These are just two sketches of the possibilities of an old system and of the probabilities of a new one.
The problem, as you must personally meet it, unsolved, unclassified, little understood and a good deal discouraging is even now perhaps getting dinner in the kitchen. Probably the best plan for dealing with her at present is to use a little of both systems. It is wise to be very business-like about some things. "Days out," for instance, ought not to be interfered with except in case of family calamity. If the maid chooses to spend them at home, they should be as much hers as if she had gone out. Sanitary surroundings are another thing. I hope that if I looked into your maids' room I should not see that there was no light, no heat, a double bed for two maids who are strangers to each other and the most meagre washing conveniences. It is useless to say that it is better than their homes, it is not their homes, it is your home. When an inspector goes to see about factory conditions, he does not say, "It's well enough, it's as good as their homes." Another thing about which we should be business-like is the matter of hours. We should be as particular that our maids do not work sixteen hours as if we had a Trades' Union compelling us to be. A business-like point-of-view would also preserve us from despising a necessary and useful occupation. I have mentioned the careless way we speak of it sometimes, but what I think really matters more, is that some women would rather put up with lying, stealing, and immorality in a maid than take the risk of having to do her work. On the maid's "day out," likewise, some of us do as little of her work and do it as slightingly as we can, and she knows it.
But we shall need the patriarchal method in dealing with maids personally. They are of many nationalities; they are untrained, untaught; they have different customs, different manners, often different feelings from ourselves. We shall need much knowledge and human sympathy to understand them; much patience and quietness to teach them. We shall have to explain things which are new to them a great many times and very simply. We shall have to tell them definitely a few things which we require, and we must keep them and ourselves faithfully to these requirements. We must not lose our tempers with them because this lessens our authority, and besides, it is inexcusable to lose one's temper with a subordinate. We must not expect sympathy from them in the trouble they give us. We shall not get it any more than we would get such sympathy from children in school.
It is sometimes a help over a puzzling place to remember that this work has a resemblance to the work of teaching. There is required of us the same willingness to wait long for results, the same patience with ignorance and clumsiness and defectiveness, the same quiet firmness toward carelessness and insolence.
Many teachers have to begin to teach when they still know very little. They learn as they work, and so can housekeeper teachers. If the cook knows more about her work than you do, by all means learn from her and take her advice often, but do not allow her on this account to rule the household, or to decide about family arrangements which are not in her department.
Do you know that letter of Saint Paul's written to his friend Philemon on behalf of a runaway slave? It is an irresistible letter. Such a mingling of loving confidence and insistent authority is hardly to be found elsewhere. And also, with a little thinking, a little putting together piece by piece, one gets a whole, vivid dramatic story from this letter.
But its importance to us is that it is a letter written about a servant, and has more in it than people have yet been able to put into practice, though they have made a little progress in about nineteen hundred years.