the -cities of the Old World. Outside of our cities the people for the most -part live in respectable comfort by the practice of what passes in -America for economy, which may be defined as a high but ignorant moral -purpose negatived by waste and domestic incompetence. It has always -been true of our beloved country that, though the ship of state has -seemed on the point of floundering from time to time, disaster has -invariably been averted at critical junctures by the saving grace of -the common-sense and right-mindedness of the American people. This is -not so complimentary as it sounds. It really means that the average -sense and intelligence of the public is apt to be in the wrong at the -outset, and to be converted to the right only after many days and much -tribulation. In other words, our safety and our progress have been the -result of a slow and often reluctant yielding of opinion by the mass -to the superior judgment of a minority. This is merely another way of -stating that, where every one has a right to individual opinion, and -there are no arbitrary standards of conduct or of anything else outside -the statute law, the mean is likely to fall far short of what is -best. Our salvation in every instance of national perplexity has been -the effectual working on the public conscience of the leaven of the -best Americanism. A comparatively small proportion of the population -have been the pioneers in thought and suggestion of subsequent ardent -espousals by the entire public. This leaven, in the days when we were -more homogeneous, was made up from all the elements of society; or, in -other words, the best Americanism drew its representatives from every -condition of life; the farmer of the Western prairie was just as likely -to tower above his fellows and become a torch-bearer as the merchant or -mechanic of the city. - -If we as a nation have needed a leaven in the past, we certainly have -no less need of one to-day, now that we are in the flush of material -prosperity and consciousness of power. Fortunately we have one. The -public-spirited, nobly independent, earnest, conscientious, ambitious -American exists to-day as indisputably and unmistakably as ever, and -he is a finer specimen of humanity than he used to be, for he knows -more and he poses much less. It is safe to assert, too, that he is -still to be found in every walk of our national life. The existence -of an aggravating and frivolous aristocracy on the surface, and an -ignorant, unæsthetic mass underneath should not blind us to the fact -that there is a sound core to our social system. The hope of the United -States to-day lies in that large minority of the people who are really -trying to solve the problems of life from more than a merely selfish -standpoint. One has merely to think a moment in order to realize -what a really numerous and significant body among us is endeavoring -to promote the cause of American civilization by aspiring or decent -behavior. Our clergymen, our lawyers, our doctors, our architects, -our merchants, our teachers, some of our editors, our bankers, our -scientists, our scholars, and our philanthropists, at once stand out as -a generally sane and earnest force of citizens. The great educational, -charitable, artistic, and other undertakings which have been begun and -splendidly completed by individual energy and liberality since the -death of Abraham Lincoln, bespeak eloquently the temper of a certain -portion of the community. If it be true that the so-called aristocracy -of New York City threatens the repute and sincerity of democracy -by its heartlessness and unworthy attempts to ape the vices of a -fifteenth-century European nobility, New York can fairly retort that -it offers in its working force of well-to-do people the most vital, -interesting, sympathetic, and effective force of men and women in the -nation. If the Paris of America contains the most dangerous element -of society, it also contains an element which is equal to the best -elsewhere, and is more attractive than any. The New York man or woman -who is in earnest is sure to accomplish something, for he or she is -not likely to be handicapped by ignorant provincialism of ethics or art -which plays havoc with many of the good intentions of the rest of the -country. - -This versatile and interesting leaven of American society finds its -counterpart, to a greater or less extent, in every section of the -United States, but it is nowhere quite so attractive as in the Paris -of America, for the reason that nowhere does the pulse of life move so -keenly as there, and nowhere is the science of living absorbingly so -well understood. The art of living has there reached a more interesting -phase than in any part of America, if zest in life and the facilities -to make the most of it are regarded as the test. - -This may sound worldly. The people of the United States used to -consider it worldly to admire pictures or to listen to beautiful music. -Some think so still. Many a citizen of what was lately the prairie -sits down to his dinner in his shirt-sleeves to-day and pretends to -be thankful that he is neither an aristocrat nor a gold-bug. The next -week, perhaps, this same citizen will vote against a national bankrupt -law because he does not wish to pay his debts, or vote for a bill -which will enable him to pay them in depreciated currency. Many a -clergyman who knows better gives his flock consolingly to understand -that to be absorbed in the best human interests of life is unworthy -of the Christian, and that to be ordinary and unattractive is a -legitimate condition of mind and body. Surely the best Americanism is -the Americanism of the man or woman who makes the most of what this -life affords, and throws himself or herself keenly into the thick of -it. The art of living is the science of living nobly and well, and -how can one live either nobly or well by regarding life on the earth -as a mere log-cabin existence? If we in this country who seek to live -wisely are in danger from the extravagant vanities of the very rich, -we are scarcely less menaced by that narrow spirit of ethical teaching -which tries to inculcate that it does not much matter what our material -surroundings are, and that any progress made by society, except in the -direction of sheer morality, is a delusion and a snare. - -Character is the basis and the indispensable requisite of the finest -humanity; without it refinement, appreciation, manners, fancy, and -power of expression are like so many boughs on a tree which is dead. -But, on the other hand, what is more uninspiring than an unadorned -soul? That kind of virtue and morality which finds no interest in the -affairs of this life is but a fresh contribution to the sum of human -incompetence, and but serves to retard the progress of civilization. -The true and the chief reason why there is less misery in the world -than formerly is that men understand better how to live. That -straight-laced type of American, who is content to be moral in his own -narrow way, and to exclude from his scheme of life all those interests -which serve to refine and to inspire, bears the same relation to the -ideal man or woman that a chromo bears to a masterpiece of painting. - -We have no standards in this country. The individual is free to express -himself here within the law in any way he sees fit, and the conduct -of life comes always at last to an equation of the individual. Each -one of us when we awake in the morning finds the problem of existence -staring him anew in the face, and cannot always spare the time to -remember that he is an American. And yet Americanism is the sum total -of what all of us are. It will be very easy for us simply to imitate -the civilizations of the past, but if our civilization is to stand for -anything vital, and to be a step forward in the progress of humanity, -we must do more than use the old combinations and devices of society in -a new kaleidoscopic form. Our heritage as Americans is independence, -originality, self-reliance, and sympathetic energy animated by a strong -ethical instinct, and these are forces which can produce a higher and -a broader civilization than the world has yet seen if we choose to -have it so. But it is no longer a matter of cutting down forests and -opening mines, of boasting beside the plough and building cities in -a single year, of fabulous fortunes won in a trice, and of favorite -sons in black broadcloth all the year round. It is a matter of a vast, -populous country and a powerful, seething civilization where the same -problems confront us which have taxed the minds and souls of the Old -World for generations of men. It is for our originality to throw new -light upon them, and it is for our independence to face them in the -spirit of a deeper sympathy with humanity, and free from the canker of -that utter selfishness which has made the prosperity and glory of other -great nations culminate so often in a decadence of degrading luxury and -fruitless culture. - -No civilization which regards the blessings and comforts of refined -living as unworthy to be striven for and appropriated can hope to -promote the cause of humanity. On the other hand, we Americans must -remember that purely selfish appropriation and appreciation of -these blessings and comforts has worked the ruin of the most famous -civilizations of the past. Marie Antoinette was more elegant than the -most fashionable woman in New York, and yet that did not save her -from the tumbrel and the axe. The best Americanism of to-day and for -the future is that which shall seek to use the fruits of the earth -and the fulness thereof, and to develop all the manifestations of art -and gentle living in the interest of humanity as a whole. But even -heartless elegance is preferable to that self-righteous commonness -of spirit which sits at home in its shirt-sleeves and is graceless, -ascetic, and unimaginative in the name of God. - - _THE END_ - - [Illustration] - - _D. B. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Art of Living - -Author: Robert Grant - -Release Date: September 12, 2016 [EBook #53040] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF LIVING *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> - -<h1>The Art of Living</h1> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 432px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="432" height="700" alt="Image of the front cover" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage larger red">The Art of<br /> -Living</p> - -<p class="titlepage">BY<br /> -<span class="larger red"><i>Robert Grant</i></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage">New York<br /> -<span class="red"><i>Charles Scribner’s Sons</i></span><br /> -MDCCCXCIX</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller"><i>Copyright, 1895 and 1899, by Charles Scribner’s Sons</i></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>Contents</i></h2> - -</div> - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br /><i>Income</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br />The <i>Dwelling</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br /><i>House-Furnishing</i> and the <i>Commissariat</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br /><i>Education</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br /><i>Occupation</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br />The <i>Use of Time</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br />The <i>Summer Problem</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br />The <i>Case of Man</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br />The <i>Case of Woman</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="tdc">¶<br />The <i>Conduct of Life</i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part I</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Part II</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>Income.</i></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-r.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Rogers, the book-keeper for the -past twenty-two years of my -friend Patterson, the banker, told -me the other day that he had -reared a family of two boys and -three girls on his annual salary of two thousand -two hundred dollars; that he had put one of the -boys through college, one through the School of -Mines, brought up one of the girls to be a librarian, -given one a coming-out party and a trousseau, -and that the remaining daughter, a home -body, was likely to be the domestic sunshine of -his own and his wife’s old age. All this on two -thousand two hundred dollars a year.</p> - -<p>Rogers told me with perfect modesty, with just -a tremor of self-satisfaction in his tone, as though, -all things considered, he felt that he had managed -creditably, yet not in the least suggesting -that he regarded his performance as out of the -common run of happy household annals. He is -a neat-looking, respectable, quiet, conservative -little man, rising fifty, who, while in the bank, -invariably wears a nankeen jacket all the year<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -round, a narrow black necktie in winter, and a -narrow yellow and red pongee wash tie in summer, -and whose watch is no less invariably right -to a second. As I often drop in to see Patterson, -his employer, I depend upon it to keep mine -straight, and it was while I was setting my chronometer -the other day that he made me the foregoing -confidence.</p> - -<p>Frankly, I felt as though I had been struck -with a club. It happened to be the first of the -month. Every visit of the postman had brought -me a fresh batch of bills, each one of which was -a little larger than I had expected. I was correspondingly -depressed and remorseful, and had -been asking myself from time to time during -the day why it need cost so much to live. Yet -here was a man who was able to give his daughter -a coming-out party and a trousseau on two -thousand two hundred dollars a year. I opened -my mouth twice to ask him how in the name of -thrift he had managed to do it, but somehow the -discrepancy between his expenditures and mine -seemed such a gulf that I was tongue-tied. “I -suppose,” he added modestly, “that I have been -very fortunate in my little family. It must indeed -be sharper than a serpent’s tooth to have a thankless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -child.” Gratitude too! Gratitude and Shakespeare -on two thousand two hundred dollars a -year. I went my way without a word.</p> - -<p>There are various ways of treating remorse. -Some take a Turkish bath or a pill. Others, while -the day lasts, trample it under foot, and shut it -out at night with the bed-clothes. Neither course -has ever seemed to me exactly satisfactory or -manly. Consequently I am apt to entertain my -self-reproach and reason with it, and when one -begins to wonder why it costs so much to live, -he finds himself grappling with the entire problem -of civilization, and presently his hydra has -a hundred heads. The first of the month is apt -to be a sorry day for my wife as well as for me, -and I hastened on my return home to tell her, -with just a shadow of reproach in my tone, what -Mr. Rogers had confided to me. Indeed I saw -fit to ask, “Why can’t we do the same?”</p> - -<p>“We could,” said Barbara.</p> - -<p>“Then why don’t we?”</p> - -<p>“Because you wouldn’t.”</p> - -<p>I had been reflecting in the brief interval between -my wife’s first and second replies that, in -the happy event of our imitating Rogers’s example -from this time forth and forever more, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -should be able to lay up over five thousand dollars -a year, and that five thousand dollars a year -saved for ten years would be fifty thousand dollars—a -very neat little financial nest egg. But -Barbara’s second reply upset my calculation utterly, -and threw the responsibility of failure on -me into the bargain.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Rogers is the salt of the earth, a highly -respectable man and, if I am not mistaken, the -deacon of a church,” I remarked not altogether -relevantly. “Why should we spend four times -as many thousand dollars a year as he?”</p> - -<p>“I wonder,” answered my wife, “if you really -do appreciate how your friend Mr. Rogers lives. -I am quite aware that you are talking now for -effect—talking through your hat as the children -say—because it’s the first of the month and -you’re annoyed that the bills are worse than -ever, and I understand that you don’t for one -moment seriously entertain the hope that our -establishment can be conducted on the same -basis as his. But I should just like to explain to -you for once how people who have only twenty-two -hundred dollars a year and are the salt of -the earth do live, if only to convince you that -the sooner we stop comparing ourselves with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -them the better. I say ‘we’ because in my moments -of depression over the household expenses -I catch myself doing the same thing. Our -butcher’s bill for this month is huge, and when -you came in I was in the throes of despair over -a letter in the newspaper from a woman who contends -that a good housekeeper in modest circumstances -can provide an excellent dinner for her -family of six persons, including soup, fish, an -entrée, meat, pudding, dessert, and coffee, for -fifty-three cents. And she gives the dinner, which -at first sight takes one’s breath away. But after -you prune it of celery, parsley, salted peanuts, -raisins, red cabbage, salad, and cheese, all there is -left is bean-soup, cod sounds, fried liver, hot gingerbread, -and apples.”</p> - -<p>“I should dine down town, if you set such -repasts before me,” I answered.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Barbara. “And there is a very -good point of departure for illustrating the domestic -economies of the Rogers family. Mr. Rogers -does dine down town. Not to avoid the fried -liver and cod sounds, for probably he is partial to -them, but because it is cheaper. When you take -what you call your luncheon, and which is apt to -include as much as he eats in the entire course of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -the day, Mr. Rogers dines; dines at a restaurant -where he can get a modest meal for from fifteen -to twenty-five cents. Sometimes it is pea-soup -and a piece of squash-pie. The next day perhaps -a mutton-stew and a slice of watermelon, or boiled -beef and an éclair. Mrs. Rogers and the children -have a pick-up dinner at home, which lasts them -very well until night, when they and Rogers sit -down to browned-hash mutton and a head of -lettuce, or honey-comb tripe and corn-cake, and -apple-sauce to wind up with.”</p> - -<p>“That isn’t so very bad.”</p> - -<p>“Why, they have a splendid time. They can -abuse their social acquaintance and discuss family -secrets without fear of being overheard by the -servants because they don’t keep any servants to -speak of. Probably they keep one girl. Or perhaps -Mr. Rogers had a spinster sister who helped -with the work for her board. Or it may be Mrs. -Rogers kept one while the children were little; -but after the daughters were old enough to do it -themselves, they preferred not to keep anybody. -They live extremely happily, but the children -have to double up, for in their small house it is -necessary to sleep two in a room if not a bed. -The girls make most of their dresses, and the boys<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -never dream of buying anything but ready-made -clothing. By living in the suburbs they let one -establishment serve for all seasons, unless it be -for the two weeks when Rogers gets his vacation. -Then, if nobody has been ill during the year, the -family purse may stand the drain of a stay at the -humblest watering-place in their vicinity, or a -visit to the farm-house of some relative in the -country. An engagement with the dentist is a -serious disaster, and the plumber is kept at a respectable -distance. The children go to the public -schools, and the only club or organization to -which Mr. Rogers belongs is a benefit association, -which pays him so much a week if he is ill, -and would present his family with a few hundred -dollars if he were to die. The son who went -through college must have got a scholarship or -taken pupils. The girl who married undoubtedly -made the greater portion of her trousseau with -her own needle; and as to the coming-out party, -some of the effects of splendor and all the delights -of social intercourse can be produced by -laying a white drugget on the parlor carpet, the -judicious use of half a dozen lemons and a mould -of ice-cream with angel-cake, and by imposing on -the good nature of a friend who can play the piano<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -for dancing. There, my dear, if you are willing -to live like that, we should be able to get -along on from twenty-two to twenty-five hundred -dollars quite nicely.”</p> - -<p>My wife was perfectly correct in her declaration -that I did not seriously entertain the hope of -being able to imitate Mr. Rogers, worthy citizen -and upright man as I believe him to be. I certainly -was in some measure talking through my -hat. This was not the first time I had brought -home a Rogers to confront her. She is used to -them and aware that they are chiefly bogies. I, as -she knows, and indeed both of us, are never in -quite a normal condition on the first day of the -month, and are liable, sometimes the one of us -and sometimes the other, to indulge in vagaries -and resolutions which by the tenth, when the -bills are paid, seem almost uncalled for or impracticable. -One thing is certain, that if a man -earns only twenty-two hundred dollars a year, -and is an honest man withal, he has to live on it, -even though he dines when others take luncheon, -and is forced to avoid the dentist and the plumber. -But a much more serious problem confronts -the man who earns four times as much as Rogers, -more serious because it involves an alternative.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -Rogers could not very well live on less if he -tried, without feeling the stress of poverty. He -has lived at hard pan, so to speak. But I could. -Could if I would, as my wife has demonstrated. -I am perfectly right, as she would agree, in being -unwilling to try the experiment; and yet the consciousness -that we spend a very large sum of -money every year, as compared with Rogers and -others like him, remains with us even after the -bills are paid and we have exchanged remorse -for contemplation.</p> - -<p>The moralist, who properly is always with us, -would here insinuate, perhaps, that Rogers is happier -than I. But I take issue with him promptly -and deny the impeachment. Rogers may be happier -than his employer Patterson, because Patterson, -though the possessor of a steam-yacht, has -a son who has just been through the Keeley cure -and a daughter who is living apart from her husband. -But there are no such flies in my pot of -ointment. I deny the superior happiness of Rogers -in entire consciousness of the moral beauty of his -home. I recognize him to be an industrious, self-sacrificing, -kind-hearted, sagacious husband and -father, and I admit that the pen-picture which -the moralist could draw of him sitting by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -evening lamp in his well-worn dressing gown, -with his well-darned feet adorned by carpet-slippers -of filial manufacture supported by the table -or a chair, would be justly entitled to kindle emotions -of respect and admiration. But why, after -all, should Rogers, ensconced in the family sitting-room -with the cat on the hearth, a canary -twittering in a cage and scattering seed in one -corner, a sewing-machine in the other, and surrounded -by all the comforts of home, consisting -prominently of a peach-blow vase, a Japanese -sun umbrella and engravings of George Washington -and Horace Greeley, be regarded as happier -than I in my modern drawing-room in evening -dress? What is there moral in the simplicity -of his frayed and somewhat ugly establishment -except the spirit of contentment and the gentle -feelings which sanctify it? Assuming that these -are not lacking in my home, and I believe they -are not, I see no reason for accepting the conclusion -of the moralist. There is a beauty of living -which the man with a small income is not apt -to compass under present social conditions, the -Declaration of Independence to the contrary notwithstanding. -The doctrine so widely and vehemently -promulgated in America that a Spartan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -inelegance of life is the duty of a leading citizen, -seems to be dying from inanition; and the descendants -of favorite sons who once triumphed -by preaching and practising it are now outvying -those whom they were taught to stigmatize as -the effete civilizations of Europe, in their devotion -to creature comforts.</p> - -<p>It seems to me true that in our day and generation -the desire to live wisely here has eclipsed -the desire to live safely hereafter. Moreover, to -enjoy the earth and the fulness thereof, if it be -legitimately within one’s reach, has come to be -recognized all the world over, with a special point -of view for each nationality, as a cardinal principle -of living wisely. We have been the last to recognize -it here for the reason that a contrary theory -of life was for several generations regarded as one -of the bulwarks of our Constitution. Never was -the sympathy for the poor man greater than it -is at present. Never was there warmer interest -in his condition. The social atmosphere is rife -with theories and schemes for his emancipation, -and the best brains of civilization are at work in -his behalf. But no one wishes to be like him. -Canting churchmen still gain some credence by -the assertion that indigence here will prove a saving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -grace in the world to come; but the American -people, quick, when it recognizes that it has been -fooled, to discard even a once sacred conviction, -smiles to-day at the assumption that the owner -of a log cabin is more inherently virtuous than -the owner of a steam-yacht. Indeed the present -signal vice of democracy seems to be the fury to -grow rich, in the mad struggle to accomplish -which character and happiness are too often sacrificed. -But it may be safely said that, granting -an equal amount of virtue to Rogers and to me, -and that each pays his bills promptly, I am a -more enviable individual in the public eye.</p> - -<p>In fact the pressing problem which confronts -the civilized world to-day is the choice of what -to have, for so many things have become necessaries -of existence which were either done without -or undiscovered in the days of our grandmothers, -that only the really opulent can have -everything. We sometimes hear it said that this -or that person has too much for his own good. -The saying is familiar, and doubtless it is true -that luxury unappreciated and abused will cause -degeneration; but the complaint seems to me to -be a Sunday-school consoler for those who have -too little rather than a sound argument against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -great possessions. Granting that this or that person -referred to had the moral fibre of Rogers or -of me, and were altogether an unexceptionable -character, how could he have too much for his -own good? Is the best any too good for any one -of us?</p> - -<p>The sad part of it is, however, that even those -of us who have four times, or thereabouts, the -income of Rogers, are obliged to pick and choose -and cannot have everything. Then is the opportunity -for wisdom to step in and make her abode -with us, if she only will. The perplexity, the distress, -and too often the downfall of those who -would fain live wisely, are largely the direct results -of foolish or unintelligent selection on their -part. And conversely, is not the secret of happy -modern living, the art of knowing what to have -when one cannot have everything there is?</p> - -<p>I coupled just now, in allusion to Rogers and -myself, virtue and punctuality in the payment of -bills, as though they were not altogether homogeneous. -I did so designedly, not because I question -that prompt payment is in the abstract a -leading virtue, nor because I doubt that it has -been absolutely imperative for Rogers, and one -of the secrets of his happiness; but because I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -am not entirely sure whether, after ten years of -prompt payment on the first of every month on -my part, I have not been made the sorry victim -of my own righteousness, self-righteousness I -might say, for I have plumed myself on it when -comparing myself with the ungodly. Although -virtuous action looks for no reward, the man who -pays his bills as soon as they are presented has -the right to expect that he will not be obliged to -pay anything extra for his honesty. He may not -hope for a discount, but he does hope and believe—at -least for a time—that beefsteak paid -for within thirty days of purchase will not be -taxed with the delinquencies of those who pay -tardily or not at all. Slowly but sadly I and my -wife have come to the conclusion that the butchers, -bakers, and candlestick-makers of this great -Republic who provide for the tolerably well-to-do -make up their losses by assessing virtue. It -is a melancholy conclusion for one who has been -taught to believe that punctual payment is the -first great cardinal principle of wise living, and -it leaves one in rather a wobbly state of mind, -not as regards the rank of the virtue in question, -but as regards the desirability of strictly living -up to it in practice. I have heard stated with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -authority that the leading butchers, grocers, stable-keepers, -drygoods dealers, dress-makers, -florists, and plumbers of our great cities divide -the customers on their books into sheep and -goats, so to speak; and the more prompt and -willing a sheep, the deeper do they plunge the -knife. Let one establish a reputation for prompt -payment and make a purchase on the twenty-fifth -of the month, he will receive on the first of the -following a bill, on the twentieth, if this be not -paid, a bill for “account rendered,” on the first -of the next month a bill for “account rendered, -please remit,” and on the tenth a visit from a collector. -On the other hand I have known people -who seem to live on the fat of the land, and to -keep the tradesfolk in obsequious awe of them -by force of letting their bills run indefinitely.</p> - -<p>Abroad, as many of us know, the status of the -matter is very different. There interest is figured -in advance, and those who pay promptly -get a handsome discount on the face of their bills. -While this custom may seem to encourage debt, -it is at least a mutual arrangement, and seems to -have proved satisfactory, to judge from the fact -that the fashionable tailors and dress-makers of -London and Paris are apt to demur or shrug<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -their shoulders at immediate payment, and to be -rather embarrassingly grateful if their accounts -are settled by the end of a year. No one would -wish to change the national inclination of upright -people on this side of the water to pay on the -spot, but the master and mistress of an establishment -may well consider whether the fashionable -tradesmen ought to oblige them to bear the entire -penalty of being sheep instead of goats. With -this qualification, which is set forth rather as a -caveat than a doctrine, the prompt payment of -one’s bills seems to be strictly co-ordinate with -virtue, and may be properly described as the -corner-stone of wise modern living.</p> - -<p>There are so many things which one has to -have nowadays in order to be comfortable that -it seems almost improvident to inquire how much -one ought to save before facing the question of -what one can possibly do without. Here the people -who are said to have too much for their own -good have an advantage over the rest of us. The -future of their children is secure. If they dread -death it is not because they fear to leave their -wives and children unprovided for. Many of -them go on saving, just the same, and talk poor -if a railroad lowers a dividend, or there is not a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -ready market for their real estate at an exalted -profit. Are there more irritating men or women -in the world than the over-conservative persons -of large means who are perpetually harping on -saving, and worrying lest they may not be able -to put by for a rainy day, as they call it, twenty-five -per cent. or more of their annual income? -The capitalist, careworn by solicitude of this sort, -is the one fool in creation who is not entitled to -some morsel of pity.</p> - -<p>How much ought the rest of us to save? I -know a man—now you do not know him, and -there is no use in racking your brains to discover -who he is, which seems to be a principal motive -for reading books nowadays, as though we -writers had a cabinet photograph in our mind’s -eye whenever we took a pen in hand. I know a -man who divides his income into parts. “All -Gaul is divided into three parts,” you will remember -we read in the classics. Well, my friend, -whom we will call Julius Cæsar for convenience -and mystification, divides his income, on the -first of January, into a certain number of parts -or portions. He and his wife have a very absorbing -and earnest pow-wow over it annually. They -take the matter very seriously, and burn the midnight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -oil in the sober endeavor to map and figure -out in advance a wise and unselfish exhibit. -So much and no more for rent, so much for servants, -so much for household supplies, so much -for clothes, so much for amusements, so much for -charity, so much to meet unlooked-for contingencies, -and so much for investment. By the time -the exhibit is finished it is mathematically and -ethically irreproachable, and, what is more, Julius -Cæsar and his wife live up to it so faithfully -that they are sure to have some eight or ten dollars -to the good on the morning of December -thirty-first, which they commonly expend in a -pair of canvas-back ducks and a bottle of champagne, -for which they pay cash, in reward for -their own virtue and to enable them at the stroke -of midnight to submit to their own consciences -a trial balance accurate to a cent.</p> - -<p>Now it should be stated that Mr. and Mrs. -Julius Cæsar are not very busy people in other -respects, and that their annual income, which is -fifteen thousand dollars, and chiefly rent from -improved real estate in the hands of a trustee, -flows on as regularly and surely as a river. -Wherefore it might perhaps be argued, if one -were disposed to be sardonic, that this arithmetical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -system of life under the circumstances -savors of a fad, and that Julius and his wife take -themselves and their occupation a trifle too seriously, -especially as they have both been known -to inform, solemnly and augustly, more than -one acquaintance who was struggling for a living, -that it is every one’s duty to lay up at least -one-tenth of his income and give at least another -tenth in charity. And yet, when one has ceased -to smile at the antics of this pair, the consciousness -remains that they are right in their practice -of foresight and arithmetical apportioning, and -that one who would live wisely should, if possible, -decide in advance how much he intends to -give to the poor or put into the bank. Otherwise -he is morally, or rather immorally, certain -to spend everything, and to suffer disagreeable -qualms instead of enjoying canvas-back ducks -and a bottle of champagne on December thirty-first.</p> - -<p>As to what that much or little to be given -and to be saved shall be, there is more room for -discussion. Julius Cæsar and his wife have declared -in favor of a tenth for each, which in -their case means fifteen hundred dollars given, -and fifteen hundred dollars saved, which leaves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -them a net income of twelve thousand dollars -to spend, and they have no children. I am inclined -to think that if every man with ten thousand -dollars a year and a family were to give -away three hundred dollars, and prudently invest -seven hundred dollars, charity would not -suffer so long as at present, and would be no -less kind. Unquestionably those of us who come -out on December thirty-first just even, or eight -or nine dollars behind instead of ahead, and -would have been able to spend a thousand or -two more, are the ones who find charity and saving -so difficult. Our friends who are said to have -too much for their own good help to found a -hospital or send a deserving youth through -college without winking. It costs them merely -the trouble of signing a check. But it behooves -those who have only four instead of forty times -as much as Rogers, if they wish to do their share -in relieving the needs of others, to do so promptly -and systematically before the fine edge of the -good resolutions formed on the first of January -is dulled by the pressure of a steadily depleted -bank account, and a steadily increasing array of -bills. Charity, indeed, is more difficult for us to -practise than saving, for the simplest method of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -saving, life insurance, is enforced by the “stand -and deliver” argument of an annual premium. -Only he, who before the first crocus thrusts its -gentle head above the winter’s snow has sent his -check to the needy, and who can conscientiously -hang upon his office door “Fully insured; life -insurance agents need not apply,” is in a position -to face with a calm mind the fall of the leaf -and the December days when conscience, quickened -by the dying year, inquires what we have -done for our neighbor, and how the wife and the -little ones would fare if we should be cut down -in the strength of our manhood.</p> - -<p>And yet, too, important as saving is, there -are so many things which we must have for the -sake of this same wife and the little ones that -we cannot afford to save too much. Are we to -toil and moil all our days, go without fresh butter -and never take six weeks in Europe or Japan -because we wish to make sure that our sons and -daughters will be amply provided for, as the -obituary notices put it? Some men with daughters -only have a craze of saving so that this one -earthly life becomes a rasping, worrying ordeal, -which is only too apt to find an end in the -coolness of a premature grave. My friend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -Perkins—here is another chance, identity seekers, -to wonder who Perkins really is—the father of -four girls, is a thin, nervous lawyer, who ought -to take a proper vacation every summer; but -he rarely does, and the reason seems to be that -he is saddled by the idea that to bring a girl up -in luxury and leave her with anything less than -five thousand dollars a year is a piece of paternal -brutality. It seems to me that a father ought -in the first place to remember that some girls -marry. I reminded Perkins of this one day. -“Some don’t,” he answered mournfully. “Marriage -does not run in the female Perkins line. The -chances are that two of my four will never marry. -They might be able to get along, if they lived together -and were careful, on seven thousand dollars -a year, and I must leave them that somehow.” -“Hoot toot,” said I, “that seems to me -nonsense. Don’t let the spectre of decayed gentlewomen -hound you into dyspepsia or Bright’s -disease, but give yourself a chance and trust to -your girls to look out for themselves. There are -so many things for women to do now besides -marry or pot jam, that a fond father ought to let -his nervous system recuperate now and then.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you mean that they might become<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -teachers or physicians or hospital nurses or typewriters,” -said Perkins. “Declined with thanks.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think,” I inquired with a little -irritation, “that they would be happier so than -in doing nothing on a fixed income, in simply -being mildly cultivated and philanthropic on -dividends, in moving to the sea-side in summer -and back again in the autumn, and in dying at -the last of some fashionable ailment?”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t,” said Perkins. “Do you?”</p> - -<p>Were I to repeat my answer to this inquiry I -should be inviting a discussion on woman, which -is not in place at this stage of our reflections. -Let me say, though, that I am still of the opinion -that Perkins ought to give his nervous system -a chance and not worry so much about his -daughters.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>Income.</i></h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-s-1.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Seeing that there are so many -things to have and that we cannot -have everything, what are we to -choose? I have sometimes, while -trudging along in the sleighing season, noticed -that many men, whose income I believe to be -much smaller than mine, were able to ride behind -fast trotters in fur overcoats. The reason -upon reflection was obvious to me. Men of a -certain class regard a diamond pin, a fur overcoat, -and a fast horse as the first necessaries of -existence after a bed, a hair-brush and one maid-of-all-work. -In other words, they are willing to -live in an inexpensive locality, with no regard -to plumbing, society, or art, to have their food -dropped upon the table, and to let their wives -and daughters live with shopping as the one -bright spot in the month’s horizon, if only they, -the husbands and fathers, can satisfy the three-headed -ruling ambition in question. The men -to whom I am referring have not the moral or -æsthetic tone of Rogers and myself, and belong -to quite a distinct class of society from either of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -us. But among the friends of both of us there -are people who act on precisely the same principle. -A fine sense of selection ought to govern -the expenditure of income, and the wise man -will refrain from buying a steam-yacht for himself -or a diamond crescent for his wife before he -has secured a home with modern conveniences, -an efficient staff of servants, a carefully chosen -family physician, a summer home, or an ample -margin wherewith to hire one, the best educational -advantages for his children which the community -will afford, and choice social surroundings. -In order to have these comfortably and -completely, and still not to be within sailing distance, -so to speak, of a steam-yacht, one needs -to have nowadays—certainly in large cities—an -income of from seven thousand to eleven -thousand dollars, according to where one lives.</p> - -<p>I make this assertion in the face of the fact that -our legislators all over the country annually -decree that from four to five thousand dollars a -year is a fat salary in reward for public service, -and that an official with a family who is given -twenty-five hundred or three thousand is to be -envied. Envied by whom, pray? By the ploughman, -the horse-car conductor, and the corner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -grocery man, may be, but not by the average -business or professional man who is doing well. -To be sure, five thousand dollars in a country -town <em>is</em> affluence, if the beneficiary is content to -stay there; but in a city the family man with -only that income, provided he is ambitious, can -only just live, and might fairly be described as -the cousin german to a mendicant. And yet there -are some worthy citizens still, who doubtless -would be aghast at these statements, and would -wish to know how one is to spend five thousand -dollars a year without extravagance. We certainly -did start in this country on a very different basis, -and the doctrine of plain living was written -between the lines of the Constitution. We were -practically to do our own work, to be content -with pie and doughnuts as the staple articles of -nutrition, to abide in one locality all the year -round, and to eschew color, ornament, and refined -recreation. All this as an improvement over the -civilization of Europe and a rebuke to it. Whatever -the ethical value of this theory of existence -in moulding the national character may have -been, it has lost its hold to-day, and we as a -nation have fallen into line with the once sneered-at -older civilizations, though we honestly believe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -that we are giving and going to give a peculiar -redeeming brand to the adopted, venerable customs -which will purge them of dross and bale.</p> - -<p>Take the servant question, for instance. We -are perpetually discussing how we are to do away -with the social reproach which keeps native -American women out of domestic service; yet -at the same time in actual practice the demand -for servants grows more and more urgent and -wide-spread, and they are consigned still more -hopelessly, though kindly, to the kitchen and -servants’ hall in imitation of English upper-class -life. In the days when our Emerson sought to -practise the social equality for which he yearned, -by requiring his maids to sit at his own dinner-table, -a domestic establishment was a modest affair -of a cook and a second girl. Now, the people -who are said to have too much for their own -good, keep butlers, ladies’ maids, governesses, -who like Mahomet’s coffin hover between the -parlor and the kitchen, superfine laundresses, -pages in buttons, and other housekeeping accessories, -and domestic life grows bravely more -and more complex. To be sure, too, I am quite -aware that, as society is at present constituted, -only a comparatively small number out of our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -millions of free-born American citizens have or -are able to earn the seven to eleven thousand dollars -a year requisite for thorough comfort, and -that the most interesting and serious problem -which confronts human society to-day is the annihilation -or lessening of the terrible existing inequalities -in estate and welfare.</p> - -<p>This problem, absorbing as it is, can scarcely -be solved in our time. But, whatever the solution, -whether by socialism, government control, -or brotherly love, is it not safe to assume that -when every one shares alike, society is not going -to be satisfied with humble, paltry, or ugly conditions -as the universal weal? If the new dispensation -does not provide a style and manner of -living at least equal in comfort, luxury, and refinement -to that which exists among the well-to-do -to-day, it will be a failure. Humanity will -never consent to be shut off from the best in -order to be exempt from the worst. The millennium -must supply not merely bread and butter, a -house, a pig, a cow, and a sewing-machine for -every one, but attractive homes, gardens, and -galleries, literature and music, and all the range -of æsthetic social adjuncts which tend to promote -healthy bodies, delightful manners, fine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -sensibilities, and noble purposes, or it will be no -millennium.</p> - -<p>Therefore one who would live wisely and has -the present means, though he may deplore existing -misery and seek to relieve it, does not give -away to others all his substance but spends it -chiefly on himself and his family until he has satisfied -certain needs. By way of a house he feels -that he requires not merely a frail, unornamental -shelter, but a carefully constructed, well ventilated, -cosily and artistically furnished dwelling, -where his family will neither be scrimped for -space nor exposed to discomforts, and where he -can entertain his friends tastefully if not with elegance. -All this costs money and involves large -and recurrent outlays for heating, lighting, upholstery, -sanitary appliances, silver, china, and -glass. It is not sufficient for him that his children -should be sure of their own father; he is -solicitous, besides, that they should grow up as -free as possible from physical blemishes, and -mentally and spiritually sound and attractive. -To promote this he must needs consult or engage -from time to time skilled specialists, dentists, -oculists, dancing and drawing masters, private -tutors, and music-teachers. To enable these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -same sons and daughters to make the most of -themselves, he must, during their early manhood -and womanhood, enable them to pursue -professional or other studies, to travel, and to -mingle in cultivated and well-bred society. He -must live in a choice neighborhood that he may -surround himself and his family with refining -influences, and accordingly he must pay from -twelve hundred to twenty-five hundred or three -thousand dollars a year for rent, according to the -size and desirability of the premises. Unless he -would have his wife and daughters merely household -factors and drudges, he must keep from -three to five or six servants, whose wages vary -from four to six or seven dollars a week, and -feed them.</p> - -<p>Nor can the athletic, æsthetic, or merely pleasurable -needs of a growing or adolescent household -be ignored. He must meet the steady and -relentless drain from each of these sources, or be -conscious that his flesh and blood have not the -same advantages and opportunities which are enjoyed -by their contemporaries. He must own a -pew, a library share, a fancy dress costume, and -a cemetery lot, and he must always have loose -change on hand for the hotel waiter and the colored<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -railway porter. The family man in a large -city who meets these several demands to his -entire satisfaction will have little of ten thousand -dollars left for the purchase of a trotter, a fur -overcoat, and a diamond pin.</p> - -<p>The growing consciousness of the value of -these complex demands of our modern civilization, -when intelligently gratified, acts at the present -day as a cogent incentive to make money, not -for the mere sake of accumulation, but to spend. -Gross accumulation with scant expenditure has -always been sanctioned here; but to grow rich -and yet be lavish has only within a comparatively -recent period among us seemed reconcilable -with religious or national principles. Even -yet he who many times a millionaire still walks -unkempt, or merely plain and honest, has not entirely -lost the halo of hero worship. But, though -the old man is permitted to do as he prefers, better -things are demanded of his sons and daughters. -Nor can the argument that some of the -greatest men in our history have been nurtured -and brought up in cabins and away from refining -influences be soundly used against the advisability -of making the most of income, even -though we now and then ask ourselves whether<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -modern living is producing statesmen of equally -firm mould. But we thrill no longer at mention -of a log cabin or rail splitting, and the very name -of hard cider suggests rather unpleasantly the -corner grocery store and the pie-permeated, hair-cloth -suited New England parlor.