FOURTH

Good workers are trained in the home, the school, the shop, the wider

world. Every home is an industrial establishment. In it go on the

industrial processes of cooking, cleaning, sewing, washing; the care of

silver, glass, linen, and household stores; the activities of buying

food and clothing; the moral responsibilities of teaching and training

servants and children. If any healthy member of the home is excused from

at least some form of active work, he will inevitably be a shirker when

he grows up. Cannot almost all the problems of human training be run

down to this: How to teach a child to work? If he can work, he can be

happy; but if he does not want to work, he shall never be happy. No

work, no joy, is the universal dictum.

This is the great hardship of the children of great wealth: they are not

taught to work. To avoid this difficulty, in two very wealthy families

that I know, the boys were even obliged to darn their own stockings and

mend their own clothes. One young hopeful once tore his clothes

a-fishing, and mended his trousers with a scarlet flannel patch! Some

mothers do not allow their little girls to go to school until their beds

are made up and their rooms in order. Other equally wise parents have

tools in the house, and allow the boys to do all the repair work, the

daughters all the family mending, or to care for the linen; the boys to

put in electric fixtures and bells, and keep the batteries in order.

Queen Margherita of Italy, Queen Elizabeth of Roumania, Queen Alexandra

of England, and the Empress Augusta of Germany are all women who have

been from their childhood acquainted with simple and practical household

tasks. This principle is a right one and underlies much after-success.

Each child should, first of all, have a mastery of home-tasks. Then,

whether on the prairie or in the palace, he is free and independent.

What makes the differences in the social privileges given to one class

of workers above another? In reality, we are all workers. No one ought

to live, if in health, who does not work. But for some forms of work,

men and women receive an income, and nothing more. For other work, men

and women may or may not receive a large personal income, but their work

is recognized, they are a part of the best social circles, and when they

die, a city or a nation grieves.

The essential difference is this: that one is honor-work, and one is

not. Wherever in the world work is done in a spirit of love and

fidelity, it brings its own reward in recognition and in personal

affection. Sooner or later, honor-work receives honor.

Another reason for exaltation of one form of work above another, is

that some kinds of work are so very hard to do. They involve the intense

and complicated action of many and of complex powers. It may be hard

physical work to break stones for a road-way, but the task itself is a

simple one--the lifting of the arm and dropping it again with sufficient

force to split a rock apart. But the writing of a prose masterpiece,

such as the _Areopagitica_, involves the highest human faculties in

harmonious action. If we add to the requirements of prose, the rhythm,

the exalted imagery, and perhaps the assonance and rhyme of verse, we

still further increase the difficulty of the task, and the honor of its

successful achievement. The king-work of a powerful monarch, the

president-work of a republican leader, is serious work to do. Our honor

is not all given to the king or president income, salary, or office; it

is a tribute to hard and royal-minded work.

Household service is personal service. It cannot be made a thing of set

hours, and of measurably set tasks, as office-work maybe. We may talk of

"eight-hour shifts," but they are scarcely practicable. Not every baby

would go to successive "shifts"! House-demands vary, not only with every

household, but with every day.

When love-making is wholly scientific, then domestic service will be.

There is in it the same delicate personal adjustment, the changing

requirements of weather, health, temper, and season, of emergency and

stress, that are to be found in the most purely personal relation. When

there is a period of unusual sickness through the community, not only

the doctors have extra tasks, but all household servants as well.

What social recognition can be given to servants who lie, steal, who

shirk every duty that can be shirked, and who are both incompetent and

unfaithful? The here-and-there one faithful helper receives her meed of

appreciation and affection. The whole aspect of household work will

change when honor-work is given: when home-helpers come up to us, from

the truthful and honor-loving class.

The school-room is the place in which the principles of work are

implanted: thoroughness, grasp, speed, decision, and definite purpose.

