tive of discomfort and early death, why should we not
consider the possibility of greater happiness through
simplicity and consequent perfection ; of greater sat-
isfaction through the assurance that we have used
our resources to the best of our ability ?

I am told that the people of culture in New
England fifty years ago paid one third their income
for rent, but the annual expenses of the establishment
were not in proportion what they are now. Life was
much simpler, and the actual amount of work done
was far less. The sanitary requirements of to-day
were unknown. The handsome, simple furniture was
more easily cleaned ; the dust-catching bric-k-bric was
absent; the laundry work was far less; and while the
service of the table was dignified, it was not so
elaborate as now.
There were no telephones, no gas, no lamps (most
time-consuming in care), fewer callers, more true
hospitality, few brass pipes to clean, on the whole less
sickness. We have gained in conveniences, but have
lost in real ease and comfort of life. It is true cer-



OPERATING EXPENSES. 6/

tain comforts have greatly increased: soft rugs have
replaced the sanded floors; easy chairs, the straight-
backed settle. But the knocker which announced the
entrance of the visitor directly into the living-room is
replaced by the electric bell, which calls a maid up
one flight of stairs to the door, only to send her up
another flight to announce the caller.