</p> - -<p>Merely because other nations have long been -aware that it was wise and not immoral to try -to live comfortably and beautifully our change -of faith is no less absorbing to us. We confidently -expect to win fresh laurels by our originality, -intelligence, and unselfishness in this new -old field. Already have we made such strides -that our establishments on this side of the water -make up in genuine comfort what they lack in -ancient manorial picturesqueness and ghost-haunted -grace. Each one of us who is in earnest -is asking how he is to make the most of what he -has or earns, so as to attain that charm of refined -living which is civilization’s best flower—living -which if merely material and unanimated by intelligence -and noble aims is without charm, but -which is made vastly more difficult of realization -in case we are without means or refuse to spend -them adequately.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Dwelling</i>.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-m.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Mr. and Mrs. Julius Cæsar, who, -as you may remember, divide -their income into parts with -mathematical precision, were not -as well off in this world’s goods -at the time of their marriage as they are now. -Neither Mr. Cæsar’s father nor Mrs. Cæsar’s -grandmother was then dead, and consequently -the newly wedded pair, though set up by their -respective families with a comfortable income, -felt that it was incumbent upon them to practise -strict economy. Then it was that Julius conceived -what seemed to them both the happy -idea of buying a house dirt cheap in a neighborhood -which was not yet improved, and improving -the neighborhood, instead of paying an -exorbitant price for a residence in a street which -was already all it should be.</p> - -<p>“Why,” said Julius, “shouldn’t we buy one of -those new houses in Sunset Terrace? They look -very attractive, and if we can only induce two or -three congenial couples to join forces with us we -shall have the nucleus of a delightful colony.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Besides, everything will be nice and new,” -said Mrs. Julius, or Dolly Cæsar, as her friends -know her. “No cockroaches, no mice, no moths, -no family skeletons to torment us. Julius, you are -a genius. We can just as well set the fashion as -follow meekly in fashion’s wake.”</p> - -<p>So said, so done. Julius Cæsar bent his intellect -upon the matter and soon found three congenial -couples who were willing to join forces with him. -Before another twelve months had passed, four -baby-wagons—one of them double-seated—were -to be seen on four sunny grass-plots in -front of four attractive, artistic-looking villas on -Sunset Terrace. Where lately sterility, mortar, -and weeds had held carnival, there was now an -air of tasteful gentility. Thanks to the example -of Dolly Cæsar, who had an eye and an instinct -for such matters, the four brass door-plates -shone like the sun, the paint was spick and -span, the four gravel paths were in apple-pie -order, the four grass-plots were emerald from -timely use of a revolving lawn sprinkler, and -the four nurse-maids, who watched like dragons -over the four baby-wagons, were neat-looking -and comely. No wonder that by the end of the -second year there was not a vacant house in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -the street, and that everybody who wished to -live in a fashionable locality was eager for a -chance to enter Sunset Terrace. No wonder, too, -that Mr. and Mrs. Julius Cæsar were able, by -the end of the fourth year, to emerge from Sunset -Terrace with a profit on the sale of their -villa which made it rent free for the entire period, -and left them with a neat little surplus to -boot, and to settle down with calm minds on -really fashionable Belport Avenue, in the stately -mansion devised to them by Mrs. Cæsar’s grandmother.</p> - -<p>Now, it must be borne in mind that a Mr. -and Mrs. Julius Cæsar can sometimes do that -which a Mr. and Mrs. George J. Spriggs find -difficulty in accomplishing. Spriggs, at the time -of his marriage to Miss Florence Green, the -daughter of ex-Assistant Postmaster-General -Homer W. Green, conceived the happy idea of -setting up his household gods in Locust Road, -which lies about as far from Belport Avenue in -one direction as Sunset Terrace in the other. -Both are semi-suburban. It also occurred to him -at the outset to join forces with three or four -congenial couples, but at the last moment the -engagement of one of the couples in question<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -was broken, and the other three decided to live -somewhere else. To have changed his mind then -would have involved the sacrifice of one hundred -dollars paid to bind the bargain to the landowner. -So it seemed best to them on the whole -to move in, as they had to live somewhere.</p> - -<p>“It’s just a little bit dreary, isn’t it?” said -Florence Spriggs, pathetically, as she looked out -of her bow window at the newly finished street -which was not finished, and at the grass-plot -where there was no grass. “But I sha’n’t be a -bit lonely with you, George.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder if the color of this house has been -changed,” said Spriggs, presently, as he glanced -up at the façade and from that to the other houses -in the block, each of which was vacant. He and -Florence had gone out after dinner to take a -stroll and survey the neighborhood which they -hoped to improve.</p> - -<p>“Of course it hasn’t! How could it be?” -said Florence.</p> - -<p>“Somehow it looks a more staring shade of -yellow than it did the first time we saw it. And -I don’t fancy altogether the filigree work on the -door, or that Egyptian renaissance scroll set into -the eastern wall, do you, dearest? However,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -we’re in now and can’t get out, for the title has -passed. I wonder who will buy the other -houses?”</p> - -<p>They were soon to know. They were alone -all winter, but in the early spring a family moved -in on either side of them. The houses in Locust -Road, like those in Sunset Terrace, were of the -villa order, with grass-plots, which were almost -lawns, appurtenant. Though less pleasing than -those which had taken the more discerning eye -of Mrs. Julius Cæsar, they were nevertheless -comparatively inoffensive and sufficiently tasteful. -Neighbor number one proved to be of an -enterprising and imaginative turn. He changed -the color of his villa from staring yellow to startling -crushed strawberry, supplemented his Egyptian -renaissance scroll and filigree with inlaid -jewel and frost work, stationed a cast-iron stag -in one corner of the grass-plot and a cast-iron -Diana with a bow in another, and then rested on -his laurels. Neighbor number two was shiftless -and untidy. His grass-plot did not thrive, and -the autumn leaves choked his gravel path. His -windows were never washed, his blinds hung -askew, and his one maid-of-all-work preferred -the lawn to the laundry as a drying-room. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -wife sunned herself in a wrapper, and he himself -in his shirt sleeves. A big mongrel dog drooled -perpetually on the piazza or tracked it with his -muddy feet, and even the baby-wagon wore the -appearance of dilapidation and halted because of -a broken spring.</p> - -<p>The Spriggses tried to be lenient and even -genial with both these neighbors, but somehow -the attempt was not successful. Neighbor number -one became huffy because Spriggs took no -notice of his advice that he embellish his grass-plot -with a stone mastiff or an umbrella and -cherub fountain, and neighbor number two took -offence because Spriggs complained that the ventilator -on his chimney kept Mrs. Spriggs awake -by squeaking. Mrs. Spriggs did her best to set -them both a good example by having everything -as tasteful on the one hand and as tidy on the -other as it should be. In the hope of improving -them she even dropped suggestive hints as to -how people ought to live, but the hints were not -taken. What was worse none of the other houses -were taken. As Spriggs pathetically expressed it, -the iron stag on the one side and the weekly -wash on the other kept purchasers at bay. He -tried to buoy himself up by believing that a glut<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -in the real estate market was the cause why the -remaining villas in Locust Road hung fire, but -this consolation was taken away from him the -following spring when an active buying movement -all along the line still left them without -other neighbors. The unoccupied villas had begun -to wear an air of dilapidation, in spite of -their Egyptian renaissance scrolls and the presence -of a cast-iron Diana.</p> - -<p>To crown the situation the baby of neighbor -number two caught diphtheria from being left in -its halting wagon by the maid-of-all-work too -near the cesspool on the lawn, and was kissed -by the Spriggs baby before the fact was discovered. -If there is one thing more irritating to the -maternal mind than another, it is to have dear -baby catch something from the child of people -whom you reprobate. One feels that the original -horrors of the disease are sure to be enhanced -through such a medium. When the only child -of the Julius Cæsars died of the same disease, -contracted from a germ inhaled on Belport Avenue, -the parents felt that only destiny was to -blame. On the other hand, though the Spriggs -baby recovered, Mrs. Spriggs never quite forgave -herself for what had happened. Before the next<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -autumn Spriggs parted with his estate on Locust -Road for so much less than he had paid for -it that he felt obliged to accept the hospitality -of his wife’s father, ex-Assistant Postmaster-General -Green, during the succeeding winter.</p> - -<p>The moral of this double-jointed tale is twofold; -firstly that the young householder cannot -always count upon improving the neighborhood -in which he sets up his goods and chattels after -marriage, and secondly, that, in case the neighborhood -fails to improve, a tenancy for a year -or two is a less serious burden than absolute -ownership. It is extremely pleasant, to be sure, -to be able to declare that one has paid for one’s -house, and I am aware that the consciousness -of unencumbered ownership in the roof over -one’s head affords one of the most affecting and -effective opportunities for oratory which the free-born -citizen can desire. The hand of many a husband -and father has been stayed from the wine-cup -or the gaming-table by the pathetic thought -that he owned his house. As a rule, too, it is -cheaper to pay the interest on a mortgage than -to pay rent, and if one is perfectly sure of being -able to improve the neighborhood, or at least save -it from degeneration, it certainly seems desirable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -to be the landlord of one’s house, even though it -be mortgaged so cleverly that the equity of redemption -is merely a name. But in this age of -semi-suburban development, when Roads and -Terraces and Parks and Gates and other Anglo-European -substitutes for streets serve as “springes -to catch woodcocks,” a young couple on real -estate ownership bent should have the discerning -eye of a Mrs. Julius Cæsar in order not to fall -a prey to the specious land and lot speculator. -If you happen to hit on a Sunset Terrace, everything -is rose color, but to find one’s self an -owner in fee on a Locust Road, next door to -crushed strawberry and a cast-iron stag, will palsy -the hopes of the hopeful.</p> - -<p>What attractive, roomy, tasteful affairs many -of these semi-suburban villas, which are built -nowadays on the new Roads, Terraces, Parks, -Gates, and even Streets, are to be sure. There -are plenty of homely ones too, but it is a simple -matter to avoid the Egyptian renaissance scroll, -and the inlaid jewel work and stained-glass bull’s -eyes if one only will. They seem to be affording -to many a happy solution of the ever new and -ever old problem, which presents itself to every -man who is about to take a wife, whether it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -preferable to live in the city or the country. -These new suburbs, or rather outlying wards of -our large cities, which have been carved out of -what, not many years ago, was real country where -cows browsed and woods flourished, must be very -alluring to people who would fain live out of -town and still be in it. When, by stepping on -an electric car or taking the train, you can, within -a quarter of an hour, be on your own piazza inhaling -fresh air and privileged to feast your eyes -on a half acre or less of greensward belonging to -yourself, there would seem to be strong inducements -for refusing to settle down in a stuffy, -smoky, dusty, wire-pestered city street, however -fashionable. Rapid transit has made or is making -the environs of our cities so accessible that -the time-honored problem presents itself under -different conditions than formerly. There is no -such thing now as the real country for anybody -who is not prepared to spend an hour in the train. -Even then one is liable to encounter asphalt walks -and a Soldier’s monument in the course of a sylvan -stroll. But the intervening territory is ample -and alluring.</p> - -<p>For one-half the rent demanded for a town -house of meagre dimensions in the middle of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -block, with no outlook whatever, new, spacious, -airy, ornamental homes with a plot of land and a -pleasing view attached, are to be had for the seeking -within easy living distance from nearly every -large city. When I begin to rhapsodize, as I -sometimes do, I am apt to ask myself why it is -that anybody continues to live in town. It was -only the other day that I happened, while driving -with my wife in the suburbs, to call her attention, -enthusiastically, to the new house which Perkins -has secured for himself. You may remember that -Perkins is the thin, nervous lawyer with four -daughters, who is solicitous as to what will become -of them when he is dead. We drove by -just as he came up the avenue from the station, -which is only a three minutes’ walk from the -house. He looked tired—he always does—but -there was already a fresh jauntiness in his tread -as though he sniffed ozone. He looked up at the -new house complacently, as well he might, for it -is large enough even for four daughters, and has -all the engaging impressiveness of a not too -quaintly proportioned and not too abnormally -stained modern villa, a highly evolved composite -of an old colonial mansion, a Queen Anne cottage, -and a French château. Before he reached<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -the front door, two of his daughters ran out to -embrace him and relieve him of his bag and bundles, -and a half-hour later, as we drove back, he -was playing lawn tennis with three of his girls, -in a white blazer with pink stripes and knickerbockers, -which gave his thin and eminently respectable -figure a rather rakish air.</p> - -<p>“Barbara,” I said to my wife, “why isn’t Perkins -doing the sensible thing? That’s a charming -house, double the size he could get for the same -money in town—and the rent is eight hundred -or a thousand dollars instead of fifteen hundred -or two thousand. He needs fewer servants out -here, for the parlor-maid isn’t kept on tenterhooks -to answer the door-bell, and there is fresh -air to come back to at night, and the means for -outdoor exercise on his own or his neighbor’s -lawn, which for a nervous, thin-chested, sedentary -man like Perkins is better than cod-liver -oil. Think what robust specimens those daughters -should be with such opportunities for tennis, -golf, skating, and bicycling.</p> - -<p>“On Sundays and holidays, if the spirit moves -him and his wife and the girls to start off on an -exploring expedition, they are not obliged to take -a train or pound over dusty pavements before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -they begin; the wild flowers and autumn foliage -and chestnut-burs are all to be had in the woods -and glens within a mile or two of their own home. -Or if he needs to be undisturbed, no noise, no -interruption, but nine hours’ sleep and an atmosphere -suited to rest and contemplation on his -piazza or by his cheerful, tasteful fireside. Why -isn’t this preferable to the artificial, restless life -of the city?”</p> - -<p>“And yet,” said Barbara, “I have heard you -state that only a rich man can afford to live in -the country.”</p> - -<p>Women certainly delight to store up remarks -made in quite another connection, and use them -as random arguments against us.</p> - -<p>“My dear Barbara,” said I, “this is not the -country. Of course in the real country, one needs -so many things to be comfortable nowadays—a -large house, stables, horses, and what not—it has -always seemed to me that a poor man with social -or cultivated instincts had better stay in town. -But have not Perkins and these other semi-suburbanites -hit the happy medium? They have -railroads or electric cars at their doors, and yet -they can get real barn-yard smells.”</p> - -<p>“I doubt if they can,” said Barbara. “That is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -unless they start a barn-yard for the purpose, and -that would bring the health authorities down upon -them at once. If this <em>were</em> the country, I could -entirely thrill at the description you have just -given of your friend Mr. Perkins. The real country -is divine; but this is oleomargarine country. -On the other hand, however, I quite agree with -you that if Mr. Perkins is delicate, this is a far -healthier place for him than the city, in spite of -the journey in the train twice a day. The houses—his -house in particular—are lovely, and I dare -say we all ought to do the same. He can certainly -come in contact with nature—such nature as -there is left within walking distance—easier than -city people. But to console me for not having one -of these new, roomy villas, and to prevent you -from doing anything rash, I may as well state a -few objections to your paradise. As to expense, -of course there is a saving in rent, and it is true -that the parlor-maid does not have to answer the -door-bell so often, and accordingly can do other -things instead. Consequently, too, Mrs. Perkins -and the four girls may get into the habit of going -about untidy and in their old clothes. A dowdy -girl with rosy cheeks and a fine constitution is a -pitiable object in this age of feminine progress.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -Mr. Perkins will have to look out for this, and -he may require cod-liver oil after all.</p> - -<p>“Then there is the question of schools. In -many of these semi-suburban paradises there are -no desirable schools, especially for girls, which -necessitates perpetual coming and going on trains -and cars, and will make education a wearisome -thing, especially for Mrs. Perkins. She will find, -too, that her servants are not so partial to wild -flowers and chestnut-burs and fresh air as her -husband and daughters. Only the inexperienced -will apply, and they will come to her reluctantly, -and as soon as she has accustomed them to her -ways and made them skilful, they will tell her -they are not happy, and need the society of their -friends in town.</p> - -<p>“Those are a few of the drawbacks to the -semi-suburban villa; but the crucial and most serious -objection is, that unless one is very watchful, -and often in spite of watchfulness, the semi-suburbanite -shuts himself off from the best social -interests and advantages. He begins by imagining -that there will be no difference; that he will -see just as much of his friends and go just as frequently -to balls and dinner-parties, the concert -and the theatre, the educational or philanthropic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -meeting. But just that requisite and impending -twenty minutes in the train or electric car at the -fag end of the day is liable to make a hermit of -him to all intents and purposes by the end of the -second year. Of course, if one is rich and has one’s -own carriage, the process of growing rusty is more -gradual, though none the less sure. On that very -account most people with a large income come to -town for a few months in winter at any rate. There -are so many things in life to do, that even friends -with the best and most loving intentions call once -on those who retire to suburban villas and let -that do for all time. To be sure, some people -revel in being hermits and think social entertainments -and excitements a mere waste of time -and energy. I am merely suggesting that for -those who wish to keep in close touch with the -active human interests of the day, the semi-suburban -villa is somewhat of a snare. The Perkinses -will have to exercise eternal vigilance, or they will -find themselves seven evenings out of seven nodding -by their fireside after an ample meal, with -all their social instincts relaxed.”</p> - -<p>Undeniably Barbara offered the best solution -of this question in her remark, that those who -can afford it spend the spring and autumn in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -country and come to town for the winter months. -Certainly, if I were one of the persons who are -said to have too much for their own good, I -should do something of the kind. I might not -buy a suburban villa; indeed, I would rather go -to the real country, where there are lowing kine, -and rich cream and genuine barn-yard smells, instead -of electric cars and soldiers’ monuments. -There would I remain until it was time to kill -the Thanksgiving turkey, and then I would hie -me to town in order to refresh my mental faculties -with city sights and sounds during the -winter-spring solstice, when the lowing kine are -all in the barn, and even one who owns a suburban -villa has to fight his way from his front -door through snow-drifts, and listen to the whistling -wind instead of the robin red-breast or -tinkling brook.</p> - -<p>Patterson, the banker, is surely to be envied -in his enjoyment of two establishments, notwithstanding -that the double ownership suggests -again the effete civilizations of Europe, and was -once considered undemocratic. Patterson, though -his son has been through the Keeley cure, and -his daughter lives apart from her husband, has -a charming place thirty-five miles from town,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -where he has many acres and many horses, cows, -and sheep, an expanse of woods, a running stream, -delicious vegetables and fruit; golf links, and a -fine country house with all the modern improvements, -including a cosy, spacious library. Then -he has another house—almost a palace—in -town which he opens in the late autumn and occupies -until the middle of May, for Patterson, in -spite of some foibles, is no tax dodger.</p> - -<p>Yes, to have two houses and live half of the -year in town and the other half in the country, -with six to eight weeks at the sea-side or mountains, -so as to give the children salt air and bathing, -or a thorough change, is what most of us -would choose in case we were blessed with too -much for our own good. But, unfortunately or -fortunately, most of us with even comfortable -incomes cannot have two houses, and consequently -must choose between town and country -or semi-country, especially as the six or eight -weeks at the sea-side or mountains is apt to seem -imperative when midsummer comes. According, -therefore, as we select to live in one or the other, -it behooves us to practise eternal vigilance, so -that we may not lose our love of nature and -wreck our nerves in the worldly bustle of city<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -life, or become inert, rusty, and narrow among -the lowing kine or in semi-suburban seclusion. -In order to live wisely, we who dwell in the -cities should in our spare hours seek fresh air, -sunlight, and intercourse with nature, and we -whose homes are out of town should in our turn -rehabilitate our social instincts and rub up our -manners.</p> - -<p>Regarding the real country, there is one other -consideration of which I am constantly reminded -by a little water-color hanging in my library, -painted by me a few years ago while I was staying -with my friend Henley. It represents a -modest but pretty house and a charming rustic -landscape. I call it Henley’s Folly. Henley, who -possessed ardent social instincts, had always lived -in town; but he suddenly took it into his head -to move thirty miles into the country. He told -me that he did so primarily for the benefit of -his wife and children, but added that it would -be the best thing in the world for him, that it -would domesticate him still more completely, -and give him time to read and cultivate himself. -When I went to stay with him six months later, -he was jubilant regarding the delights of the -country, and declared that he had become a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -genuine farmer. He pished at the suggestion -that the daily journey to and from town was exhausting, -and informed me that his one idea was -to get away from the bricks and mortar as early -in the afternoon as possible. Just two years later -I heard with surprise, one day, that the Henleys -had sold their farm and were coming back to -town. The reason—confided to me by one of the -family—was that his wife was so much alone that -she could not endure the solitude any longer. -“You see,” said my informant, “the nearest -house of their friends was four miles off, and as -Henley stayed in town until the last gun fired, the -days he returned home at all, and as he had or invented -a reason for staying in town all night at -least once a week, poor Mrs. Henley realized -that the lot of a farmer’s wife was not all roses -and sunshine.” From this I opine that if one -with ardent social instincts would live wisely he -should not become a gentleman farmer merely -for the sake of his wife and children.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Dwelling</i>.</h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-w-1.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Whether we live in the city or the -country, it must be apparent to all of -us that a great wave of architectural -activity in respect to dwelling-houses -has been spreading over our land during the past -twenty years. The American architect has been -getting in his work and showing what he could -do, with the result that the long, monotonous row -of brick or freestone custom-made city houses, -and the stereotyped white country farm-house -with green blinds and an ell or lean-to attached, -have given place to a vivid and heterogeneous -display of individual effort. Much of this is fine -and some deadly, for the display includes not -merely the generally tasteful and artistic conceptions -of our trained native architects, who -have studied in Paris, but the raw notions of -all the builders of custom-made houses who, -recognizing the public desire for striking and -original effects, are bent upon surpassing one -another.</p> - -<p>Therefore, while we have many examples, both -urban and suburban, of beautiful and impressive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -house architecture, the new sections of our cities -and suburbs fairly bristle with a multiplicity of -individual experiments in which the salient features -of every known type of architecture are -blended fearlessly together. The native architect -who has neither been to Paris nor been able -to devote much time to study has not been limited -in the expression of his genius by artistic -codes or conventions. Consequently he has felt -no hesitation in using extinguisher towers, mediæval -walls, battlement effects, Queen Anne cottage -lines, Old Colonial proportions, and Eastern -imagery in the same design, and any one of them -at any critical juncture when his work has seemed -to him not sufficiently striking for his own or the -owner’s taste.</p> - -<p>Satisfactory as all this is as evidence of a progressive -spirit, and admitting that many of even -these lawless manifestations of talent are not without -merit, it is nevertheless aggressively true that -the smug complacency of the proprietor of the -suburban villa, which is hedged about by a stone -rampart of variegated rough stone on an ordinary -building lot, has no justification whatever. -Nor has the master of the castellated, gloomy, -half-Moorish, half-mediæval mansion, which disfigures<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -the fashionable quarter of many of our -cities, occasion to congratulate himself on having -paid for a thing of beauty. The number of our -well-trained architects, though constantly increasing, -is still small, especially as compared with the -number of people of means who are eager to -occupy a thing of beauty; then, too, even the -trained architect is apt to try experiments for the -sake of testing his genius, on a dog, so to speak—some -confiding plutocrat with a love of splendor -who has left everything to him.</p> - -<p>The result is that grotesque and eye-distressing -monsters of masonry stand side by side on -many of our chief avenues with the most graceful -and finished specimens of native architectural -inspiration. As there is no law which prevents -one from building or buying an ugly house, and -as the architect, whose experiment on a dog tortures -the public eye, suffers no penalty for his -crime, our national house architecture may be -said to be working out its own salvation at the -public expense. It is the duty of a patriotic citizen -to believe that in this, as in other matters of -national welfare, the beautiful gradually will prevail; -and assuredly the many very attractive private -residences which one sees both in the city<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -and the country should tend to make us hopeful.</p> - -<p>Why is it that the rich man who would live -wisely feels the necessity for so large a house in -the city? Almost the first thing that one who has -accumulated or inherited great possessions does -nowadays is to leave the house where very likely -he has been comfortable and move into a mammoth -establishment suggesting rather a palace or -an emporium than a house. Why is this? Some -one answers that it is for the sake of abundant -light and extra space. Surely in a handsome house -of twenty-five or thirty feet front there should be -light and space enough for the average family, -however fastidious or exacting. In the country, -where one needs many spare rooms for the accommodation -of guests, there are some advantages -in the possession of an abnormally large -house. But how is the comfort of the city man -enhanced by one, that is, if the attendant discomforts -are weighed in the same scale? It has -sometimes seemed to me that the wealthy or successful -man invests in a prodigious mansion as -a sort of testimonial; as though he felt it incumbent -on him to erect a conventional monument -to his own grandeur or success, in order to let -the public entertain no doubt about it. But so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -many otherwise sensible men have deliberately -built huge city houses that this can scarcely be -the controlling motive in all cases. Perhaps, if -asked, they would throw the responsibility on -their wives. But it is even more difficult to understand -why a sensible woman should wish one -of the vast houses which our rising architects are -naturally eager to receive orders to construct. A -handsome house where she can entertain attractively, -yes: an exquisitely furnished, sunny, corner -house by all means; a house where each child -may have a room apart and where there are plenty -of spare rooms, if you like; but why a mammoth -cave? She is the person who will suffer the discomforts -to be weighed in the same scale, for the -care will fall on her.</p> - -<p>We have in this country neither trained servants -nor the housekeeper system. The wife and -mother who is the mistress of a huge establishment -wishes it to be no less a home than her -former residence, and her husband would be the -first to demur were she to cast upon others the -burdens of immediate supervision. A moderate-sized -modern house is the cause of care enough, -as we all know, and wherefore should any woman -seek to multiply her domestic worries by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -duplicating or trebling the number of her servants? -To become the manager of a hotel or to -cater for an ocean steamship is perhaps a tempting -ambition for one in search of fortune, but -why should a woman, who can choose what she -will have, elect to be the slave of a modern palace -with extinguisher towers? Merely to be able -to invite all her social acquaintance to her house -once a year without crowding them? It would -be simpler to hire one of the many halls now -adapted for the purpose.</p> - -<p>The difficulty of obtaining efficient servants, -and the worries consequent upon their inefficiency, -is probably the chief cause of the rapid -growth of the apartment-house among us. The -contemporary architect has selected this class of -building for some of his deadliest conceits. Great -piles of fantastically disposed stone and iron -tower up stories upon stories high, and frown -upon us at the street-corners like so many Brobdingnagians. -Most of them are very ugly; nevertheless -they contain the homes of many citizens, -and the continuous appearance of new and -larger specimens attests their increasing popularity. -Twenty years ago there was scarcely an -apartment-house to be seen in our cities. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -was a certain number of hotels where families -could and did live all the year round, but the -ten-story monster, with a janitor, an elevator, -steam heat, electric light, and all the alleged comforts -of home, was practically unknown. We -have always professed to be such a home-loving -people, and the so-called domestic hearth has -always been such a touchstone of sentiment -among us that the exchange of the family roof -for the community of a flat by so many well-to-do -persons certainly seems to suggest either that -living cheek by jowl with a number of other -households is not so distasteful as it seems to -the uninitiated, or else that modern housekeeping -is so irksome that women are tempted to -swallow sentiment and escape from their trammels -to the comparatively easy conditions of an -apartment. It does seem as though one’s identity -would be sacrificed or dimmed by becoming -a tenant in common, and as though the family -circle could never be quite the same thing to -one who was conscious that his was only a part -of one tremendous whole. And yet, more and -more people seem to be anxious to share a janitor -and front door, and, though the more fastidious -insist on their own cuisine, there are not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -a few content to entrust even their gastronomic -welfare to a kitchen in common.</p> - -<p>It must be admitted, even by those of us who -rejoice in our homes, that there is much to be said -in favor of the apartment-house as a solver of -practical difficulties, and that our imaginations -are largely responsible for our antipathy. When -once inside a private apartment of the most desirable -and highly evolved kind one cannot but -admit that there is no real lack of privacy, and -that the assertion that the owner has no domestic -hearth is in the main incorrect. To be sure -the domain belonging to each suite is comparatively -circumscribed; there is no opportunity for -roaming from garret to cellar; no private laundry; -no private backyard; and no private front-door -steps; but to all practical intents one is no -less free from intrusion or inspection than in a -private house, and it may also be said that reporters -and other persevering visitors are kept -at a more respectful distance by virtue of the -janitor in common on the ground floor. The -sentiment in favor of limited individual possession -is difficult to eradicate from sensitive souls, -and rightly, perhaps, many of us refuse to be -convinced; but it remains true that the woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -who has become the mistress of a commodious -and well-managed apartment must have many -agreeable quarters of an hour in congratulating -herself that perplexities concerning chores, heating, -lighting, flights of stairs, leaks, and a host -of minor domestic matters no longer threaten -her peace of mind, and—greatest boon of all—that -she now can manage with two or three -servants instead of five or six.</p> - -<p>In this newly developed fondness for flats we -are again guilty of imitating one of the effete -civilizations—France this time—where it has -long been the custom for families to content -themselves with a story or two instead of a -house; though we can claim the size and style -of architecture of the modern apartment pile as -our special brand upon the adopted institution. -The introduction of the custom here seems to me -to be the result of exhaustion of the female nervous -system. The American housewife, weary of -the struggle to obtain efficient servants, having -oscillated from all Catholics to all Protestants, -from all Irish to all Swedes and back again, having -experimented with negroes and Chinamen, -and returned to pure white, having tried native -help and been insulted, and reverted to the Celtic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -race, she—the long-suffering—has sought -the apartment-house as a haven of rest. She—the -long-suffering—has assuredly been in a false -position since the Declaration of Independence -declared that all men are created equal, for she -has been forced to cherish and preserve a domestic -institution which popular sentiment has -refused to recognize as consistent with the principles -of Democracy. Our National creed, whether -presented in the primer or from the platform, -has ever repudiated the idea of service -when accompanied by an abatement of personal -independence or confession of social inferiority. -Therefore the native American woman has persistently -refused, in the face of high wages and -of exquisite moral suasion, to enter domestic -service, and has preferred the shop or factory -to a comfortable home where she would have to -crook the knee and say “Yes, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>At the same time the native American woman, -ever since “help” in the sense of social acquaintances -willing to accommodate for hire and dine -with the family has ceased to adorn her kitchen -and parlor, has been steadily forced by the demands -of complex modern living to have servants -of her own. And where was she to obtain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -them? Excepting the negro, only among the -emigrants of foreign countries, at first among -the Irish, and presently among the English and -Swedes, all of whom, unharassed by scruples as -to a consequent loss of self-respect, have been -prompt to recognize that this field of employment -lay open to them and was undisputed. -They have come, and they still come in herds -to our shores, raw and undisciplined, the overflow -from their own countries; and as fast as -they arrive they are feverishly snapped up by -the American housewife, who finds the need of -servants more and more imperative; for some -one must do the elaborate cooking, some one -must do the fine washing, some one must polish -the silver, rub the brasses, care for the lamps, -and dust the bric-à-brac in her handsomest establishment. -And no one but the emigrant, or the -son and daughter of the emigrant, is willing to.</p> - -<p>The consequence is that, though the native -American woman is as resolute as ever in her -own refusal to be a cook or waitress in a private -family, domestic service exists as an institution -no less completely than it exists in Europe, and -practically under the same conditions, save that -servants here receive considerably higher wages<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -than abroad because the demand is greater than -the supply. There is a perpetual wail in all our -cities and suburbs that the supply of competent -cooks, and skilled laundresses and maids is so -limited, and well-trained servants can demand -practically their own prices. The conditions of -service, however, are the same. That is, the servant -in the household of the free-born is still -the servant; and still the servant in the household -where the mistress, who has prospered, -would originally have gone into service had she -not been free-born. For there is no one more -prompt than the American housewife to keep a -servant when she can afford one, and the more -she is obliged to keep the prouder is she, though -her nervous system may give way under the -strain. By this I do not mean that the servants -here are ill-treated. On the contrary, the consideration -shown them is greater, and the quarters -provided for them are far more comfortable on -this side of the water than abroad. Indeed, servants -fare nowhere in the world so well as in the -establishments of the well-to-do people of our -large cities. Their bedrooms are suitable and often -tasteful, they are attended by the family physician -if ill, they are not overworked, and very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -slight checks are put on their liberty. But they -are undeniably servants. The free-born American -mistress does not regard her servants as social -equals. She expects them to stand up if they -are sitting down when she enters the room. She -expects them to address her sons and daughters -as Mr. Samuel and Miss Fanny, and to be called -in turn Maggie or Albertine (or Thompson or -Jones, <i lang="fr">à l’anglaise</i>) without a prefix. She does -her best, in short, to preserve all the forms and -all the deference on the one hand, and the haughtiness -or condescension on the other which govern -the relations between servant and mistress -abroad.</p> - -<p>From the fact that we need so many more servants -than formerly, to care properly for our establishments, -the servant here is becoming more -and more of a machine. That is, she is in nearly -the same category with the electric light and the -furnace. We expect him or her to be as unobtrusive -as possible, to perform work without a hitch, -and not to draw upon our sympathies unnecessarily. -The mistress of one or two girls is sure to -grow friendly and concerned as to their outside -welfare, but when she has a staff of five or six, she -is thankful if she is not obliged to know anything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -about them. The letter which appeared in a New -York newspaper some years ago, from an American -girl, in which she declared that she had left -service because her master and his sons handed -her their dripping umbrellas with the same air as -they would have handed them to a graven image, -was thoroughly in point. The reason the native -American girl will not become a servant, in spite -of the arguments of the rational and godly, is that -service is the sole employment in this country in -which she can be told with impunity that she is -the social inferior of any one else. It is the telling -which she cannot put up with. It is one thing to -be conscious that the person you are constantly -associated with is better educated, better mannered, -and more attractive than yourself, and it is -another to be told at every opportunity that this -is so. In the shop, in the factory, and in other -walks of life, whatever her real superiors may -think of her, they must treat her as a social equal. -Even that shrill-voiced, banged, bangled, impertinent, -slangy, vulgar product of our mammoth -retail drygoods system, who seems to believe -herself a pattern of ladylike behavior, is aware -in her heart that she does not know how to behave, -and yearns to resemble the well-bred woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -whom she daily insults. But the happiness of her -life, and its main-spring, too, lies in the consciousness -that she is free to become the first lady in -the land, and that she herself is to be her sole -critic and detractor. Why is she not right in refusing -to sacrifice her independence? Why should -she sell her birthright for a mess of pottage?</p> - -<p>An anomalous condition of affairs is presented -by this contrast between the free-born American -woman as a mistress and as a revolter against -domestic service, and it seems to me that one of -two things must come to pass. Necessarily we -shall continue to have cooks, waiting-maids, and -laundresses; at least our food must be prepared, -our drawing-rooms dusted, and our linen ironed -by some one. But either we shall have to accept -and acknowledge the existence among us of a -class, recruited from foreign emigrants and their -descendants, which is tarred with the brush of -social proscription in direct violation of democratic -principles, or we must change the conditions -of domestic service—change them so that -condescension and servility vanish, and the contract -of service becomes like the other contracts -of employment between man and man, and man -and woman.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> - -<p>It is fruitless now to inquire what the free-born -American woman would have done without the -foreign emigrant to cook and wash for her. The -question is whether, now that she has her, she is -going to keep her, and keep her in the same comfortable -and well-paid but palpable thraldom as -at present. If so, she will be merely imitating the -housewives of the effete civilizations; she will be -doing simply what every English, French, and -German woman does and has done ever since -class distinctions began. But in that case, surely, -we shall be no longer able to proclaim our immunity -from caste, and our Fourth of July orators -will find some difficulty in showing that other -nations are more effete in this respect than ourselves. -Twenty-five years more of development -in our houses, hotels, and restaurants, if conducted -on present lines, will produce an enormous -ducking and scraping, fee-seeking, livery-wearing -servant class, which will go far to establish -the claim put forth by some of our critics, that -equality on this side of the water means only political -equality, and that our class distinctions, -though not so obvious, are no less genuine than -elsewhere. In this event the only logical note of -explanation to send to the Powers will be that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -social equality was never contemplated by the -signers of the Declaration of Independence, and -that, though it is true that any man may become -President of the United States, there are as great -inequalities in morals, intellect, and manners -among sons of liberty as among the subjects of -the Czar. To this the Powers will be justified -in uttering a disappointed and slightly ironical -“Oh!” But perhaps the foreign emigrant will -have something to say on the subject. Perhaps -the horde from across the seas, now lured by -high wages, will decrease in numbers, or it may -be that their descendants here will learn through -contact with the free-born revolter against domestic -service to revolt too.</p> - -<p>What would the free-born American mistress -do then? With the free-born revolter still obdurate, -and the foreign emigrant ceasing to emigrate -or recalcitrant, she would be in an unpleasant -fix in her elaborate establishment conducted -on effete principles. In this practical dilemma, -rather than in an awakened moral sense, seems -to lie our best hope of regeneration, for it cannot -be denied that the free-born American mistress -is doing all she can at present to perpetuate the -foreign idea of domestic service, and it seems<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -probable that so long as the foreign emigrant is -willing to be bribed the true principles of democracy -will be violated. Already the difficulty of -obtaining servants is inducing home-loving families -to seek the apartment-house. A more distinct -dearth would speedily change the relations -between mistress and servant into that of contractor -and contractee, as in other employments -in this country. It may be that the descendants -of the emigrant will be unable to resist the lure -offered them, and that the free-born mistress -will triumph. If so, we shall become no better -and possibly no worse than the effete civilizations -we promised to make blush by the worth -of our institutions.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>House-Furnishing</i> and the <i>Commissariat</i>.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-a-1.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">After a man and his wife have -made up their minds whether to -live in a town house or suburban -villa, they are obliged to consider -next what they will have -in the way of furniture, and presently what they -will have for dinner. The consciousness that a -house has nothing in it but the barest fixtures—the -gasometer, the water-tanks, and the electric -wires—and that it is for you and your wife -to decide exactly what shall go into it in the way -of wall-papers, carpets, upholstery, and objects -of virtu, is inspiring, even though your purse be -not plethoric and your knowledge of æsthetics -limited. The thought at once presents itself that -here is the chance of your lifetime to demonstrate -how beautiful and cosy a home may be, and you -set eagerly to work to surpass your predecessors -of equal means. It is a worthy ambition to endeavor -to make the matrimonial nest or the -home of maturer years attractive, and if we were -to peer back far enough into the past of even -this country, to the time when our great great-grandmothers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -set up housekeeping with our -great great-grandfathers, we should find that furnishing -was considered a seriously delightful matter, -though not perhaps the almost sacred trust -we regard it to-day. I mean our great great-grandparents -who used to live in those charming -old colonial houses, and who owned the mahogany -desks with brass handles and claw feet, the -tall clocks, the ravishing andirons, and all the -other old-fashioned furniture which is now so -precious and difficult to find. Distance may lend -such enchantment to a spinning-wheel, a warming-pan, -or a spinnet, that one is liable to become -hysterical in praise of them, and a calm, æsthetic -mind, outside the limits of an antique furniture -dealer’s store, would be justified in stigmatizing -many of the now cherished effects of our great -great-grandparents as truck; but, on the other -hand, who will dispute that they possessed very -many lovely things? They had an eye for graceful -shapes in their sideboards and tables; somehow -the curves they imparted to the backs of -their chairs cannot be duplicated now so as to -look the same; and the patterns of the satins, -flowered chintzes, and other stuffs which they -used for covers and curtains, exercise a witchery<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -upon us, even as we see them now frayed and -faded, which cannot proceed wholly from the -imagination.