X.A LOOK AHEAD.
WHEN the Society for the Enlightenment of Mothers shall have accomplished its work, and, as a consequence, it has become a recognized idea in the community that woman’s special duty is to rightly train her children, then it will be in order to organize that other society, the object of which shall be to provide mothers with time for attending to that special duty. And perhaps some of my remote descendants may be called upon to draft resolutions for said society, and may be glad to find, among the musty papers of their great, great, great, many-times-great grandfather, a hint for a beginning, something like this, for instance:—
“Whereas, Mothers of families are burdened with many cares, and whereas their crying want is want of time: therefore.“Resolved, That, in our view, the necessities of the age demand the organization of a society, the object of which shall be the diffusion of time among mothers.“Resolved, secondly, That this society boldly takes its stand on the platform of Simplification.“Resolved, thirdly, That, to effectually disseminate its views, this society requires, and shall have, anorgan.“Resolved, fourthly, That said organ shall be called ‘The Columbian Simplifier and Time-Provider;’ and that writers shall be pecuniarily encouraged to illustrate in its columns our grand idea of Simplification in its bearing on household duties and on dress.”
“Whereas, Mothers of families are burdened with many cares, and whereas their crying want is want of time: therefore.
“Resolved, That, in our view, the necessities of the age demand the organization of a society, the object of which shall be the diffusion of time among mothers.
“Resolved, secondly, That this society boldly takes its stand on the platform of Simplification.
“Resolved, thirdly, That, to effectually disseminate its views, this society requires, and shall have, anorgan.
“Resolved, fourthly, That said organ shall be called ‘The Columbian Simplifier and Time-Provider;’ and that writers shall be pecuniarily encouraged to illustrate in its columns our grand idea of Simplification in its bearing on household duties and on dress.”
There, I leave my great, great, great, many-times-great grandchildren these hints, with my blessing, and would leave, also, an article for “The Simplifier,” only for the difficulty of putting myself in a frame of mind corresponding with so remotely future a state of things,—a state of things, that is, when the controlling purposes of woman’s life shall have changed so entirely.
I have a mind to try to do this, and write my article, and have it read at the sewing-circle; but then it would be premature. These mothers do not yet recognize their mission; neither do they yet place mental culture among the must haves. When they do, they will work for far other than their present aims; not but that many of these are commendable, but that they stand in the way of better things.
Take ironing, for instance. This forenoon Iheard Mrs. Fennel say to Martha, “Don’t slight the towels. I take just as much pains with a coarse brown towel as I do with any thing.” Mrs. Fennel prides herself on having the clothes “look well on the horse,”[A]the tinware bright, stove polished, tables scoured, towel-fringes combed out nicely, and a pantry stored with nice things to tempt the appetite. Now, the question is not, are these ends worth attaining, but are they the principal ones worth attaining?
I am aware that any insinuation of this kind read at the sewing-circle would bring a storm about my head at once. “What! slight the ironing?” “What! not scour the tin?” “What! not keep the stove bright?” Well, they would certainly have right on their side; and I should have, more certainly, right on my side. My side being, that, through all the toil and striving, something higher shall be kept in view, and that this something higher shall not be forever shoved aside for those other things lower.
I suppose the Society for the Enlightenment of Mothers will put the case somewhat in this way,—
“As woman has mind, it may be inferred that tocultivate her mind should be one special object of woman’s life. That is one statement. Then, to add another, nothing in the world can be more precious than a little child. It is no light responsibility, that of giving the first direction to an immortal soul. Woman, in assuming a duty so sacred, should feel that its claims rank above all others; that it demands of her her very best.
“A mother, then, should aim at two special duties; namely, to cultivate her mind, and to rightly train her children. Though these two are stated separately, the last really includes the first, since, to rightly train her children, a mother needs to have every mental faculty under cultivation. This implies study, reflection, deliberation; and these imply time. ‘We have no time,’ say these mothers,—‘no time for books, no time to think, no time to spend with our children.’ Which is not true, because they have all the time there is, but feel bound to use it for other purposes.”
