Servants and service

I have alluded to the fact that the word ‘family’ includes the servants of a household; but I am inclined to think that they are more slow to realize their position as such than even their employers are.

When inquiring about the work pertaining to a situation, they are often so very particular to have the duties of the place defined with the utmost exactness. ‘Shall I be expected to do this?’ or, ‘In my last place, I was never asked to do that;’ ‘I like to know what my work is to be, and then I’ve no doubt I shall do it to the satisfaction of all parties,’ are expressions common enough when mistress and maid are arranging terms.

It is no doubt advisable so to plan the work of a house that each servant, where there are two or more, may know what is her share, and do it. The wheels of the domestic chariot would soon stick fast, and confusion reign instead of order, if things were left to arrange themselves.

There is, however, a vast difference between taking and doing the work allotted to us in a narrow, selfish spirit, or with the large-hearted kindness which should distinguish the servants of Christ. In the one case there is a continual hair-splitting going on, and when the smallest service which was not actually bargained for is required, we hear that hateful expression, ‘It’s not my place.’ ‘I came here to be housemaid—not to do cook’s work.’ Or, ‘If you had mentioned that, when Sarah has her day out, you would expect me to look after the children, I should have known what to do,’ is said to the mistress in an injured tone, or, worse still, at her, as the damsel goes grumbling about the house.

These ‘hair-splitting servants,’ as I cannot help calling them, who are always stickling for ‘rights’ and going more than half-way to meet wrongs and grievances, know nothing of the true family feeling, and are equally unpleasant people for mistresses and fellow-servants to deal with. The former are wearied with perpetual complaints—the latter are often rendered so uncomfortable by the nagging, exacting, and self-asserting spirit of the individual who is always on the bristle in defence of her place and her right, that they will leave a good home rather than endure her companionship.

I will try to make my meaning plainer still.

The ‘hair-splitter’ has perhaps been called into the sitting-room to speak to her mistress. She leaves it again whilst the parlour-maid is clearing the table. She could save the latter a journey by carrying out one or two of the heavier articles, and would cause herself no extra trouble by so doing. But, ‘No thank you,’ our ‘hair-splitter’ knows her place. Let the waitress mind her own business—she will not be asked to do any part of hers. And so she marches out of the room empty-handed, and is satisfied that in so doing she is keeping her place.

Perhaps some one in the house is an invalid, and requires to be waited on in her own apartment. All who know anything of sick-nursing can tell how many journeys up and down stairs are necessarily made, how many weary steps must be taken by those who minister to a sufferer’s comfort.

Usually, I believe, the servants are found willing to take a full share of the extra work entailed by illness, and manifest their sympathy in the most practical way, by doing it ungrudgingly and uncomplainingly. Often they will voluntarily give up all the little privileges so precious to those whose work lies wholly indoors, and ‘stay in when it is their turn to go out,’ rather than cause inconvenience—all but the ‘hair-splitter.’ She has bargained for certain things, and she will have them. She never came to be a sick-nurse, but to do regular work in her own place. She will go up and down stairs with empty hands, though it would be no effort for her to carry up the box of coal which she knows to be wanted, or to bring down little articles which the attendant in the sick-room has put outside on the landing, until she can leave the invalid for a few minutes to carry them down herself.

Our ‘hair-splitter’ disdains to lend a hand outside her own circle, and, let who may give up the day out, she will exact hers and every other privilege that she can claim, no matter who may suffer inconvenience.

‘I keep to my bargain; let other people keep to theirs. I do my work that I engaged for; that is enough for me. I keep my place; let the rest keep theirs,’ says the ‘hair-splitter;’ and she holds up her head, and defies anybody to say a word to the contrary.

Perhaps she speaks the literal truth, and she may be a thorough servant in her own department; but she is only a hireling, and has no part or lot in or with the family in that higher sense to which I have alluded. And, oh! how little does such a one realize the yet deeper, holier union and sympathy which must subsist between those who are members of the family of God, who, like the Divine Head, Christ Jesus, find it their joy to help the helpless, comfort the sorrowing, to strive, in ever so humble a way, to bear one another’s burdens, and so to fulfil the law of Christ.

If a member of the family, she will ‘rejoice with those who do rejoice, and weep with those who weep.’

There will be no ‘hair-splitting,’ no talk about rights; but the true-hearted servant, who in all her dealings with earthly employers acknowledges her Divine Master, will above all things strive to follow His example. It will not be a question, ‘How little can I do?’ but, ‘How can I best contribute to the happiness of each and all under the roof? How can I lighten the load of, or make the work easier for, my fellow-servant?’

In numberless ways the willing mind and kindly heart will find that this can be done without any additional effort or weariness to the thoughtful helper. But even if it do cost an extra effort or a few more steps to save still more of both to a tired fellow-servant, never mind. They will be well bestowed. And if done for the Heavenly Master’s sake, the reward will come in the present happiness which a consciousness of doing right always brings with it. Those who practise self-devoting kindness in their intercourse with others experience a joy unknown to the ‘hair-splitter,’ who triumphs in having successfully claimed her ‘rights’ and in keeping her place.

Now for a few words on the subject of good manners.