</p> - -<p>They had no modern comforts, poor things; -no furnaces, no ice-chests, no set bath-tubs, no -running water, no sanitary improvements, no -gas or electric light; and their picturesque kitchen -hearths, with great caldrons and cranes and leather -blowers, must have been exceedingly inconvenient -to cook in; but even their most incommodious -appliances were not without artistic -charm.</p> - -<p>After them came the deluge—the era of -horse-hair, the Sahara of democratic unloveliness, -when in every house, in every country -town, the set best room, which was never used -by the family, stood like a mortuary chapel -solely for the reception of guests. In the cities, -in the households of the then enlightened, rep—generally -green—was frequently substituted -for the sable horse-hair. Then came the days -when a dining-room or drawing-room was furnished -in one pervasive hue—a suit of sables, a -brick red, a dark green, or a deep maroon. Everything -matched; the chairs and tables, desks -and book-cases were bought in sets at one fell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -swoop by the householder of the period who desired -to produce artistic effects. For forty years -or so this was the prevailing fashion, and the -limit of purely indigenous expression.</p> - -<p>To it presently succeeded the æsthetic phase, -borrowed from England. Then, instead of selecting -everything to match, a young or old couple -bought so as just not to match, but to harmonize. -All sorts of queer and subtle shades and tints -in wall-papers and fabrics appeared, principally -dallyings with and improvisings upon green, -brown, and yellow; frescos and dados were the -rage; and a wave of interest in the scope and -mission of eccentric color spread over the land. -Valuable as this movement was as an educational -factor, there was nothing American in it; or in -other words, we were again simply imitative. The -very fact, however, that we were ready to imitate, -betokened that horse-hair and rep had ceased -to satisfy national aspiration, and that we were -willing to accept suggestions from without, inasmuch -as no native prophet had arisen. But -though the impetus came from abroad, the awakening -was genuine. Since then the desire to furnish -tastefully has been steadily waxing among -the more well-to-do portion of the population.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -As in the case of architecture, the increasing interest -has called into existence a professional -class, which, though still small and less generally -employed than their house-designing brethren, -is beginning to play an important part in the -education of the public taste in internal house -decoration and equipment. The idea that any -man or woman may be more fitted than his -or her neighbor to choose a carpet or a wall-paper -has been grudgingly admitted, and still -irritates the average house-owner who is ready -to furnish. But the masters, and more conspicuously -the mistresses, of the competing superb -establishments in our cities, have learned, from -the sad experience of some of their predecessors, -to swallow their individual trust in their -own powers of selection, and to put themselves -unreservedly into the clutches of a professional -house decorator.</p> - -<p>Furnishing a mammoth establishment from -top to bottom with somebody else’s money, and -plenty of it, must be a delightful occupation. -There can be no carking consciousness of price -to act as a drag on genius, and it would seem as -though the house decorator who was not interfered -with under these circumstances had a rare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -chance to show what is what. When he fails, -which is by no means out of the question, he -can ordinarily shift the responsibility on to his -employer, for an employer can rarely resist the -temptation of insisting on some one touch to -prove his or her own capacity, and of course it -is a simple matter for the man of art to demonstrate -that this one touch has spoiled everything. -The temptation to try to be as original and captivating -in results as possible must be almost irresistible, -especially when one’s elbow is constantly -jogged by furniture and other dealers, -who are only too eager to reproduce a Directory -drawing-room or any other old-time splendor. -But there is no denying that, whatever his limitations, -the house decorator is becoming the best -of educators on this side of the water, for though -we cannot afford or have too much confidence in -our own taste to employ him, our wives watch -him like cats and are taking in his ideas through -the pores, if not directly.</p> - -<p>There are, it is true, almost as many diverse -styles of internal ornamentation as of external architecture -in our modern residences, for everyone -who has, or thinks he has, an aptitude for furnishing -is trying his professional or ’prentice hand,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -sometimes with startling results; yet the diversities -seem less significant than in the case of external -architecture, or perhaps it may be said that -the sum total of effect is much nearer to finality -or perfection. If as a nation we are deriving the -inspiration for the furniture and upholsteries of -our drawing-rooms and libraries from the best -French and Dutch models of a century or more -ago, we certainly can boast that the comfortable -features which distinguish our apartments from -their prototypes are a native growth. If as a people -we cannot yet point to great original artistic -triumphs, may we not claim the spacious and dignified -contemporary refrigerator, the convenient -laundry, the frequently occurring and palatial -bath-room, the health-conducing ventilator-pipe -and sanitary fixtures, and the various electrical -and other pipes, tubes, and appliances which -have become a part of every well-ordered house, -as a national cult? To be genuinely comfortable -in every-day life seems to have become the aim -all the world over of the individual seeking to -live wisely, and the rest of the world is in our -debt for the many valuable mechanical aids to -comfort in the home which have been invented -on this side of the water.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> - -<p>This quest for comfort is being constantly -borne in mind also in the æsthetic sense. We -fit our drawing-rooms now to live in as well as -to look at. We expect to sit on our sofas and in -our easy chairs; hence we try to make them attractive -to the back as well as to the eye. Though -our wives may still occasionally pull down the -window-shades to exclude a too dangerous sun, -they no longer compel us to view our best rooms -from the threshold as a cold, flawless, forbidden -land. The extreme æsthetic tendencies which were -rampant twenty years ago have been toned down -by this inclination, among even our most elaborate -house-furnishers, to produce the effect that -rooms are intended for every-day use by rational -beings. The ultra-queer colors have disappeared, -and the carpets and wall-papers no longer suggest -perpetual biliousness or chronic nightmare.</p> - -<p>I think, too, the idea that a drawing-room can -be made bewitchingly cosey by crowding it with -all one’s beautiful and ugly earthly possessions -has been demonstrated to be a delusion. In these -days of many wedding presents, it is difficult for -young people to resist the temptation of showing -all they have received. I remember that Mrs. -George J. Spriggs—she was the daughter, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -will remember, of ex-Assistant Postmaster-General -Homer W. Green—had seven lamps in her -parlor in Locust Road, three of them with umbrageous -Japanese shades. Her husband explained -to me that there had been a run on -lamps and pepper-pots in their individual case.</p> - -<p>Now, Mrs. Julius Cæsar would have managed -more cleverly. She would have made the lamp-dealer -exchange four or five of the lamps for, say, -an ornamental brass fender, a brass coal-scuttle, -or a Japanese tea-tray, and have made the jeweller -substitute some equally desirable table ornaments -for the pepper-pots. And yet, when I made -my wedding call on Mrs. Cæsar, ten years ago, I -remember thinking that her drawing-room was a -sort of compromise between a curiosity shop and -a menagerie. To begin with, I stumbled over the -head of a tiger skin, which confronted me as I -passed through the <i lang="fr">portière</i>, so that I nearly fell -into the arms of my hostess. It seemed to me -that I had stepped into a veritable bazaar. A large -bear skin lay before the fire as a hearth-rug, and -on either side of the grate squatted a large, orientally -conceived china dragon with an open -mouth. Here and there, under furniture or in -corners, were gaping frogs in bronze or china. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -low plush-covered table was densely arrayed with -small china dogs of every degree. On another -table was spread a number of silver ornaments—a -silver snuff-box, a silver whistle, a silver feather, -a silver match-box, and a silver shoe-buckle—all -objects of virtu of apparently antique workmanship. -There were three lamps with ornamental -shades—a fluted china shade, a paper shade in -semblance of a full-blown rose, and a yellow satin -shade with drooping fringe. From the low studded -ceiling depended a vast Japanese paper lantern. -Sundry and divers china vases and shepherdesses -occupied the mantel-piece and the top -of the book-case, and had overflowed on to a writing-table -supplied with brass ornaments. There -were numerous pictures, large and small, on the -walls, under many of which colored china plates -had been hung. There were photographs in frames -everywhere. The actual space where I could stand -without knocking over anything was about the -size of a hat bath, and was shut in by a circle of -low chairs and divans besprinkled with æsthetic -yellow, green, and pink soft silk cushions. On -one of these divans my hostess was reclining in -a Grosvenor gallery tea-gown, so that she seemed -to wallow in cushions, and Julius Cæsar himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -was sunk in the depths of one of the chairs, so -near the ground that his knees seemed to rest on -his chin, and one might fairly have taken him for -another china frog of extraordinary proportions. -All this in a comparatively small room where -there were several other knick-knacks which I -have omitted to mention. Better this, perhaps, -than the drawing-room of forty years ago, when -the visitor’s gaze was bounded by cold green rep, -and he was restrained only by decorum from hurling -into the fire the tidy or antimacassar which -tickled his neck, or detached itself and wriggled -down between his back and the back of the chair.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Cæsar’s drawing-room, in her new -house on Belport Avenue, has been furnished -from a very different point of view than her first -one, which shows how rapidly tastes change in -a progressive society. Mrs. Cæsar and Julius -chose everything themselves this time as they -did before, but they had learned from experience, -and from the new work of the contemporary -decorator. There is plenty of unoccupied -space now to show her possessions to advantage, -and there are not too many possessions visible -for the size of the parlor; there is neither so -much uniformity of color and design as to weary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -the eye, nor so much variety or eccentricity as -to irritate it; consequently, the effect on the visitor -is not that he is in a room intended for luxurious -display, but in an exquisitely furnished -room adapted for daily use. In other words, the -controlling idea at present, of those who seek to -make their houses charming, seems to be to -combine comfort with elegance so skilfully that -while one may realize the latter, one is conscious -only of the former. Though decorators are still -experimenting, as probably they always will be, -to attain novel effects, they are disposed to make -use of queer or attenuated hues, Moorish blazonry, -stamped leather, peacock feathers, elephant -tusks, stained-glass windows, and Japanese -lacquer-work with much more discretion than a -few years ago. Virgin-white instead of dirt-brown -lights up our halls and stair-cases, and the vast -chandeliers which used to dazzle the eye no -longer dangle from the ceiling. Indeed, it seems -as though it would be difficult to make the interior -of the homes of our well-to-do class more -comfortable and attractive than they are at present. -It may be that some of our very rich people -are disposed to waste their energies in devising -and striving for more consummate elegance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -thereby exposing us all to the charge that we are -becoming too luxurious for our spiritual good. -But there can be little question that the ambition -to surround one’s self with as much beauty, consistent -with comfort, as one can afford is desirable, -even from the ethical standpoint.</p> - -<p>Undeniably our point of view has changed extraordinarily -in the last thirty years in regard to -house-furnishing, as in regard to so many other -matters of our material welfare, and there certainly -is some ground for fearing that the pendulum -is swinging just at present too far in the -direction opposite to that of high thinking and -low living; but, after all, though the reaction -from ugliness has been and continues to be exuberant, -it is as yet by no means wide-embracing. -In fact, our cultivated well-to-do class—though -it is well abreast of the rest of the civilized world -in aspiration and not far behind it in accomplishment, -with certain vivifying traits of its own -which the old world societies do not possess or -have lost—is still comparatively small; and -there is still so much Stygian darkness outside it -in respect to house-furnishing and home comfort -in general, that we can afford to have the exuberance -continue for the present; for there is some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -reason to believe that most of the descendants -of our old high thinkers have become high livers, -or at least, if low livers, have ceased to be high -thinkers. Mutton-soup for breakfast and unattractive -domestic surroundings seem to comport -nowadays with ignoble aims, if nothing worse; -moreover, it must not be forgotten that the plain -people of the present is no longer the plain people -of forty years ago, but is largely the seed of -the influx of foreign peasants, chiefly inferior -and often scum, which the sacredness of our institutions -has obliged us to receive.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>House-Furnishing</i> and the <i>Commissariat</i>.</h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-i-1.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">If we have become cosmopolitan in -the matter of domestic comfort and -elegance as regards our drawing-rooms, -the same is certainly true of -our dining-rooms, and dinner-tables. But here -it seems to me that we are more justly open to -criticism on the score of over-exuberance. That -is, the fairly well-to-do class, for the plain people -of foreign blood, and the low liver of native -blood, eat almost as indigestible food, and quite -as rapidly and unceremoniously, as the pie and -doughnut nurtured yeoman of original Yankee -stock, who thrived in spite of his diet, and left -to his grandchildren the heritage of dyspepsia -which has become nervous prostration in the present -generation. It seems as though our instincts -of hospitality have grown in direct ratio with our -familiarity with and adoption of civilized creature -comforts, and any charge of exuberance -may doubtless be fairly ascribed to the national -trait of generosity, the abuse of which is after -all a noble blemish. But, on the other hand, -facts remain, even after one has given a pleasing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -excuse for their existence, and it may be doubted -if a spendthrift is long consoled by the reflection -that his impecuniosity is due to his own disinclination -to stint. May it not truthfully be -charged against the reasonably well-to-do American -citizen that he has a prejudice against thrift, -especially where the entertainment of his fellow -man or woman is concerned? The rapid growth -of wealth and the comparative facility of becoming -rich during the last half century of our development, -has operated against the practice of -small economies, so that we find ourselves now -beset by extravagant traditions which we hesitate -to deviate from for fear of seeming mean. -Many a man to-day pays his quarter of a dollar -ruefully and begrudgingly to the colored Pullman -car porter at the end of his journey, when -he is “brushed off,” because he cannot bring himself -to break the custom which fixed the fee. It -would be interesting to estimate what the grand -total of saving to the American travelling public -would have been if ten instead of twenty-five -cents a head had been paid to the tyrant in question -since he first darkened the situation. If not -enough to maintain free schools for the negro, at -least sufficient to compel railroad managements<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -to give their employees suitable wages instead -of letting the easy-going traveller, who has already -paid for the privilege of a reserved seat, -pay a premium on that. The exorbitant fees bestowed -on waiters is but another instance of a -tendency to be over-generous, which, once reduced -to custom, becomes the severest kind of -tax, in that it is likely to affect the warmest-hearted -people.</p> - -<p>This tendency to be needlessly lavish in expenditure -is most conspicuous when we are offering -hospitality in our own homes. Among the -viands which we have added to the bills of fare -of humanity, roast turkey and cranberry-sauce, -Indian meal, and probably baked beans, are entitled -to conspicuous and honorable mention, but -is it not true, notwithstanding champagne is a -foreign wine, that the most prodigious discovery -in the line of food or drink yet made by the well-to-do -people of this country, is the discovery of -champagne? Does it not flow in one golden effervescing -stream, varied only by the pops caused -by the drawing of fresh corks, from the Statue -of Liberty Enlightening the World to the Golden -Gate? And the circumstance that every pop -costs the entertainer between three and four dollars,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -seems in no wise to interrupt the cheery explosions. -There are some people who do not -drink champagne or any other wine, from principle, -and there are some with whom it does not -agree, but the average individual finds that the -interest of festive occasions is heightened by its -presence in reasonable abundance, and is apt to -deplore its total absence with internal groans. -But surely ninety-nine men in our large cities -out of one hundred, who are accustomed to entertain -and be entertained, must be weary of the -sight of this expensive tempter at the feast, which -it is so difficult to refuse when set before one, and -which is so often quaffed against better judgment -or inclination. The champagne breakfast, the -champagne luncheon, the champagne dinner, and -the champagne supper, with a champagne cocktail -tossed in as a stop-gap, hound the social favorite -from January to December, until he is fain -to dream of the Old Oaken Bucket, and sooner -or later to drink Lithia water only.</p> - -<p>With perpetual and unremitting champagne -as the key-note of social gatherings, no wonder -that the table ornaments and the comestibles become -more splendid. A little dinner of eight or -ten is no longer a simple matter of a cordial invitation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -and an extra course. The hostess who -bids her contemporaries to dine with her most -informally ten days hence, uses a figure of speech -which is innocuous from the fact that it is known -to be a deliberate falsehood. She begins generally -by engaging a cook from outside to prepare -the dinner, which must surely wound the sensibilities -of any self-respecting couple the first time, -however hardened to the situation they may become -later.</p> - -<p>At this stage of my reflections I am interrupted -by my wife, Barbara—for I was thinking aloud—with -a few words of expostulation.</p> - -<p>“Are you not a little severe? I assume that -you are referring now to people with a comfortable -income, but who are not disgustingly rich. -Of course, nowadays, the very rich people keep -cooks who can cook for a dinner-party, cooks at -eight dollars or more a week and a kitchen maid; -so it is only the hostess with a cook at four and -a half to six dollars a week and no kitchen maid -who is likely to engage an accommodator. But -what is the poor thing to do? Give a wretched, -or plain dinner which may make her hair grow -white in a single night? Surely, when a woman -invites friends to her house she does not wish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -them to go away half starved, or remembering -that they have had disagreeable things to eat. -In that case she would prefer not to entertain at -all.”</p> - -<p>“The question is,” I answered, “whether it is -more sensible to try to be content with what one -has, or to vie with those who are better off. We -do not attempt to dine on gold plate, nor have -we a piano decorated with a five-thousand-dollar -painting by one of the great artists, like Patterson, -the banker. Why should we endeavor to -compete with his kitchen?”</p> - -<p>“The clever thing, of course, is to find a cook -for six dollars a week who can cook for a dinner-party,” -answered Barbara, pensively; “and yet,” -she added, “though our cook can, the chances are -that nine out of ten of the people who dine with -us think that we hired her for the occasion.”</p> - -<p>“Precisely. Just because the custom has grown -so. It is sheer extravagance.”</p> - -<p>“After all, my dear, it is a comparatively small -matter—a five-dollar bill.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me. Five dollars for the cook, because -one’s own cook is not good enough; three -or five dollars for an accommodating maid or -waiter, because you cannot trust your chamber-maid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -to assist your waitress; eight dollars for -champagne, and so on.”</p> - -<p>“Do not say ‘your’—mine can.”</p> - -<p>“Her, then—the woman of the day. I am trying -to show that a small informal dinner is a -cruelly expensive affair for the average man with -a comfortable working income.”</p> - -<p>“I admit that a dinner for eight or ten is expensive,” -said Barbara. “It means twenty-five -dollars at the lowest, even if you have your own -cook. But what is one to do? You don’t seem -to appreciate that a good plain cook cannot usually -prepare dinner-party dishes, and that a plain -dinner is now almost as different from a dinner-party -dinner as a boiled egg is from caviare.”</p> - -<p>“Precisely. There is the pity of it. The growth -here of the French restaurant and the taste for -rich and elaborate cookery has doubtless been a -good thing in its way, if only that it is now possible -to obtain a tolerably well-cooked meal at -most of the hotels in our large cities and principal -watering-places; but why should people of moderate -means and social instincts feel constrained -to offer a banquet on every occasion when they -entertain? I for one consider it a bore to have -so much provided when I go out to dinner.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You must admit,” said Barbara, “that dinners -are not nearly so long as they were a few -years ago. Now, by means of the extra service -you complain of, and by keeping the number of -courses down, a dinner ought not to last longer -than an hour and a half, whereas it used to take -two hours and over. In England they are much -worse than here. You are given, for instance, -two puddings, one after the other, and ices to -follow.”</p> - -<p>“I agree,” said I, “that we have curtailed the -length so that there is not much to complain of -on that score. I think, though, that comparatively -plain dishes well served are quite as apt -to please as the aspics, chartreuses, timbales, and -other impressive gallicisms under which the accommodating -party cook is wont to cater to the -palates of informally invited guests. I sometimes -think that the very few of our great great-grandfathers -who knew how to live at all must have -had more appetizing tables than we. Their family -cooks, from all accounts, knew how to roast and -boil and bake and stew, culinary arts which somehow -seem to be little understood by the chefs -of to-day. Then again, the old-fashioned Delft -crockery—blue ships sailing on a blue sea—was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -very attractive. Our modern dinner-tables, when -arrayed for a party, have almost too much fuss -and feathers. Women worry until they get cut -glass, if it is not given them as a wedding present, -and several sets of costly plates—Sèvres, -Dresden, or Crown Derby—are apt to seem -indispensable to housekeepers of comparatively -limited means.”</p> - -<p>“Cut glass is lovely, and the same plates -through seven courses are rather trying,” said -Barbara, parenthetically.</p> - -<p>“Of course it is lovely, and I am very glad -you have some. But is not the modern American -woman of refined sensibilities just a little too -eager to crowd her table with every article of -virtu she possesses—every ornamental spoon, -dish, cup, and candlestick—until one is unable -to see at any one spot more than a square inch -of tablecloth? In the centre of the table she sets -a crystal bowl of flowers, a silver basket of ferns, -or a dish of fruit. This is flanked by apostle or -gold-lined spoons, silver dishes of confectionery -of various kinds, silver candlesticks or candelabra -fitted with pink or saffron shades, one or two -of which are expected to catch fire, an array of -cut glass or Venetian glass at every plate, and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -like as not, pansies strewn all over the table.”</p> - -<p>“The modern dinner-table is very pretty,” -responded Barbara. “I don’t see how it could -be improved materially.”</p> - -<p>“I dare say, but somehow one can’t help -thinking at times that the effort for effect is too -noticeable, and that the real object of sitting down -to dinner in company, agreeable social intercourse, -is consequently lost sight of. If only the -very rich were guilty of wanton display, the answer -would be that the rank and file of our well-to-do, -sensible people have very simple entertainments. -Unfortunately, while the very rich -are constantly vying to outstrip one another, the -dinner-table and the dinner of the well-to-do -American are each growing more and more complex -and elaborate. Perhaps not more so than -abroad among the nobility or people of means; -but certainly we have been Europeanized in this -respect to such an extent that, not only is there -practically nothing left for us to learn in the way -of being luxurious, but I am not sure that we -are not disposed to convince the rest of the civilized -world that a free-born American, when -fully developed, can be the most luxurious individual -on earth.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<p>Barbara looked a little grave at this. “Everything -used to be so ugly and unattractive a little -while ago that I suppose our heads have been -turned,” she answered. “After this I shall make -a rule, when we give a dinner-party, to keep one-half -of my table ornaments in the safe as a rebuke -to my vanity. Only if I am to show so -much of the tablecloth, I shall have to buy some -with handsome patterns. Don’t you see?”</p> - -<p>Perhaps this suggestion that our heads have -been turned for the time being by our national -prosperity, and that they will become straight -again in due course of time, is the most sensible -view to take of the situation. There can be no -doubt that among well-to-do people, who would -object to be classed in “the smart set,” as the reporters -of social gossip odiously characterize -those prominent in fashionable society in our -large cities, the changes in the last thirty years -connected with every-day living, as well as with -entertaining, have all been in the direction of -cosmopolitan usage. It is now only a very old-fashioned -or a very blatant person who objects to -the use of evening dress at the dinner-table, or -the theatre, as inconsistent with true patriotism. -The dinner-hour has steadily progressed from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -twelve o’clock noon until it has halted at seven -<i lang="la">post</i> meridian, as the ordinary hour for the most -formal meal of the day, with further postponement -to half-past seven or even eight among the -fashionable for the sake of company. The frying-pan -and the tea-pot have ceased to reign supreme -as the patron saints of female nutrition, -and the beefsteak, the egg, both cooked and raw, -milk and other flesh-and-blood-producing food -are abundantly supplied to the rising generation -of both sexes by the provident parent of to-day. -The price of beef in our large cities has steadily -advanced in price until its use as an article of -diet is a serious monster to encounter in the -monthly bills, but the husband and father who -is seeking to live wisely, seems not to be deterred -from providing it abundantly.</p> - -<p>From this it is evident that if we are unduly -exuberant in the pursuit of creature comforts, it -is not solely in the line of purely ornamental luxuries. -If we continue to try our nervous systems -by undue exertion, they are at least better fitted -to stand the strain, by virtue of plenty of nutritious -food, even though dinner-parties tempt us -now and then to over-indulgence, or bore us by -their elaborateness. Yet it remains to be seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -whether the income of the American husband -and father will be able to stand the steady drain -occasioned by the liberal table he provides, and -it may be that we have some lessons in thrift on -this score still in store for us. There is this consolation, -that if our heads have been turned in -this respect also, and we are supplying more food -for our human furnaces than they need, the force -of any reaction will not fall on us, but on the -market-men, who are such a privileged class that -our candidates for public office commonly provide -a rally for their special edification just before -election-day, and whose white smock-frocks -are commonly a cloak for fat though greasy -purses. Yet Providence seems to smile on the -market-man in that it has given him the telephone, -through which the modern mistress can -order her dinner, or command chops or birds, -when unexpected guests are foreshadowed. Owing -to the multiplicity of the demands upon the -time of both men and women, the custom of -going to market in person has largely fallen into -decay. The butcher and grocer send assistants -to the house for orders, and the daily personal -encounter with the smug man in white, which -used to be as inevitable as the dinner, has now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -mainly been relegated to the blushing bride of -from one week to two years’ standing, and the -people who pay cash for everything. Very likely -we are assessed for the privilege of not being -obliged to nose our turkeys and see our chops -weighed in advance, and it is difficult to answer -the strictures of those who sigh for what they -call the good old times, when it was every man’s -duty, before he went to his office, to look over -his butcher’s entire stock and select the fattest -and juiciest edibles for the consumption of himself -and family. As for paying cash for everything, -my wife Barbara says that, unless people -are obliged to be extremely economical, no woman -in this age of nervous prostration ought to -run the risk of bringing on that dire malady by -any such imprudence, and that to save five dollars -a month on a butcher’s bill, and pay twenty-five -to a physician for ruined nerves, is false political -economy.</p> - -<p>“I agree with you,” she added, “that we -Americans live extravagantly in the matter of -daily food—especially meat—as compared with -the general run of people in other countries; but -far more serious than our appetites and liberal -habits, in my opinion, is the horrible waste which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -goes on in our kitchens, due to the fact that our -cooks are totally ignorant of the art of making the -most of things. Abroad, particularly on the Continent, -they understand how to utilize every scrap, -so that many a comfortable meal is provided from -what our servants habitually cast into the swill-tub. -Here there is perpetual waste—waste—waste, -and no one seems to understand how to prevent -it. There you have one never-failing reason -for the size of our butchers’ and grocers’ bills.”</p> - -<p>I assume that my wife, who is an intelligent -person, must be correct in this accusation of -general wastefulness which she makes against the -American kitchen. If so, here we are confronted -again with the question of domestic service from -another point of view. How long can we afford -to throw our substance into the swill-tub? If our -emigrant cooks do not understand the art of utilizing -scraps and remnants, are we to continue to -enrich our butchers without let or hindrance? It -would seem that if the American housewife does -not take this matter in hand promptly, the cruel -laws of political economy will soon convince her -by grisly experience that neither poetry nor philanthropy -can flourish in a land where there is -perpetual waste below stairs.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>Education.</i></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-o.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">On occasions of oratory in this -country, nothing will arouse an -audience more quickly than an -allusion to our public school system, -and any speaker who sees -fit to apostrophize it is certain to be fervidly -applauded. Moreover, in private conversation, -whether with our countrymen or with foreigners, -every citizen is prone to indulge in the statement, -commonly uttered with some degree of -emotion, that our public schools are the great -bulwarks of progressive democracy. Why, then, -is the American parent, as soon as he becomes -well-to-do, apt to send his children elsewhere?</p> - -<p>I was walking down town with a friend the -other day, and he asked me casually where I sent -my boys to school. When I told him that they -attended a public school he said, promptly, “Good -enough. I like to see a man do it. It’s the right -thing.” I acquiesced modestly; then, as I knew -that he had a boy of his own, I asked him the -same question.</p> - -<p>“My son,” he replied slowly, “goes to Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -Bingham’s”—indicating a private school for -boys in the neighborhood. “He is a little delicate—that -is, he had measles last summer, and -has never quite recovered his strength. I had almost -made up my mind to send him to a public -school, so that he might mix with all kinds of -boys, but his mother seemed to think that the -chances of his catching scarlet fever or diphtheria -would be greater, and she has an idea that he -would make undesirable acquaintances and learn -things which he shouldn’t. So, on the whole, -we decided to send him to Bingham’s. But I -agree that you are right.”</p> - -<p>There are many men in the community who, -like my friend, believe thoroughly that every one -would do well to send his boys to a public school—that -is, every one but themselves. When it -comes to the case of their own flesh and blood -they hesitate, and in nine instances out of ten, on -some plea or other, turn their backs on the principles -they profess. This is especially true in our -cities, and it has been more or less true ever since -the Declaration of Independence; and as a proof -of the flourishing condition of the tendency at -present, it is necessary merely to instance the -numerous private schools all over the country.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -The pupils at these private schools are the children -of our people of means and social prominence, -the people who ought to be the most patriotic -citizens of the Republic.</p> - -<p>I frankly state that I, for one, would not send -my boys to a public school unless I believed the -school to be a good one. Whatever other motives -may influence parents, there is no doubt -that many are finally deterred from sending their -boys to a public school by the conviction that the -education offered to their sons in return for taxes -is inferior to what can be obtained by private contract. -Though a father may be desirous to have -his boys understand early the theory of democratic -equality, he may well hesitate to let them -remain comparatively ignorant in order to impress -upon them this doctrine. In this age, when -so much stress is laid on the importance of giving -one’s children the best education possible, it seems -too large a price to pay. Why, after all, should -a citizen send his boys to a school provided by -the State, if better schools exist in the neighborhood -which he can afford to have them attend?</p> - -<p>This conviction on the part of parents is certainly -justified in many sections of the country, -and when justifiable, disarms the critic who is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -prepared to take a father to task for sending his -children to a private school. Also, it is the only -argument which the well-to-do aristocrat can successfully -protect himself behind. It is a full suit -of armor in itself, but it is all he has. Every other -excuse which he can give is flimsy as tissue-paper, -and exposes him utterly. Therefore, if the State -is desirous to educate the sons of its leading citizens, -it ought to make sure that the public schools -are second to none in the land. If it does not, it -has only itself to blame if they are educated apart -from the sons of the masses of the population. -Nor is it an answer to quote the Fourth of July -orator, that our public schools are second to none -in the world; for one has only to investigate to -be convinced that, both as regards the methods -of teaching and as regards ventilation, many of -them all over the country are signally inferior to -the school as it should be, and the school, both -public and private, as it is in certain localities. -So long as school boards and committees, from -the Atlantic to the Pacific, are composed mainly -of political aspirants without experience in educational -matters, and who seek to serve as a first or -second step toward the White House, our public -schools are likely to remain only pretty good. So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -long as people with axes to grind, or, more plainly -speaking, text-books to circulate, are chosen to -office, our public schools are not likely to improve. -So long—and here is the most serious -factor of all—so long as the well-to-do American -father and mother continue to be sublimely indifferent -to the condition of the public schools, -the public schools will never be so good as they -ought to be.</p> - -<p>It must certainly be a source of constant discouragement -to the earnest-minded people in this -country, who are interested in education, and are -at the same time believers in our professed national -hostility to class distinctions, that the well-to-do -American parent so calmly turns his back -on the public schools, and regards them very -much from the lofty standpoint from which certain -persons are wont to regard religion—as an -excellent thing for the masses, but superfluous for -themselves. Of course, if we are going, in this respect -also, to model ourselves on and imitate the -older civilizations, there is nothing to be said. If -the public schools are to be merely a semi-charitable -institution for children whose parents cannot -afford to separate them from the common -herd, the discussion ceases. But what becomes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -then, of our cherished and Fourth of July sanctified -theories of equality and common school -education? And what do we mean when we prate -of a common humanity, and no upper class?</p> - -<p>It is in the city or town, where the public -school is equal or superior to the private school, -that the real test comes. Yet in these places well-to-do -parents seem almost as indifferent as when -they have the righteous defence that their children -would be imperfectly educated, or breathe -foul air, were they to be sent to a public school. -They take no interest, and they fairly bristle -with polite and ingenious excuses for evading -compliance with the institutions of their country. -This is true, probably, of three-fifths of those -parents, who can afford, if necessary, to pay for -private instruction. And having once made the -decision that, for some reason, a public school -education is not desirable for their children, they -feel absolved from further responsibility and -practically wash their hands of the matter. It is -notorious that a very large proportion of the -children of the leading bankers, merchants, professional -men, and other influential citizens, who -reside in the so-called court end of our large -cities, do not attend the public schools, and it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -equally notorious that the existence of a well-conducted -and satisfactory school in the district -affects the attendance comparatively little. If -only this element of the population, which is -now so indifferent, would interest itself actively, -what a vast improvement could be effected in -our public school system! If the parents in the -community, whose standards of life are the highest, -and whose ideas are the most enlightened, -would as a class co-operate in the advancement -of common education, the charge that our public -schools produce on the whole second-rate acquirements, -and second-rate morals and manners, -would soon be refuted, and the cause of popular -education would cease to be handicapped, as it is -at present, by the coolness of the well-to-do class. -If the public schools, in those sections of our -cities where our most intelligent and influential -citizens have their homes, are unsatisfactory, -they could speedily be made as good as any private -school, were the same interest manifested -by the tax-payers as is shown when an undesirable -pavement is laid, or a company threatens to -provide rapid transit before their doors. Unfortunately, -that same spirit of aloofness, which has -in the past operated largely to exclude this element<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -in the nation from participation in the affairs -of popular government, seems to be at the -bottom of this matter. Certainly much progress -has been made in the last twenty years in remedying -the political evil, and the public good appears -to demand a change of front from the same -class of people on the subject of common education, -unless we are prepared to advocate the existence -and growth of a favored, special class, out -of touch with, and at heart disdainful of, the -average citizen.</p> - -<p>The most serious enemies of the public schools -among well-to-do people appear to be women. -Many a man, alive to the importance of educating -his sons in conformity with the spirit of our -Constitution, would like to send his boys to a -public school, but is deterred by his wife. A -mother accustomed to the refinements of modern -civilization is apt to shrink from sending her -fleckless darling to consort, and possibly become -the boon companion or bosom friend, of a street -waif.</p> - -<p>She urges the danger of contamination, both -physical and moral, and is only too glad to discover -an excuse for refusing to yield. “Would -you like to have your precious boy sit side by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -side with a little negro?” I was asked one day, -in horrified accents, by a well-to-do American -mother; and I have heard many fears expressed -by others that their offspring would learn vice, -or contract disease, through daily association -with the children of the mass. It is not unjust to -state that the average well-to-do mother is gratified -when the public school, to which her sons -would otherwise be sent, is so unsatisfactory that -their father’s patriotism is overborne by other -considerations. All theories of government or humanity -are lost sight of in her desire to shelter -her boys, and the simplest way to her seems to -be to set them apart from the rest of creation, instead -of taking pains to make sure that they are -suitably taught and protected side by side with -the other children of the community.</p> - -<p>Excellent as many of our private schools are, -it is doubtful if either the morals are better, or -the liability to disease is less, among the children -who attend them than at a public school of the -best class. To begin with, the private schools in -our cities are eagerly patronized by that not inconsiderable -class of parents who hope or imagine -that the social position of their children is to -be established by association with the children of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -influential people. Falsehood, meanness, and unworthy -ambitions are quite as dangerous to character, -when the little man who suggests them has -no patches on his breeches, as when he has, and -unfortunately there are no outward signs on the -moral nature, like holes in trousers, to serve as -danger signals to our darlings. Then again, those -of us who occupy comfortable houses in desirable -localities, will generally find on investigation -that the average of the class of children which attend -the public school in such a district is much -superior to what paternal or maternal fancy has -painted. In such a district the children of the -ignorant emigrant class are not to be found in -large numbers. The pupils consist mainly of the -rank and file of the native American population, -whose tendencies and capacities for good have -always been, and continue to be, the basis of our -strength as a people. There is no need that a -mother with delicate sensibilities should send her -son into the slums in order to obtain for him a -common school education; she has merely to consent -that he take his chances with the rest of the -children of the district in which he lives, and -bend her own energies to make the standards of -that school as high as possible. In that way she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -will best help to raise the tone of the community -as a whole, and best aid to obliterate those -class distinctions which, in spite of Fourth of -July negations, are beginning to expose us to the -charge of insincerity.</p> - -<p>When a boy has reached the age of eleven or -twelve, another consideration presents itself -which is a source of serious perplexity to parents. -Shall he be educated at home—that is, attend -school in his own city or town—or be sent -to one of the boarding-schools or academies -which are ready to open their doors to him and -fit him for college? Here again we are met by -the suggestion that the boarding-school of this -type is not a native growth, but an exotic. England -has supplied us with a precedent. The great -boarding-schools, Rugby, Eton, and Harrow, -are the resort of the gentlemen of England. -Though termed public schools, they are class -schools, reserved and intended for the education -of only the highly respectable. The sons of the -butcher, the baker, and candlestick-maker are not -formally barred, but they are tacitly excluded. -The pupils are the sons of the upper and well-to-do -middle classes. A few boarding-schools for -boys have been in existence here for many years,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -but in the last twenty there has been a notable -increase in their number and importance. These, -too, are essentially class schools, for though ostensibly -open to everybody, the charges for tuition -and living are beyond the means of parents -with a small income. Most of them are schools -of a religious denomination, though commonly -a belief in the creed for which the institution -stands is not made a formal requisite for admission. -The most successful profess the Episcopalian -faith, and in other essential respects are -modelled deliberately on the English public -schools.</p> - -<p>The strongest argument for sending a boy to -one of these schools is the fresh-air plea. Undeniably, -the growing boy in a large city is at a disadvantage. -He can rarely, if ever, obtain opportunities -for healthful exercise and recreation -equal to those afforded by a well-conducted -boarding-school. He is likely to become a little -man too early, or else to sit in the house because -there is nowhere to play. At a boarding-school -he will, under firm but gentle discipline, keep -regular hours, eat simple food, and between study -times be stimulated to cultivate athletic or other -outdoor pursuits. It is not strange that parents<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -should be attracted by the comparison, and decide -that, on the whole, their boys will fare better -away from home. Obviously the aristocratic -mother will point out to her husband that his -predilection for the public school system is answered -by the fact that the State does not supply -schools away from the city, where abundant fresh -air and a famous foot-ball field are appurtenant -to the institution. Tom Brown at Rugby recurs -to them both, and they conclude that what has -been good enough for generations of English -boys will be best for their own son and heir.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, have we Americans ever -quite reconciled ourselves to, and sympathized -with, the traditional attitude of English parents -toward their sons as portrayed in veracious fiction? -The day of parting comes; the mother, -red-eyed from secret weeping, tries not to break -down; the blubbering sisters throw their arms -around the neck of the hero of the hour, and slip -pen-wipers of their own precious making into -his pockets; the father, abnormally stern to hide -his emotion, says, bluffly, “Good-by, Tom; it’s -time to be off, and we’ll see you again at Christmas.” -And out goes Tom, a tender fledgeling, -into the great world of the public school, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -that is the last of home. His holidays arrive, but -there is no more weeping. He is practically out -of his parents’ lives, and the sweet influence of -a good mother is exercised only through fairly -regular correspondence. And Tom is said to be -getting manly, and that the nonsense has nearly -been knocked out of him. He has been bullied -and has learned to bully; he has been a fag and -is now a cock. Perhaps he is first scholar, if not -a hero of the cricket or foot-ball field. Then off -he goes to college, half a stranger to those who -love him best.