Now, here is where the Society for the Diffusion of Time among Mothers shall take up the work, and show how, by the application of its grand principle of Simplification to cooking and to dress, the inferior duties can be made to deliver up their “lion’s share” of time. Statistical writers in “TheColumbian Simplifier” shall state the exact number of rolling-pin strokes required by an average family in a year, and the amount of time said strokes will consume, for the purpose of calculating how many hours and minutes are thus stolen from the two special objects. The same statistical writer, for a similar purpose, shall give, in figures, the stitches and minutes required to flounce an average family for a year. Comic writers will hold up to ridicule, in “The Simplifier,” elaborate passages from the cook-book, thus handing them down to posterity, by whom they will be considered as relics of a barbarous age. Among these passages will no doubt be this one concerning
MINCE-PIES.
“Ten pounds of meat, three pounds of suet, one of currants, three of sugar, five of apple, four of raisins, one of citron, a pint of sirup of preserved fruit, a quart of wine, salt, cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, the juice and pulp of a lemon, the rind chopped fine.”
“Ten pounds of meat, three pounds of suet, one of currants, three of sugar, five of apple, four of raisins, one of citron, a pint of sirup of preserved fruit, a quart of wine, salt, cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, the juice and pulp of a lemon, the rind chopped fine.”
Among the illustrations of “The Simplifier” may be, perhaps, one of a woman at a sewing-machine, half-buried in as yet unruffled ruffling; musical instruments at the right of her, an easelwith its belongings at the left of her, book-shelves well-filled in front of her. If the artist be imaginative, he may depict, hovering over their several emblems, dim, shadowy forms to represent, respectively, the genius of music, of painting, of literature, each vainly, and sorrowfully because vainly, beckoning the ruffler away. Or, instead of a woman ruffling, it may be a woman, chopper in hand, concocting the above-quoted horror of the cook-book, surrounded, of course, by the various ingredients, each properly labelled. If the artist be sensational, as well as imaginative, he may introduce here, instead of the dim and shadowy figures just now mentioned, the grim and shadowy figure of Death,as saying with an exultant laugh, “Go on, madam, go on. You are working in my interests!”
Then will come the essayist. Imagine him thus,—
“Some may ask, Mr. Editor, is it not desirable to live neatly, and to cook palatable food? Yes. But is it for this alone that woman has intellect, talent, genius, aspirations? Suppose, now, that one of these women live forty working-years. At the end of that time she can look back, and say, ‘I have polished my stove twelve thousand times; have scoured my knives thirty-six thousand times; have never left one wrinkle in one coarse towel; have swept the house from garret to cellar two thousand and eighty times; and I have made unnumbered thousands of cakes, pies, and hot biscuits.’ Now, without saying any thing against neatness, or against eating, can that woman, in accomplishing these ends only, be said to have fulfilled the essential purposes of life?
“The case is something like this. A person is sent on an important mission, and, being asked if he has performed his mission, replies, ‘Why, no! I had no time. It took all the time to look out for provisions, brush the dust off my clothes, and polish my boots. These duties have been faithfully attended to, I am proud to say.’
“Or suppose a sea-captain should devote his energies mainly to keeping the ship in order and his storeroom supplied, but never steer for any port. ‘“Cleanliness and good living” is my motto,’ he would say, pointing exultingly to his well-scrubbed decks and to his well-filled storeroom. ‘Yes; but it is necessary to get somewhere,’ might properly be answered.
“Let woman, then, while insisting on neatness, remember her mission. Let her, sailing on life’s seas, keep the ship in order and wholesomely provisioned, but at the same time steer for some port.”
The essayist will, of course, bring in those who forget their mission while picking flowers, chasing butterflies, and blowing bubbles, and will in various ways show that by simplifying cooking, and simplifying dress, time may be diffused among mothers.