CHAPTER VI.
Their domestic life was so harmonious and perfect that it was aperpetual pleasure to contemplate.
Human nature finds its sweetest pleasure, its happiest content, withinits own home circle; and in Mizora I found no exception to the rule. Thearrangement and adornment of every house in Mizora were evidently forthe comfort and happiness of its inmates. To purchase anything formerely outside show, or to excite the envy or jealousy of a neighbor,was never thought of by an inhabitant of Mizora.
The houses that were built to rent excited my admiration quite as muchas did the private residences. They all seemed to have been designedwith two special objects in view--beauty and comfort. Houses built torent in large cities were always in the form of a hollow square,inclosing a commodious and handsomely decorated park. The back wasadorned with an upper and lower piazza opening upon the park. The suitesof rooms were so arranged as to exclusively separate their occupantsfrom all others. The park was undivided. The center was occupied by afountain large enough to shoot its spray as high as the uppermostpiazza. The park was furnished with rustic seats and shade trees,frequently of immense size, branched above its smooth walks andpromenades, where baby wagons, velocipedes and hobby horses on wheelscould have uninterrupted sport.
Suburban residences, designed for rent, were on a similar but moreamplified plan. The houses were detached, but the grounds were incommon. Many private residences were also constructed on the same plan.Five or six acres would be purchased by a dozen families who were notrich enough to own large places separately. A separate residence wouldbe built for each family, but the ground would be laid off andornamented like a private park. Each of the dozen families would thushave a beautiful view and the privilege of the whole ground. In thisway, cascades, fountains, rustic arbors, rockeries, aquariums, tinylakes, and every variety of landscape ornamenting, could be supplied ata comparatively small cost to each family.
Should any one wish to sell, they disposed of their house andone-twelfth of the undivided ground, and a certain per cent. of thevalue of its ornaments. The established custom was never to remove oralter property thus purchased without the consent of the othershareholders. Where a people had been educated to regard justice andconscience as their law, such an arrangement could be beneficial to anentire city.
Financial ability does not belong to every one, and this plan of unitingsmall capitals gave opportunity to the less wealthy classes to enjoy allthe luxuries that belong to the rich. In fact some of the handsomestparks I saw in Mizora were owned and kept up in this manner. Sometimesas many as twenty families united in the purchase of an estate, andconstructed artificial lakes large enough to sail upon. Artificialcascades and fountains of wonderful size and beauty were commonornaments in all the private and public parks of the city. I noticed inall the cities that I visited the beauty and charm of the public parks,which were found in all sections.
The walks were smoothly paved and shaded by trees of enormous size. Theywere always frequented by children, who could romp and play in thesesylvan retreats of beauty in perfect security.
The high state of culture arrived at by the Mizora people rendered aluxurious style of living a necessity to all. Many things that I hadbeen brought up to regard as the exclusive privileges of the rich, werehere the common pleasure of every one. There was no distinction ofclasses; no genteel-poverty people, who denied themselves necessitiesthat they might appear to have luxuries. There was not a home in Mizorathat I entered--and I had access to many--that did not give theimpression of wealth in all its appointments.
I asked the Preceptress to explain to me how I might carry back to thepeople of my country this social happiness, this equality of physicalcomfort and luxury; and she answered me with emphasis:
"Educate them. Convince the rich that by educating the poor, they areproviding for their own safety. They will have fewer prisons to build,fewer courts to sustain. Educated Labor will work out its own salvationagainst Capital. Let the children of toil start in life with exactlythe same educational advantages that are enjoyed by the rich. Give themthe same physical and moral training, and let the rich pay for it bytaxes."
I shook my head "They will never submit to it," was my reluctantadmission.
"Appeal to their selfishness," urged the Preceptress "Get them to opentheir college doors and ask all to come and be taught without money andwithout price. The power of capital is great, but stinted and ignoranttoil will rise against its oppression, and innocence and guilt willalike suffer from its fury. Have you never known such an occurrence?"
"Not in my day or country," I answered "But the city in which I waseducated has such a history. Its gutters flowed with human blood, theblood of its nobles."
She inclined her head significantly. "It will be repeated," she saidsadly, "unless you educate them. Give their bright and active minds thepower of knowledge. They will use it wisely, for their own and theircountry's welfare."
I doubted my ability to do this, to contend against rooted and inheritedprejudice, but I resolved to try. I did not need to be told that therich and powerful had a monopoly of intellect: Nature was not partial tothem, for the children of the poor, I well knew, were often handsomerand more intellectual than the offspring of wealth and aristocraticbirth.
I have before spoken of the positions occupied by those who performedwhat I had been bred to regard as menial work. At first, the mere factof the person who presided over the kitchen being presented to me as anequal, was outraging to all my hereditary dignity and pride of birth. Noone could be more pronounced in a consciousness of inherited nobilitythan I. I had been taught from infancy to regard myself as a superiorbeing, merely because the accident of birth had made me so, and thearrogance with which I had treated some of my less favored schoolmatesreverted to me with mortifying regret, when, having asked Wauna to pointout to me the nobly born, she looked at me with her sweet expression ofcandor and innocence and said:
"We have no nobility of birth. As I once before told you, intellect isour only standard of excellence. It alone occupies an exalted place andreceives the homage of our people."
