ow in some places was filled with clay and
loose gravel. In other places it was filled with air and emptiness, with
here and there a piece of kindling-wood or dry-goods box, to aid in the
making of the shell. The walls were lies. They were beautiful, but they
were not useful. Construction and decoration had been divorced. The
walls were all decoration. They hadn't any construction in them. "As
God lets Satan live," I let that lying man live, but--I have built new
walls from the foundation up.

And now to my own house beautiful, which I shall build some seven or ten
years from now. I have a few general ideas about it. It must be honest
in construction, material, and appearance. If any feature of it, despite
my efforts, shall tell lies, I shall remove that feature. Utility and
beauty must be indissolubly wedded. Construction and decoration must be
one. If the particular details keep true to these general ideas, all
will be well.

I have not thought of many details. But here are a few. Take the
bath-room, for instance. It shall be as beautiful as any room in the
house, just as it will be as useful. The chance is, that it will be the
most expensive room in the house. Upon that we are resolved--even if we
are compelled to build it first, and to live in a tent till we can get
more money to go on with the rest of the house. In the bath-room no
delights of the bath shall be lacking. Also, a large part of the
expensiveness will be due to the use of material that will make it easy
to keep the bathroom clean and in order. Why should a servant toil
unduly that my body may be clean? On the other hand, the honesty of my
own flesh, and the square dealing I give it, are more important than all
the admiration of my friends for expensive decorative schemes and
magnificent trivialities. More delightful to me is a body that sings
than a stately and costly grand staircase built for show. Not that I
like grand staircases less, but that I like bath-rooms more.

I often regret that I was born in this particular period of the world.
In the matter of servants, how I wish I were living in the golden future
of the world, where there will be no servants--naught but service of
love. But in the meantime, living here and now, being practical,
understanding the rationality and the necessity of the division of
labour, I accept servants. But such acceptance does not justify me in
lack of consideration for them. In my house be