</p> - -<p>This is fine and manly perhaps, in the Anglo-Saxon -sense, but does it not seem just a little -brutal? Are we well-to-do Americans prepared -to give up to others, however exemplary, the conduct -of our children’s lives? Granting that the -American private boarding-school is a delightful -institution, where bullying and fags and cocks are -not known, can it ever take the place of home, or -supply the stimulus to individual life which is -exercised by wise parental love and precept? Of -course, it is easier, in a certain sense, to send one’s -boy to a select boarding-school, where the conditions -are known to be highly satisfactory. It -shifts the responsibility on to other shoulders,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -and yet leaves one who is not sensitive, in the -pleasing frame of mind that the very best thing -has been done for the young idea. In our busy -American life—more feverish than that of our -English kinsfolk whose institution we have copied—many -doubtless are induced to seek this solution -of a perplexing problem by the consciousness -of their own lack of efficiency, and their own lack -of leisure to provide a continuous home influence -superior or equal to what can be supplied by headmasters -and their assistants, who are both churchmen -and athletes. Many, too, especially fathers, -are firm believers in that other English doctrine, -that most boys need to have the nonsense knocked -out of them, and that the best means of accomplishing -this result is to cut them loose from their -mothers’ apron-strings.</p> - -<p>It is to be borne in mind in this connection -that the great English public schools are a national -cult. That is, everybody above a certain -class sends his sons to one of them. On the other -hand, the private boarding-schools on this side -of the water, fashioned after them, have thus far -attracted the patronage of a very small element -of the population. It is their misfortune, rather -than their fault, that they are chiefly the resort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -of the sons of rich or fashionable people, and -consequently are the most conspicuously class -schools in the country. Doubtless the earnest -men who conduct most of them regret that this -is so, but it is one of the factors of the case which -the American parent with sons must face at present. -It may be that this is to be the type of -school which is to become predominant here, and -that, as in England, the nation will recognize it -as a national force, even though here, as there, -only the sons of the upper classes enjoy its advantages. -That will depend partly on the extent -to which we shall decide, as a society, to promote -further class education. At present these -schools are essentially private institutions. They -are small; they do not, like our American colleges, -offer scholarships, and thus invite the attendance -of ambitious students without means. -Moreover, they are almost universally conducted -on a sectarian basis, or with a sectarian leaning, -which is apt to proselytize, at least indirectly.</p> - -<p>While those in charge of them indisputably -strive to inculcate every virtue, the well-to-do -American father must remember that his sons -will associate intimately there with many boys -whose parents belong to that frivolous class which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -is to-day chiefly absorbed in beautiful establishments, -elaborate cookery, and the wholly material -vanities of life, and are out of sympathy with, -or are indifferent to, the earnest temper and views -of that already large and intelligent portion of -the community, which views with horror the development -among us of an aristocracy of wealth, -which apes and is striving to outdo the heartless -inanities of the Old World. He must remember -that a taste for luxury and sensuous, material -aims, even though they be held in check by -youthful devotion to the rites of the church, will -prove no less disastrous, in the long run, to manhood -and patriotism, than the lack of fresh air -or a famous foot-ball field.</p> - -<p>If, however, the American father chooses to -keep his sons at home, he is bound to do all he -can to overcome the physical disadvantages of -city life. Fresh air and suitable exercise can be -obtained in the suburbs of most cities by a little -energy and co-operation on the part of parents. -As an instance, in one or two of our leading cities, -clubs of twelve to fifteen boys are sent out three -or four afternoons a week under the charge of an -older youth—usually a college or other student—who, -without interfering with their liberty, supervises<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -their sports, and sees that they are well -occupied. On days when the weather is unsuitable -for any kind of game, he will take them to museums, -manufactories, or other places of interest in -the vicinity. In this way some of the watchfulness -and discipline which are constantly operative -at a boarding-school, are exercised without -injury to home ties. There is no doubt that, unless -parents are vigilant and interest themselves -unremittingly in providing necessary physical -advantages, the boys in a crowded city are likely -to be less healthy and vigorous in body, and perhaps -in mind, than those educated at a first-class -boarding-school. It may be, as our cities increase -in size, and suburbs become more difficult of access, -that the boarding-school will become more -generally popular; but there is reason to believe -that, before it is recognized as a national institution, -sectarian religion will have ceased to control -it, and it will be less imitative of England in its -tone and social attitude. Until then, at least, many -a parent will prefer to keep his boys at home.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>Education.</i></h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-s-2.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">“Supposing you had four daughters, -like Mr. Perkins, what would -you do with them, educationally -speaking?” I said to my wife Barbara, -by way of turning my attention to the -other sex.</p> - -<p>“You mean what would they do with me? -They would drive me into my grave, I think,” -she answered. “Woman’s horizon has become -so enlarged that no mother can tell what her -next daughter may not wish to do. I understand, -though, that you are referring simply to schools. -To begin with, I take for granted you will agree -that American parents, who insist on sending -their boys to a public school, very often hesitate -or decline point-blank to send their girls.”</p> - -<p>“Precisely. And we are forthwith confronted -by the question whether they are justified in so -doing.”</p> - -<p>Barbara looked meditative for a moment, then -she said: “I am quite aware there is no logical -reason why girls should not be treated in the same -way, and yet as a matter of fact I am not at all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -sure, patriotism and logic to the contrary notwithstanding, -I should send a daughter to a public -school unless I were convinced, from personal -examination, that she would have neither a vulgar -teacher nor vulgar associates. Manners mean -so much to a woman, and by manners I refer -chiefly to those nice perceptions of everything -which stamp a lady, and which you can no more -describe than you can describe the perfume of -the violet. The objection to the public schools -for a girl is that the unwritten constitution of this -country declared years ago that every woman was -a born lady, and that manners and nice perceptions -were in the national blood, and required no -cultivation for their production. Latterly, a good -many people interested in educational matters -have discovered the fallacy of this point of view; -so that when the name of a woman to act as the -head of a college or other first-class institution -for girls is brought forward to-day, the first question -asked is, ‘Is she a lady?’ Ten years ago -mental acquirements would have been regarded -as sufficient, and the questioner silenced with the -severe answer that every American woman is a -lady. The public school authorities are still harping -too much on the original fallacy, or rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -the new point of view has not spread sufficiently -to cause the average American school-teacher to -suspect that her manners might be improved and -her sensibilities refined. There, that sounds like -treason to the principles of democracy, yet you -know I am at heart a patriot.”</p> - -<p>“And yet to bring up boys on a common basis -and separate the girls by class education seems -like a contradiction of terms,” I said.</p> - -<p>“I am confident—at least if we as a nation -really do believe in obliterating class distinctions—that -it won’t be long before those who control -the public schools recognize more universally the -value of manners, and of the other traits which -distinguish the woman of breeding from the woman -who has none,” said Barbara. “When that -time comes the well-to-do American mother will -have no more reason for not sending her daughters -to a public school than her sons. As it is, -they should send them oftener than they do.”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” continued Barbara, presently, -“the best private schools are in the East, and a -very much larger percentage, both of girls and -boys, attends the public schools in the West than -in the East. Indeed, I am inclined to think that -comparatively few people west of Chicago do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -send their children to public schools. But, on the -other hand, there are boarding-schools for girls -all over the East which are mainly supported by -girls from the West, whose mothers wish to have -them finished. They go to the public schools at -home until they are thirteen or fourteen, and then -are packed off to school for three or four years in -order to teach them how to move, and wear their -hair, and spell, and control their voices—for the -proper modulation of the voice has at last been -recognized as a necessary attribute of the well-bred -American woman. As for the Eastern girl -who is not sent to the public school, she usually -attends a private day-school in her native city, the -resources of which are supplemented by special -instruction of various kinds, in order to produce -the same finished specimen. But it isn’t the finished -specimen who is really interesting from the -educational point of view to-day; that is, the conventional, -cosmopolitan, finished specimen such -as is turned out with deportment and accomplishments -from the hands of the English governess, -the French Mother Superior, or the American -private school-mistress.</p> - -<p>“After making due allowance for the national -point of view, I don’t see very much difference<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -in principle between the means adopted to finish -the young lady of society here and elsewhere. -There are thousands of daughters of well-to-do -mothers in this country who are brought up on -the old aristocratic theory that a woman should -study moderately hard until she is eighteen, then -look as pretty as she can, and devote herself until -she is married to having what is called on this -side of the Atlantic a good time. To be sure, in -France the good time does not come until after -marriage, and there are other differences, but the -well-bred lady of social graces is the well-bred -lady, whether it be in London, Paris, Vienna, or -New York, and a ball-room in one capital is essentially -the same as in all the others, unless it -be that over here the very young people are allowed -to crowd out everybody else. There are -thousands of mothers who are content that this -should be the limit of their daughter’s experience, -a reasonably good education and perfect -manners, four years of whirl, and then a husband, -or no husband and a conservative afternoon tea-drinking -spinsterhood—and they are thankful -on the whole when their girls put their necks -meekly beneath the yoke of convention and do -as past generations of women all over the civilized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -world have done. For the reign of the unconventional -society young woman is over. She -shocks now her own countrywoman even more -than foreigners; and though, like the buffalo, she -is still extant, she is disappearing even more rapidly -than that illustrious quadruped.”</p> - -<p>“Are you not wandering slightly from the -topic?” I ventured to inquire.</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” said Barbara. “I was stating -merely that the Old-World, New-World young -lady, with all her originality and piquancy, however -charming, and however delightfully inevitable -she may be, is not interesting from the educational -point of view. Or rather I will put it in -this way: the thoughtful, well-to-do American -mother is wondering hard whether she has a -right to be content with the ancient programme -for her daughters, and is watching with eager interest -the experiments which some of her neighbors -are trying with theirs. We cannot claim as -an exclusive national invention collegiate education -for women, and there’s no doubt that my -sex in England is no less completely on the war-path -than the female world here; but is there a -question that the peculiar qualities of American -womanhood are largely responsible for the awakening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -wherever it has taken place? My dear, you -asked me just now what a man like Mr. Perkins -should do with his four daughters. Probably -Mrs. Perkins is trying to make up her mind -whether she ought to send them to college. Very -likely she is arguing with Mr. Perkins as to -whether, all things considered, it wouldn’t be -advisable to have one or two of them study a -profession, or learn to do something bread-winning, -so that in case he, poor man—for he <em>does</em> -look overworked—should not succeed in leaving -them the five thousand dollars a year he -hopes, they need not swell the category of the -decayed gentlewoman of the day. I dare say they -discuss the subject assiduously, in spite of the -views Mr. Perkins has expressed to you regarding -the sacredness of unemployed feminine gentility; -for it costs so much to live that he can’t -lay up a great deal, and there are certainly strong -arguments in favor of giving such girls the opportunity -to make the most of themselves, or -at least to look at life from the self-supporting -point of view. At first, of course, the students -at the colleges for women were chiefly girls who -hoped to utilize, as workers in various lines, the -higher knowledge they acquired there; but every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -year sees more and more girls, who expect to be -married sooner or later—the daughters of lawyers, -physicians, merchants—apply for admission, -on the theory that what is requisite for a -man is none too good for them; and it is the example -of these girls which is agitating the serenity -of so many mothers, and suggesting to so -many daughters the idea of doing likewise. Even -the ranks of the most fashionable are being invaded, -though undeniably it is still the fashion -to stay at home, and I am inclined to think that -it is only the lack of the seal of fashion that restrains -many conservative people, like the Perkinses, -from educating their daughters as though -they probably would not be married, instead of -as though they were almost certain to be.”</p> - -<p>“You may remember that Perkins assured me -not long ago, that marriage did not run in the -Perkins female line,” said I.</p> - -<p>“All the more reason, then, that his girls should -be encouraged to equip themselves thoroughly in -some direction or other, instead of waiting disconsolately -to be chosen in marriage, keeping up -their courage as the years slip away, with a few -cold drops of Associated Charity. Of course the -majority of us will continue to be wives and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -mothers—there is nothing equal to that when -it is a success—but will not marriage become -still more desirable if the choicest girls are educated -to be the intellectual companions of men, -and taught to familiarize themselves with the real -conditions of life, instead of being limited to the -rose garden of a harem, over the hedges of which -they are expected only to peep at the busy world—the -world of men, the world of action and toil -and struggle and sin—the world into which -their sons are graduated when cut loose from the -maternal apron-strings? We intend to learn -what to teach our sons, so that we may no longer -be silenced with the plea that women do not -know, and be put off with a secretive conjugal -smile. And as for the girls who do not marry, -the world is open to them—the world of art and -song and charity and healing and brave endeavor -in a hundred fields. Become just like men? -Never. If there is one thing which the educated -woman of the present is seeking to preserve and -foster, it is the subtle delicacy of nature, it is the -engaging charm of womanhood which distinguishes -us from men. Who are the pupils at the -colleges for women to-day? The dowdy, sexless, -unattractive, masculine-minded beings who have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -served to typify for nine men out of ten the -crowning joke of the age—the emancipation of -women? No; but lovely, graceful, sympathetic, -earnest, pure-minded girls in the flower of attractive -maidenhood. And that is why the well-to-do -American mother is asking herself whether -she would be doing the best thing for her daughter -if she were to encourage her to become merely -a New-World, Old-World young lady of the ancient -order of things. For centuries the women -of civilization have worshipped chastity, suffering -resignation and elegance as the ideals of femininity; -now we mean to be intelligent besides, or -at least as nearly so as possible.”</p> - -<p>“In truth a philippic, Barbara,” I said. “It -would seem as though Mrs. Grundy would not -be able to hold out much longer. Will you tell -me, by the way, what you women intend to do -after you are fully emancipated?”</p> - -<p>“One thing at a time,” she answered. “We -have been talking of education, and I have simply -been suggesting that no conscientious mother can -afford to ignore or pass by with scorn the claims -of higher education for girls—experimental and -faulty as many of the present methods to attain -it doubtless are. As to what women are going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -do when our preliminary perplexities are solved -and our sails are set before a favorable wind, I -have my ideas on that score also, and some day -I will discuss them with you. But just now I -should like you to answer <em>me</em> a question. What -are the best occupations for sons to follow when -they have left school or college?”</p> - -<p>Pertinent and interesting as was this inquiry -of Barbara’s, I felt the necessity of drawing a -long breath before I answered it.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>Occupation.</i></h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-t-1.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">The American young man, in the -selection of a vocation, is practically -cut off from two callings -which are dear to his contemporaries -in other civilized countries—the -Army and the Navy. The possibility of war, -with all its horrors and its opportunities for personal -renown, is always looming up before the -English, French, German, or Russian youth, -who is well content to live a life of gilded martial -inactivity in the hope of sooner or later winning -the cross for conspicuous service, if he escapes a -soldier’s grave. We have endured one war, and -we profoundly hope never to undergo another. -Those of us who are ethically opposed to the -slaughter of thousands of human beings in a -single day by cannon, feel that we have geography -on our side. Even the bloodthirsty are forced -to acknowledge that the prospects here for a genuine -contest of any kind are not favorable. Consequently, -the ardor of the son and heir, who -would like to be a great soldier or a sea captain, -is very apt to be cooled by the representation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -that his days would be spent in watching Indians -or cattle thieves on the Western plains, or in -cruising uneventfully in the Mediterranean or -the Gulf of Mexico. At all events our standing, -or, more accurately speaking, sitting Army, and -our Navy are so small, that the demand for generals -and captains is very limited. Therefore, -though we commend to our sons the prowess of -Cæsar, Napoleon, Nelson, Von Moltke, and -Grant, we are able to demonstrate to them, -even without recourse to modern ethical arguments, -that the opportunities for distinction -on this side of the water are likely to be very -meagre.</p> - -<p>Also, we Americans, unlike English parents, -hesitate to hold out as offerings to the Church a -younger son in every large family. We have no -national Church; moreover, the calling of a clergyman -in this country lacks the social picturesqueness -which goes far, or did go far, to reconcile -the British younger son to accept the living -which fell to his lot through family influence. -Then again, would the American mother, like -the conventional mother of the older civilizations, -as represented in biography and fiction, -if asked which of all vocations she would prefer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -to have her son adopt, reply promptly and fervidly, -“the ministry?”</p> - -<p>I put this question to my wife by way of obtaining -an answer. She reflected a moment, then -she said, “If one of my boys really felt called -to be a clergyman, I should be a very happy -woman; but I wouldn’t on any account have -one of them enter the ministry unless he did.” -This reply seems to me to express not merely -the attitude of the American mother, but also -the point of view from which the American -young man of to-day is apt to look at the question. -He no longer regards the ministry as a profession -which he is free to prefer, merely because -he needs to earn his daily bread; and he understands, -when he becomes a clergyman, that lukewarm -or merely conventional service will be utterly -worthless in a community which is thirsty -for inspirational suggestion, but which is soul-sick -of cant and the perfervid reiteration of outworn -delusions. The consciousness that he has -no closer insight into the mysteries of the universe -than his fellow-men, and the fear that he -may be able to solace their doubts only by skilful -concealment of his own, is tending, here and -all over the civilized world, to deter many a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -young man from embracing that profession, -which once seemed to offer a safe and legitimate -niche for any pious youth who was uncertain -what he wished to do for a living. Happy he who -feels so closely in touch with the infinite that he -is certain of his mission to his brother-man! But -is any one more out of place than the priest who -seems to know no more than we do of what we -desire to know most? We demand that a poet -should be heaven-born; why should we not require -equivalent evidence of fitness from our -spiritual advisers?</p> - -<p>And yet, on the other hand, when the conviction -of fitness or mission exists, what calling -is there which offers to-day more opportunities -for usefulness than the ministry? The growing -tendency of the Church is toward wider issues -and a broader scope. Clergymen are now encouraged -and expected to aid in the solution of problems -of living no less than those of dying, and to -lead in the discussion of matters regarding which -they could not have ventured to express opinions -fifty years ago without exposing themselves -to the charge of being meddlesome or unclerical. -The whole field of practical charity, economics, -hygiene, and the relations of human beings to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -each other on this earth, are fast becoming -the legitimate domain of the Church, and -the general interest in this new phase of usefulness -is serving to convince many of the -clergy themselves that the existence of so -many creeds, differing but slightly and unimportantly -from one another, is a waste of vital -force and machinery. In this age of trusts, a -trust of all religious denominations for the -common good of humanity would be a monopoly -which could pay large dividends without -fear of hostile legislation.</p> - -<p>In this matter of the choice of a vocation, the -case of the ambitious, promising young man is -the one which commends itself most to our sympathies; -and next to it stands that of the general -utility man—the youth who has no definite -tastes or talents, and who selects his life occupation -from considerations other than a consciousness -of fitness or of natural inclination. -There are here, as elsewhere, born merchants, -lawyers, doctors, clergymen, architects, engineers, -inventors, and poets, who promptly follow their -natural bents without suggestion and in the teeth -of difficulties. But the promising young man in -search of a brilliant career, and the general utility<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -man, are perhaps the best exponents of a nation’s -temper and inclination.</p> - -<p>In every civilization many promising youths -and the general run of utility men are apt to turn -to business, for trade seems to offer the largest -return in the way of money with the least amount -of special knowledge. In this new country of ours -the number of young men who have selected a -business career during the last fifty years, from -personal inclination, has been very much greater -than elsewhere, and the tone and temper of the -community has swept the general utility man -into mere money making almost as a matter of -course. The reasons for this up to this time have -been obvious: The resources and industries of a -vast and comparatively sparsely settled continent -have been developed in the last fifty years, and -the great prizes in the shape of large fortunes resulting -from the process have naturally captivated -the imagination of ambitious youth. We -have unjustly been styled a nation of shopkeepers; -but it may in all fairness be alleged that, until -the last fifteen years, we have been under the -spell of the commercial and industrial spirit, and -that the intellectual faculties of the nation have -been mainly absorbed in the introduction and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -maintenance of railroads and factories, in the raising -and marketing of grain, in the development -of real estate enterprises, and in trading in the -commodities or securities which these various -undertakings have produced.</p> - -<p>The resources of the country are by no means -exhausted; there are doubtless more mines to -open which will make their owners superbly rich; -new discoveries in the mechanical or electrical -field will afford fresh opportunities to discerning -men of means; and individual or combined capital -will continue to reap the reward of both legitimate -and over-reaching commercial acumen. -But it would seem as though the day of enormous -fortunes, for men of average brains and -luck, in this country were nearly over, and that -the great pecuniary prizes of the business world -would henceforth be gleaned only by extraordinary -or exceptional individuals. The country -is no longer sparsely settled; fierce competition -speedily cuts the abnormal profit out of new enterprises -which are not protected by a patent; -and in order to be conspicuously successful in -any branch of trade, one will have more and more -need of unusual ability and untiring application.</p> - -<p>In other words, though ours is still a new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -country, it will not be very long before the opportunities -and conditions of a business life resemble -closely those which confront young men -elsewhere. As in every civilized country, trade -in some form will necessarily engage the attention -of a large portion of the population. From -physical causes, a vast majority of the citizens -of the United States must continue to derive -their support from agriculture and the callings -which large crops of cereals, cotton, and sugar -make occasion for. Consequently business will -always furnish occupation for a vast army of -young men in every generation, and few successes -will seem more enviable than those of the -powerful and scrupulous banker, or the broad-minded -and capable railroad president. But, on -the other hand, will the well-to-do American -father and mother, eager to see their promising -sons make the most of themselves, continue to -advise them to go into business in preference to -other callings? And will the general utility man -still be encouraged to regard some form of trade -as the most promising outlook, for one who -does not know what he wishes to do, to adopt? -He who hopes to become a great banker or -illustrious railway man, must remember that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -streets of all our large cities teem with young -men whose breasts harbor similar ambitions.</p> - -<p>Doubtless, it was the expectation of our forefathers -that our American civilization would add -new occupations to the callings inherited from -the old world, which would be alluring both to -the promising young man and the youth without -predilections, and no less valuable to society and -elevating to the individual than the best of those -by which men have earned their daily bread since -civilization first was. As a matter of fact, we -Americans have added just one, that of the modern -stock-broker. To be sure, I am not including -the ranchman. It did seem at one time as -though we were going to add another in him—a -sort of gentleman shepherd. But be it that the -cattle have become too scarce or too numerous, -be it that the demon of competition has planted -his hoofs on the farthest prairie, one by one the -brave youths who went West in search of fortune, -have returned East for the last time, and -abandoned the field to the cowboys and the native -settler. The pioneers in this form of occupation -made snug fortunes, but after them came -a deluge of promising or unpromising youths -who branded every animal within a radius of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -hundreds of miles with a letter of the alphabet. -Their only living monument is the polo pony.</p> - -<p>Our single and signal contribution to the callings -of the world has been the apotheosis of the -stock-broker. For the last twenty-five years, the -well-to-do father and mother and their sons, in -our large cities, have been under the spell of a -craze for the brokerage business. The consciousness -that the refinements of modern living cannot -adequately be supplied in a large city to a -family whose income does not approximate ten -thousand dollars a year, is a cogent argument in -favor of trying to grow rich rapidly, and both -the promising young man and the general utility -man welcomed the new calling with open arms. -Impelled by the notion that here was a vocation -which required no special knowledge or attainments, -and very little capital, which was pleasant, -gentlemanly, and not unduly confining, and -which promised large returns almost in the -twinkling of an eye, hundreds and thousands -of young men became brokers—chiefly stock-brokers, -but also cotton-brokers, note-brokers, -real-estate-brokers, insurance-brokers, and -brokers in nearly everything. The field was -undoubtedly a rich one for those who first entered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -it. There was a need for the broker, and -he was speedily recognized as a valuable addition -to the machinery of trade. Many huge fortunes -were made, and we have learned to associate the -word broker with the possession of large means, -an imposing house on a fashionable street, and -diverse docked and stylish horses.</p> - -<p>Of course, the king of all brokers has been the -stock-broker, for to him was given the opportunity -to buy and sell securities on his own account, -though he held himself out to his customers -as merely a poor thing who worked for -a commission. No wonder that the young man, -just out of college, listened open-mouthed to the -tales of how many thousands of dollars a year -so and so, who had been graduated only five -years before, was making, and resolved to try his -luck with the same Aladdin’s lamp. Nor was it -strange that the sight of men scarcely out of -their teens, driving down town in fur coats, in -their own equipages, with the benison of successful -capitalists in their salutations, settled the -question of choice for the youth who was wavering -or did not know what he wished to do.</p> - -<p>It is scarcely an extreme statement that the so-called -aristocracy of our principal cities to-day is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -largely made up of men who are, or once were, -stock-brokers, or who have made their millions -by some of the forms of gambling which our -easy-going euphemism styles modern commercial -aggressiveness. Certainly, a very considerable -number of our most splendid private residences -have been built out of the proceeds of -successful ventures in the stock market, or the -wheat pit, or by some other purely speculative -operations. Many stars have shone brilliantly for -a season, and then plunged precipitately from the -zenith to the horizon; and much has been wisely -said as to the dangers of speculation; but the fact -remains that a great many vast fortunes owe their -existence to the broker’s office; fortunes which -have been salted down, as the phrase is, and now -furnish support and titillation for a leisurely, -green old age, or enable the sons and daughters -of the original maker to live in luxury.</p> - -<p>Whatever the American mother may feel as to -her son becoming a clergyman, there is no doubt -that many a mother to-day would say “God -grant that no son of mine become a stock-broker.” -I know stock-brokers—many indeed—who -are whole-souled, noble-natured men, -free from undue worldliness, and with refined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -instincts. But the stock-broker, as he exists in -the every-day life of our community, typifies -signally the gambler’s yearning to gain wealth -by short cuts, and the monomania which regards -as pitiable those who do not possess and display -the gewgaws of feverish, fashionable materialism. -There are stock-brokers in all the great capitals -of the world, but nowhere has the vocation swallowed -up the sons of the best people to the extent -that it has done here during the last thirty -years. And yet, apart from the opportunity it -affords to grow rich rapidly, what one good reason -is there why a promising young man should -decide to buy and sell stocks for a living? Indeed, -not merely decide, but select, that occupation -as the most desirable calling open to him? -Does it tend either to ennoble the nature or enrich -the mental faculties? It is one of the formal -occupations made necessary by the exigencies of -the business world, and as such is legitimate and -may be highly respectable; but surely it does -not, from the nature of the services required, -deserve to rank high; and really there would -seem to be almost as much occasion for conferring -the accolade of social distinction on a dealer -in excellent fish as on a successful stock-broker.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> - -<p>However, alas! it is easy enough to assign the -reason why the business has been so popular. It -appears that, even under the flag of our aspiring -nationality, human nature is still so weak that -the opportunity to grow rich quickly, when presented, -is apt to over-ride all noble considerations. -Foreign censors have ventured not infrequently -to declare that there was never yet a race so hungry -for money as we free-born Americans; and -not even the pious ejaculation of one of our -United States Senators, “What have we to do -with abroad?” is conclusive proof that the accusation -is not well founded. In fact: there seems -to be ample proof that we, who sneered so austerely -at the Faubourg St. Germain and the aristocracies -of the Old World, and made Fourth -of July protestations of poverty and chastity, -have fallen down and worshipped the golden calf -merely because it was made of gold. Because it -seemed to be easier to make money as stock-brokers -than in any other way, men have hastened -to become stock-brokers. To be sure it -may be answered that this is only human nature -and the way of the world. True, perhaps; except -that we started on the assumption that we were -going to improve on the rest of the world, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -that its human nature was not to be our human -nature. Would not the Faubourg St. Germain -be preferable to an aristocracy of stock-brokers?</p> - -<p>At all events, the law of supply and demand -is beginning to redeem the situation, and, if not -to restore our moral credit, at least to save the rising -generation from falling into the same slough. -The stock-broker industry has been overstocked, -and the late young capitalists in fur overcoats, -with benedictory manners, wear anxious countenances -under the stress of that Old World demon, -excessive competition. Youth can no longer -wake up in the morning and find itself the proprietor -of a rattling business justifying a steam-yacht -and a four-in-hand. The good old days -have gone forever, and there is weeping and -gnashing of teeth where of late there was joy -and much accumulation. There is not business -enough for all the promising young men who -are stock-brokers already, and the youth of promise -must turn elsewhere.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><i>Occupation.</i></h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-b.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">But though the occupation of broker -has become less tempting, the promising -youth has not ceased to look -askance at any calling which does not -seem to foreshadow a fortune in a short time. -He is only just beginning to appreciate that we -are getting down to hard pan, so to speak, and -are nearly on a level, as regards the hardships of -individual progress, with our old friends the effete -civilizations. He finds it difficult to rid himself -of the “Arabian Nights’” notion that he has -merely to clap his hands to change ten dollars -into a thousand in a single year, and to transform -his bachelor apartments into a palace beautiful, -with a wife, yacht, and horses, before he is -thirty-five. He shrinks from the idea of being -obliged to take seriously into account anything -less than a hundred-dollar bill, and of earning a -livelihood by slow yet persistent acceptance of -tens and fives. His present ruling ambition is to -be a promoter; that is, to be an organizer of -schemes, and to let others do the real work and -attend to the disgusting details. There are a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -many gentry of this kind in the field just at present. -Among them is, or rather was, Lewis Pell, -as I will call him for the occasion. I don’t know -exactly what he is doing now. But he was, until -lately, a promoter.</p> - -<p>A handsome fellow was Lewis Pell. Tall, gentlemanly, -and athletic-looking, with a gracious, -imposing presence and manner, which made his -rather commonplace conversation seem almost -wisdom. He went into a broker’s office after leaving -college, like many other promising young -men of his time, but he was clever enough either -to realize that he was a little late, or that the promoter -business offered a more promising scope -for his genius, for he soon disappeared from the -purlieus of the Stock Exchange, and the next -thing we heard of him was as the tenant of an -exceedingly elaborate set of offices on the third -floor of a most expensive modern monster building. -Shortly after I read in the financial columns -of the daily press that Mr. Lewis Pell had sold -to a syndicate of bankers the first mortgage and -the debenture bonds of the Light and Power -Traction Company, an electrical corporation organized -under the laws of the State of New Jersey. -Thirty days later I saw again that he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -sailed for Europe in order to interest London -capital in a large enterprise, the nature of which -was still withheld from the public.</p> - -<p>During the next two or three years I ran across -Pell on several occasions. He seemed always to -be living at the highest pressure, but the brilliancy -of his career had not impaired his good -manners or attractiveness. I refer to his career -as brilliant at this time because both his operations -and the consequent style of living which -he pursued, as described by him on two different -evenings when I dined with him, seemed to me in -my capacity of ordinary citizen to savor of the -marvellous, if not the supernatural. He frankly -gave me to understand that it seemed to him a -waste of time for an ambitious man to pay attention -to details, and that his business was to originate -vast undertakings, made possible only by -large combinations of corporate or private capital. -The word combination, which was frequently on -his lips, seemed to be the corner-stone of his system. -I gathered that the part which he sought to -play in the battle of life was to breathe the breath, -or the apparent breath, of existence into huge -schemes, and after having given them a quick -but comprehensive squeeze or two for his own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -pecuniary benefit, to hand them over to syndicates, -or other aggregations of capitalists, for the -benefit of whom they might concern. He confided -to me that he employed eleven typewriters; -that he had visited London seven, and Paris three -times, in the last three years, on flying trips to -accomplish brilliant deals; that though his headquarters -were in New York, scarcely a week passed -in which he was not obliged to run over to Chicago, -Boston, Washington, Denver, Duluth, or -Cincinnati, as the case might be. Without being -boastful as to his profits, he did not hesitate to -acknowledge to me that if he should do as well -in the next three years as in the last, he would -be able to retire from business with a million -or so.</p> - -<p>Apart from this confession, his personal extravagance -left no room for doubt that he must -be very rich. Champagne flowed for him as Croton -or Cochituate for most of us, and it was evident -from his language that the hiring of special -trains from time to time was a rather less serious -matter than it would be for the ordinary citizen -to take a cab. The account that he gave of three -separate entertainments he had tendered to syndicates—of -ten, twelve, and seventeen covers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -respectively, at twenty dollars a cover—fairly -made my mouth water and my eyes stick out, -so that I felt constrained to murmur, “Your -profits must certainly be very large, if you can -afford that sort of thing.”</p> - -<p>Pell smiled complacently and a little condescendingly. -“I could tell you of things which I -have done which would make that seem a bagatelle,” -he answered, with engaging mystery. -Then after a moment’s pause he said, “Do you -know, my dear fellow, that when I was graduated -I came very near going into the office of a -pious old uncle of mine who has been a commission -merchant all his life, and is as poor as Job’s -turkey in spite of it all—that is, poor as men are -rated nowadays. He offered to take me as a clerk -at one thousand dollars a year, with the promise -of a partnership before I was bald-headed in case -I did well. Supposing I had accepted his offer, -where should I be to-day? Grubbing at an office-desk -and earning barely enough for board -and lodging. I remember my dear mother took -it terribly to heart because I went into a broker’s -office instead. By the way, between ourselves, -I’m building a steam-yacht—nothing very wonderful, -but a neat, comfortable craft—and I’m<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -looking forward next summer to inviting my -pious old uncle to cruise on her just to see him -open his eyes.”</p> - -<p>That was three years ago, and to-day I have -every reason to believe that Lewis Pell is without -a dollar in the world, or rather, that every dollar -which he has belongs to his creditors. I had -heard before his failure was announced that he -was short of money, for the reason that several -enterprises with which his name was connected -had been left on his hands—neither the syndicates -nor the public would touch them—so his -suspension was scarcely a surprise. He at present, -poor fellow, is only one of an army of young -men wandering dejectedly through the streets -of New York or Chicago in these days of financial -depression, vainly seeking for something to -promote.</p> - -<p>When the promising youth and the general -utility man do get rid of the “Arabian Nights’” -notion, and recognize that signal success here, in -any form, is likely to become more and more -difficult to attain, and will be the legitimate reward -only of men of real might, of unusual abilities, -originality, or dauntless industry, some of -the callings which have fallen, as it were, into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -disrepute through their lack of gambling facilities, -are likely to loom up again socially. It may -be, however, that modern business methods and -devices have had the effect of killing for all time -that highly respectable pillar of society of fifty -years ago, the old-fashioned merchant, who -bought and sold on his own behalf, or on commission, -real cargoes of merchandise, and real -consignments of cotton, wheat, and corn. The -telegraph and the warehouse certificate have -worked such havoc that almost everything now -is bought and sold over and over again before -it is grown or manufactured, and by the time it -is on the market there is not a shred of profit in -it for anybody but the retail dealer. It remains -to be seen whether, as the speculative spirit subsides, -the merchant is going to reinstate himself -and regain his former prestige. It may already -be said that the promising youth does not regard -him with quite so much contempt as he -did.</p> - -<p>We have always professed in this country -great theoretical respect for the schoolmaster, -but we have been careful, as the nation waxed in -material prosperity, to keep his pay down and -to shove him into the social background more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -and more. The promising youth could not afford -to spend his manhood in this wise, and we -have all really been too busy making money to -think very much about those who are doing the -teaching. Have we not always heard it stated that -our schools and colleges are second to none in -the world? And if our schools, of course our -schoolmasters. Therefore why bother our heads -about them? It is indeed wonderful, considering -the little popular interest in the subject until -lately, that our schoolmasters and our college -professors are so competent as they are, and that -the profession has flourished on the whole in -spite of indifference and superiority. How can -men of the highest class be expected to devote -their lives to a profession which yields little more -than a pittance when one is thoroughly successful? -And yet the education of our children ought -to be one of our dearest concerns, and it is difficult -to see why the State is satisfied to pay the -average instructor or instructress of youth about -as much as the city laborer or a horse-car conductor -receives.</p> - -<p>There are signs that those in charge of our -large educational institutions all over the country -are beginning to recognize that ripe scholarship<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -and rare abilities as a teacher are entitled to -be well recompensed pecuniarily, and that the -breed of such men is likely to increase somewhat -in proportion to the size and number of the -prizes offered. Our college presidents and professors, -those at the head of our large schools -and seminaries, should receive such salaries as -will enable them to live adequately. By this -policy not only would our promising young men -be encouraged to pursue learning, but those in -the highest places would not be forced by poverty -to live in comparative retirement, but could -become active social figures and leaders. In any -profession or calling under present social conditions -only those in the foremost rank can hope -to earn more than a living, varying in quality -according to the degree of success and the rank -of the occupation; but it is to be hoped—and -there seems some reason to believe—that the -great rewards which come to those more able -and industrious than their fellows will henceforth, -in the process of our national evolution, -be more evenly distributed, and not confined so -conspicuously to gambling, speculative, or commercial -successes. The leaders in the great professions -of law and medicine have for some time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -past declined to serve the free-born community -without liberal compensation, and the same community, -which for half a century secretly believed -that only a business man has the right to grow -rich, has begun to recognize that there are even -other things besides litigation and health which -ought to come high. For instance, although the -trained architect still meets serious and depressing -competition from those ready-made experimenters -in design who pronounce the first <i>c</i> in -the word architect as though it were an <i>s</i>, the public -is rapidly discovering that a man cannot build -an attractive house without special knowledge.</p> - -<p>In the same class with the law, medicine, and -architecture, and seemingly offering at present a -greater scope for an ambitious young man, is engineering -in all its branches. The furnaces, mines, -manufactories, and the hydraulic, electrical, or -other plants connected with the numerous vast -mechanical business enterprises of the country -are furnishing immediate occupation for hundreds -of graduates of the scientific or polytechnic -schools at highly respectable salaries. This field -of usefulness is certain for a long time to come to -offer employment and a fair livelihood to many, -and large returns to those who outstrip their contemporaries.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -More and more is the business man, -the manufacturer, and the capitalist likely to be -dependent for the economical or successful development -and management of undertakings on -the judgment of scientific experts in his own employment -or called in to advise, and it is only -meet that the counsel given should be paid for -handsomely.