But it is true that while the material was accessible, it was not on that account necessarily procurable, and the investigation was undertaken with some realization of the difficulties to be encountered. Yet if, deferring to the example of the British “Who’s Who,” carpentry, cabinet-making, mountaineering, gardening, spectroscopy, and animal chemistry are by some considered as recreations while to others they would imply tasks difficult of achievement, could not, for college women, this collection of material be classed as recreation, although to others it might seem a burdensome task?
It is possible that another element may more or less consciously have been a factor in determining the choice. College education is not even yet universally accepted as necessary and desirable for women. If Society should in a sense expect an apology from college women for having removed themselves from general society and passed four years in college halls, could not that apology take the form of making some small contribution to a domestic question even though those who rendered the quasi-apology did not altogether recognize its necessity?
Another consideration akin to this lies in the frequent assumption by Society that all women marry. Cold, enduring statistical tables, as well as observation, go to show that there is an error in this assumption, and when this fact is pointed out, Society, forgetting that there are some who would but cannot, and others who can but will not, attributes the discrepancy between theory and reality to college education for women. If a few college women could add something to our knowledge of how household affairs are conducted, would that contribution serve to atone for both voluntary and involuntary neglect of matrimony?
But an apology implies not only an explanation of the past but a promise for the future,—the erring one must err no more if absolution is to be given. The economist may pardon the poacher, but he must poach no more. The historian may forgive the one who has wandered from the fold, but the wanderer must in future remain within the pale. Yet how shall the collector of experiences be diverted from his diversion of collecting? The collector of old mahogany depletes his bank account and turns his modest dwelling into a veritable second-hand shop, but still his pony chaise is tied before every farmhouse that has advertised an auction sale of household effects. The lawyer whose country estate produces green peas that yearly cost him five dollars a peck, cheerfully proclaims that it pays to be a gentleman farmer. The New York merchant hunts in Montana and charges up to profit and loss the expressage on the game secured. The luxuries of one are the necessities of another, the recreations of one are laborious occupations for his neighbor, a habit once formed holds its victim in an ever-tightening grasp. If then, in spite of apology and all that it implies, the collector of experiences still accumulates much that to others may be of little practical benefit, if she still indulges in what her friends deem an extravagant luxury, if she still finds her recreation in what others may consider an onerous pursuit, if the habit once formed of connecting with the present the facts and experiences of the past cannot apparently be broken off, if at times she still poaches and still wanders, she will once more claim indulgence if perchance there be any to grant it. It has been in anticipation of this indulgence that these sketches are reprinted. If they seem slight, it is hoped that behind the shadow will be found the substance of a great, and still unsettled problem. The hope that lies still beyond is that the household may in time to come be recognized as a legitimate field for scientific investigation.
CONTENTS
The author takes pleasure in acknowledging the courtesy of The Atlantic Monthly for permission to print the chapter on “Recent Progress in the Study of Domestic Service;” of the New England Magazine for that on “Education in the Household;” of the Boston Cooking School Magazine for the chapter on “Sairey Gamp and Dora Copperfield;” of The Chautauquan for that on “Economics and Ethics in Domestic Service;” of The Outlook for that entitled “Put Yourself in his Place;” of the Craftsman for the chapter on “Our Kitchen;” and of The Forum for that on “The Woman’s Exchange.” The author also acknowledges the kind permission of The Macmillan Company to reprint several passages from her work on Domestic Service.