The shop is the apprentice-place of work, before one takes up individual

responsibilities. The man who wishes to rise in the railroad service

goes into the shops and roundhouse. The man who wishes to take charge of

an important department in a department store is put to tying packages.

Teachers' work will not be rightly done until certain advantages are

given to teachers that are now largely withheld. Teachers need more

society, more hours of play, freer opportunity of marriage. Instead of

being tied up to exercise-books and roll-books, in their home-hours,

they should have a chance to spend their time on the golf-links, at

afternoon teas, in visiting and in entertaining friends. Take away

society from any man or woman, and you take away the possibility of a

growing, happy, and helpful life. We need friends just as we need air.

Teachers need admiration and affection, just as much as the society

girl does.

Universities should have, in their faculties, men and women who

represent the best social as well as the best intellectual life of the

world--who are not only, in the highest sense of the word, society men

and women, but who are social leaders, inspiring truth, inculcating

larger social ideals of the best sort.

The problem between capitalist and laborer, however, only affects a

portion of the world; that of domestic service a still smaller

proportion; that of teachers affects only a class. There is another

problem, which affects nearly all married women, and therefore a large

section of the human race. It is the problem of mother-work. Here is

where the economist should next turn his attention. First, What is

Mother-work? Second, What are the best economic conditions under which

this work can be done? When we have solved this question, we shall have

solved a great human problem.

Mother-work includes the bearing and the rearing of children, the

conduct of a home, and the placing of that home in the right social

atmosphere and relations. It includes manual, intellectual, and

spiritual labors. The one who lives and works, as God meant her to live

and work, will never feel over-fatigue. Why do mothers often look so

tired? It is because they too often do not have what every mother ought

to have: education, rest, change, a Sabbath-day, individual income,

intellectual interests, society.

Whether in the simplest home or in the stateliest, there are certain

manual things to be done in regard to the care and bringing-up of

children, and the conduct of a home. To make the conditions of a woman's

life easier, the very first thing is this: 1. _Women should be educated

primarily for home-life._ By this I do not mean that a woman should be

taught cooking, and not political economy; that she should be instructed

in dressmaking and nursery-work, but not in chemistry and logic. I mean

that the very fullest education that schools, colleges, universities,

and foreign travel can give, should be given to the woman who is

fortunate enough to have them at command, and that every woman,

according to the degree of her possibilities of education and

opportunity, should have the best. But always this education should be

thought of as a part of her preparation for a woman's life. When boys

are in a business college, the principal of that college does not forget

that among the boys there may be more than one who will never have a

business life, but who will go out into other interests and pursuits.

Yet he turns the thoughts of _all_ boys in his school specially toward

business problems. In schools and colleges for women, not all the girls

will marry, not all will be mothers, but most of them will be. Is not,

then, the normal education of a woman that which, while it does not

cramp her life in one direction, nor mould her in a set way, yet keeps

always in mind the fact that the normal woman is being educated for a

normal woman's life?

This would not necessarily change the curriculum of our colleges in any

way; it would change the spirit and atmosphere of some of them at once.

Instead of the spirit being: "My mind is just as good as a man's. What a

man can study, I can learn! What a man can do, I can do!"--the spirit

would be this: "I am going out into a woman's life, and it is my

business now to take to myself all the wisdom, counsel, experience, and

inspiration of past ages, that I may be the very grandest woman that

history has yet seen! I will be a land-mark in time: I will be a pivot

in history around which the earth shall turn. Because of my life, women

to the end of time shall be able to live a truer, freer, better life!"

With this thought in mind, all the academic subjects would still pass

into her mind and life, but they would be much more naturally set and

their value would be greatly enhanced. Then we would not have the

too-ambitious woman stepping out of college, or the restless and

discontented one. We would have the large-minded, earnest, noble,

public-spirited one, who would go out into the world as a fine type of

woman, to live a woman's life and do a woman's work. Married or

unmarried, she would still have a woman's interests, a woman's

influence, a woman's charm.