In a subsequent conversation with her mother, the Preceptress, she said:
"In remote ages, great honor and deference was paid to all who wereborn of rulers, and the designation 'noble blood,' was applied to them.At one time in the history of our country they could commit any outrageupon society or morals without fear of punishment, simply because theybelonged to the aristocracy. Even a heinous murder would be unnoticed ifperpetrated by one of them. Nature alone did not favor them Imbecile andimmoral minds fell to the lot of the aristocrat as often as to the lowlyborn. Nature's laws are inflexible and swerve not for any human wish.They outraged them by the admixture of kindred blood, and degeneracy wasoften the result. A people should always have for their chief ruler thehighest and noblest intellect among them, but in those dark ages theywere too often compelled to submit to the lowest, simply because it hadbeen _born_ to the position. But," she added, with a sweet smile,"_that_ time lies many centuries behind us, and I sometimes think we hadbetter forget it entirely."
My first meeting with the domestics of my friend's house impressed mewith their high mental culture, refinement and elegance. Certainly no"grande dame" of my own country but would have been proud of theirbeauty and graceful dignity.
Prejudice, however deeply ingrained, could not resist the custom of awhole country, and especially such a one as Mizora, so I soon foundmyself on a familiar footing with my friend's "artist"--for the name bywhich they were designated as a class had very nearly the same meaning.
Cooking was an art, and one which the people of Mizora had cultivated tothe highest excellence. It is not strange, when their enlightenment isunderstood, that they should attach as much honor to it as the people ofmy country do to sculpture, painting and literature. The Preceptresstold me that such would be the case with my people when education becameuniversal and the poor could start in life with the same intellectualculture as th
e rich. The chemistry of food and its importance inpreserving a youthful vigor and preventing disease, would then beunderstood and appreciated by all classes, and would receive thedeference it deserved.
"You will never realize," said the Preceptress earnestly, "theincalculable benefit that will accrue to your people from educating yourpoor. Urge that Government to try it for just twenty years, long enoughfor a generation to be born and mature. The bright and eager intellectsof poverty will turn to Chemistry to solve the problems of cheap Light,cheap Fuel and cheap Food. When you can clothe yourselves from thefibre of the trees, and warm and light your dwellings from the water ofyour rivers, and eat of the stones of the earth, Poverty and Diseasewill be as unknown to your people as it is to mine."
"If I should preach that to them, they would call me a maniac."
"None but the ignorant will do so. From your description of the greatthinkers of your country, I am inclined to believe there are minds amongyou advanced enough to believe in it."
I remembered how steamboats and railroads and telegraphy had beenopposed and ridiculed until proven practicable, and I took courage andresolved to follow the advice of my wise counselor.
I had long felt a curiosity to behold the inner workings of a domestic'slife, and one day ventured to ask my friend's permission to enter herkitchen. Surprise was manifested at such a request, when I began toapologize and explain. But my hostess smiled and said:
"My kitchen is at all times as free to my guests as my drawing room."
Every kitchen in Mizora is on the same plan and conducted the same way.To describe one, therefore, is to describe all. I undertook to explainthat in my country, good breeding forbade a guest entering the host'skitchen, and frequently its appearance, and that of the cook's, wouldnot conduce to gastric enjoyment of the edibles prepared in it.
My first visit happened to be on scrubbing day, and I was greatly amusedto see a little machine, with brushes and sponges attached, going overthe floor at a swift rate, scouring and sponging dry as it went. Twovessels, one containing soap suds and the other clear water, wereconnected by small feed pipes with the brushes. As soon as the dryingsponge became saturated, it was lifted by an ingenious yet simplecontrivance into a vessel and pressed dry, and was again dropped to thefloor.
I inquired how it was turned to reverse its progress so as to clean thewhole floor, and was told to watch when it struck the wall. I did so,and saw that the jar not only reversed the machine, but caused it tospring to the right about two feet, which was its width, and again beginwork on a new line, to be again reversed in the same manner when itstruck the opposite wall. Carpeted floors were swept by a similarcontrivance.
No wonder the "artists" of the kitchen had such a dainty appearance.They dipped their pretty hands in perfumed water and dried them on thefinest and whitest damask, while machinery did the coarse work.
Mizora, I discovered, was a land of brain workers. In every vocation oflife machinery was called upon to perform the arduous physical labor.The whole domestic department was a marvel of ingenious mechanicalcontrivances. Dishwashing, scouring and cleaning of every descriptionwere done by machinery.
The Preceptress told me that it was the result of enlightenment, and itwould become the custom in my country to make machinery perform thelaborious work when they learned the value of universal and advancedknowledge.