</p> - -<p>Those who pursue literature or art in their -various branches in this country, and have talents -in some degree commensurate with their -ambition, are now generally able to make a comfortable -livelihood. Indeed the men and women -in the very front rank are beginning to receive -incomes which would be highly satisfactory to a -leading lawyer or physician. Of course original -work in literature or art demands special ability -and fitness, but the general utility man is beginning -to have many opportunities presented to -him in connection with what may be called the -clerical work of these professions. The great -magazines and publishing houses have an increasing -need for trained, scholarly men, for capable -critics, and discerning advisers in the field -both of letter-press and illustration. Another -calling which seems to promise great possibilities<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -both of usefulness and income to those who devote -themselves to it earnestly is the comparatively -new profession of journalism. The reporter, -with all his present horrors, is in the process -of evolution; but the journalist is sure to -remain the high-priest of democracy. His influence -is almost certain to increase materially, but -it will not increase unless he seeks to lead public -thought instead of bowing to it. The newspaper, -in order to flourish, must be a moulder of opinion, -and to accomplish this those who control its -columns must more and more be men of education, -force, and high ideals. Competition will -winnow here as elsewhere, but those who by ability -and industry win the chief places will stand -high in the community and command large pay -for their services.</p> - -<p>An aristocracy of brains—that is to say, an -aristocracy composed of individuals successful -and prominent in their several callings—seems -to be the logical sequence of our institutions under -present social and industrial conditions. The -only aristocracy which can exist in a democracy -is one of honorable success evidenced by wealth -or a handsome income, but the character of such -an aristocracy will depend on the ambitions and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -tastes of the nation. The inevitable economic law -of supply and demand governs here as elsewhere, -and will govern until such a time as society may -be reconstructed on an entirely new basis. Only -the leaders in any vocation can hope to grow rich, -but in proportion as the demands of the nation -for what is best increase will the type and characteristics -of these leaders improve. The doing -away with inherited orders of nobility and deliberate, -patented class distinctions, gives the entire -field to wealth. We boast proudly that no artificial -barriers confine individual social promotion; -but we must remember at the same time -that those old barriers meant more than the perpetuation -of perfumed ladies and idle gentlemen -from century to century. We are too apt to forget -that the aristocracies of the old world signified -in the first place a process of selection. The -kings and the nobles, the lords and the barons, -the knights who fought and the ladies for whom -they died, were the master-spirits of their days -and generations, the strong arms and the strong -brains of civilized communities. They stood for -force, the force of the individual who was more -intelligent, more capable, and mightier in soul -and body than his neighbors, and who claimed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -the prerogatives of superiority on that account. -These master-spirits, it is true, used these prerogatives -in such a manner as to crystallize society -into the classes and the masses, so hopelessly -for the latter that the gulf between them still is -wide as an ocean, notwithstanding that present -nobilities have been shorn of their power so that -they may be said to exist chiefly by sufferance. -And yet the world is still the same in that there -are men more intelligent, more capable, and -mightier in soul and body than their fellows. -The leaders of the past won their spurs by prowess -with the battle-axe and spear, by wise counsel -in affairs of state, by the sheer force of their -superior manhood. The gentleman and lady -stood for the best blood of the world, though -they so often belied it by their actions.</p> - -<p>We, who are accustomed to applaud our civilization -as the hope of the world, may well look -across the water and take suggestions from the -institutions of Great Britain, not with the idea of -imitation, but with a view to consider the forces -at work there. For nearly a century now the government, -though in form a monarchy, has been -substantially a constitutional republic, imbued -with inherited traditions and somewhat galvanized<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -by class distinctions, but nevertheless a constitutional -republic. The nobility still exists as a -sort of French roof or Eastern pagoda to give -a pleasing appearance to the social edifice. The -hereditary meaning of titles has been so largely -negatived by the introduction of new blood—the -blood of the strongest men of the period—that -they have become, what they originally -were, badges to distinguish the men most valuable -to the State. Their abolition is merely a -question of time, and many of the leaders to -whom they are proffered reject them as they -would a cockade or a yellow satin waistcoat. On -the other hand, and here is the point of argument, -the real aristocracy of England for the last -hundred years has been an aristocracy of the -foremost, ablest, and worthiest men of the nation, -and with few exceptions the social and -pecuniary rewards have been bestowed both by -the State and by public appreciation on the master-spirits -of the time in the best sense. Brilliant -statesmanship, wisdom on the bench, the surgeon’s -skill, the banker’s sound discernment, -genius in literature and art, when signally contributed -by the individual, have won him fame -and fortune.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - -<p>It may be said, perhaps, that the pecuniary -rewards of science and literature have been less -conspicuous than those accorded to other successes, -but that has been due to the inherent -practical temperament and artistic limitations of -the Englishman, and can scarcely be an argument -against the contention that English society -in the nineteenth century, with all its social idiosyncrasies, -has really been graded on the order -of merit.</p> - -<p>The tide of democracy has set in across the -water and is running strongly, and there can be -no doubt that the next century is likely to work -great and strange changes in the conditions of -society in England as well as here. The same -questions practically are presented to each nation, -except that there a carefully constructed and in -many respects admirable system of society is to -be disintegrated. We are a new country, and we -have a right to be hopeful that we are sooner or -later to outstrip all civilizations. Nor is it a blemish -that the astonishing development of our material -resources has absorbed the energies of our -best blood. But it now remains to be seen whether -the standards of pure democracy, without traditions -or barriers to point the way, are to justify<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -the experiment and improve the race. The character -of our aristocracy will depend on the virtues -and tastes of the people, and the struggle -is to be between aspiration and contentment with -low ambitions. Our original undertaking has been -made far more difficult by the infusion of the -worst blood in Christendom, the lees of foreign -nations; but the result of the experiment will be -much more convincing because of this change in -conditions.</p> - -<p>Who are to be the men of might and heroes -of democracy? That will depend on the demands -and aspirations of the enfranchised people. With -all its imperfections, the civilization of the past -has fostered the noble arts and stirred genius to -immortalize itself in bronze and marble, in cathedral -spires, in masterpieces of painting and literature, -in untiring scholarship, in fervent labors in -law, medicine, and science. Democracy must care -for these things, and encourage the individual to -choose worthy occupations, or society will suffer. -We hope and believe that, in the long run, the -standards of humanity will be raised rather than -lowered by the lifting of the flood-gates which -divide the privileged classes from the mass; but -it behooves us all to remember that while demand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -and supply must be the leading arbiters -in the choice of a vocation, the responsibility of -selection is left to each individual. Only by the -example of individuals will society be saved from -accepting the low, vulgar aims and ambitions of -the mass as a desirable weal, and this is the -strongest argument against the doctrines of those -who would repress individuality for the alleged -benefit of mankind as a whole. The past has -given us many examples of the legislator who -cannot be bribed, of the statesman faithful to -principle, of the student who disdains to be superficial, -of the gentleman who is noble in -thought, and speech and action, and they stand -on the roll of the world’s great men. Democracy -cannot afford not to continue to add to this list, -and either she must steel her countenance against -the cheap man and his works, or sooner or later -be confounded. Was Marie Antoinette a more -dangerous enemy of the people than the newspaper -proprietor who acquires fortune by catering -to the lowest tastes and prejudices of the -public, or the self-made capitalist who argues -that every man has his price, and seeks to accomplish -legislation by bribery?</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Use of Time</i>.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-i-2.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">I brought Rogers home with -me again the other day. I do not -mean Rogers in the flesh; but -the example of Rogers as a bogy -with which to confound my better -half and myself. You may recall that Rogers -is the book-keeper for Patterson the banker, -and that he has brought up and educated a -family on a salary of twenty-two hundred dollars -a year.</p> - -<p>“Barbara,” said I, “we were reflecting yesterday -that we never have time to do the things -we really wish to do. Have you ever considered -how Rogers spends his time?”</p> - -<p>My wife admitted that she had not, and she -dutifully waited for me to proceed, though I -could tell from the expression of her mouth that -she did not expect to derive much assistance -from the example of Mr. Rogers. Therefore I -made an interesting pathological deduction to -begin with.</p> - -<p>“Rogers does not live on his nerves from -one year’s end to the other, as we do.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I congratulate him,” said Barbara, with a -sigh.</p> - -<p>“And yet,” I continued, “he leads a highly -respectable and fairly interesting life. He gets up -at precisely the same hour every morning, has -his breakfast, reads the paper, and is at his desk -punctually on time. He dines frugally, returns -to his desk until half-past four or five, and after -performing any errands which Mrs. Rogers has -asked him to attend to, goes home to the bosom -of his family. There he exchanges his coat and -boots for a dressing-gown, or aged smoking-jacket, -and slippers, and remains by his fireside -absorbed in the evening paper until tea-time. -Conversation with the members of his family -beguiles him for half an hour after the completion -of the meal; then he settles down to the -family weekly magazine, or plays checkers or -backgammon with his wife or daughters. After -a while, if he is interested in ferns or grasses, he -looks to see how his specimens are growing under -the glass case in the corner. He pats the cat and -makes sure that the canary is supplied with seed. -Now and then he brings home a puzzle, like -‘Pigs in Clover,’ which keeps him up half an -hour later than usual, but ordinarily his head is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -nodding before the stroke of ten warns him that -his bed-hour has come. And just at the time -that the wife of his employer, Patterson, may be -setting out for a ball, he is tucking himself up -in bed by the side of Mrs. Rogers.”</p> - -<p>“Poor man!” interjected Barbara.</p> - -<p>“He has his diversions,” said I. “Now and -again neighbors drop in for a chat, and the evening -is wound up with a pitcher of lemonade and -angel-cake. He and his wife drop in, in their -turn, or he goes to a political caucus. Once a -fortnight comes the church sociable, and every -now and then a wedding. From time to time he -and Mrs. Rogers attend lectures. His young people -entertain their friends, as the occasion offers, -in a simple way, and on Sunday he goes to church -in the morning and falls to sleep after a heavy -dinner in the afternoon. He leads a quiet, peaceful, -conservative existence, unharassed by social -functions and perpetual excitement.”</p> - -<p>“And he prides himself, I dare say,” said -Barbara, “on the score of its virtuousness. He -saves his nerves and he congratulates himself -that he is not a society person, as he calls it. -Your Mr. Rogers may be a very estimable individual, -dear, in his own sphere, and I do think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -he manages wonderfully on his twenty-two hundred -dollars a year; but I should prefer to see -you lose your nerves and become a gibbering -victim of nervous prostration rather than that -you should imitate him.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not proposing to imitate him, Barbara,” -I answered, gravely. “I admit that his life seems -rather dull and not altogether inspiring, but I -do think that a little of his repose would be -beneficial to many of us whose interests are more -varied. We might borrow it to advantage for a -few months in the year, don’t you think so? I -believe, Barbara, that if you and I were each of -us to lie flat on our backs for one hour every -day and think of nothing—and not even clinch -our hands—we should succeed in doing more -things than we really wish to do.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose it’s the climate—they say it’s -the climate,” said Barbara, pensively. “Foreigners -don’t seem to be affected in that way. They’re -not always in a hurry as we are, and yet they -seem to accomplish very nearly as much. We -all know what it is to be conscious of that dreadful, -nervous, hurried feeling, even when we have -plenty of time to do the things we have to do. -I catch myself walking fast—racing, in fact—when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -there is not the least need of it. I don’t -clinch my hands nearly so much as I used, and -I’ve ceased to hold on to the pillow in bed as -though it were a life-preserver, out of deference -to Delsarte, but when it comes to lying down -flat on my back for an hour a day—every day—really -it isn’t feasible. It’s an ideal plan, I -dare say, but the days are not long enough. Just -take to-day, for instance, and tell me, please, -when I had time to lie down.”</p> - -<p>“You are clinching your hands now,” I remarked.</p> - -<p>“Because you have irritated me with your -everlasting Mr. Rogers,” retorted Barbara. She -examined, nevertheless, somewhat dejectedly, -the marks of her nails in her palms. “In the -morning, for instance, when I came down to -breakfast there was the mail. Two dinner invitations -and an afternoon tea; two sets of wedding-cards, -and a notice of a lecture by Miss -Clara Hatheway on the relative condition of -primary schools here and abroad; requests for -subscriptions to the new Cancer Hospital and -the Children’s Fresh Air and Vacation Fund; -an advertisement of an after-holiday sale of boys’ -and girls’ clothes at Halliday’s; a note from Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -James Green asking particulars regarding our -last cook, and a letter from the President of my -Woman’s Club notifying me that I was expected -to talk to them at the next meeting on the arguments -in favor of and against the ownership -by cities and towns of gas and water-works. All -these had to be answered, noted, or considered. -Then I had to interview the cook and the -butcher and the grocer about the dinner, give -orders that a button should be sewn on one pair -of your trousers and a stain removed from another, -and give directions to the chore-man to -oil the lock of the front-door, and tell him to go -post-haste for the plumber to extract the blotting-paper -which the children yesterday stuffed -down the drain-pipe in the bath-tub, so that the -water could not escape. Then I had to sit down -and read the newspaper. Not because I had time, -or wished to, but to make sure that there was -nothing in it which you could accuse me of not -having read. After this I dressed to go out. I -stopped at the florist’s to order some roses for -Mrs. Julius Cæsar, whose mother is dead; at -Hapgood & Wales’s and at Jones’s for cotton-batting, -hooks and eyes, and three yards of ribbon; -at Belcher’s for an umbrella to replace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -mine, which you left in the cable-cars, and at -the library to select something to read. I arrived -home breathless for the children’s dinner, and -immediately afterward I dressed and went to the -meeting of the Executive Committee of the Woman’s -Club, stopping on the way to inquire if -Mrs. Wilson’s little boy were better. We started -by discussing a proposed change in our Constitution -regarding the number of black-balls necessary -to exclude a candidate, and drifted off on -to ‘Trilby.’ It was nearly five when I got away, -and as I felt it on my conscience to go both to -Mrs. Southwick’s and Mrs. Williams’s teas, I -made my appearance at each for a few minutes, -but managed to slip away so as to be at home -at six. When you came in I had just been reading -to the children and showing them about their -lessons. Now I have only just time to dress for -dinner, for we dine at the Gregory Browns, at -half-past seven. We ought to go later to the reception -at Mrs. Hollis’s—it is her last of three -and we haven’t been yet—but I suppose you -will say you are too tired. There! will you tell -me when I could have found time to lie down -for an hour to-day?”</p> - -<p>I was constrained to laugh at my wife’s recital,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -and I was not able at the moment to point -out to her exactly what she might have omitted -from her category so as to make room for the -hour of repose. Nor, indeed, as I review the -events of my own daily life and of the daily lives -of my friends and acquaintances, am I able to -define precisely where it could be brought in. -And yet are we not—many of us who are in the -thick of modern life—conscious that our days -are, as it were, congested? We feel sure that so -far as our physical comfort is concerned we ought -to be doing less, and we shrewdly suspect that, if -we had more time in which to think, our spiritual -natures would be the gainers. The difficulty -is to stop, or rather to reduce the speed of modern -living to the point at which these high-pressure -nervous symptoms disappear, and the days -cease to seem too short for what we wish to -accomplish. Perhaps those who take an intense -interest in living will never be able to regain that -delightful condition of equipoise, if it ever existed, -which our ancestors both here and across -the water are said to have experienced. Perhaps, -too, our ancestors were more in a hurry when -they were alive than they seem to have been now -that they are dead; but, whether this be true or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -otherwise, we are confidently told by those who -ought to know that we Americans of this day and -generation are the most restless, nervous people -under the sun, and live at a higher pressure than -our contemporaries of the effete civilizations. It -used to be charged that we were in such haste to -grow rich that there was no health in us; and -now that we are, or soon will be, the wealthiest -nation in the world, they tell us that we continue -to maintain the same feverish pace in all that we -undertake or do.</p> - -<p>I am not sure that this charge could not be -brought against the Englishman, Frenchman, or -German of to-day with almost equal justice, or, -in other words, that it is a characteristic of the -age rather than of our nation; but that conviction -would merely solace our pride and could not -assuage “that tired feeling” of which so many -are conscious. At all events, if we do not work -harder than our kinsmen across the sea, we seem -to bear the strain less well. It may be the climate, -as my wife has said, which causes our nervous -systems to rebel; but then, again, we cannot -change the climate, and consequently must adapt -ourselves to its idiosyncrasies.</p> - -<p>Ever since we first began to declare that we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -were superior to all other civilizations we have -been noted for our energy. The way in which we -did everything, from sawing wood to electing a -President, was conspicuous by virtue of the bustling, -hustling qualities displayed. But it is no -longer high treason to state that our national life, -in spite of its bustle, was, until comparatively recently, -lacking in color and variety. The citizen -who went to bed on the stroke of ten every night -and did practically the same thing each day from -one year’s end to the other was the ideal citizen -of the Republic, and was popularly described as -a conservative and a strong man. His life was -led within very repressed limits, and anything -more artistic than a chromo or religious motto -was apt to irritate him and shock his principles. -To be sure, we had then our cultivated class—more -narrowly but possibly more deeply cultivated -than its flourishing successor of to-day—but -the average American, despite his civic virtues -and consciousness of rectitude, led a humdrum -existence, however hustling or bustling. -There is a large percentage of our population that -continues to live in much the same manner, notwithstanding -the wave of enlightenment which -has swept over the country and keyed us all up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -to concert pitch by multiplying the number of -our interests. I feel a little guilty in having included -Rogers among this number, for I really -know of my own knowledge nothing about his -individual home life. It may be that I have been -doing him a rank injustice, and that his home is -in reality a seething caldron of progress. I referred -to him as a type rather than as an individual, -knowing as I do that there are still too -many homes in this country where music, art, -literature, social tastes, and intelligent interest in -human affairs in the abstract, when developed -beyond mere rudimentary lines, are unappreciated -and regarded as vanities or inanities.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, there is nothing more interesting -in our present national evolution than -the eager recognition by the intelligent and aspiring -portion of the people that we have been -and are ignorant, and that the true zest of life -lies in its many-sidedness and its possibilities of -development along æsthetic, social, and intellectual -as well as moral lines. The United States -to-day is fairly bristling with eager, ambitious -students, and with people of both sexes, young -and middle-aged, who are anxiously seeking how -to make the most of life. This eagerness of soul<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -is not confined to any social class, and is noticeable -in every section of the country in greater or -less degree. It is quite as likely to be found among -people of very humble means as among those -whose earliest associations have brought them -into contact with the well-to-do and carefully -educated. Therefore I beg the pardon of Rogers -in case I have put him individually in the wrong -category. A divine yet cheery activity has largely -taken the place of sodden self-righteousness on -the one hand, and analytical self-consciousness -on the other. The class is not as yet very large -as compared with the entire population of the -country, but it is growing rapidly, and its members -are the most interesting men and women of -the Republic—those who are in the van of our -development as a people.</p> - -<p>Overcrowded and congested lives signify at -least earnestness and absorption. Human nature -is more likely to aspire and advance when society -is nervously active, than when it is bovine -and self-congratulatory. But nerves can endure -only a certain amount of strain without reminding -human beings that strong and healthy bodies -are essential to true national progress. Only recently -in this country have we learned to consider<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -the welfare of the body, and though we -have begun to be deadly in earnest about athletics, -the present generation of workers was, -for the most part, brought up on the theory that -flesh and blood was a limitation rather than a -prerequisite. We are doing bravely in this matter -so far as the education of our children is concerned, -but it is too late to do much for our own -nerves. Though stagnation is a more deplorable -state, it behooves us, nevertheless, if possible, to -rid ourselves of congestion for our ultimate -safety.</p> - -<p>An active man or woman stopping to think -in the morning may well be appalled at the variety -of his or her life. The ubiquity of the modern -American subconsciousness is something -unique. We wish to know everything there is -to know. We are interested not merely in our -own and our neighbors’ affairs—with a knowledge -of which so many citizens of other lands -are peacefully contented—but we are eager to -know, and to know with tolerable accuracy, what -is going on all over the world—in England, -China, Russia, and Australia. Not merely politically, -but socially, artistically, scientifically, -philosophically, and ethically. No subject is too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -technical for our interest, provided it comes in -our way, whether it concern the canals in Mars -or the antitoxin germ. The newspaper and the -telegraph have done much to promote this ubiquity -of the mind’s eye all over the world, but the -interests of the average American are much wider -and more diversified than those of any other -people. An Englishman will have his hobbies -and know them thoroughly, but regarding affairs -beyond the pale of his limited inquiry he -is deliberately and often densely ignorant. He -reads, and reads augustly, one newspaper, one or -two magazines—a few books; we, on the other -hand, are not content unless we stretch out feelers -in many directions and keep posted, as we -call it, by hasty perusals of almost innumerable -publications for fear lest something escape us. -What does the Frenchman—the average intelligent -Frenchman—know or care about the mode -of our Presidential elections, and whether this -Republican or that Democrat has made or -marred his political reputation? We feel that we -require to inform ourselves not only concerning -the art and literature of France, but to have the -names and doings of her statesmen at our fingers’ -ends for use in polite conversation, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -satisfaction of the remains of the New England -conscience. All this is highly commendable, if -it does not tend to render us superficial. The -more knowledge we have, the better, provided -we do not fall into the slough of knowing nothing -very well, or hunt our wits to death by over-acquisitiveness. -There is so much nowadays to -learn, and seemingly so little time in which to -learn it, we cannot afford to spread ourselves too -thin.</p> - -<p>The energy of our people has always been -conspicuous in the case of women. The American -woman, from the earliest days of our history, -has refused to be prevented by the limitations of -time or physique from trying to include the entire -gamut of human feminine activity in her daily -experience. There was a period when she could -demonstrate successfully her ability to cook, -sweep, rear and educate children, darn her husband’s -stockings, and yet entertain delightfully, -dress tastefully, and be well versed in literature -and all the current phases of high thinking. The -New England woman of fifty years ago was certainly -an interesting specimen from this point -of view, in spite of her morbid conscience and -polar sexual proclivities. But among the well-to-do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -women of the nation to-day—the women who -correspond socially to those just described—this -achievement is possible only by taxing the -human system to the point of distress, except -in the newly or thinly settled portions of the -country, where the style of living is simple and -primitive.</p> - -<p>In the East, of course, in the cities and towns -the women in question ceased long ago to do all -the housework; and among the well-to-do, servants -have relieved her of much, if not of all of -the physical labor. But, on the other hand, the -complexities of our modern establishments, and -the worry which her domestics cause her, make -the burden of her responsibilities fully equal to -what they were when she cooked flap-jacks and -darned stockings herself. In other countries the -women conversant with literature, art, and science, -who go in for philanthropy, photography, -or the ornamentation of china, who write papers -on sociological or educational matters, are, for -the most part, women of leisure in other respects. -The American woman is the only woman at -large in the universe who aims to be the wife -and mother of a family, the mistress of an establishment, -a solver of world problems, a social<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -leader, and a philanthropist or artistic devotee -at one and the same time. Each of these interests -has its determined followers among the women -of other civilizations, but nowhere except -here does the eternal feminine seek to manifest -itself in so many directions in the same individual.</p> - -<p>This characteristic of our womanhood is a virtue -up to a certain point. The American woman -has certainly impressed her theory that her sex -should cease to be merely pliant, credulous, and -ignorantly complacent so forcibly on the world -that society everywhere has been affected by it. -Her desire to make the most of herself, and to -participate as completely as possible in the vital -work of the world without neglecting the duties -allotted to her by the older civilizations, is in the -line of desirable evolution. But there is such a -thing as being superficial, which is far more to be -dreaded than even nervous prostration. Those -absorbed in the earnest struggle of modern living -may perhaps justly claim that to work until one -drops is a noble fault, and that disregard of one’s -own sensations and comfort is almost indispensable -in order to accomplish ever so little. But -there is nothing noble in superficiality; and it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -would seem that the constant flitting from one -interest to another, which so many American women -seem unable to avoid, must necessarily tend -to prevent them from knowing or doing anything -thoroughly.</p> - -<p>As regards the creature man, the critics of this -country have been accustomed to assert that he -was so much absorbed in making money, or in -business, as our popular phrase is, that he had -no time for anything else. This accusation used -to be extraordinarily true, and in certain parts of -the country it has not altogether ceased to be -true; though even there the persistent masculine -dollar-hunter regards wistfully and proudly the -æsthetic propensities of the female members of -his family, and feels that his labors are sweetened -thereby. This is a very different attitude from -the self-sufficiency of half a century ago. The -difficulty now is that our intelligent men, like our -women, are apt to attempt too much, inclined to -crowd into each and every day more sensations -than they can assimilate. An Englishwoman, -prominent in educational matters, and intelligent -withal, recently expressed her surprise to my -wife, Barbara, that the American gentleman existed. -She had been long familiar with the American<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -woman as a charming, if original, native product, -but she had never heard of the American -gentleman—meaning thereby the alert, thoughtful -man of high purposes and good-breeding. -“How many there are!” the Briton went on to -say in the enthusiasm of her surprise. Indeed -there are. The men prominent in the leading -walks of life all over this country now compare -favorably, at least, with the best of other nations, -unless it be that our intense desire to know -everything has rendered, or may render, us accomplished -rather than profound.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Use of Time</i>.</h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-a-2.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">After all, whether this suggestion -of a tendency toward superficiality -be well founded or not, the proper -use of time has come to be a more -serious problem than ever for the entire world. -The demands of modern living are so exacting -that men and women everywhere must exercise -deliberate selection in order to live wisely. To -lay down general rules for the use of time would -be as futile as to insist that every one should use -coats of the same size and color, and eat the same -kind and quantity of food. The best modern living -may perhaps be correctly defined as a happy -compromise in the aims and actions of the individual -between self-interest and altruism.</p> - -<p>If one seeks to illustrate this definition by example -it is desirable in the first place to eliminate -the individuals in the community whose use of -time is so completely out of keeping with this -doctrine that it is not worth while to consider -them. Murderers, forgers, and criminals of all -kinds, including business men who practise petty -thefts, and respectable tradesmen who give short<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -weight and overcharge, instinctively occur to us. -So do mere pleasure-seekers, drunkards, and idle -gentlemen. On the same theory we must exclude -monks, deliberate celibates, nuns, and all fanatical -or eccentric persons whose conduct of life, -however serviceable in itself as a leaven or an -exception, could not be generally imitated without -disaster to society. It would seem also as -though we must exclude those who have yet to -acquire such elemental virtues of wise living as -cleanliness, reverence for the beautiful, and a certain -amount of altruism. There is nothing to -learn as to the wise use of time from those whose -conceptions of life are handicapped by the habitual -use of slang and bad grammar and by untidiness; -who regard the manifestations of good -taste and fine scholarship as “frills,” and who, -though they be unselfish in the bosoms of their -families, take no interest in the general welfare -of the community.</p> - -<p>Let me in this last connection anticipate the -criticism of the sentimentalist and of the free-born -American who wears a chip on his shoulder, by -stating that time may be as beautifully and wisely -spent, and life be as noble and serviceable to -humanity in the home of the humblest citizen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -as in that of the well-to-do or rich. Of course it -may. Who questions it? Did I not, in order not -even to seem to doubt it, take back all I hazarded -about the manner in which Rogers spends his -time? It <em>may</em> be just as beautifully and wisely -spent, and very often is so. But, on the other -hand, I suggest, timorously and respectfully, that -it very often is not, and I venture further to ask -whether the burden is not on democracy to show -that the plain life of the plain people as at present -conducted is a valuable example of wise and -improving use of time? The future is to account -for itself, and we all have faith in democracy. We -are all plain people in this country. But just as a -passing inquiry, uttered not under my breath, -yet without levity or malice, what is the contribution -so far made by plainness as plainness to -the best progress of the world? Absolutely nothing, -it seems to me. Progress has come from the -superiority of individuals in every class of life to -the mass of their contemporaries. The so-called -plainness of the plain people too often serves at -the present day as an influence to drag down the -aspiring individual to the dead level of the mass -which contents itself with bombastic cheapness -of thought and action. This is no plea against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -democracy, for democracy has come to stay; but -it is an argument why the best standards of living -are more likely to be found among those who -do not congratulate themselves on their plainness -than those who are content to live no better -and no worse than their neighbors. Discontent -with self is a valuable Mentor in the apportionment -of time.</p> - -<p>Therefore I offer as the most valuable study -in the use of time under modern conditions the -men and women in our large cities who are so -far evolved that they are not tempted to commit -common crimes, are well educated, earnest and -pleasing, and are keenly desirous to effect in their -daily lives that happy compromise between self-interest -and altruism to which I have referred as -the goal of success in the use of time. Let us consider -them from the point of every day in the -week and of the four seasons. In every man’s life -his occupation, the calling or profession by which -he earns his bread, must necessarily be the chief -consumer of his time. We Americans have never -been an idle race, and it is rare that the father of -a family exposes himself to the charge of sloth. -His work may be unintelligent or bungling, but -he almost invariably spends rather too much than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -too little time over it. If you ask him why, he -says he cannot help it; that in order to get on -he must toil early and late. If he is successful, -he tells you that otherwise he cannot attend to -all he has to do. There is plausibility in this. -Competition is undoubtedly so fierce that only -those who devote themselves heart and soul to -any calling are likely to succeed. Moreover, the -consciousness of success is so engrossing and inspiriting -that one may easily be tempted to sacrifice -everything else to the game.</p> - -<p>But can it be doubted, on the other hand, that -the man who refuses to become the complete -slave either of endeavor or success is a better -citizen than he who does? The chief sinners in -this respect in our modern life are the successful -men, those who are in the thick of life doing -reasonably well. The man who has not arrived, -or who is beginning, must necessarily have leisure -for other things for the reason that his time -is not fully employed, but the really busy worker -must make an effort or he is lost. If he does not -put his foot down and determine what else he -will do beside pursuing his vocation every day -in the year except Sunday, and often on Sunday -to boot, he may be robust enough to escape a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -premature grave, but he will certainly not make -the best use of his life.</p> - -<p>The difficulty for such men, of course, is to select -what they will do. There are so many things, -that it is easy to understand why the mind which -abhors superficiality should be tempted to shut -its ears out of sheer desperation to every other -interest but business or profession. If every one -were to do that what would be the result? Our -leading men would simply be a horde of self-seekers, -in spite of the fact that their individual -work in their several callings was conscientious -and unsparing of self. Deplorable as a too great -multiplicity of interests is apt to be to the welfare -and advancement of an ambitious man, the -motive which prompts him to endeavor to do -many things is in reality a more noble one, and -one more beneficial to society than absorption -to excess in a vocation. The cardinal principle -in the wise use of time is to discover what one -can do without and to select accordingly. Man’s -duty to his spiritual nature, to his æsthetic nature, -to his family, to public affairs, and to his -social nature, are no less imperative than his duty -to his daily calling. Unless each of these is in -some measure catered to, man falls short in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -true obligations. Not one of them can be neglected. -Some men think they can lighten the -load to advantage by disregarding their religious -side. Others congratulate themselves that they -never read novels or poetry, and speak disrespectfully -of the works of new schools of art as -daubs. A still larger number shirks attention to -political and social problems, and declares bluffly -that if a man votes twice a year and goes to a -caucus, when he is sent for in a carriage by the -committee, it is all that can be expected of a busy -man. Another large contingent swathes itself in -graceless virtue, and professes to thank God that -it keeps aloof from society people and their doings. -Then we are all familiar with the man who -has no time to know his own family, though, -fortunately, he is less common than he used to -be.</p> - -<p>If I were asked to select what one influence -more than another wastes the spare time of the -modern man, I should be inclined to specify the -reading of newspapers. The value of the modern -daily newspaper as a short cut to knowledge of -what is actually happening in two hemispheres -is indisputable, provided it is read regularly so -that one can eliminate from the consciousness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -those facts which are contradicted or qualified on -the following day. Of course it is indispensable -to read the morning, and perhaps the evening, -newspaper in order to know what is going on -in the world. But the persistent reading of many -newspapers, or the whole of almost any newspaper, -is nearly as detrimental to the economy -of time as the cigarette habit to health. Fifteen -minutes a day is ample time in which to glean -the news, and the busy man who aspires to use -his time to the best advantage may well skip the -rest. There is no doubt that many of our newspapers -contain some of the best thought of the -day scattered through their encyclopædic columns; -but there is still less doubt that they are -conducted to please, first of all, those who otherwise -would read nothing. From this point of -view they are most valuable educators; moreover, -the character of the newspaper is steadily -improving, and it is evident that those in charge -of the best of them are seeking to raise the public -taste instead of writing down to it; but the -fact remains that they at present contain comparatively -little which the earnest man can afford -to linger over if he would avoid mental dissipation -of an insidious kind. A newspaper containing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -only the news and the really vital thought of -the day compressed into short space is among the -successful enterprises of the future which some -genius will perpetuate. How many of us, already, -weary of the social gossip, the sensational personalities, -the nauseous details of crime, the custom-made -articles, the Sunday special features, -the ubiquitous portrait, and finally the colored -cartoon, would write our names large on such a -subscription-list!</p> - -<p>In the matter of books, too, the modern man -and woman may well exercise a determined -choice. There is so much printed nowadays between -ornamental covers, that any one is liable -to be misled by sheer bewilderment, and deliberate -selection is necessary to save us from being -mentally starved with plenty. We cannot always -be reading to acquire positive knowledge; entertainment -and self-oblivion are quite as legitimate -motives for the hard worker as meditated self-improvement; -but whether we read philosophy -and history, or the novel, the poem, and the -essay, it behooves us to read the best of its kind. -From this standpoint the average book club is -almost a positive curse. A weekly quota of books -appears on our library tables, to be devoured in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -seven days. We read them because they come -to us by lot, not because we have chosen them -ourselves. There is published in every year of -this publishing age a certain number of books -of positive merit in the various departments of -literature and thought, which a little intelligent -inquiry would enable us to discover. By reading -fewer books, and making sure that the serious -ones were sound and the light or clever ones -really diverting, the modern man and woman -would be gainers both in time and approbation.</p> - -<p>In this connection let me head off again the sentimentalist -and moralist by noting that old friends -in literature are often more satisfying and engaging -than new. Those of us who are in the thick -of life are too apt to forget to take down from -our shelves the comrades we loved when we -were twenty-one—the essayists, the historians, -the poets, and novelists whose delightful pages -are the literature of the world. An evening at -home with Shakespeare is not the depressing -experience which some clever people imagine. -One rises from the feast to go to bed with all -one’s æsthetic being refreshed and fortified as -though one had inhaled oxygen. What a contrast -this to the stuffy taste in the roof of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -mouth, and the weary, dejected frame of mind -which follow the perusal of much of the current -literature which cozening booksellers have induced -the book club secretary to buy.</p> - -<p>A very little newspaper reading and a limited -amount of selected reading will leave time for -the hobby or avocation. Every man or woman -ought to have one; something apart from business, -profession, or housekeeping, in which he -or she is interested as a study or pursuit. In this -age of the world it may well take the form of -educational, economic, or philanthropic investigation, -or co-operation, if individual tastes happen -to incline one to such work. The prominence -of such matters in our present civilization is, of -course, a magnet favorable to such a choice. In -this way one can, as it were, kill two birds with -one stone, develop one’s own resources and perform -one’s duty toward the public. But, on the -other hand, there will be many who have no -sense of fitness for this service, and whose predilections -lead them toward art, science, literature, -or some of their ramifications. The amateur -photographer, the extender of books, the observer -of birds, are alike among the faithful. To -have one hobby and not three or four, and to persevere<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -slowly but steadily in the fulfilment of -one’s selection, is an important factor in the wise -disposal of time. It is a truism to declare that a -few minutes in every day allotted to the same -piece of work will accomplish wonders; but the -result of trying will convince the incredulous. -Indeed one’s avocation should progress and prevail -by force of spare minutes allotted daily and -continuously; just so much and no more, so as -not to crowd out the other claimants for consideration. -Fifteen minutes before breakfast, or -between kissing the children good-night and the -evening meal, or even every other Saturday afternoon -and a part of every holiday, will make -one’s hobby look well-fed and sleek at the end -of a few years.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the most difficult side of one’s nature -to provide for adequately is the social side. It is -easy enough to make a hermit of one’s self and -go nowhere; and it is easy enough to let one’s -self be sucked into the vortex of endless social -recreation until one’s sensations become akin to -those of a highly varnished humming-top. I am -not quite sure which is the worse; but I am inclined -to believe that the hermit, especially if -self-righteous, is more detestable in that he is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -less altruistic. He may be a more superior person -than the gadfly of society, but ethics no longer -sanctions self-cultivation purely for the benefit -of self. Every man and woman who seeks to play -an intelligent part in the world ought to manage -to dine out and attend other social functions -every now and then, even if it be necessary to -bid for invitations. Most of us have more invitations -than we can possibly accept, and find the -problem of entertaining and being entertained an -exceedingly perplexing one to solve from the -standpoint of time. But in spite of the social -proclivities of most of us, there are still many -people who feel that they are fulfilling their complete -duty as members of society if they live -lives of strict rectitude far from the madding -crowd of so-called society people, and never -darken the doors of anybody. It is said that it -takes all sorts of people to make up the world, -but disciplinarians and spoil-sports of this sort -are so tiresome that they would not be missed -were they and their homilies to be translated prematurely -to another sphere.</p> - -<p>Those of us, however, who profess a contrary -faith, experience difficulty at times in being true -to it, and are often tempted to slip back into domestic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -isolation by the feverishness of our social -life. It sometimes seems as though there were no -middle way between being a humming-top and a -hermit. Yet nothing is more fatal to the wise use -of time than the acceptance of every invitation -received, unless it be the refusal of every one. -Here again moderation and choice are the only -safeguards, in spite of the assurance of friends -that it is necessary to go a great deal in order to -enjoy one’s self. In our cities the bulk of the entertainments -of the year happen in the four winter -months; from which many far from frivolous -persons argue that the only way is to dine out -every night, and go to everything to which one -is asked during this period, and make up between -April 15th and December 15th for any -arrears due the other demands of one’s nature. -This is plausible, but a dangerous theory, if carried -to excess. Wise living consists in living -wisely from day to day, without excepting any -season. Three evenings in a week spent away -from one’s own fireside may not be an easy limit -for some whose social interests are varied, but -both the married and the single who regret politely -in order to remain tranquilly at home four -evenings out of seven, need not fear that they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -have neglected the social side of life even in the -gayest of seasons.</p> - -<p>And here, for the sake of our sometimes dense -friend the moralist—especially the moralist of -the press, who raves against society people from -the virtuous limit of an occasional afternoon tea—let -me add that by entertainments and recreation -I intend to include not merely formal balls -and dinner-parties, but all the forms of more or -less innocent edification and diversion—teas, -reform meetings, theatres, receptions, concerts, -lectures, clubs, sociables, fairs, and tableaux, by -which people all over the country are brought -together to exchange ideas and opinions in good-humored -fellowship.