I have said that a servant may be as truly a gentlewoman in manners as the mistress she serves; but in order to merit the name, she must never forget the respect and obedience she owes to those who employ her. The ‘I’m-as-good-as-you’ sort of spirit is always a mark of—I was going to say—a vulgar mind. I will take higher ground. It is unworthy of the disciple of Him who said, ‘Learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.’

The injunctions in God’s Word with regard to the manners and conduct of servants towards their employers are particularly plain and unmistakable. Fidelity, honesty, hearty service, and obedience are enjoined again and again. Equally so good manners, though not in these exact words.

It is no doubt very trying for a grown-up girl or woman to be reproved in sharp, unmeasured terms, and more especially in the presence of others. But if (by God’s grace) she is enabled to conquer the inclination to reply rudely and to give, instead, the soft answer which turns away wrath, even when she feels that she has been unreasonably dwelt with, she gains a double conquest. She vanquishes the rising of sinful passion, preserves her own self-respect, and probably wins the goodwill of her mistress also, besides knowing that she has remembered the Divine rule: ‘Servants, be subject to your masters with all fear; not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward. If, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.’

You see, then, dear girls, that you are not to forget, even under difficult and trying circumstances, the respect due from those who serve to those who rule in the house. The tossing of the head, the heavy or bouncing step, the loud or pert answer, the slamming of doors, the throwing things violently down, and the going grumbling about the house, saying things at the mistress which you would be afraid or ashamed to say to her, are all marks of vulgarity and little-mindedness, which every girl who has any self-respect will avoid. And, whilst rather calculated to inspire contempt for the childishness of those who act in this unreasoning, foolish fashion, than to produce any effect on those whom they are intended to annoy, they are also utterly unworthy of every girl or woman who professes to be a servant of Christ.

The commands, ‘Be kind, be pitiful, be courteous,’ were not meant for mistresses only, or for the rich and those who fill high places in this world, but for people of all ages and of every position. It is not the possession of riches, which perhaps those who own them have done nothing to win; or the bearing of an old name, ennobled by the grand lives of those who bore it in bygone ages; not the high position occupied in this world, or even all three combined, which can entitle any human being to the name of gentleman or gentlewoman.

Thank God! those who occupy the humblest positions can merit the names, though they may not claim them. If, in fulfilling our various duties, we yield ourselves to the guidance and teaching of God’s Holy Spirit, and strive by our lives to adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things, living soberly, righteously, and godly, showing ourselves kind, forbearing, tender-hearted, forgiving, observing the golden rule, spreading as much happiness and saving as much pain as we can, we shall reap a glorious harvest of peace within and goodwill from all around us.

Believe me, dear girls, none so well deserve the names of gentleman and gentlewoman as do those whose lives best reflect that of their great pattern, Christ Jesus. And better by far than all the other books in the world is the Bible itself for teaching good manners.

Before concluding this chapter, I will briefly suggest a few of the advantages of domestic service. Some girls think that the privileges are all on the side of the outdoor workers, that the mill-hand, machinist, the dressmaker, and the young shopwoman have an amount of freedom from personal restraint which those in service cannot enjoy. Let us look more closely into this, as also into the matter of wages.

Really the outdoor worker has in many cases less time at her disposal than the domestic servant, and her average gains are less also. A servant with good health and character need never be unemployed, as the demand for such is generally in excess of the supply. She has no slack times, like nearly all other workers, employment and wages being regular the year round in her case.

Her situation is not affected by a sudden change of fashion, which will often throw nearly all the workers in a particular branch out of situations, and compel them to learn some new business by which they may earn their bread.

The domestic servant has in many cases the advantage of living in a far more comfortable home, and of being better fed and cared for. She has less anxiety about ways and means than the outdoor worker. For the latter a slack time indicates the loss of wages, perhaps for weeks together; and unless girls have been very prudent and careful, it means also a season of privation to themselves, if they cannot turn their hands to something else in the meanwhile.

The wages may seem less. Are they really so?

Supposing an outdoor worker has sixteen shillings a week, and this is a very high average, and that she does not lose a day’s pay in twelve months, she is certainly no better off than the domestic servant with six shillings. Out of the sixteen the outdoor worker has to pay for lodgings, food, and fire. Could she for ten shillings a week live in the same comfort as does a domestic servant in a well-ordered home?

Then the latter has no coming through the streets unprotected, and in all weathers; and, in the quiet round of household duties, she is exposed to far fewer temptations than the outdoor worker. (The exceptions are in the cases of girls who live under their parents’ roof, and are cared for by a watchful, loving, and judicious mother.)

Moreover, the employment of the domestic servant is not nearly so monotonous as that of the factory hand, or so wearying as that of the young shopwoman who stands behind the counter for many hours at a time. She has less anxiety than even those under whose roof she lives, knowing nothing of consultations about making ends meet, or of fears when quarter-day comes round.

Lastly, the domestic servant is not the ‘hand’ of whom often the employer knows less than he does of the machine she tends, but one who is in constant communication with father, mother, and children under the roof—in short, as I have already asserted, she is one of the family, and necessarily trusted as such.

I may add that the law affords the latter very special protection in the matter of wages, domestic servants being paid in full when other creditors often have to accept only a portion of what is due to them, or what is called a composition.