I observed that the most exact care was given to the preparation offood. Every cook was required to be a chemist of the highest excellence;another thing that struck me as radically different from the custom invogue in my country.
Everything was cooked by hot air and under cover, so that no odor wasperceptible in the room. Ventilating pipes conveyed the steam fromcooking food out of doors. Vegetables and fruits appeared to acquire aricher flavor when thus cooked. The seasoning was done by exact weightand measure, and there was no stirring or tasting. A glass tube, on theprinciple of a thermometer, determined when each article was done. Theperfection which they had attained as culinary chemists was a source ofmuch gratification to me, both in the taste of food so delicious andpalatable, and in its wholesome effect on my constitution. As to itsdeliciousness, a meal prepared by a Mizora cook could rival the fabledfeasts of the gods. Its beneficial effects upon me were manifested in ahealthier tone of body and an an increase of animal spirits, apleasurable feeling of content and amiability.
The Preceptress told me that the first step toward the eradication ofdisease was in the scientific preparation of food, and the establishmentof schools where cooking was taught as an art to all who applied, andwithout charge. Placed upon a scientific basis it became respectable.
"To eliminate from our food the deleterious earthy matter is ourconstant aim. To that alone do we owe immunity from old age far inadvance of that period of life when your people become decrepit andsenile. The human body is like a lamp-wick, which filters the oil whileit furnishes light. In time the wick becomes clogged and useless and isthrown away. If the oil could be made perfectly pure, the wick would notfill up."
She gave this homely explanation with a smile and the air of a grownperson trying to convey to the immature mind of a child an explanationof some of Nature's phenomena.
I reflected upon their social condition and arrived at the convictionthat there is no occupation in life but what has its usefulness andnecessity, and, when united to culture and refinement, its dignity. Atree has a million leaves, yet each individual leaf, insignificant as itmay appear, has its special share of work to perform in helping the treeto live and perfect its fruit. So should every citizen of a governmentcontribute to its vitality and receive a share of its benefits.
"Will the time ever come," I asked myself, "when my own country will seethis and rise to a social, if not intellectual equality." And theadmonition of the Preceptress would recur to my mind:
"Educate them. Educate them, and enlightenment will solve for them everyproblem in Sociology."
My observations in Mizora led me to believe that while Nature willpermit and encourage the outgrowth of equality in refinement, she givesbirth to a more decided prominence in the leadership of intellect.
The lady who conducted me through the culinary department, and pointedout the machinery and explained its use and convenience, had the samegrace and dignity of manner as the hostess displayed when exhibiting tome the rare plants in her conservatory.
The laundry was a separate business. No one unconnected with it as aprofession had anything to do with its duties. I visited several of thelarge city laundries and was informed that all were conducted alike.Steam was employed in the cleaning process, and the drying was done byhot air impregnated with ozone. This removed from white fabrics everyvestige of discoloration or stain. I saw twelve dozen fine damasktable-cloths cleaned, dried and ironed in thirty minutes. All done bymachinery. They emerged from the rollers that ironed them looking likenew pieces of goods, so pure was their color, and so glossy theirfinish.
I inquired the price for doing them up, and was told a cent a piece.Twelve cents per dozen was the established price for doing up clothes.Table-cloths and similar articles were ironed between rollersconstructed to admit their full width. Other articles of morecomplicated make, were ironed by machines constructed to suit them. Somearticles were dressed by having hot air forced rapidly through them.Lace curtains, shawls, veils, spreads, tidies and all similar articles,were by this process made to look like new, and at a cost that I thoughtought certainly to reduce the establishment to beggary or insolvency.But here chemistry again was the magician that had made such cheap laborprofitable. And such advanced knowledge of chemistry was the result ofuniversal education.
Ladies sent their finest laces to be renewed without fear of having themreduced to shreds. In doing up the frailest laces, nothing but hot airimpregnated with ozone was employed. These were consecutively forcedthrough the fabric after it was carefully stretched. Nothing was everlost or torn, so methodical was the management of the work.
I asked why cooking was not
established as the laundry was, as adistinct public business, and was told that it had been tried a numberof times, but had always been found impracticable. One kind of work in alaundry would suit everyone, but one course of cooking could not. Tastesand appetites differed greatly. What was palatable to one would bedisliked by another, and to prepare food for a large number ofcustomers, without knowing or being able to know exactly what the demandwould be, had always resulted in large waste, and as the people ofMizora were the most rigid and exacting economists, it was not to bewondered at that they had selected the most economical plan. Everyprivate cook could determine accurately the amount of food required forthe household she prepared it for, and knowing their tastes she couldcater to all without waste.
"We, as yet," said my distinguished instructor, "derive all our fruitand vegetables from the soil. We have orchards and vineyards and gardenswhich we carefully tend, and which our knowledge of chemistry enables usto keep in health and productiveness. But there is always more or lessearthy matter in all food derived from cultivating the soil, and thelaboratories are now striving to produce artificial fruit and vegetablesthat will satisfy the palate and be free from deleterious matter."