</p> - -<p>In the apportionment of time the consideration -of one’s physical health is a paramount necessity, -not merely for a reasonably long life, but -to temper the mind’s eye so that the point of -view remain sane and wholesome. An overwrought -nervous system may be capable of spasmodic -spurts, but sustained useful work is impossible -under such conditions. To die in harness -before one’s time may be fine, and in exceptional -cases unavoidable, but how much better to live -in harness and do the work which one has undertaken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -without breaking down. Happily the -young men and women of the country of the -present generation may almost be said to have -athletics and fresh air on the brain. What with -opportunity and precept they can scarcely help -living up to the mark in this respect. The grown-up -men and women, absorbed in the struggle of -life, are the people who need to keep a watchful -eye upon themselves. It is so easy to let the -hour’s fresh air and exercise be crowded out by -the things which one feels bound to do for the -sake of others, and hence for one’s immortal soul. -We argue that it will not matter if we omit our -walk or rest for a day or two, and so we go on -from day to day, until we are brought up with -a round turn, as the saying is, and realize, in case -we are still alive, that we are chronic invalids. -The walk, the ride, the drive, the yacht, the bicycle, -the search for wild flowers and birds, the -angler’s outing, the excursion with a camera, -the deliberate open-air breathing spell on the -front platform of a street-car, some one of these -is within the means and opportunities of every -busy worker, male and female.</p> - -<p>For many of us the most begrudged undertaking -of all is to find time for what we owe to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -the world at large or the State, the State with a -capital S, as it is written nowadays. There is no -money in such bestowals, no private gain or emolument. -What we give we give as a tribute to pure -altruism, or, in other words, because as men and -women we feel that it is one of the most important -elements in wise living. It is indisputable -that there was never so much disinterested endeavor -in behalf of the community at large as -there is to-day, but at the same time it is true -that the agitations and work are accomplished by -a comparatively small number of people. There -are probably among the intelligent, aspiring portion -of the population at least five persons who -intend to interest themselves in public affairs, and -regard doing so as essential to a useful life, to -every one who puts his theories into practice. -No man or woman can do everything. We cannot -as individuals at one and the same time busy -ourselves successfully in education, philanthropy, -political reform, and economic science. But if -every one would take an active, earnest concern -in something, in some one thing, and look into -it slowly but thoroughly, this man or woman in -the public schools, this in the methods of municipal -government, and this in the problems of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -crime or poverty, reforms would necessarily proceed -much faster. Just a little work every other -day or every week. Let it be your hobby if you -will, if you have no time for a hobby too. If five -thousand men in every large city should take an -active interest in and give a small amount of time -in every week to the school question, we should -soon have excellent public schools; if another five -thousand would devote themselves to the affairs -of municipal government in a similar fashion, -would there be so much corruption as at present, -and would so inferior a class of citizens be -chosen to be aldermen and to fill the other city -offices? And so on to the end of the chapter. Is -not something of the kind the duty of every earnest -man and woman? Let those who boast of being -plain people put this into their pipes and -smoke it. When the self-styled working-classes -are prohibited by law from working more than -eight hours, will they contribute of their spare -time to help those who are trying to help -them?</p> - -<p>American men have the reputation of being -considerate husbands and indulgent fathers; but -they have been apt at all events, until recently, -to make permission to spend take the place of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -personal comradeship. This has been involuntarily -and regretfully ascribed to business pressure; -but fatalistic remorse is a poor substitute -for duty, even though the loved ones eat off gold -plate and ride in their own carriages as a consequence. -We Americans who have begotten children -in the last twenty years do not need to be -informed that the time given to the society of -one’s wife and family is the most precious expenditure -of all, both for their sakes and our own. -But though the truth is obvious to us, are we not -sometimes conscious at the end of the week that -the time due us and them has been squandered -or otherwise appropriated? Those walks and -talks, those pleasant excursions from city to -country, or country to city, those quiet afternoons -or evenings at home, which are possible -to every man and woman who love each other -and their children, are among the most valuable -aids to wise living and peace of mind which daily -existence affords. Intimacy and warm sympathy, -precept and loving companionship, are worth all -the indulgent permission and unexpected cheques -in the world. Some people, when Sunday or a -holiday comes, seem to do their best to get rid -of their families and to try to amuse themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -apart from them. Such men and women are shutting -out from their lives the purest oxygen which -civilization affords; for genuine comradeship of -husband and wife, and father or mother and child, -purges the soul and tends to clear the mind’s eye -more truly than any other influence.</p> - -<p>Lastly and firstly, and in close compact with -sweet domesticity and faithful friendship, stand -the spiritual demands of our natures. We must -have time to think and meditate. Just as the flowers -need the darkness and the refreshing dew, the -human soul requires its quiet hours, its season -for meditation and rest. Whatever we may believe, -whatever doubts we may entertain regarding -the mysteries of the universe, who will maintain -that the aspiring side of man is a delusion -and an unreality? In the time—often merely -minutes—which we give to contemplation and -serious review of what we are doing, lies the secret -of the wise plan, if not the execution. To go -on helter-skelter from day to day without a purpose -in our hearts resembles playing a hurdy-gurdy -for a living without the hope of pence. -The use of Sunday in this country has changed -so radically in the last twenty-five years that -every one is free to spend it as he will, subject<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -to certain restrictions as to sport and entertainment -in public calculated to offend those who -would prefer stricter usages. But whether we -choose to go to church or not, whether our aspirations -are fostered in the sanctuary or the fresh -air, the eternal needs of the soul must be provided -for. If we give our spare hours and minutes -merely to careless amusement, we cannot -fail to degenerate in nobility of nature, just as -we lose the hue of health when we sully the red -corpuscles of the body with foul air and steam -heat. Are we not nowadays, even the plain people, -God bless them, too much disposed to believe -that merely to be comfortable and amused -and rested is the sole requirement of the human -soul? It does need rest most of the time in this -age of pressure, Heaven knows, and comfort and -amusement are necessary. But may we not, even -while we rest and are comfortable, under the blue -sky or on the peaceful river, if you will, lift up -our spirits to the mystery of the ages, and reach -out once more toward the eternal truths? Merely -to be comfortable and to get rested once a week -will not bring those truths nearer. May we not, -in the pride of our democracy, afford to turn our -glances back to the pages of history, to the long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -line of mighty men kneeling before the altar with -their eyes turned up to God, and the prayer of -faith and repentance on their lips? Did this all -mean nothing? Are we so wise and certain and -far-seeing that we need not do likewise?</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Summer Problem</i>.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-w-2.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">What is the good American to -do with himself or herself in summer? -The busiest worker nowadays -admits that a vacation of a -fortnight in hot weather is at least -desirable. Philanthropy sends yearly more and -more children on an outing in August, as one of -the best contributions to the happiness and welfare -of the poor. The atmosphere of our large -cities in midsummer is so lifeless and oppressive -that every one who can get away for some part -of the summer plans to do so, and fathers of -families find themselves annually confronted by -a serious problem.</p> - -<p>I specify the father of a family because the -problem is so much easier for a single man. The -single man, and generally the single woman, can -pack a bag and go to the beach or mountains, or -to a hotel within easy distance from town, without -much premeditation. The worst that can happen -to them is that they may become engaged -without intention; besides they can always come -home if they are dissatisfied with their surroundings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -But the family man who lives in a large -city finds more and more difficulty every year, -as the country increases in population, in making -up his mind how best to provide for the -midsummer necessities of his wife and children. -There are several courses of action open to -him.</p> - -<p>He can remain in town and keep his family -there.</p> - -<p>He can remain in town himself and send his -family to a distance.</p> - -<p>He can hire a house or lodgings by the sea or -in the country within easy reach of town by railroad -or steamboat.</p> - -<p>He can send his family to a summer hotel at a -distance, or take a house or lodgings at a distance, -making occasional flying trips to and from -town, according to his opportunities.</p> - -<p>To stay in town and keep one’s family there -is a far from disagreeable experience except in -very large cities in unusually hot weather. The -custom of going away from home in summer is -one which has grown by force of imitation. The -inclination to change one’s surroundings, and to -give the wife and children a whiff of country or -sea or mountain air for a few weeks in the course<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -of the year is an ambition which is neither godless -nor extravagant. But it is not worth while -to set this necessity up as an idol to be worshipped -at the expense of comfort for the rest of -the year, for, after all, our ancestors successfully -reared large families of children, including some -of us, without going away from home in the summer, -and “the-can’t-get-aways” in our largest -and most uncomfortable cities still outnumber -those who can and do in the proportion of at -least five to one. It costs more to go away than -to stay in town; from which certain native philosophers, -who maintain that any one who spends -more than twenty-five hundred dollars on his -family in any one year is not a good American, -may argue that those who have both a summer -and a winter home are aristocrats and materialists. -Their argument is not likely to diminish -summer travel, to bankrupt the summer hotels, -or to induce the well-to-do American citizen to -shut up his cottage. A change in summer, for a -longer or shorter period, is generally recognized -as one of the most healthful and improving advantages -which a father in our civilization can -give his family and himself. On the other hand, -to go out of town simply because one’s neighbors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -do, when one cannot afford it, is a pitiful -performance.</p> - -<p>Moreover, the man who does not send his -family out of town from motives of economy, -has more than a clean conscience to comfort him. -He can remember that probably one-third of -the annual experiments in summer culture and -health-giving recreation, made by his friends -and acquaintance, turn out dire failures, and -that another one-third result in mixed joy and -comfort. He can reflect too, if he lives in the -suburbs of a city, or in a town or small city, that, -barring a few exceptionally hot days, he and his -family are really very comfortable at home. Even -if his household gods are in a parboiled metropolis, -he will commonly be able to relieve his tedium -and physical discomfort by some form of -excursion. All our seaboard cities have their midsummer -Meccas for the multitude in the form -of beaches; and even where no ocean breezes -blow, there is usually close at hand verdure, a -lake, a grove, or a river where the philosophical -soul can forget the thermometer, and cease to -commiserate with itself on being kept in town. -One’s own bed is never humpy, and the hollows -in it are just fitted to one’s bones or adipose developments.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -One can eat and drink in one’s -town-house without fear of indigestion or germs. -Decidedly the happiness of staying at home is -not much less than the happiness of passing one, -two, or three months at a place where everything -is uncomfortable or nasty, at a cost which one -can ill afford, if at all. Good city milk and succulent -city vegetables are luxuries which are rarely -to be found at the ordinary summer resort.</p> - -<p>It is difficult to convince one’s family of this -in advance. Besides, man is always to be blessed. -We are always hoping that the next summer will -be a grand improvement on those which have -gone before, and generally by the first of May we -believe, or at least imagine, that we have discovered -the genuine article—the ideal spot at last. -Discovered it for our families. The American -father has the trick of sending his family out of -town for the summer, and staying at home himself. -This had its origin probably in his supposed -inability to escape from business in the -teeth of the family craving to see something of -the world outside of their own social acquaintance. -Yet he acknowledged the force of the family -argument that with such a large country to -explore it would be a pity not to explore it; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -accordingly he said, “Go, and I will join you if -and when I can.” Paterfamilias said this long -ago, and in some instances he has vainly been -trying to join them ever since. There are all -sorts of trying in this world, and perhaps his has -not been as determined as some; nevertheless, -he has maintained tolerably well the reputation -of trying. The Saturday night trains and steamboats -all over the country are vehicles, from -July first to October first, of an army of fathers -who are trying successfully to join their nearest -and dearest at the different summer-resorts of -the land.</p> - -<p>To be separated for three months from one’s -wife and children, except for a day or two once a -fortnight, is scarcely an ideal domestic arrangement, -in spite of the fact that it is more or less -delightful for the dear ones to meet new people -and see new scenes. The American father may -not try very hard to leave his city home, but it -must be admitted that he has been an amiable -biped on the score of the summer question. He -has been and is ready to suffer silently for the -sake of his family and his business. But now that -he has made up his mind at last that he prefers to -leave his business for the sake of his family and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -his own health, the difficulties of sending them to -a distance are more apparent to him. Ten or fifteen -years ago it dawned upon him that the city -in summer without his family was not the ideal -spot his fancy had painted, and that the sea-side -and country, especially the former, were, after all, -the best place for an overworked, full-grown -man on a summer’s afternoon. It dawned upon -him, too, that there was sea-coast and country -close at hand where he could establish his family -and refresh himself at the end of every day’s -work. Twenty-five years ago the marine and attractive -suburban environs of our cities were -substantially unappropriated. To-day they bristle -with cottages, large and small, the summer -homes of city men. Every available promontory, -island, hill, nook, and crook, which commands -a pleasing view or is visited by cooling breezes -is, or soon will be, occupied. What can a busy -man do better, if he can afford it, than buy or -hire a cottage, as humble as you like, to which -he can return in the afternoon to the bosom of -his own family, and be comfortable and lazy until -morning?</p> - -<p>From the domestic point of view this is assuredly -the most satisfactory arrangement for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -father, and the American paterfamilias, ever since -the truth dawned upon him, has been prompt in -recognizing the fact. He has builded, too, according -to his taste, whim, and individual idiosyncrasies. -A sea-side cottage within easy reach -of town includes, to-day, every variety of shelter -from a picturesque villa of the most super-civilized -type to the hulk of a ship fitted up as a -camping-out home. To a large extent, too, the -hotel has been discarded in favor of the domestic -hearth, even though the single chimney smokes -so that tears are perpetually in the domestic eye. -The well-to-do city man who comes to town -every day appreciates that a hotel is a poor place -for children; consequently the long piazzas, -where the terrible infant forever used to abound, -are now trodden chiefly by visitors from a distance -and transients who have escaped from the -city for a day in search of a sea-bath and a clam -chowder.</p> - -<p>If the summer cottage to which the husband -returns at night, is not the most satisfactory arrangement -for the mother, she must blame herself -or the civilization in which she lives. The -sole argument in favor of passing the summer -at a hotel is that the wife and mother escapes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -thereby the cares of housekeeping, too often so -severe during the rest of the year that the prospect -of not being obliged to order dinner for -three months causes her to wake in the night -and laugh hysterically. Formality and conventional -ceremony are the lurking enemies of our -American summer life, who threaten to deprive -our mothers and daughters of the rest and vacation -from the tension, excitement, and worry -begotten by nine months of active domestic duties. -Simplicity of living ought to be the controlling -warm-weather maxim of every household -where the woman at the head of the establishment -does the housekeeping, as nine thousand -nine hundred and ninety-nine women out of ten -thousand in America do.</p> - -<p>It may be argued that greater simplicity in -living all the year round would enable the wife -and mother to do without a vacation. Possibly. -But unfortunately for her the trend of the tide -is all the other way. Besides, simplicity is such -a difficult word to conjure with. Her interests -have become so varied that the wear and tear is -quite as likely to proceed from new mental strivings -as from a multiplicity of sheer domestic -duties. At least there seems to be no immediate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -prospect that she will be less tired in the spring, -however exemplary her intentions, and it therefore -behooves her not to allow the wave of increasing -luxury to bear her on its crest through -the summer and land her in her town-house in -October a physical and mental wreck.</p> - -<p>The external attractiveness of the modern -summer cottage, with its pleasing angles and -comely stains, is easily made an excuse for an -artistic interior and surroundings to match. But -artistic beauty in summer can readily be produced -without elaboration, and at comparatively -slight cost, if we only choose to be content with -simple effects. The bewitching charm of the summer -girl, if analyzed, proves to be based on a -few cents a yard and a happy knack of combining -colors and trifles. Why need we be solicitous -to have all the paraphernalia of winter-life—meals -with many courses, a retinue of servants, -wines, festal attire, and splendid entertainments? -While we rejoice that the promiscuous comradeship -of hotel life has largely given place at Newport, -Bar Harbor, Lenox, and our other fashionable -watering-places to the pleasant protection -of the cottage home, is it not seriously deplorable -that simplicity is too often lost sight of? To be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -comfortable is one thing, to be swathed in luxury -or to be tortured by ceremony all the time is another. -It seems strange to many of us, who cannot -choose precisely what we will do and where we will -go in summer, that those who can so often select a -mere repetition of mid-winter social recreation.</p> - -<p>There is Patterson the banker for instance, the -employer of Rogers. He can go where he pleases, -and he goes to Newport. One can see him any -afternoon driving augustly on Bellevue Avenue -or along the ocean drive, well gloved, well shod, -and brilliantly necktied, in his landau beside Mrs. -Patterson. They have been to Newport for years -in summer, and their house, with its beautiful outlook -to sea, has doubled and trebled in value. How -do they pass their time? Entertain and let themselves -be entertained. Dinners with formal comestibles, -late dances, champagne luncheons, <i lang="fr">paté -de fois gras</i> picnics on a coach are their daily associations. -Mr. and Mrs. Patterson are close upon -sixty themselves, but they follow—a little more -solemnly than formerly, but still without stint—the -same programme, which grows more and more -elaborate with each succeeding year. It was there -that their youngest daughter was married six -months ago, with widely heralded splendor, to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -Russian nobleman who speaks beautiful English. -May her lot be a happy one! The son, who went -through the Keeley cure, and the elder daughter, -who is separated from her husband, have spent -their summers at Newport from their youth up.</p> - -<p>There are comparatively few who have the -means to live, or who do live just like Patterson, -but there is many a man of fine instincts and with -a sufficient income to maintain a summer home, -who finds himself to-day oppressed by the incubus -of things. He seeks rest, books, fresh air, -the opportunity to enjoy nature—the sea, the -foliage, the flowers—and yet he is harassed by -things, the very things he has all winter, with a -garnishment suitable to hot weather. He wishes -to be still; and things keep him moving. He -yearns to strip off, if not all his clothing, at least -enough of it to give his lungs and his soul full -play; but things keep him faultlessly dressed. -He intends to slake his thirst only from the old -oaken bucket or the milk-pail, and things keep -his palate titillated with champagne and cocktails. -Our old-time simplicity in summer is perhaps -no longer possible in the large watering-places. -It is even with considerable satisfaction -that we don, and see our wives and children don,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -the attractive clothing which has taken the place -of shirt-sleeves and flannel shirts as articles of -toilette; but is it not time to cry halt in our procession -toward luxury, if we do not wish to live -on our nerves all the year round?</p> - -<p>It is this difficulty in escaping the expenses -and the formality of city life in the summer cottage -or at the summer hotel, almost as much as -the fact that the desirable locations near town -have all been taken, which is inclining the American -father to send his family to a distance. After -twenty-five years of exploration the outlying -beaches and other favorite resorts near our large -cities have become so thoroughly appropriated -that the man who wishes to build or own a summer -home of his own is obliged to look elsewhere. -As a consequence cottages have sprung -up all along the line of our coast, from the farthest -confines of Maine to New Jersey, on the -shores of the lakes of the Middle West, and on -the Pacific shore. Many of these are of a simple -and attractive character, and generally they stand -in small colonies, large enough for companionship -and not too large for relaxation. With the -similar double purpose of obtaining an attractive -summer home at a reasonable price, and of avoiding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -the stock watering-place, city families are -utilizing also the abandoned farm. There is not -room for us all on the sea-coast; besides those -of us whose winter homes are there are more -likely to need inland or mountain air. There are -thousands of beautiful country spots, many of -them not so very far from our homes, where the -run-down farm can be redeemed, if not to supply -milk and butter, at least to afford a picturesque -shelter and a lovely landscape during the -season when we wish to be out of doors as much -as possible. A very few changes, a very little -painting and refurnishing will usually transform -the farm-house itself into just the sort of establishment -which a family seeking rest and quiet -recreation ought to delight in. You may bring -mosquito-frames for the windows if you like, and -you must certainly test the well-water. Then -swing your hammock between two apple-trees -and thank Providence that you are not like so -many of your friends and acquaintances, working -the tread-mill of society in the dog-days.</p> - -<p>Of course most men who have homes of this -description at a distance cannot be with their -families all the time. But, on the other hand, the -conviction that a busy man can do better work in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -ten or eleven months than in twelve, is gaining -ground, and most of us, if we only choose to, can -slip away for at least three weeks. Many of the -demands of modern civilization on the family -purse cannot be resisted without leaving the husband -and parent a little depressed; but it seems -to me that a serious item of expense may be -avoided, and yet all the genuine benefits and -pleasures of a change of scene and atmosphere be -obtained, if we only dismiss from our minds the -idea of living otherwise than simply. A little -house with very little in it, with a modest piazza, -a skiff or sail-boat which does not pretend to be a -yacht, a garden hoe and rake, a camera, books and -a hammock, a rod which is not too precious or -costly to break, one nag of plebeian blood and -something to harness him to, rabbits in the barn -and sunflowers in the garden, a walk to sunset -hill and a dialogue with the harvest moon—why -should we not set our summer life to such a tune, -rather than hanker for the neighborhood of the -big steam-yacht and polo-ground, for the fringe -of the fashionable bathing beach, for the dust of -the stylish equipage, and try in our several ways, -and beyond our means, to follow the pace which -is set for us by others?</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Summer Problem</i>.</h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-w-1.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Why? Largely on account of that -newly created species, the American -girl. From solicitude for her happiness -and out of deference to her -wishes. Many a father and mother would be delighted -to pass the summer on an abandoned -farm or in any other spot where it were possible -to live simply and to be cool, comfortable, and -lazy, but for fear of disappointing their young -people—principally their daughters, who, unlike -the sons, cannot yet come and go at will. -Feminine youth has its inherent privileges everywhere, -but the gentle sway which it exercises in -other civilizations has become almost a sour tyranny -here. Was there ever an American mother -who knew anything portrayed in fiction? The -American daughter is commonly presented as a -noble-souled, original creature, whose principal -mission in life, next to or incidental to refusing -the man who is not her choice, is to let her own -parents understand what weak, ignorant, foolish, -unenlightened persons they are in comparison -with the rising generation—both parents in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -some measure, but chiefly and utterly the mother. -She is usually willing to concede that her -father has a few glimmering ideas, and a certain -amount of sense—horse business sense, not very -elevating or inspiring—yet something withal. -But she looks upon her poor dear mother as a -feeble-minded individual of the first water. What -we read in contemporary fiction in this realistic -age is apt to be photographed from existing conditions. -The newly created species of our homes -does not always reveal these sentiments in so -many words; indeed she is usually disposed to -conceal from her parents as far as possible their -own shortcomings, believing often, with ostrich-like -complacency, that they have no idea what -she really thinks of them. Quite frequently late -in life it dawns upon her that they were not such -complete imbeciles as she had adjudged them, -and she revises her convictions accordingly. But -often she lives superior to the end.</p> - -<p>It would be an excellent thing for the American -girl if her eyes could be definitely opened to -the fact that her parents, particularly her mother, -are much more clever than she supposes, and that -they are really her best counsellors. But on the -other hand, is not the American mother herself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -chiefly responsible for this attitude of loving contempt -and sweet but unfilial condescension on -the part of her own flesh and blood? It sometimes -seems as though we had fallen victims to -our reluctance to thwart our children in any way -lest we should destroy their love for us. But is -it much preferable to be loved devotedly as foolish, -weak, and amiable old things, than to be -feared a little as individuals capable of exercising -authority and having opinions of our own?</p> - -<p>This yielding, self-abnegating tendency on the -part of parents, and consequent filial tyranny, are -especially conspicuous in the case of that arch -despot, the summer girl. I admit her fascination -unreservedly, and am willing to concede that she -has run the gauntlet of criticism hurled at her by -the effete civilizations with an unblemished reputation. -Though she may have become a little -more conservative and conventional out of deference -to good taste, she is still able to be lost in -caves or stranded on islands with any young man -of her acquaintance without bringing a blush to -any cheek except that of the horror-stricken foreigner. -But having admitted this, I am obliged -to charge her with trampling on the prostrate -form of her mother from the first of July to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -first of October. She does so to a certain extent -the year round, but the summer is the crowning -season of her despotism.</p> - -<p>The first concern of the American father and -mother in making plans for the summer is to go -to some place which the children will like, and -the summer girl in particular. This is natural and -in keeping with the unselfish devotion shown by -the present generation of parents toward their -children. But it is one thing to endeavor to select -a place which will be satisfactory to one’s -eighteen-year-old daughter and another to be -sweetly hectored by that talented young woman -into going to some place selected by her of which -you entirely disapprove. And just here it is that -the American mother almost seems to be convicted -of the feebleness of intellect ascribed to -her by the newly created species. You, the father, -are just screwing your courage up to say that you -will be blessed if you will go to a summer hotel -at Narragansett Pier (or wherever it is), when -your wife, who has been cowed or cajoled by the -despot in the interim, flops completely, as the -saying is, and joins an almost tearful support to -the summer girl’s petition. And there you are. -What are you to do? Daughter and mother, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -apple of your eye and the angel of your heart, -leagued against you. Resistance becomes impossible, -unless you are ready to incur the reputation -of being a stony-hearted old curmudgeon.</p> - -<p>The summer girl invariably wishes to go where -it is gay. Her idea of enjoyment does not admit -domesticity and peaceful relaxation. She craves -to be actively amused, if not blissfully excited. -It is not strange that the tastes and sentiments of -young persons from seventeen to twenty-three -should differ considerably from those of mothers -and fathers from forty to fifty, and it speaks well -for the intelligence and unselfishness of middle-aged -parents and guardians in this country that -they so promptly recognize the legitimate claims -of youth, and even are eager to give young people -a chance to enjoy themselves before the cares -of life hedge them in. But have we not gone to -the other extreme? Is it meet that we should regard -ourselves as moribund at fifty, and sacrifice -all our own comfort and happiness in order to let -a young girl have her head, and lead a life in -summer of which we heartily disapprove? It is -not an exaggeration to state that there is a growing -disposition on the part of the rising hordes -of young men and girls to regard any one in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -society over thirty-five as a fossil and an encumbrance, -for whom, in a social sense, the grave is -yawning. It is not uncommon to hear a comely -matron of forty described as a frump by a youth -scarcely out of his teens, and every old gentleman -of thirty-nine has experienced the tactless pity -which fashionable maidens under twenty-one endeavor -to conceal in the presence of his senility.</p> - -<p>The summer girl is generally a young person -who has been a winter girl for nine months. I -am quite aware that some girls are much more -effective in summer than at any other season, and -it may be that in certain cases they appear to so -little advantage in winter that to attempt to gratify -parental inclinations at their expense would -be rank unkindness. But it is safe to allege that -the average summer girl in this country has been -doing all she ought to do in the way of dancing, -prancing, gadding, going, working, and generally -spending her vital powers in the autumn, winter, -and spring immediately preceding, and consequently -when summer comes needs, quite as -much as her parents, physical, mental, and moral -ozone. But what does she prefer to do? Whither -is she bent on leading her father by the nose -with the assistance of her mother? To various<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -places, according to her special predilection, and -the farthest limit of the parental purse. If possible, -to one of the gayest watering-places, where -she hopes to bathe, play tennis, walk, talk, and -drive during the day; paddle, stroll, or sit out during -the evening, and dance until twelve o’clock -at night two or three times a week. Else to some -much-advertised mountain cataract or lake resort, -to lead a stagnant hotel corridor and piazza -life, in the fond hope of seeing the vividly imagined -Him alight from the stage-coach some -Saturday night. Meanwhile she is one of three-score -forlorn girls who haunt the office and make -eyes at the hotel clerk. The summer girl has a -mania for the summer hotel. It seems to open -to her radiant possibilities. She kindles at the -mention of a hop in August, and if she is musical, -the tinkle of her piano playing reverberates -through the house all day until the other boarders -are driven nearly crazy. In the gloaming -after supper she flits off from the house with her -best young man of the moment, and presently -her mother is heard bleating along the piazza, -“My Dorothy has gone without her shawl, and -will catch her death a cold.”</p> - -<p>And so it goes all summer. When autumn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -comes and the leaf is about to fall, and Dorothy -returns to town, what has she to show for it? -A little tan and a callous heart, a promised winter -correspondence with the hotel clerk, new -slang, some knack at banjo-playing, and considerable -uncertainty in her mind as to whom she is -engaged to, or whether she is engaged at all. -And like as not the doctor is sent for to build -her up for the winter with cod-liver oil and quinine. -There is too much ozone at some of these -summer hotels.</p> - -<p>We cannot hope to do away wholly with either -the summer hotel or the fashionable watering-place -by the assertion of parental authority. Such -an endeavor, indeed, would on the whole be an -unjust as well as fruitless piece of virtue. The -delightful comradeship between young men and -young women, which is one of our national products, -is typified most saliently by the summer -girl and her attendant swains. Naturally she -wishes to go to some place where swains are apt -to congregate; and the swain is always in search -of her. Moreover, the summer hotel must continue -to be the summer home of thousands who, -for one reason or another, have no cottage or -abandoned farm. My plea is still the same, however.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -Why, now that the negro slave is free, and -the workingman is being legislated into peace -and plenty, and the wrongs of other women are -being righted, should not the American mother -try to burst her bonds? It would be a much -more simple matter than it seems, for, after all, -she has her own blood in her veins, and she has -only to remember what a dogmatic person she -herself was in the days of her youth. If the code -of fathers and mothers, instead of that of girls -and boys, were in force at our summer hotels -and watering-places, a very different state of affairs -would soon exist; and that, too, without -undue interference with that inherent, cherished, -and unalienable right of the American daughter, -the maiden’s choice. We must not forget that -though our civilization boasts the free exercise -of the maiden’s choice as one of the brightest -jewels in the crown of republican liberties, the -crowded condition of our divorce courts forbids -us to be too demonstrative in our self-satisfaction.</p> - -<p>It would be dire, indeed, to bore the young -person, especially the summer girl. But does it -necessarily follow that a summer home or a summer -life indicated by the parent would induce -such a disastrous result? I am advising neither a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -dungeon, a convent, nor some excruciatingly -dull spot to which no fascinating youth is likely -to penetrate. Verily, even the crowded bathing -beach may not corrupt, provided that wise motherly -control and companionship point out the -dangers and protect the forming soul, mind, and -manners, instead of allowing them to be distorted -and poisoned by the ups and downs of -promiscuous amatory summer guerilla warfare. -But may it not happen, when the maternal foot -is once firmly put down, that the summer girl -will not be so easily bored as she or her mother -fears, and will even be grateful for protection -against her own ignorance and inexperience? -Boating, sketching, riding, reading, bicycling, -travel, sewing, and photography are pastimes -which ought not to bore her, and would surely -leave her more refreshed in the autumn than continuous -gadding, dancing, and flirtation. To be a -member of a small, pleasant colony, where the -days are passed simply and lazily, yet interestingly; -where the finer senses are constantly appealed -to by the beauties of nature and the -healthful character of one’s occupations, is a -form of exile which many a summer girl would -accommodate herself to gladly if she only understood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -what it was like, and understood, moreover, -that the selection of a summer programme -had ceased to be one of her prerogatives. A determined -man who wishes to marry will discover -the object of his affections on an abandoned farm -or in the heart of the Maine woods, if he is -worth his salt. In these days of many yachts and -bicycles true love can travel rapidly, and there -is no occasion for marriageable girls to select -courting-grounds where their lovers can have -close at hand a Casino and other conveniences, -including the opportunity to flirt with their next -best Dulcineas.</p> - -<p>If the summer-time is the time in which to recuperate -and lie fallow, why should we have so -many summer schools? After the grand panjandrum -of Commencement exercises at the colleges -is over, there ought to be a pause in the -intellectual activity of the nation for at least sixty -days; yet there seems to be a considerable body -of men and women who, in spite of the fact that -they exercise their brains vigorously during the -rest of the year, insist on mental gymnastics when -the thermometer is in the eighties. These schools—chiefly -assemblies in the name of the ologies -and osophies—bring together more or less people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -more or less learned, from all over the country, -to talk at one another and read papers.</p> - -<p>Judging merely from the newspaper accounts -of their proceedings, it is almost invariably impossible -to discover the exact meaning of anything -which is uttered, but this may be due to -the absence of the regular reporters on their annual -vacations, and the consequent delegation -to tyros of the difficult duty in question. But -even assuming that the utterances of the summer -schools are both intelligible and stimulating, -would not the serious-minded men and women -concerned in them be better off lying in a hammock -under a wide-spreading beech-tree, or, if -this seems too relaxing an occupation, watching -the bathers at Narragansett Pier? There is wisdom -sometimes in sending young and very active -boys to school for about an hour a day in -summer, in order chiefly to know where they -are and to prevent them from running their legs -off; but with this exception the mental workers -in this country, male and female, young and old, -can afford to close their text-books with a bang -on July 1st, and not peep at them again until -September. Philosophy in August has much the -flavor of asparagus in January.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Case of Man</i>.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-a-1.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">A not inconsiderable portion of -the women of the United States -is inclined to regard man as a -necessary evil. Their point of -view is that he is here, and therefore -is likely, for the present at least, to remain -a formidable figure in human affairs, but that his -ways are not their ways, that they disapprove of -them and him, and that they intend to work out -their lives and salvation as independently of him -as possible. What man in the flush and prime -of life has not been made conscious of this attitude -of the modern woman? She is constantly -passing us in the street with the manner of one -haughtily and supremely indifferent. There are -women enough still who look patterns of modesty, -and yet let us feel at the same time that we -are more or less an object of interest to them; -but this particular type sails by in her trig and -often stylish costume with the air not merely of -not seeing us, but of wishing to ignore us. Her -compressed lips suggest a judgment; a judgment -born of meditated conviction which leaves no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -hope of reconsideration or exception. “You are -all substantially alike,” she seems to say, “and -we have had enough of you. Go your ways and -we will go ours.”</p> - -<p>The Mecca of the modern woman’s hopes, as -indicated by this point of view, would appear to -be the ultimate disappearance of man from the -face of the earth after the manner of the mastodon -and other brutes. Nor are her hopes balked -by physiological barriers. She is prepared to admit -that it is not obvious, as yet, how girls alone -are to be generated and boy babies given the cold -maternal shoulder; but she trusts to science and -the long results of time for a victory which will -eliminate sexual relations and all their attendant -perplexities and tragedies from the theatre of -human life.</p> - -<p>We are not so sanguine as she that the kingdom -of heaven is to be brought to pass in any so -simple and purely feminine a fashion. That is, -we men. Perhaps we are fatuous, but we see no -reason to doubt that sexual relations will continue -to the crack of doom, in spite of the perplexities -and tragedies consequent upon them; -and moreover, that man will continue to thrive -like a young bay-tree, even though she continues<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -to wear a chip on her tailor-made shoulder. -And yet at the same time we feel sober. It is not -pleasant to be regarded as brutes and to have -judgment passed upon us by otherwise attractive -women. It behooves us to scratch our heads -and ask ourselves if we can possibly merit the -haughty indifference and thinly disguised contempt -which is entertained toward us. To be -weighed in the balance and found wanting by a -serene and beautiful young person is a far from -agreeable experience. There must be something -wrong with us, and if so, what is it?</p> - -<p>Of course there was a time—and not so very -long ago—when men were tyrants and kept -women under. Nowadays the only thing denied -them in polite circles is to whisk around by -themselves after dark, and plenty of them do -that. The law is giving them, with both hands, -almost everything they ask for nearly as rapidly -as existing inequalities are pointed out, and the -right of suffrage is withheld from them only because -the majority of women are still averse to -exercising it. Man, the tyrant and highwayman, -has thrown up his arms and is allowing woman -to pick his pockets. He is not willing to have -her bore a hole in his upper lip, and drag him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -behind her with a rope, but he is disposed to -consent to any reasonable legislative changes -which she desires to have made, short of those -which would involve masculine disfigurement or -depreciation. It certainly cannot be his bullying -qualities which have attracted her disdain, for he -has given in. If woman to-day finds that the law -discriminates unjustly between her and man, she -has merely to ask for relief in sufficient numbers -to show that she is not the tool of designing -members of her own sex, in order to obtain it.</p> - -<p>Under the spur of these reflections I consulted -my wife by way of obtaining light on this problem. -“Barbara, why is it that modern women of -a certain type are so sniffy toward men? You -know what I mean; they speak to us, of course, -and tolerate us, and they love us individually -as husbands and fathers; but instead of counting -for everything, as we once did, we don’t seem to -count for anything unless it be dollars and cents. -It isn’t merely that you all talk so fast and have -so much to say without regard to us that we often -feel left out in the cold, and even hurt, but there -is a stern, relentless look on some of your faces -which makes us feel as though we had stolen the -Holy Grail. You must have noticed it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” said Barbara, with a smile. “It -doesn’t mean very much. Of course times are -not what they were. Man used to be a demigod, -now he is only a——”</p> - -<p>Barbara hesitated for a word, so I suggested, -“Only a bank.”</p> - -<p>“Let us say only a man. Only a man in the -eyes of reflective womanhood. We have caught -up and are beginning to think for ourselves. You -can’t expect us to hang on your every word and -to fall down and worship you without reservation -as we once did. Man used to be woman’s -whole existence, often to her infinite sorrow, and -now he is only part of it, just as she is only a -part of his. You go to your clubs; we go to ours; -and while you are playing cards we read or listen -to papers, some of which are not intelligible to -man. But we love you still, even though we have -ceased to worship you. There are a few, I admit, -who would like to do away with you altogether; -but they are extremists—in every revolution, -you know, there are fanatics and unreasonable -persons—but the vast majority of us have a tender -spot for you in our hearts, and regard your -case in sorrow rather than in anger—and as -probably not hopeless.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What is the matter with us?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, everything. You are a failure fundamentally. -To begin with, your theory of life is founded -on compromise. We women—the modern -woman—abhor compromise.”</p> - -<p>Although it was obvious that Barbara was trying -to tease me, I realized from her expression -that she intended to deal my sex a crucial stab -by the word compromise. I must confess that I -felt just a little uncomfortable under the white -light of scorn which radiated from her eyes, while -her general air reminded me for the first time -disagreeably of the type of modern woman to -whom I had referred.</p> - -<p>“The world progresses by compromise,” I -replied, sententiously.</p> - -<p>“Yes, like a snail.”</p> - -<p>“Otherwise it would stand still. A man thinks -so and so; another man thinks precisely opposite; -they meet each other half-way and so much is -gained.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know how they do. A man who stands -for a principle meets another man; they argue -and bluster for a few minutes, and presently they -sit down and have something to eat or drink, and -by the time they separate the man who stands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -for a principle has sacrificed all there is of it, except -a tiny scrap or shred, in order not to incommode -the man who has no principles at all; -and what is almost worse, they part seemingly -bosom friends and are apt to exchange rhetorical -protestations of mutual esteem. The modern -woman has no patience with such a way of doing -things.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose,” said I, “that two modern women -under similar circumstances would tear each other -all to pieces; there would be nothing to eat or -drink, except possibly tea and wafers, and the -floor would be covered with fragments of skin, -hair, and clothing. When they separated one -would be dead and the other maimed for life, and -the principle for which the victor stood would -be set back about a century and a half.”