This higher education may or may not include practical studies in

domestic science, nursing, and household emergencies, but she should

learn somewhere the elements of these studies, so that when she goes

into a home of her own her duties and responsibilities will not be met

in a half-hearted and untrained way.

2. Mothers should have rest-hours and rest-days. Is it not something

extraordinary, from a purely economic point of view, that while it is

widely recognized that every one should have one day in seven for rest,

that while business men are expected to close up their offices on the

Sabbath, and all working men and women are given this day in the stores,

the factories, and mines--the cook and maids have their Sundays out, and

their week-day afternoons--that nowhere on earth, so far as I know, has

there ever been a systematic arrangement by which mothers, as a class,

have any specially arranged hours or days for rest! A baby's care does

not stop on the Sabbath, and the average mother is practically on duty,

at least over-seeing, day and night, twenty-four hours out of the

twenty-four, from one end of the year to the other, no matter how many

maids and nurses she may have in her employ!

3. Personal income and its use. What we buy marks our own individuality,

as well as what we do. The woman whose father or husband adjusts her

expenses and expenditures cannot by any possibility be the kind of woman

that the one is who chooses her own things, and spends her money

absolutely to suit herself. When a man buys cigars or fishing-tackle,

his wife may prefer to buy oratorios and golf-clubs.

4. Mothers should have some interest outside of home-tasks, to keep them

in touch with world-interests and world-tasks. Not all mother's duty is

inside the four walls of her home. The race has demands upon her, as

well as her own child. She ought to be guarded from that short-sighted

and selfish devotion which makes her look upon her child as the centre

of the universe, and which leads her to sacrifice every hour, every

thought, every talent, to him alone.

5. Building up the place of a home in a community means much more than a

rivalry with one's neighbors, as to which one shall have the cleanest

house, the prettiest or most expensive curtains and furniture, who shall

entertain the most, and whose children shall present the best appearance

in the world! Making a social place for a family involves a very wide

acquaintance with really great social ideals; with the best instincts

and customs; with world refinement and manners, as well as those of

one's own town or village--with the social possibilities of life in

general, as well as the etiquette of Quinton's Corners! To give the

right stamp upon her home, a mother must have a social life, as well as

domestic one. She must have time to enter somewhat into the activities

of her own neighborhood, and must have society after marriage, as well

as before.

It is a different sort of society that she then needs. It is not a

boy-and-girl society, with its crude ways, and its adolescent ideas of

life. It is the society of earnest, cultured, and public-spirited men

and women, each of whom is adding something to the general store of

interest and ideals; each of whom is doing some phase of social work,

according to his own talent and opportunity.

When a mother steps out into life in this large way, makes education and

training tributary to her mother-life, and does not stop growing

intellectually or spiritually,--her charm as a woman increases, instead

of diminishes, every year of her married life. Her looks mark her

everywhere as a supremely happy woman, and she goes out into the world

marked with that strange, deep, grand impress of motherhood and

womanhood, which has always made the true woman not only a

working-mother, but a love-crowned queen!

These and many other thoughts flit over one's mind in looking at any

phase of work, or any piece of work. In the right choice of work lies

the fullest use of one's capacities; in the right conditions of work

lies the freest play of one's energies; in the right spirit of work lies

the way of one's lasting happiness, and the foretaste of eternal joys.

Thus the world is seen to consist of great cycles of workers, rising in

tiers one above another. Those who do not work are quickly cut out from

all participation in race-progress and in race-delights; those who work

earnestly, but blindly, have their small reward. But those who work with

spiritual energy and enthusiasm are weaving their handiwork into the

very fibre of the universal frame. It is for these spiritual workers

that the great eagerness of life is undying; for them there is no shadow

of fatigue; for them there is the joy of mastery and accomplishment; for

them the peace of soul that comes from the triumphant achievement of

one's mission to mankind!

The Warriors · 第 33 / 35 题