THE SECRET OF HOUSEKEEPING. 
The divine ordinance of housekeeping was instituted 
in the Garden of Eden, and so is the oldest art in the 
world. What else was Mother Eve than a housekeeper ? 
Did she not cook for the father of all living, did she 
not do his sewing, and did she not adorn their rustic 
bower with all the graceful concomitants of a boun¬ 
teous nature? The very name “helpmeet” implies 
this. The galaxy of great names which adorn its his- 
tory prove it a dignified occupation no less than its in¬ 
disputable antiquity. Housekeeping was the sole 
science known and practiced by Rebekah and Abigail, 
Andromache and Penelope, Tamar, and Tobit’s wife. 
What idyllic pictures are presented to us of some of 
those old dames at their household toil—Sarah, fair and 
stately as a princess, cooking veal and cakes in hospit¬ 
able haste for the three strangers; Nausicaa and her 
maidens, with their white arms all bare, washing the 
clothes of a king’s household by the seaside, to be in¬ 
terrupted by the wandering Odysseus; Jael, under the 
horse-hair tent of Heber, skimming the milk and mak¬ 
ing butter and cheese, and caring for the kids of the 
flock, and that black-browed heroine, Judith, clothing 
herself in the garb of a Hebrew matron and preparing 
cunning dishes to tempt the jaded appetite of Holof ernes. 
A wonderful science is housekeeping too, for it means 
the knowledge of all fruits and herbs, spices and balms, 
and all that is savory in meats; it means the inventive¬ 
ness cf a Heliogabalus and the carefulness of a Madame 
de Levigne; it means economy and watchfulness and 
readiness of appliance; it means Arabian hospitality, 
French art and English thoroughness; it means grace 
and cleanliness and dispatch; all in all, it means what 
is implied in the good old Saxon word, lilafdie, i. e. 
hlafiveardige —a bread-maker, a loaf-giver, in modern 
parlance, a lady. 
It seems to me that of late years the pure and quiet 
joys of domestic life have lost something of their 
charm. With too many this sacred ordinance of house¬ 
keeping has become an unwelcome and wearisome ne¬ 
cessity. It is perhaps the fault of the time that the 
revered name of home should be associated with care 
and anxiety and trouble. It is a fault, however, and 
should be remedied. 
Most of our housekeepers are mere drudges. Their 
whole day's work is in the kitchen and the dining-room. 
It is constant labor, constant worry, with no time for 
mental improvement or social intercourse. This should 
not be. We are defeated in our attempts to make home 
cheerful and happy because we pay too much and work 
too hard. We task and weary ourselves so much in 
the endeavor to collect the materials for enjoyment that 
they can give us but little pleasure when they are col¬ 
lected. We need more quiet naturalness and simplicity 
in our domestic life, more comfort and less art in our 
houses, less parade in the parlor, and better cooking and 
less of it in our kitchen. The best clock has the few¬ 
est wheels and makes the less noise, and the more 
simple the order of our domestic life, the better and 
happier it will be. 
I know an excellent lady who spends the best of her 
time in keeping a few articles of furniture arranged 
with painful propriety, and in sweeping and scouring a 
few particles of dust from every resting-place in the 
house. She has never learned that there is more or 
less dust and disorder in the world as God made it. 
Neatness and order are excellent virtues in a family, 
but they can be carried to excess so as to be a daily 
torment to every body in the house. And how easy it 
is to be neat—to be clean. How easy to arrange the 
rooms with the most graceful propriety! How easy it 
is to invest our houses with the truest elegance, if we 
only will. Elegance resides not with the upholsterer 
or the draper; it exists in the spirit presiding over the 
apartments of the dwelling. Contentment must al¬ 
ways be most grateful; it sheds serenity over the scene 
of its abode; it transforms a waste into a garden. The 
home lighted by these imitations of a nobler and 
bi’ighter life may be wanting in much which the dis¬ 
contented desire; but to its inhabitants it will be a 
palace far outvying the Oriental in brilliancy and 
beauty. 
It really takes but little to make home happy, pro¬ 
vided the occupants look for its greatest charm and 
chief ornament in themselves, and not in tilings that 
can be bought or borrowed. Our best peace and com¬ 
fort come from the most common blessings of life. A 
thankful heart makes the best dinner, a pleasant voice 
is the sweetest music, a kind look is a more beautiful 
picture than was ever'painted by a master, old or new. 
These things cost nothing, and can be had in the hum¬ 
blest home by the trying. 
Live within your means. Make your dress, your 
house, your furniture, your style of living such as will 
not subject you to struggle and anxiety to keep up ap¬ 
pearances. Be content to set a poorer table than your 
rich neighbour who has a French cook, and be not 
ashamed of your faded carpet if you cannot afford a new 
one. Do not mind what the outside world says; this is your 
business not theirs. Outside friends and guests must be 
drawn to our houses, not so much by costly dinner 
services and lavish entertainments, as by the kind 
hearts and gracious manners of those who give the in¬ 
vitation. 
Again we must give to the order and discipline of the 
family that variety and elasticity which suit the spring 
of the youthful mind, and which can receive the shock 
of changes and accidents without strain or jar. Let 
there be no idle hands, no wasted hours, and there will 
be a time for everything and nobody will be flustered 
with haste or exhausted with weariness. One of the 
most important things to do in order to become a good 
house manager, is to rise early. There is nothing better 
than to literally take time by the forelock. The early 
riser is always master of the situation. Good Mrs. 
Poyser, in George Elliot’s “Adam Bede,” expresses it 
finely when she says: “Them’s that would get their 
work done must rise with the lark in the morning; 
folks that want to be slaves, forever drudging and doing 
no more than that heathen feller, Sisyphus, or some 
such name, who was alius rolling a rock up-hill, can lie 