</p> - -<p>Barbara winced a little, but she said, “What -have you men accomplished all these years by -your everlasting compromises? If you were really -in earnest to solve the liquor problem, and the -social evil, as you call it, and all the other -abuses which exist in civilized and uncivilized -society, you would certainly have been able to do -more than you have. You have had free scope; -we haven’t been consulted; we have stood aside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -and let you have your innings; now we merely -wish to see what we can do. We shall make mistakes -I dare say; even one or two of us may be -torn to pieces or maimed for life; but the modern -woman feels that she has the courage of her -convictions and that she does not intend to let -herself be thwarted or cajoled by masculine theories. -That accounts largely for our apparent sniffiness. -I say ‘apparent,’ because we are not really -at bottom so contemptuous as we seem—even -the worst of us. I suppose you are right in declaring -that the proud, superior, and beautiful -young person of the present day is a little disdainful. -But even she is less severe than she -looks. She is simply a nineteenth-century Joan -of Arc protesting against the man of the world -and his works, asking to be allowed to lead her -life without molestation from him in a shrine of -her own tasteful yet simple construction—rooms -or a room where she can practise her calling, follow -her tastes, ambitions, or hobbies, pursue her -charities, and amuse herself without being accountable -to him. She wishes him to understand -that, though she is attractive, she does not mean -to be seduced or to be worried into matrimony -against her will, and that she intends to use her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -earnings and her property to pay her own bills -and provide for her own gratification, instead of -to defray the debts of her vicious or easy-going -male relations or admirers. There is really a long -back account to settle, so it is not surprising that -the pendulum should swing a little too far the -other way. Of course she is wrong; woman can -no more live wholly independent of man than -he of her—and you know what a helpless being -he would be without her—and the modern woman -is bound to recognize, sooner or later, that -the sympathetic companionship of women with -men is the only basis of true social progress. -Sexual affinity is stronger than the constitutions -of all the women’s clubs combined, as eight out -of ten young modern women discover to their -cost, or rather to their happiness, sooner or later. -Some brute of a man breaks into the shrine, and -before she knows it she is wheeling a baby carriage. -Even the novelist, with his or her fertile -invention, has failed to discover any really satisfactory -ending for the independent, disdainful -heroine but marriage or the grave. Spinsterhood, -even when illumined by a career, is a worthy and -respectable lot, but not alluring.”</p> - -<p>It was something to be assured by my wife<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -that the modern woman does not purpose to -abolish either maternity or men, and that, so to -speak, her bark is worse than her bite. Barbara -belongs to a woman’s club, so she must know. -We men are in such a nervous state, as a result -of what Barbara calls the revolution, that very -likely we are unduly sensitive and suspicious, and -allow our imaginations to fly off at a tangent. -Very likely, too, we are disposed to be a trifle irritable, -for when one has been accustomed for -long to sit on or club a person (literally or metaphorically, -according to one’s social status) when -she happens to express sentiments or opinions -contrary to ours, it must needs take time to get -used to the idea that she is really an equal, and -to adjust one’s ratiocinations to suit. But even -accepting as true the assurance that the forbidding -air of the modern woman does not mean -much, and that she loves us still though she has -ceased to worship us, we have Barbara’s word for -it, too, that the modern woman thinks we have -made a mess of it and that man is a failure fundamentally. -Love without respect! Sorrow rather -than anger! It sobers one; it saddens one. For -we must admit that man has had free scope and -a long period in which to make the most of himself;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -and woman has not, which precludes us from -answering back, as it were, which is always more -or less of a consolation when one is brought to -bay.</p> - -<p>A tendency to compromise is certainly one of -man’s characteristics. Barbara has referred to it -as a salient fault—a vice, and perhaps it is, -though it is writ large in the annals of civilization -as conducted by man. We must at least -agree that it is not woman’s way, and that she -expects to do without it when we are no more or -are less than we are now. Probably we have been -and are too easy-going, and no one will deny that -one ought at all times to have the courage of -one’s convictions, even in midsummer and on -purely social occasions; nevertheless it would -have been trying to the nervous system and conducive -to the continuance and increase of standing -armies, had we favored the policy of shooting -at sight those whose views on the temperance -question differed from ours, or of telling the host -at whose house we had passed the evening that -we had been bored to death.</p> - -<p>If one runs over in his mind the Madame -Tussaud Gallery of masculine types, he cannot -fail to acknowledge that, in our capacity of lords<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -of creation and viceregents of Providence, we -have produced and perpetuated a number of -sorry specimens. First in the list stands the so-called -man of the world, on account of whom in -particular, according to Barbara, the nineteenth-century -Joan of Arc looks askance at our sex. -He is an old stager; he dates back very nearly, -if not completely, to the garden of Eden, and he -has always been a bugbear to woman. It is not -necessary to describe him; he has ever stood for -simply carnal interests and appetites, whether as -a satyr, a voluptuary, a wine-bibber, a glutton, -a miser, an idler, or a mere pleasure-seeker. If all -the human industries which have owed and still -owe their prosperity to his propensities were to -be obliterated, there would be a large array of -unemployed in the morning but a healthier -world. The bully, or prevailer by brute force, the -snob, the cynic, the parasite, the trimmer, and -the conceited egotist are others prominent in the -category, without regard to criminals and unvarnished -offenders against whose noxious behavior -men have protected themselves by positive law.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, our gallery of past types -has many figures of which we have a right to be -proud. Unfortunately we are barred again from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -comparison or answering back by the taunt that -woman has never had a chance; nevertheless we -may claim for what it is worth that, in the realm -of intellect or of the spirit, there have been no -women who have soared so high; seers, poets, -law-givers, unfolders of nature’s secrets, administrators -of affairs, healers and scholars have been -chiefly or solely men. If some of us have fraternized -with Belial, others have walked, or sought -to walk, with God no less genuinely and fervently -than any woman who ever breathed. In the matter -of spirituality, indeed, some of us in the past -having been led to believe that women knew -more about the affairs of the other world than -men, sought to cultivate the spindle-legged, -thin-chested, pale, anæmic Christian as the type -of humanity most acceptable to God and serviceable -to society; but we have gone back to -the bishop of sturdy frame and a reasonably -healthy appetite as a more desirable mediator -between ourselves and heaven.</p> - -<p>From the standpoint of our present inquiry, -what man in his various types has been in the -past is less pertinent than what he is at present. -To begin with, certainly the modern man is not -a picturesque figure. He no longer appeals to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -feminine or any eye by virtue of imposing apparel -or accoutrements. Foreign army officers -and servants in livery are almost the only males -who have not exchanged plumage for sober -woollens, tweeds, or serges, and the varied resplendent -materials and colors by means of -which men used to distinguish themselves from -one another and to negative their evil-doings in -the eyes of women have been discarded. All men -but one look alike to any woman, and even that -one is liable to be confounded with the rest of -mankind when he is more than half a block away.</p> - -<p>Nor is the homogeneous tendency limited to -clothes; it includes manners, morals, and point -of view. The extreme types approximate each -other much more closely than formerly, and apart -from criminals and deliberately evil-minded persons, -women have some ground for their insinuation -that we are all pretty much alike. Let it be -said that this effect is in one sense a feather in -our caps. The nineteenth-century Joan of Arc -to the contrary notwithstanding, the modern man -of the world is a manifest improvement on his -predecessor. He is no longer to be found under -the table after dinner as a social matter of course, -and three-bottles-to-a-guest festivities have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -ceased to be an aristocratic function. Though on -occasions still he will fumble with the latch-key, -he mounts the stairs very little, if at all, after -midnight with the nonchalance of self-congratulatory -sobriety, and all those dire scenes of woman -on the staircase with a lighted candle looking -down at her prostrate lord and master belong to -an almost dim past. True it may be that the man -of the world fears God no more than formerly, -but he has learned to have a wholesome dread -of Bright’s disease, the insane asylum, and those -varied forms of sudden and premature death -which are included under the reportorial head -of heart-failure. Mere brutishness in its various -forms is less apparent. The coarse materialist still -swaggers in public places and impudently puffs -a cigar in the face of modesty, but he serves no -longer as a model for envious contemporaries or -an object of hero-worship to the rising generation. -Good taste, if nothing better, has checked -man’s tendencies to make a beast of himself in -public or in private.</p> - -<p>Similarly, also, the type of man to whom we -look up most proudly and confidently to-day is -not altogether the same. The model whom we -were urged, and whom we sought of old to imitate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -was he who wrestled with God on the -mountain-top, without a thought of earth’s -smoke and din and wretchedness. Human life -and its joys and interests served for him as a -homily on vanity, or was regarded as a degradation -in comparison with the revelations obtained -by the priest, poet, or devotee of culture -through the vista of aspiring imagination or zeal. -The conservative man of affairs—vigorous, far-seeing, -keenly alive to the joys and interests of -this life, strongly sympathetic on the humanitarian -side, a man of the world withal in a reasonable -sense—has impressed his personality on -modern society more successfully than any other -type. The priest who cares not for his fellow-man, -the poet whose dreams and visions include no -human interest or passion, the devotee of culture -who refines merely to refine, have been superseded, -and in their stead we have the man of the -world who is interested in the world and for the -world.</p> - -<p>This change in the avowed aims and aspirations -of man has not been without certain apparently -melancholy results and manifestations of -which society is feeling the effect at present, and -which if allowed to prevail too far will undo us.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -The removal of the gaze of the priest, poet, and -devotee of culture from the stars in contempt of -earth, and the substitution of earth-gazing as a -method for understanding the stars, has seemed -to cast a damper on human imagination and has -thereby caused many excellent women and some -men to weep. If materialism be the science of -trying to get the most out of this life, this is a -material age; but at the same time it should be -remembered that man in this age has ceased for -the first time to be either a hypocrite or a fool. -Undoubtedly the process of becoming both sincere -and sensible, especially as it has substituted -concern for the ignorant, the oppressed, and the -vicious of this earth about whom we know next -to nothing, in place of Pre-Raphaelite heavenly -choirs, alabaster halls, and saints in glory about -whom we thought we knew everything, has been -a little trying for the rest of us as well as for the -priests, poets, and devotees of culture. But the -women must not be discouraged; we shall grow -to the situation in time, and even the poets, who -seem to be most down in the mouth at present, -will sooner or later find a fresh well of inspiration -by learning to study the reflection of the stars on -the earth instead of looking directly at them. Let<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> -them be patient, though it be to death, and some -day through others, if not through themselves, -the immortal verse will flow and the immortal -lyre sound again.</p> - -<p>Undoubtedly the modern man is at present a -rather trying person to woman, for woman would -have been glad, now that she is coming into -her kingdom, to have him more of a crusader -and less of a philosopher. To behold him lacking -in picturesqueness and a philosopher addicted -to compromise into the bargain is almost -irritating to her, and she has certainly some -ground for criticism. The man who sits opposite -to her at the breakfast-table, even after he -has overcome conservative fears of nothing to -live on and dawdled into matrimony, is a lovable -but not especially exciting person. He eats, -works, and sleeps, does most of the things which -he ought to do and leaves undone a commendable -number of the things which he ought not to -do, and is a rather respectable member of society -of the machine-made order. He works very hard -to supply her with money; he is kind to her and -the children; he gives her her head, as he calls -it; and he acquiesces pleasantly enough in the -social plans which she entertains for herself and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -him, and ordinarily he is sleepy in the evening. -Indeed, in moments of most serious depression -she is tempted to think of him as a superior -chore-man, a comparison which haunts her even -in church. She would like, with one fell swoop -of her broom, to clear the world of the social -evil, the fruit of the grape, tobacco, and playing -cards, to introduce drastic educational reforms -which would, by kindergarten methods, familiarize -every one on earth with art and culture, and -to bring to pass within five, or possibly six years, -a golden age of absolute reform inspired and established -by woman. Life for her at present -means one vast camp of committee meetings, -varied only by frequent cups of tea; and that -steaming beverage continues prominent in her -radiant vision of the coming millennium. No -wonder it disconcerts and annoys her to find so -comparatively little enthusiastic confidence in -the immediate success of her fell swoop, and to -have her pathway blocked by grave or lazy ifs -and buts and by cold contradictions of fact. No -wonder she abhors compromise; no wonder she -regards the man who goes on using tobacco and -playing cards and drinking things stronger than -tea as an inert and soulless creature.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p> - -<p>Yet smile as we may at the dull, sorry place -the world would be were the golden age of her -intention to come upon us over night like a cold -wave, is she not justified in regarding the average -custom-made man of the day as a highly -respectable, well-to-do chore-man who earns fair -wages and goes to sleep at night contented with -a good meal and a pipe? Is he not machine-made? -Sincere and wise as he is, now that his -gaze is fixed on the needs of earth, has he not -the philosophy of hygienic comfort and easy-going -conservative materialism so completely on -the brain that he is in danger of becoming ordinary -instead of just a little lower than the angels? -Let us consider him from this point of -view more in detail.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Case of Man</i>.</h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-t-2.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">The young man of the present era -on his twenty-first birthday is apt to -find himself in a very prudent and -conservative atmosphere. The difficulties -of getting on are explained to him; he -is properly assured that, though there is plenty -of room on the top benches, the occupations -and professions are crowded, if not overcrowded, -and that he must buckle down if he would succeed. -It is obvious to him that the field of adventure -and fortune-seeking in foreign or strange -places is practically exhausted. It is open to him, -to be sure, to go to the North Pole in search of -some one already there, or to study in a cage in -the jungles of Africa the linguistic value of the -howls and chatterings of wild animals; but these -are manifestly poor pickings compared with the -opportunities of the past when a considerable -portion of the globe was still uninvestigated soil, -and a reputation or treasure-trove was the tolerably -frequent reward of leaving the rut of civilized -life. It is plainly pointed out to him, too, -that to be florid is regarded as almost a mental<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -weakness in intellectual or progressive circles. -He sees the lawyer who makes use of metaphor, -bombast, and the other arts of oratory, which -used to captivate and convince, distanced in the -race for eminence by him who employs a succinct, -dispassionate, and almost colloquial form -of statement. He recognizes that in every department -of human activity, from the investigation -of disease-germs to the management of railroads, -steady, undemonstrative marshallings of -fact, and cautious, unemotional deduction therefrom -are considered the scientific and only appropriate -method. He knows that the expression -of unusual or erratic ideas will expose him to the -stigma of being a crank, a reputation which, once -acquired, sticks like pitch, and that the betrayal -of sentiment will induce conservative people to -put him on the suspected list.</p> - -<p>All this is imbibed by him as it should be, in the -interest of sincerity and sense. Under the sobering -restraint of it the young man begins to make his -way with enthusiasm and energy, but circumspectly -and deliberately. He mistrusts everything -that he cannot pick to pieces on the spot and analyze, -and though he is willing to be amused, beguiled, -or even temporarily inspired by appeals to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -his imagination or emotions, he puts his doubts or -qualms aside next morning at the behest of business. -He wishes to get on. He is determined not -to allow anything to interfere with that, and he -understands that that is to be accomplished partly -by hard work and partly by becoming a good fellow -and showing common-sense. This is excellent -reasoning until one examines too closely what is -expected of him as a good fellow, and what is required -of him in the name of common-sense.</p> - -<p>There have been good fellows in every age, -and some of them have been tough specimens. -Our good fellow is almost highly respectable. He -wishes to live as long as he can, and to let others -live as long as they can. His patron saints are -his doctor, his bank account, prudence, and general -toleration. If he were obliged to specify the -vice not covered by the statute law which he -most abhors, he would probably name slopping -over. He aims to be genial, sympathetic, and -knowing, but not obtrusively so, and he is becomingly -suspicious and reticent regarding everything -which cannot be demonstrated on a chart -like an international yacht-race or a medical operation. -He is quietly and moderately licentious, -and justifies himself satisfactorily but mournfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -on hygienic grounds or on the plea of masculine -inevitability. He works hard, if he has to, for he -wishes to live comfortably by the time he is forty, -and comfort means, as it ought to mean, an attractive -wife, an attractive establishment, and an attractive -income. An imprudent marriage seems -to him one of the most egregious forms of slopping -over. If he hears that two of his contemporaries -are engaged, his first inquiry is, “What -have they to live on?” and if the answer is unsatisfactory, -they fall a peg or two in his estimation, -and he is likely, the next time he feels mellow -after dinner, to descant on the impropriety -of bringing children into the world who may be -left penniless orphans. If he falls in love himself -before he feels that his pecuniary position warrants -it, he tries to shake out the arrow, and, if -that fails, he cuts it out deliberately under antiseptic -treatment to avoid blood-poisoning. All our -large cities are full of young men who have undergone -this operation. To lose one’s vermiform -appendix is a perilous yet blessed experience; but -this trifling with the human heart, however scientific -the excision, can scarcely be regarded as beneficial -unless we are to assume that it, like the -fashionable sac, has become rudimentary.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> - -<p>We see a great many allusions in our comic -and satiric weeklies to marrying for money, but -the good fellow of the best type ordinarily disdains -such a proceeding. His self-respect is not -offended but hugely gratified if the young woman -with whom he intends to ally himself would -be able immediately or prospectively to contribute -a million or so to the domestic purse; but -he would regard a deliberate sale of himself for -cash as a dirty piece of business. On the other -hand, he is very business-like where his heart is -engaged, and is careful not to let his emotions or -fancy get the better of him until he can see his -ship—and a well-freighted one at that—on the -near horizon. And what is to become of the -young woman in the meantime? To let concealment, -like a worm in the bud, feed on a damask -cheek may be more fatal than masculine arrow -extraction; for woman, less scientific in her methods -than man, is less able to avoid blood-poisoning. -She doses herself, probably, with anti-pyrine, -burns her Emerson and her Tennyson, -and after a period of nervous prostration devotes -herself to charity toward the world at large with -the exception of all good fellows.</p> - -<p>The good fellow after he marries continues<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -to be a good fellow. He adapts himself to the -humanitarian necessities of the situation; he becomes -fond and domestic, almost oppressively -so, and he is eager to indulge the slightest wish -or fancy of his mate, provided it be within the -bounds of easy-going rationalism. The conjugal -pliability of the American husband is a well-recognized -original feature of our institutions, -nevertheless he is apt to develop kinks unless he -be allowed to be indulgent and companionable -in his own way. He works harder than ever, and -she for whose sake he is ostensibly toiling is encouraged -to make herself fetching and him comfortable -as progressively as his income will permit. -When the toil of the week is over he looks -for his reward in the form of a Welsh-rarebit -with theatrical celebrities, a little game of poker -within his means, or, if he be musical, a small -gathering of friends to sing or play, if possible -in a so-called Bohemian spirit. It irks him to -stand very upright or to converse for long, -whether in masculine or feminine society. He -likes to sprawl and to be entertained with the -latest bit of humor, but he is willing, on a pleasant -Sunday or holiday, to take exercise in order -to perspire freely, and then to lie at ease under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -a tree or a bank, pleasantly refreshed with beer -and tobacco, and at peace with the world. He -prefers to have her with him everywhere, except -at the little game of poker, and is conscious of -an aching void if she be not at hand to help him -recuperate, philosophize, and admire the view. -But he expects her to do what he likes, and expects -her to like it too.</p> - -<p>In no age of the world has the reasoning power -of man been in better working order than at -present. With all due respect to the statistics -which show that the female is beginning to outstrip -the male in academic competitive examinations, -one has only to keep his ears and eyes open -in the workaday world in order to be convinced -that man’s purely mental processes suggest a razor -and woman’s a corkscrew. The manager of -corporate interests, the lawyer, the historian, the -physician, the chemist, and the banker seek to-day -to probe to the bottom that which they -touch, and to expose to the acid of truth every -rosy theory and seductive prospectus. This is in -the line of progress; but to be satisfied with this -alone would speedily reduce human society to -the status of a highly organized racing stable. -If man is to be merely a jockey, who is to ride<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -as light as he can, there is nothing to be said; -but even on that theory is it not possible to train -too fine? With eloquence tabooed as savoring -of insincerity, with conversation as a fine art -starved to death, with melody in music sniffed -at as sensational, and fancy in literature condemned -as unscientific, with the loosening of all -the bonds of conventionality which held civilization -to the mark in matters of taste and elegance, -and with a general doing away with color -and emotion in all the practical affairs of life out -of regard to the gospel of common-sense and machine-made -utility, the jockey now is riding practically -in his own skin.</p> - -<p>One has to go back but a little way in order -to encounter among the moving spirits of society -a radically different attitude. Unquestionably the -temper of the present day is the result of a vigorous -reaction against false or maudlin sentiment, -florid drivel, and hypocritical posturing; but certainly -a Welsh-rarebit at midnight, with easy-going -companions, is a far remove as a spiritual -stimulus from bread eaten in tears at the same -hour. As has been intimated, this exaggeration -of commonplaceness will probably right itself in -time, but man’s lack of susceptibility to influences<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -and impressions which cannot be weighed, -fingered, smelt, looked at, or tasted, seems to -justify at present the strictures of the modern -woman, who, with all her bumptiousness, would -fain continue to reverence him. Some in the van -of feminine progress would be glad to see the -inspiration and direction of all matters—spiritual, -artistic, and social—apportioned to woman -as her sole rightful prerogative, and consequently -to see man become veritably a superior chore-man. -Fortunately the world of men and women -is likely to agree with Barbara that mutual sympathy -and co-operation in these matters between -the sexes are indispensable to the healthy development -of human society.</p> - -<p>But even assuming that women were ready to -accept the responsibility and men were willing -to renounce it, I, for one, fear that civilization -would find itself in a ditch rather speedily. All -of us—we men, I mean—recognize the purifying -and deterrent influence of woman as a Mentor -and sweet critic at our elbows. We have -learned to depend upon her to prod us when we -lag, and to save us from ourselves when our -brains get the better of our hearts. But, after all, -woman is a clinging creature. She has been used<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -to playing second fiddle; and it is quite a different -affair to lead an orchestra. To point the way -to spiritual or artistic progress needs, first of all, -a clear intellect and a firm purpose, even though -they alone are not sufficient. Woman is essentially -yielding and impressionable. At the very -moment when the modern Joan of Arc would -be doing her best to make the world a better -place, would not eleven other women out of the -dozen be giving way to the captivating plausibility -of some emotional situation?</p> - -<p>As an instance of what she is already capable -of from a social point of view, now that she has -been given her head, may well be cited the feverish -eagerness with which some of the most highly -cultivated and most subtly evolved American -women of our large cities vie with each other for -intimacy with artistic foreign lions of their own -sex known to be unchaste. They seem to regard -it as a privilege to play hostess to, or, at least, -to be on familiar terms with, actresses, opera-singers, -and other public characters quietly but -notoriously erotic, the plea in each case being -that they are ready to forgive, to forget, and ignore -for the sake of art and the artist. Yes, ignore -or forget, if you choose, so far as seeing the artist<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -act or hearing her sing in public is concerned, -where there are no social ceremonies or intercourse; -but let us please remember at the same -time that even those effete nations who believe -that the world would be a dull place without -courtesans, insist on excluding such persons -from their drawing-rooms. Indeed there is reason -to believe that some of the artists in question -have become hilarious, when out of sight -of our hospitable shores, over the wonders of -American social usages among the pure and cultivated -women. Before our young men will cease -to sow wild oats their female relations must -cease to run after other men’s mistresses. Decidedly, -the modern Joan of Arc to the contrary -notwithstanding, man cannot afford to abdicate -just yet. But he needs to mend his hedges and -to look after his preserves.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Case of Woman</i>.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-a-3.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">A great many men, who are -sane and reasonable in other -matters, allow themselves, on -the slightest provocation, to be -worked up into a fever over the -aspirations of woman. They decline to listen to -argument, grow red in the face, and saw the air -with their hands, if they do not pound on the -table, to express their views on the subject—which, -by the way, are as out of date and old-fashioned -as a pine-tree shilling. They remind -one of the ostrich in that they seem to imagine, -because they have buried their heads in the sand, -nothing has happened or is happening around -them. They confront the problem of woman’s -emancipation as though it were only just being -broached instead of in the throes of delivery.</p> - -<p>For instance, my friend, Mr. Julius Cæsar, who -though a conservative, cautious man by nature, is -agreeably and commendably liberal in other matters, -seems to be able to see only one side of this -question. And one side seems to be all he wishes -to see. “Take my wife,” he said to me the other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -day; “as women go she is a very clever and sensible -woman. She was given the best advantages in -the way of school-training open to young ladies of -her day; she has accomplishments, domestic virtues, -and fine religious instincts, and I adore her. -But what does she know of politics? She couldn’t -tell you the difference between a senator and an -alderman, and her mind is practically a blank on -the tariff or the silver question. I tell you, my dear -fellow, that if woman is allowed to leave the domestic -hearth and play ducks and drakes with the -right of suffrage, every political caucus will become -a retail drygoods store. If there is one thing which -makes a philosopher despair of the future of the -race, it is to stand in a crowded drygoods store -and watch the jam of women perk and push and -sidle and grab and covet and go well-nigh crazy -over things to wear. The average woman knows -about clothes, the next world, children, and her -domestic duties. Let her stick to her sphere. A -woman at a caucus? Who would see that my dinner -was properly cooked, eh?”</p> - -<p>One would suppose from these remarks that -the male American citizen spends his days -chiefly at caucuses; whereas, as we all know when -we reflect, he goes perhaps twice a year, if he be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -a punctilious patriot like Julius Cæsar, and if not, -probably does not go at all. If the consciousness -that his wife could vote at a caucus would act as -a spur to the masculine political conscience, the -male American citizen could well afford to dine -at a restaurant on election-days, or to cook his -own food now and then.</p> - -<p>Of course, even a man with views like Julius -Cæsar would be sorry to have his wife the slavish, -dollish, or unenlightened individual which -she was apt to be before so-called women’s rights -were heard of. As he himself has proclaimed, -he adores his wife, and he is, moreover, secretly -proud of her æsthetic presentability. Without -being an advanced woman, Dolly Cæsar has the -interests of the day and hour at her fingers’ ends, -can talk intelligently on any subject, whether she -knows anything about it or not, and is decidedly -in the van, though she is not a leader. Julius -does not take into account, when he anathematizes -the sex because of its ambitions, the difference -between her and her great-grandmother. -He believes his wife to be a very charming specimen -of what a woman ought to be, and that, -barring a few differences of costume and hair arrangement, -she is practically her great-grandmother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -over again. Fatuous Julius! There is -where he is desperately in error. Dolly Cæsar’s -great-grandmother may have been a radiant -beauty and a famous housekeeper, but her brain -never harbored one-tenth of the ideas and opinions -which make her descendant so attractive.</p> - -<p>Those who argue on this matter like Julius -Cæsar fail to take into account the gradual, silent -results of time; and this is true of the results to -come as well as those which have accrued. When -the suffrage question is mooted one often hears -sober men, more dispassionate men than Julius—Perkins, -for instance, the thin, nervous lawyer -and father of four girls, and a sober man -indeed—ask judicially whether it is possible for -female suffrage to be a success when not one -woman in a thousand would know what was expected -of her, or how to vote. “I tell you,” says -Perkins, “they are utterly unfitted for it by training -and education. Four-fifths of them wouldn’t -vote if they were allowed to, and every one -knows that ninety-nine women out of every -hundred are profoundly ignorant of the matters -in regard to which they would cast their ballots. -Take my daughters; fine girls, talented, intelligent -women—one of them a student of history;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -but what do they know of parties, and platforms, -and political issues in general?”</p> - -<p>Perkins is less violently prejudiced than Julius -Cæsar. He neither saws the air nor pounds on -the table. Indeed, I have no doubt he believes -that he entertains liberal, unbiassed views on the -subject. I wonder, then, why it never occurs to -him that everything which is new is adopted -gradually, and that the world has to get accustomed -to all novel situations. I happened to see -Mr. Perkins the first time he rode a bicycle on -the road, and his performance certainly justified -the prediction that he would look like a guy to -the end of his days, and yet he glides past me -now with the ease and nonchalance of a possible -“scorcher.” Similarly, if women were given universal -suffrage, there would be a deal of fluttering -in the dove-cotes for the first generation or so. -Doubtless four-fifths of womankind would refuse -or neglect to vote at all, and at least a quarter -of those who went to the polls would cast their -ballots as tools or blindly. But just so soon as it -was understood that it was no less a woman’s -duty to vote than it was to attend to her back -hair, she would be educated from that point of -view, and her present crass ignorance of political<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -matters would be changed into at least a form of -enlightenment. Man prides himself on his logic, -but there is nothing logical in the argument that -because a woman knows nothing about anything -now, she can never be taught. If we have been -content to have her remain ignorant for so many -centuries, does it not savor both of despotism and -lack of reasonableness to cast her ignorance in -her teeth and to beat her about the head with -it now that she is eager to rise? Decidedly it is -high time for the man who orates tempestuously -or argues dogmatically in the name of conservatism -against the cause of woman on such flimsy -pleas as these, to cease his gesticulations and wise -saws. The modern woman is a potential reality, -who is bound to develop and improve, in another -generation or two, as far beyond the present -interesting type as Mrs. Julius Cæsar is an -advance on her great-grandmother.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, why do those who have -woman’s cause at heart lay such formal stress on -the right of the ballot as a factor in her development? -There can be no doubt that, if the majority -of women wish to vote on questions involving -property or political interests, they will -be enabled to do so sooner or later. It is chiefly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -now the conviction in the minds of legislatures -that a large number of the intelligent women of -their communities do not desire to exercise the -right of suffrage which keeps the bars down. -Doubtless these bodies will yield one after another -to the clamor of even a few, and the experiment -will be tried. It may not come this year -or the next, but many busy people are so certain -that its coming is merely a question of time -that they do not allow themselves to be drawn -into the fury of the fray. When it comes, however, -it will come as a universal privilege, and -not with a social or property qualification. I mention -this simply for the enlightenment of those -amiable members of the sex to be enfranchised -who go about sighing and simpering in the interest -of drawing the line. That question was -settled a century ago. The action taken may have -been an error on the part of those who framed -the laws, but it has been settled forever. There -would be no more chance of the passage by the -legislature of one of the United States of a statute -giving the right of suffrage to a limited class of -women than there would be of one prescribing -that only the good-looking members of that sex -should be allowed to marry.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> - -<p>Many people, who believe that woman should -be denied no privilege enjoyed by man which she -really desires to exercise, find much difficulty in -regarding the right of suffrage as the vital end -which it assumes in the minds of its advocates. -One would suppose, by the clamor on the subject, -that the ballot would enable her to change her -spots in a twinkling, and to become an absolutely -different creation. Lively imaginations do not -hesitate to compare the proposed act of emancipation -with the release of the colored race from -bondage. We are appealed to by glowing rhetoric -which celebrates the equity of the case and -the moral significance of the impending victory. -But the orators and triumphants stop short at the -passage of the law and fail to tell us what is to -come after. We are assured, indeed, that it will -be all right, and that woman’s course after the -Rubicon is crossed will be one grand march of -progress to the music of the spheres; but, barring -a pæan of this sort, we are given no light as -to what she intends to do and become. She has -stretched out her hand for the rattle and is determined -to have it, but she does not appear to -entertain any very definite ideas as to what she -is going to do with it after she has it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> - -<p>Unquestionably, the development of the modern -woman is one of the most interesting features -of civilization to-day. But is it not true that the -cause of woman is one concern, and the question -of woman suffrage another? And are they not too -often confounded, even deliberately confounded, -by those who are willing to have them appear -to be identical? Supposing that to-morrow the -trumpet should sound and the walls of Jericho -fall, and every woman be free to cast her individual -ballot without let or hindrance from one -confine of the civilized world to another, what -would it amount to after all by way of elucidating -the question of her future evolution? For it must -be remembered that, apart from the question of -her development in general, those who are clamoring -for the ballot have been superbly vague so -far as to the precise part which the gentle sex is -to play in the political arena after she gets her -rattle. They put their sisters off with the general -assertion that things in the world, politically -speaking, will be better, but neither their sisters -nor their brothers are able to get a distinct notion -of the platform on which woman means to stand -after she becomes a voter. Is she going to enter -into competition with men for the prizes and offices,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -to argue, manipulate, hustle, and do generally -the things which have to be done in the -name of political zeal and activity? Is it within -the vista of her ambition to become a member of, -and seek to control, legislative bodies, to be a -police commissioner or a member of Congress? -Those in the van decline to answer, or at least -they do not answer. It may be, to be sure, the -wisdom of the serpent which keeps them non-committal, -for they stand, as it were, between the -devil and the deep sea in that, though they and -their supporters would perhaps like to declare -boldly in favor of competition, or at least participation, -in the duties and honors, they stand -in wholesome awe of the hoarse murmur from -the ranks of their sisters, “We don’t wish to be -like men, and we have no intention of competing -with them on their own lines.” Accordingly, the -leaders seek refuge in the safe but indefinite assertion -that of course women will never become -men, but they have thus far neglected to tell us -what they are to become.</p> - -<p>It really seems as though it were time for woman, -in general congress of the women’s clubs -assembled, to make a reasonably full and clear -statement of her aims and principles—a declaration<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -of faith which shall give her own sex and -men the opportunity to know precisely what she -is driving at. Her progress for the last hundred -years has been gratifying to the world, with the -exception of pig-headed or narrow-minded men, -and civilization has been inestimably benefitted -by the broadening of her intelligence and her interests. -But she has now reached a point where -there is a parting of the ways, and the world -would very much like to know which she intends -to take. The atmosphere of the women’s -clubs is mysterious but unsuggestive, and consequently -many of us feel inclined to murmur -with the poet, “it is clever, but we don’t know -what it means.” Unrepressed nervous mental -activity easily becomes social affectation or tomfoolery, -in the absence of a controlling aim or -purpose. To exhaust one’s vitality in papers or -literary teas, merely to express or simulate individual -culture or freedom, may not land one in -an insane asylum, but it is about as valuable to -society, as an educating force, as the revolutions -of the handle of a freezer, when the crank is off, -are valuable to the production of ice-cream. For -the benefit of such a congress, if haply it should -be called together later, it will not be out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -place to offer a few suggestions as to her future -evolution. In this connection it seems to me imperative -to go back to the original poetic conception -of woman as the wife and mother, the -domestic helpmate and loving, self-abnegating -companion of man. Unedifying as this formula -of description may seem to the active-minded -modern woman, it is obvious that under existing -physiological conditions she must remain -the wife and mother, even though she declines -to continue domestic, loving, and self-abnegating. -And side by side with physiological conditions -stands the intangible, ineffable force of -sexual love, the poetic, entrancing ecstasy which -no scientist has yet been able to reduce to a -myth or to explode. Schopenhauer, to be sure, -would have us believe that it is merely a delusion -by which nature seeks to reproduce herself, but -even on this material basis the women’s clubs -find themselves face to face with an enemy more -determined than any Amazon. A maid deluded -becomes the sorriest of club members.</p> - -<p>What vision of life is nobler and more exquisite -than that of complete and ideal marital happiness? -To find it complete and ideal the modern -woman, with all her charms and abilities,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> -must figure in it, I grant; the mere domestic -drudge; the tame, amiable house-cat; the doting -doll, are no longer pleasing parties of the second -part. To admit so much as this may seem to offer -room for the argument that the modern woman -of a hundred years hence will make her of -the poet’s dream of to-day appear no less pitiable; -but there we men are ready to take issue. -We admit our past tyranny, we cry “Peccavi,” -yet we claim at the same time that, having taken -her to our bosoms as our veritable, loving companion -and helpmate, there is no room left, or -very little room left, for more progress in that -particular direction. Her next steps, if taken, will -be on new lines, not by way of making herself -an equal. And therefore it is that we suggest the -vision of perfect modern marital happiness as -the leading consideration to be taken into account -in dealing with this question. Even in the -past, when woman was made a drudge and encouraged -to remain a fool, the poetry and joy and -stimulus of life for her, as well as for her despot -mate, lay in the mystery of love, its joys and responsibilities. -Even then, if her life were robbed -of the opportunity to love and be loved, its savor -was gone, however free she might be from masculine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -tyranny and coercion. Similarly, after -making due allowance for the hyperbole as to -the influence which woman has on man when he -has made up his mind to act to the contrary, -there is no power which works for righteousness -upon him comparable to the influence of -woman. There is always the possibility that the -woman a man loves may not be consciously -working for righteousness, but the fact that he -believes so is the essential truth, even though -he be the victim of self-delusion. This element -of the case is pertinent to the question whether -woman would really try to reform the world, if -she had the chance, rather than to this particular -consideration. The point of the argument is -that the dependence of each sex on the other, -and the loving sympathy between them, which -is born of dissimilarity, is the salt of human life. -The eternal feminine is what we prize in woman, -and wherever she deflects from this there does -her power wane and her usefulness become impaired. -And conversely, the more and the higher -she advances along the lines of her own nature, -the better for the world. Nor does the claim that -she has been hampered hitherto, and consequently -been unable to show what her attributes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -really are, seem relevant; for it is only when she -develops in directions which threaten to clash -with the eternal feminine that she encounters -opposition or serious criticism. And here even -the excitability and unreasonableness of such -men as our friend Julius Cæsar find a certain justification. -Their fumes and fury, however unintelligent, -proceed from an instinctive repugnance -to the departure or deviation from nature which -they find, or fear to find, in the modern woman. -Once let them realize that there was no danger -of anything of the kind, and they would become -gentle as doves, if not all smiles and approval.</p> - -<p>There is no more beautiful and refining influence -in the world than that of an attractive and -noble woman. Unselfishness, tenderness, aspiring -sentiment, long-suffering devotion, grace, -tact, and quickly divining intelligence are her -prerogatives, and she stands an ever-watchful -guardian angel at the shoulder of man. The leading -poetic and elevating associations of life are -linked with her name. The lover’s passion, the -husband’s worship, the son’s reverential affection -are inspired by her. The strong man stays his -hand and sides with mercy or honor when his -mother speaks within him. In homelier language,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -she is the keeper of the hearth and home, the -protector and trainer of her children, the adviser, -consoler, and companion of her husband, father, -son, brother, or other masculine associates.</p> - -<p>Now, the modern woman, up to this point, -has been disposed, on the whole, to regard this -as the part which she is to play in the drama of -life. At least she has not materially deviated from -it. Her progress has been simply in the way of -enabling her to play that part more intelligently -and worthily, and not toward usurpation, excepting -that she claims the right to earn her daily -bread. Higher education in its various branches -has been the most signal fruit of her struggle for -enlightenment and liberty, and this is certainly -in entire keeping with the eternal feminine, and -to-day seems indispensable to her suitable development. -By means of education similar to -that lavished upon man she has been enabled, it -is true, to obtain employment of various kinds -hitherto withheld from her, but the positions of -professor, teacher, nurse, artist, and clerk, are -amplifications of her natural aptitudes rather than -encroachments. She has, however, finally reached -the stage where she will soon have to decide whether -the hearth and the home or down-town is to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -be the principal theatre of her activity and influence. -Is she or is she not to participate with man -in the tangible, obvious management of the affairs -of the world?</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Case of Woman</i>.</h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-t-3.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">The mystic oracles of the women’s -clubs do not give a straightforward -answer to this question. Yet there are -mutterings, mouthings, and signs -from them which tend to arouse masculine suspicions. -To use a colloquialism, woman fancies -herself very much at present, and she spends considerable -time in studying the set of her mind in -the looking-glass. And her serenity is justified. -In spite of ridicule, baiting, and delay for several -generations, she has demonstrated her ability and -fitness to do a number of things which we had -adjudged her incapable of doing. She can almost -take care of herself in the street after dark. She -has become a most valuable member of committees -to ameliorate the condition of the poor, the -sick, and the insane. She has become the president -and professors of colleges founded in her -behalf. The noble and numerous army of teachers, -typewriters, salesladies, nurses, and women -doctors (including Christian Scientists), stands -as ample proof of her intention and capacity to -strike out for herself. No wonder, perhaps, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -she is a little delirious and mounted in the head, -and that she is tempted to exclaim, “Go to, I will -do more than this. Why should I not practise -law, and sell stocks, wheat, corn, and exchange, -control the money markets of the world, administer -trusts, manage corporations, sit in Congress, -and be President of the United States?”</p> - -<p>The only things now done by man which the -modern woman has not yet begun to cast sheep’s -eyes at are labor requiring much physical strength -and endurance, and military service. She is prepared -to admit that she can never expect to be so -muscular and powerful in body as man. But this -has become rather a solace than a source of perplexity -to her. Indeed, the women’s clubs are -beginning to whisper under their breath, “Man -is fitted to build and hew and cut and lift, and to -do everything which demands brute force. We -are not. We should like to think, plan, and execute. -Let him do the heavy work. If he wishes -to fight he may. Wars are wicked, and we shall -vote against them and refuse to take part in -them.”</p> - -<p>If woman is going in for this sort of thing, of -course she needs the ballot. If she intends to -manage corporations and do business generally,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -she ought to have a voice in the framing of the -laws which manifest the policy of the state. But -to earn one’s living as a college professor, nurse, -typewriter, saleslady, or clerk, or to sit on boards -of charity, education, or hygiene, is a far remove -from becoming bank presidents, merchants, -judges, bankers, or members of Congress. The -one affords the means by which single women can -earn a decent and independent livelihood, or devote -their energies to work useful to society; the -other would necessitate an absolute revolution -in the habits, tastes, interests, proclivities, and -nature of woman. The noble army of teachers, -typewriters, nurses, and salesladies are in the -heels of their boots hoping to be married some -day or other. They have merely thrown an -anchor to windward and taken up a calling which -will enable them to live reasonably happy if the -right man does not appear, or passes by on the -other side. Those who sit on boards, and who -are more apt to be middle-aged, are but interpreting -and fulfilling the true mission of the modern -woman, which is to supplement and modify -the point of view of man, and to extend the kind -of influence which she exercises at home to the -conduct of public interests of a certain class.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> - -<p>Now, some one must keep house. Some one -must cook, wash, dust, sweep, darn, look after -the children, and in general grease the wheels of -domestic activity. If women are to become merchants, -and manage corporations, who will bring -up our families and manage the home? The majority -of the noble army referred to are not able -to escape from making their own beds and cooking -their own breakfasts. If they occupied other -than comparatively subordinate positions they -would have to call Chinatown to the rescue; for -the men would decline with thanks, relying on -their brute force to protect them, and the other -women would toss their heads and say “Make -your own beds, you nasty things. We prefer to -go to town too.” In fact the emancipation of -women, so far as it relates to usurpation of the -work of man, does not mean much in actual -practice yet, in spite of the brave show and bustle -of the noble army. The salesladies get their -meals somehow, and the domestic hearth is still -presided over by the mistress of the house and -her daughters. But this cannot continue to be -the case if women are going to do everything -which men do except lift weights and fight. For -we all know that our mothers, wives, and sisters,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -according to their own affidavits, have all they -can do already to fulfil the requirements of modern -life as mothers, wives, and sisters in the conventional -yet modern sense. Many of them tell -us that they would not have time to vote, to say -nothing of qualifying themselves to vote. Indisputably -they cannot become men and yet remain -women in the matter of their daily occupations, -unless they discover some new panacea against -nervous prostration. The professions are open; -the laws will allow them to establish banks and -control corporate interests; but what is to become -of the eternal feminine in the pow-wow, -bustle, and materializing rush and competition of -active business life? Whatever a few individuals -may do, there seems to be no immediate or probably -eventual prospect of a throwing off by woman -of domestic ties and duties. Her physical -and moral nature alike are formidable barriers -in the way.</p> - -<p>Why, then, if women are not going to usurp -or share to any great extent the occupations of -men, and become familiar with the practical workings -of professional, business, and public affairs, -are they ever likely to be able to judge so intelligently -as men as to the needs of the state? To<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> -hear many people discuss the subject, one would -suppose that all the laws passed by legislative -bodies were limited to questions of ethics and -morality. If all political action were reduced to -debates and ballots on the use of liquor, the social -evil, and other moral or humanitarian topics, the -claim that women ought to be allowed and encouraged -to vote would be much stronger—that -is, assuming that she herself preferred to use her -influence directly instead of indirectly. But the -advocates of female suffrage seem to forget that -three-fifths of the laws passed relate to matters -remotely if at all bearing upon ethics, and involve -considerations of public policy from the point of -view of what is best for the interests of the state -and the various classes of individuals which compose -it. We do not always remember in this age -of afternoon teas and literary papers that the state -is after all an artificial body, a form of compact -under which human beings agree to live together -for mutual benefit and protection. Before culture, -æstheticism, or even ethics can be maintained -there must be a readiness and ability to fight, if -the necessity arises, and a capacity to do heavy -work. Moreover, there must be ploughed fields -and ship-yards and grain-elevators and engines<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -and manufactories, and all the divers forms and -phases of industrial and commercial endeavor and -enterprise by which men earn their daily bread. -If woman is going to participate in the material -activities of the community she will be fit to deal -with the questions which relate thereto, but otherwise -she must necessarily remain unable to form -a satisfactory judgment as to the merits of more -than one-half the measures upon which she would -be obliged to vote. Nor is it an argument in point -that a large body of men is in the same predicament. -Two evils do not make a benefit. There -is a sufficient number of men conversant with -every separate practical question which arises to -insure an intelligent examination of it. The essential -consideration is, what would the state gain, -if woman suffrage were adopted, except an enlarged -constituency of voters? What would woman, -by means of the ballot, add to the better -or smoother development of the social system -under which we live?</p> - -<p>Unless the eternal feminine is to be sacrificed -or to suffer, it seems to me that her sole influence -would be an ethical or moral one. There are certainly -strong grounds for the assumption that -she would point the way to, or at least champion,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -the cause of reforms which man has perpetually -dilly-dallied with and failed to do battle for. To -be sure, many of her most virtuous endeavors -would be likely to be focussed on matters where -indulgences and weaknesses chiefly masculine -were concerned—such as the liquor problem; -but an alliance between her vote and that of the -minority of men would probably be a blessing to -the world, even though she showed herself somewhat -a tyrant or a fanatic. Her advocacy of measures -calculated to relieve society of abuses and -curses, which have continued to afflict it because -men have been only moderately in earnest for a -change, could scarcely fail to produce valuable -results. Perhaps this is enough in itself to outweigh -the ignorance which she would bring to -bear on matters which did not involve ethical or -humanitarian principles; and it is indisputably -the most legitimate argument in favor of woman -suffrage. The notion that women ought to vote -simply because men do is childish and born of -vanity. On the other hand, if the state is to be a -gainer by her participation in the perplexities of -voting, the case takes on a very different aspect.</p> - -<p>I have been assuming that the influence of -woman would be in behalf of ethics, but my wife<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -Barbara assures me that I am thereby begging -the question. She informs me that I have too exalted -an idea of woman and her aims. She has -confided to me that, though there is a number of -noble and forceful women in every community, -the general average, though prolific of moral and -religious advice to men by way of fulfilling a sort -of traditional feminine duty, is at heart rather -flighty and less deeply interested in social progress -than my sex. This testimony, taken in connection -with the reference of Julius Cæsar to the -disillusioning effect of a crowd of women in a -drygoods store, introduces a new element into -the discussion. Frankly, my estimate of women -has always been high, and possibly unduly exalted. -It may be I have been deceived by the -moral and religious advice offered into believing -that women are more serious than they really -are. Reflection certainly does cause one to recollect -that comparatively few women like to dwell -on or to discuss for more than a few minutes any -serious subject which requires earnest thought. -They prefer to skim from one thing to another -like swallows and to avoid dry depths. Those in -the van will doubtless answer that this is due to -the unfortunate training which woman has been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -subjected to for so many generations. True, in a -measure; but ought she not, before she is allowed -to vote, on the plea of bringing benefit to the state -as an ethical adviser, to demonstrate by more -than words her ethical superiority?</p> - -<p>We all know that women drink less intoxicating -liquor than men, and are less addicted to -fleshly excesses. Yet the whole mental temper -and make-up of each sex ought to be taken into -account in comparing them together; and with -all the predisposition of a gallant and susceptible -man to say the complimentary thing, I find -myself asking the question whether the average -woman does not prefer to jog along on a -worsted-work-domestic-trusting-religious-advice-giving -basis, rather than to grapple in a serious way with -the formidable problems of living. At any rate -I, for one, before the right of suffrage is bestowed -upon her, would like to be convinced -that she as a sex is really earnest-minded. If one -stops to think, it is not easy to show that, excepting -where liquor, other women, and rigid -attendance at church are concerned, she has been -wont to show any very decided bent for, or interest -in, the great reforms of civilization—that -is, nothing to distinguish her from a well-equipped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -and thoughtful man. It is significant, -too, that where women in this country have been -given the power to vote in local affairs, they have -in several instances shown themselves to be more -solicitous for the triumph of a religious creed or -faction than to promote the public welfare.</p> - -<p>It is extremely probable, if not certain, that -the laws of all civilized states will eventually be -amended so as to give women the same voice -in the affairs of government as men. But taking -all the factors of the case into consideration, -there seems to be no pressing haste for action. -Even admitting for the sake of argument that -woman’s apparent lack of seriousness is due to -her past training, and that she is really the admirably -earnest spirit which one is lured into -believing her until he reflects, there can assuredly -be no question that the temper and proclivities -of the very large mass of women are not calculated -at present to convict man of a lack of purpose -by virtue of shining superiority in persevering -mental and moral aggressiveness. Not -merely the drygoods counter and the milliner’s -store with their engaging seductions, but the -ball-room, the fancy-work pattern, the sensational -novel, nervous prostration, the school-girl’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> -giggle, the tea-pot without food, and a host -of other tell-tale symptoms, suggest that there -is a good deal of the old Eve left in the woman -of to-day. And bless her sweet heart, Adam is -in no haste to have it otherwise. Indeed, the -eternal feminine seems to have staying qualities -which bid fair to outlast the ages.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Conduct of Life</i>.</h2> - -<h3>I.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-n.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Now that more than a century -has elapsed since our independence -as a nation was accomplished, -and we are sixty million -strong, what do we stand for in -the world? What is meant by the word American, -and what are our salient qualities as a people? -What is the contribution which we have -made or are making to the progress of society -and the advancement of civilization?</p> - -<p>There certainly used to be, and probably there -is, no such egregiously patriotic individual in the -world as an indiscriminately patriotic American, -and there is no more familiar bit of rhetoric extant -than that this is the greatest nation on earth. -The type of citizen who gave obtrusive vent to -this sentiment, both at home and abroad, is less -common than formerly; nevertheless his clarion -tones are still invariably to be heard in legislative -assemblies when any opportunity is afforded -to draw a comparison between ourselves and -other nations. His extravagant and highfalutin -boastings have undoubtedly been the occasion of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -a certain amount of seemingly lukewarm patriotism -on the part of the educated and more intelligent -portion of the American public, an attitude -which has given foreigners the opportunity -to declare that the best Americans are ashamed -of their own institutions. But that apparent disposition -to apologize already belongs to a past -time. No American, unless a fool, denies to-day -the force of the national character, whatever he -or she may think of the behavior of individuals; -and on the other hand, is it not true that every -State in the Union has a rising population of -young and middle-aged people who have discovered, -Congress and the public schools to the -contrary notwithstanding, that we do not know -everything, and that the pathway of national -progress is more full of perplexities than our -forests were of trees when Daniel Boone built -his log cabin in the wilds of Kentucky? In short, -the period of unintelligent jubilation on one side, -and carping cynicism on the other, have given -place to a soberer self-satisfaction. We cannot—why -should we?—forget that our territory is -enormous, and that we soon shall be, if we are -not already, the richest nation on earth; that the -United States is the professed asylum and Mecca<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -of hope for the despondent and oppressed of -other countries; and that we are the cynosure -of the universe, as being the most important exemplification -of popular government which the -world has ever seen. At the same time, the claims -put forth by our progenitors, that American society -is vastly superior to any other, and that -the effete world of Europe is put to the blush -by the civic virtues of the land of the free and -the home of the brave, are no longer urged except -for the purposes of rodomontade. The average -American of fifty years ago—especially the -frontiersman and pioneer, who swung his axe to -clear a homestead, and squirted tobacco-juice -while he tilled the prairie—really believed that -our customs, opinions, and manner of living, -whether viewed from the moral, artistic, or intellectual -standpoint, were a vast improvement -on those of any other nation.</p> - -<p>But though most of us to-day recognize the -absurdity of such a view, we are most of us at -the same time conscious of the belief that there -is a difference between us and the European -which is not imaginary, and which is the secret -of our national force and originality. International -intercourse has served to open our eyes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -until they have become as wide as saucers, with -the consequence that, in hundreds of branches -of industry and art, we are studying Old World -methods; moreover, the pioneer strain of blood -has been diluted by hordes of immigrants of the -scum of the earth. In spite of both these circumstances, -our faith in our originality and in the -value of it remains unshaken, and we are no less -sure at heart that our salient traits are noble ones, -than the American of fifty years ago was sure that -we had the monopoly of all the virtues and all -the arts. He really meant only what we mean, -but he had an unfortunate way of expressing -himself. We have learned better taste, and we -do not hesitate nowadays to devote our native -humor to hitting hard the head of bunkum, -which used to be as sacred as a Hindoo god, and -as rife as apple-blossoms in this our beloved -country.</p> - -<p>What is the recipe for Americanism—that condition -of the system and blood, as it were, which -even the immigrant without an ideal to his own -soul, seems often to acquire to some extent as -soon as he breathes the air of Castle Garden? -It is difficult to define it in set speech, for it -seems almost an illusive and intangible quality<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> -of being when fingered and held up to the light. -It seems to me to be, first of all, a consciousness -of unfettered individuality coupled with a -determination to make the most of self. One -great force of the American character is its naturalness, -which proceeds from a total lack of -traditional or inherited disposition to crook the -knee to any one. It never occurs to a good -American to be obsequious. In vulgar or ignorant -personalities this point of view has sometimes -manifested itself, and continues to manifest -itself, in swagger or insolence, but in the -finer form of nature appears as simplicity of an -unassertive yet dignified type. Gracious politeness, -without condescension on the one hand, -or fawning on the other, is noticeably a trait of -the best element of American society, both -among men and women. Indeed, so valuable to -character and ennobling is this native freedom -from servility, that it has in many cases in the -past made odd and unconventional manner and -behavior seem attractive rather than a blemish. -Unconventionality is getting to be a thing of -the past in this country, and the representative -American is at a disadvantage now, both at -home and abroad, if he lacks the ways of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -best social world; he can no longer afford to ignore -cosmopolitan usages, and to rely solely on -a forceful or imposing personality; the world of -London and Paris, of New York and Washington -and Chicago, has ceased to thrill, and is -scarcely amused, if he shows himself merely in -the guise of a splendid intellectual buffalo. But -the best Americanism of to-day reveals itself no -less distinctly and unequivocally in simplicity -bred of a lack of self-consciousness and a lack -of servility of mind. It seems to carry with it a -birthright of self-respect, which, if fitly worn, -ennobles the humblest citizen.</p> - -<p>This national quality of self-respect is apt to -be associated with the desire for self-improvement -or success. Indeed, it must engender it, for -it provides hope, and hope is the touchstone of -energy. The great energy of Americans is ascribed -by some to the climate, and it is probably -true that the nervous temperaments of our -people are stimulated by the atmospheric conditions -which surround us; but is it not much -more true that, just as it never occurs to the -good American to be servile, so he feels that his -outlook upon the possibilities of life is not limited -or qualified, and that the world is really his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -oyster? To be sure, this faith has been fostered -by the almost Aladdin-like opportunities which -this great and rich new country of ours has afforded. -But whatever the reason for our native -energy and self-reliance, it indisputably exists, -and is signally typical of the American character. -We are distinctly an ambitious, earnest people, -eager to make the most of ourselves individually, -and we have attracted the attention of the -world by force of our independent activity of -thought and action. The extraordinary personality -of Abraham Lincoln is undoubtedly the -best apotheosis yet presented of unadulterated -Americanism. In him the native stock was free -from the foreign influences and suggestions -which affected, more or less, the people of the -East. His origin was of the humblest sort, and -yet he presented most saliently in his character -the naturalness, nobility, and aspiring energy of -the nation. He made the most of himself by -virtue of unusual abilities, yet the key-note of -their influence and force was a noble simplicity -and farsighted independence. In him the quintessence -of the Americanism of thirty years ago -was summed up and expressed. In many ways -he was a riddle at first to the people of the cities<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> -of the East in that, though their soul was his -soul, his ways had almost ceased to be their -ways; but he stands before the world to-day as -the foremost interpreter of American ideas and -American temper of thought as they then existed.</p> - -<p>In the thirty years since the death of Abraham -Lincoln the country has been inundated with foreign -blood. Irish, Germans, English, Poles, and -Scandinavians, mainly of the pauper or peasant -class, have landed in large numbers, settled in -one State or another, and become a part of the -population. The West, at the time of the Civil -War, was chiefly occupied by settlers of New -England or Eastern stock—pioneers from the -older cities and towns who had sought fortune -and a freer life in the new territory of prairies -and unappropriated domain. The population of -the whole country to-day bears many different -strains of blood in its veins. The original settlers -have chiefly prospered. The sons of those who -split rails or followed kindred occupations in the -fifties, and listened to the debates between Lincoln -and Douglas, are the proprietors of Chicago, -Denver, Cincinnati, Minneapolis, and Topeka. -Johann Heintz now follows the plough and in -turn squirts tobacco-juice while he tills the prairie;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> -and Louis Levinsky, Paul Petrinoff, and -Michael O’Neil forge the plough-shares, dig in -the mine, or work in the factory side by side with -John Smith and any descendant of Paul Revere -who has failed to prosper in life’s battle. But this -is not all. Not merely are the plain people in the -dilemma of being unable to pronounce the names -of their neighbors, but the same is getting to be -true of the well-to-do merchants and tradespeople -of many of our cities. The argus-eyed commercial -foreigner has marked us for his own, and his -kith and kin are to-day coming into possession -of our drygoods establishments, our restaurants, -our cigar stores, our hotels, our old furniture -haunts, our theatres, our jewelry shops, and what -not. One has merely to open a directory in order -to find the names in any leading branch of trade -plentifully larded with Adolph Stein, Simon Levi, -Gustave Cohen, or something ending in berger. -They sell our wool; they float our loans; they -manufacture our sugar, our whiskey, and our -beer; they influence Congress. They are here -for what they can make, and they do not waste -their time in sentiment. They did not come in -time to reap the original harvest, but they have -blown across the ocean to help the free-born<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> -American spend his money in the process of trying -to out-civilize Paris and London. As a consequence, -the leading wholesale and retail ornamental -industries of New York and of some of -our Western cities are in the grip of individuals -whose surnames have a foreign twang. Of course, -they have a right to be here; it is a free country, -and no one can say them nay. But we must take -them and their wives and daughters, their customs -and their opinions, into consideration in -making an estimate of who are the Americans of -the present. They have not come here for their -health, as the phrase is, but they have come to -stay. We at present, in our social hunger and -thirst, supply the grandest and dearest market -of the world for the disposal of everything beautiful -and costly and artistic which the Old World -possesses, and all the shopkeepers of Europe, -with the knowledge of generations on the tips -of their tongues and in the corners of their brains, -have come over to coin dowries for their daughters -in the land of the free and the home of the -brave. Many of them have already made large -fortunes in the process, and are beginning to con -the pages of the late Ward McAllister’s book on -etiquette with a view to social aggressiveness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> - -<p>Despite this infusion of foreign blood, the native -stock and the Anglo-Saxon nomenclature are -still, of course, predominant in numbers. There -are some portions of the country where the late -immigrant is scarcely to be found. True also is -it that these late-comers, like the immigrants of -fifty years ago, have generally been prompt in -appropriating the independent and energetic -spirit typical of our people. But there is a significant -distinction to be borne in mind in this -connexion: The independent energy of the -Americans of fifty years ago, whether in the East -or among the pioneers of the Western frontier, -was not, however crude its manifestations, mere -bombastic assertiveness, but the expression of a -faith and the expression of strong character. -They were often ignorant, conceited, narrow, -hard, and signally inartistic; but they stood for -principle and right as they saw and believed it; -they cherished ideals; they were firm as adamant -in their convictions; and God talked with them -whether in the store or workshop, or at the -plough. This was essentially true of the rank -and file of the people, no less true and perhaps -more true of the humblest citizens than of the -well-to-do and prominent.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> - -<p>There can be little doubt that the foreign element -which is now a part of the American people -represents neither a faith nor the expression -of ideals or convictions. The one, and the largest -portion of it, is the overflow and riff-raff of the -so-called proletariat of Europe; the other is -the evidence of a hyena-like excursion for the -purposes of plunder. In order to be a good -American it is not enough to become independent -and energetic. The desire to make the most -of one’s self is a relative term; it must proceed -from principle and be nourished by worthy, ethical -aims; otherwise it satisfies itself with paltry -conditions, or with easy-going florid materialism. -The thieving and venality in municipal political -affairs of the Irish-American, the dull squalor and -brutish contentment of the Russian-Pole, and the -commercial obliquity of vision and earthy ambitions -of the German Jew, are factors in our -national life which are totally foreign to the -Americanism for which Abraham Lincoln stood. -We have opened our gates to a horde of economic -ruffians and malcontents, ethical bankrupts -and social thugs, and we must needs be on our -guard lest their aims and point of view be so -engrafted on the public conscience as to sap the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -vital principles which are the foundation of our -strength as a people. The danger from this source -is all the greater from the fact that the point of -view of the American people has been changed -so radically during the last thirty years as a -secondary result of our material prosperity. We -have ceased to be the austere nation we once -were, and we have sensibly let down the bars in -the manner of our living; we have recognized -the value of, and we enjoy, many things which -our fathers put from them as inimical to republican -virtue and demoralizing to society. Contact -with older civilizations has made us wiser and -more appreciative, and with this growth of perspective -and the acquirement of an eye for color -has come a liberality of sentiment which threatens -to debauch us unless we are careful. There are -many, especially among the wealthy and fashionable, -who in their ecstasy over our emancipation -are disposed to throw overboard everything which -suggests the old <i lang="fr">régime</i>, and to introduce any custom -which will tend to make life more easy-going -and spectacular. And in this they are supported -by the immigrant foreigner, who would be only -too glad to see the land of his adoption made to -conform in all its usages to the land of his birth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p> - -<p>The conduct of life here has necessarily and -beneficially been affected by the almost general -recognition that we have not a monopoly of all -the virtues, and by the adoption of many customs -and points of view recommended by cosmopolitan -experience. The American people still -believe, however, that our civilization is not -merely a repetition of the older ones, and a duplication -on new soil of the old social tread-mill. -That it must be so in a measure every one will -admit, but we still insist, and most of us believe, -that we are to point the way to a new dispensation. -We believe, but at the same time when we -stop to think we find some difficulty in specifying -exactly what we are doing to justify the -faith. It is easy enough to get tangled up in -the stars and stripes and cry “hurrah!” and to -thrust the American eagle down the throats of a -weary universe, but it is quite another to command -the admiration of the world by behavior -commensurate with our ambition and self-confidence. -Our forefathers could point to their own -nakedness as a proof of their greatness, but there -seems to be some danger that we, now that we -have clothed ourselves—and clothed ourselves -as expensively as possible and not always in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> -best taste—will forget the ideas and ideals for -which those fathers stood, and let ourselves be -seduced by the specious doctrine that human -nature is always human nature, and that all civilizations -are alike. To be sure, an American now -is apt to look and act like any other rational mortal, -and there is no denying that the Atlantic -cable and ocean greyhound have brought the -nations of the world much closer together than -they ever were before; but this merely proves -that we can become just like the others, only -worse, in case we choose to. But we intend to -improve upon them.</p> - -<p>To those who believe that we are going to -improve upon them it must be rather an edifying -spectacle to observe the doings and sayings -of that body of people in the city of New York -who figure in the newspapers of the day as “the -four hundred,” “the smart set,” or “the fashionable -world.” After taking into full account the -claims of the sensitive city of Chicago, it may -be truthfully stated that the city of New York -is the Paris of America. There are other municipalities -which are doing their best in their several -ways to rival her, but it is toward New York -that all the eyes in the country are turned, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> -from which they take suggestion as a cat laps -milk. The rest of us are in a measure provincial. -Many of us profess not to approve of New -York, but, though we cross ourselves piously, -we take or read a New York daily paper. New -York gives the cue alike to the Secretary of the -Treasury and (by way of London) to the social -swell. The ablest men in the country seek New -York as a market for their brains, and the wealthiest -people of the country move to New York -to spend the patrimony which their rail-splitting -fathers or grandfathers accumulated. Therefore -it is perfectly just to refer to the social life of -New York as representative of that element of -the American people which has been most blessed -with brains or fortune, and as representative of -our most highly evolved civilization. It ought to -be our best. The men and women who contribute -to its movement and influence ought to be -the pick of the country. But what do we find? -We find as the ostensible leaders of New York -society a set of shallow worldlings whose whole -existence is given up to emulating one another -in elaborate and splendid inane social fripperies. -They dine and wine and dance and entertain from -January to December. Their houses, whether in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> -town or at the fashionable watering-places to -which they move in summer, are as sumptuous, -if not more so, than those of the French nobility -in its palmiest days, and their energies are -devoted to the discovery of new expensive luxuries -and fresh titillating creature comforts. That -such a body of people should exist in this country -after little more than a century of democratic -institutions is extraordinary, but much more extraordinary -is the absorbing interest which a large -portion of the American public takes in the doings -and sayings of this fashionable rump. There -is the disturbing feature of the case. Whatever -these worldlings do is flashed over the entire -country, and is copied into a thousand newspapers -as being of vital concern to the health and -home of the nation. The editors print it because -it is demanded; because they have found that -the free-born American citizen is keenly solicitous -to know “what is going on in society,” and -that he or she follows with almost feverish interest -and with open-mouthed absorption the -spangled and jewelled annual social circus parade -which goes on in the Paris of America. The public -is indifferently conscious that underneath this -frothy upper-crust in New York there is a large<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -number of the ablest men and women of the -country by whose activities the great educational, -philanthropic, and artistic enterprises of the day -have been fostered, promoted, and made successful; -but this consciousness pales into secondary -importance in the democratic mind as compared -with realistic details concerning this ball -and that dinner-party where thousands of dollars -are poured out in vulgar extravagance, or -concerning the cost of the wedding-presents, the -names and toilettes of the guests, and the number -of bottles of champagne opened at the marriage -of some millionaire’s daughter.</p> - -<p>No wonder that this aristocracy of ours plumes -itself on its importance, and takes itself seriously -when it finds its slightest doings telegraphed -from the Atlantic to the Pacific. It feels itself -called to new efforts, for it understands with native -shrewdness that the American people requires -novelty and fresh entertainment, or it -looks elsewhere. Accordingly it is beginning to -be unfaithful to its marriage vows. Until within -a recent period the husbands and wives of this -vapid society have, much to the bewilderment -of warm-blooded students of manners and morals, -been satisfied to flirt and produce the appearance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> -of infidelity, and yet only pretend. Now -the divorce court and the whispered or public -scandal bear frequent testimony to the fact that -it is not so fashionable or “smart” as it used to -be merely to make believe.</p> - -<p>Was there ever a foreign court, when foreign -courts were in their glory, where men and women -were content merely to whisper and giggle -behind a rubber-tree in order to appear vicious? -It may be said at least that some of our fashionables -have learned to be men and women instead -of mere simpering marionettes. Still there was -originality in being simpering marionettes: Marital -infidelity has been the favorite excitement of -every rotten aristocracy which the world has -ever seen.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>The <i>Conduct of Life</i>.</h2> - -<h3>II.</h3> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap-a-2.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">A manner of life of this description -can scarcely be the ideal of the -American people. Certainly neither -George Washington, when he delivered -his farewell address, nor Abraham Lincoln, -on the occasion of his second inaugural, looked -forward to the evolution of any such aristocracy -as the fulfilment of the nation’s hopes. And yet -this coterie of people has its representatives in -all the large cities of the country, and there is -no reason to doubt that in a short time the example -set will be imitated to some extent, at -least, and that one portion of the country will -vie with another in extravagant social vanities -and prodigal display on the part of a pleasure-seeking -leisure class.</p> - -<p>Most of these people go to church, and, indeed, -some of them are ostensibly regardful of -church functions and ceremonies, and, as they -do not openly violate any laws so as to subject -themselves to terms of imprisonment, the patriotic -American citizen finds himself able merely -to frown by way of showing his dissatisfaction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> -at this form of high treason against the morals -and aims of democracy. To frown and to be -grateful that one is not like certain pleasure-seeking -millionaires is not much of a comfort, -especially when it is obvious that the ignorant -and semi-ignorant mass is fascinated by the extravagances -and worldly manifestations of the individuals -in question, and has made them its heroes -on account of their unadulterated millions. -Indeed, the self-respecting, patriotic American -citizen finds himself to-day veritably between -Scylla and Charybdis in the matter of the conduct -of life. We are no longer the almost homogeneous -nation we were fifty years ago. There -are far greater extremes of wealth and poverty. -Our economic conditions, or at least the conditions -which exist in our principal cities, are closely -approximating those which exist in the cities of -the Old World. Outside of our cities the people -for the most part live in respectable comfort by -the practice of what passes in America for economy, -which may be defined as a high but ignorant -moral purpose negatived by waste and domestic -incompetence. It has always been true of -our beloved country that, though the ship of -state has seemed on the point of floundering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> -from time to time, disaster has invariably been -averted at critical junctures by the saving grace -of the common-sense and right-mindedness of -the American people. This is not so complimentary -as it sounds. It really means that the average -sense and intelligence of the public is apt to -be in the wrong at the outset, and to be converted -to the right only after many days and -much tribulation. In other words, our safety and -our progress have been the result of a slow and -often reluctant yielding of opinion by the mass -to the superior judgment of a minority. This is -merely another way of stating that, where every -one has a right to individual opinion, and there -are no arbitrary standards of conduct or of anything -else outside the statute law, the mean is -likely to fall far short of what is best. Our salvation -in every instance of national perplexity -has been the effectual working on the public conscience -of the leaven of the best Americanism. -A comparatively small proportion of the population -have been the pioneers in thought and suggestion -of subsequent ardent espousals by the -entire public. This leaven, in the days when we -were more homogeneous, was made up from all -the elements of society; or, in other words, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> -best Americanism drew its representatives from -every condition of life; the farmer of the Western -prairie was just as likely to tower above his -fellows and become a torch-bearer as the merchant -or mechanic of the city.</p> - -<p>If we as a nation have needed a leaven in the -past, we certainly have no less need of one to-day, -now that we are in the flush of material prosperity -and consciousness of power. Fortunately we -have one. The public-spirited, nobly independent, -earnest, conscientious, ambitious American -exists to-day as indisputably and unmistakably -as ever, and he is a finer specimen of humanity -than he used to be, for he knows more and he -poses much less. It is safe to assert, too, that he -is still to be found in every walk of our national -life. The existence of an aggravating and frivolous -aristocracy on the surface, and an ignorant, unæsthetic -mass underneath should not blind us to -the fact that there is a sound core to our social -system. The hope of the United States to-day -lies in that large minority of the people who are -really trying to solve the problems of life from -more than a merely selfish standpoint. One has -merely to think a moment in order to realize -what a really numerous and significant body<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> -among us is endeavoring to promote the cause -of American civilization by aspiring or decent -behavior. Our clergymen, our lawyers, our doctors, -our architects, our merchants, our teachers, -some of our editors, our bankers, our scientists, -our scholars, and our philanthropists, at once -stand out as a generally sane and earnest force -of citizens. The great educational, charitable, artistic, -and other undertakings which have been -begun and splendidly completed by individual -energy and liberality since the death of Abraham -Lincoln, bespeak eloquently the temper of a certain -portion of the community. If it be true that -the so-called aristocracy of New York City threatens -the repute and sincerity of democracy by its -heartlessness and unworthy attempts to ape the -vices of a fifteenth-century European nobility, -New York can fairly retort that it offers in its -working force of well-to-do people the most vital, -interesting, sympathetic, and effective force -of men and women in the nation. If the Paris of -America contains the most dangerous element -of society, it also contains an element which is -equal to the best elsewhere, and is more attractive -than any. The New York man or woman -who is in earnest is sure to accomplish something,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> -for he or she is not likely to be handicapped -by ignorant provincialism of ethics or art -which plays havoc with many of the good intentions -of the rest of the country.</p> - -<p>This versatile and interesting leaven of American -society finds its counterpart, to a greater or -less extent, in every section of the United States, -but it is nowhere quite so attractive as in the Paris -of America, for the reason that nowhere does the -pulse of life move so keenly as there, and nowhere -is the science of living absorbingly so well -understood. The art of living has there reached -a more interesting phase than in any part of -America, if zest in life and the facilities to make -the most of it are regarded as the test.</p> - -<p>This may sound worldly. The people of the -United States used to consider it worldly to -admire pictures or to listen to beautiful music. -Some think so still. Many a citizen of what was -lately the prairie sits down to his dinner in his -shirt-sleeves to-day and pretends to be thankful -that he is neither an aristocrat nor a gold-bug. -The next week, perhaps, this same citizen will -vote against a national bankrupt law because he -does not wish to pay his debts, or vote for a bill -which will enable him to pay them in depreciated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> -currency. Many a clergyman who knows better -gives his flock consolingly to understand that to -be absorbed in the best human interests of life -is unworthy of the Christian, and that to be ordinary -and unattractive is a legitimate condition -of mind and body. Surely the best Americanism -is the Americanism of the man or woman who -makes the most of what this life affords, and -throws himself or herself keenly into the thick -of it. The art of living is the science of living -nobly and well, and how can one live either nobly -or well by regarding life on the earth as a -mere log-cabin existence? If we in this country -who seek to live wisely are in danger from the -extravagant vanities of the very rich, we are -scarcely less menaced by that narrow spirit of -ethical teaching which tries to inculcate that it -does not much matter what our material surroundings -are, and that any progress made by -society, except in the direction of sheer morality, -is a delusion and a snare.</p> - -<p>Character is the basis and the indispensable requisite -of the finest humanity; without it refinement, -appreciation, manners, fancy, and power -of expression are like so many boughs on a tree -which is dead. But, on the other hand, what is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> -more uninspiring than an unadorned soul? That -kind of virtue and morality which finds no interest -in the affairs of this life is but a fresh contribution -to the sum of human incompetence, -and but serves to retard the progress of civilization. -The true and the chief reason why there is -less misery in the world than formerly is that -men understand better how to live. That straight-laced -type of American, who is content to be -moral in his own narrow way, and to exclude -from his scheme of life all those interests which -serve to refine and to inspire, bears the same relation -to the ideal man or woman that a chromo -bears to a masterpiece of painting.</p> - -<p>We have no standards in this country. The -individual is free to express himself here within -the law in any way he sees fit, and the conduct -of life comes always at last to an equation of the -individual. Each one of us when we awake in -the morning finds the problem of existence staring -him anew in the face, and cannot always spare -the time to remember that he is an American. -And yet Americanism is the sum total of what -all of us are. It will be very easy for us simply -to imitate the civilizations of the past, but if our -civilization is to stand for anything vital, and to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> -be a step forward in the progress of humanity, -we must do more than use the old combinations -and devices of society in a new kaleidoscopic -form. Our heritage as Americans is independence, -originality, self-reliance, and sympathetic -energy animated by a strong ethical instinct, and -these are forces which can produce a higher -and a broader civilization than the world has yet -seen if we choose to have it so. But it is no -longer a matter of cutting down forests and opening -mines, of boasting beside the plough and -building cities in a single year, of fabulous fortunes -won in a trice, and of favorite sons in black -broadcloth all the year round. It is a matter of -a vast, populous country and a powerful, seething -civilization where the same problems confront -us which have taxed the minds and souls of the -Old World for generations of men. It is for our -originality to throw new light upon them, and -it is for our independence to face them in the -spirit of a deeper sympathy with humanity, and -free from the canker of that utter selfishness -which has made the prosperity and glory of other -great nations culminate so often in a decadence -of degrading luxury and fruitless culture.</p> - -<p>No civilization which regards the blessings and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> -comforts of refined living as unworthy to be -striven for and appropriated can hope to promote -the cause of humanity. On the other hand, -we Americans must remember that purely selfish -appropriation and appreciation of these blessings -and comforts has worked the ruin of the most -famous civilizations of the past. Marie Antoinette -was more elegant than the most fashionable -woman in New York, and yet that did not save -her from the tumbrel and the axe. The best -Americanism of to-day and for the future is that -which shall seek to use the fruits of the earth -and the fulness thereof, and to develop all the -manifestations of art and gentle living in the interest -of humanity as a whole. But even heartless -elegance is preferable to that self-righteous -commonness of spirit which sits at home in its -shirt-sleeves and is graceless, ascetic, and unimaginative -in the name of God.</p> - -<p class="titlepage"><i>THE END</i></p> - -<div class="figcenter titlepage" style="width: 100px;"> -<img src="images/tailpiece.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="Decorative footer" /> -</div> - -<p class="titlepage"><i>D. B. Updike<br /> -The Merrymount Press<br /> -104 Chestnut Street<br /> -Boston</i></p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Art of Living, by Robert Grant - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ART OF LIVING *** - -***** This file should be named 53040-h.htm or 53040-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/0/4/53040/ - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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