Simplification in manner of life, in dress, and in house furnishings may bring the greatest of all material beauties--that of the human form. One of the most melancholy sights in the world is that of a sallow, wizened lady, befrizzled and befurbelowed. When that same woman is set down amid the bric-a-brac which has helped to wear her out, the sight becomes pathetic as well as melancholy. One cannot help wondering what the effect would be if such a woman should wear plain gowns and dispose of the bric-a-brac, and spend the time saved in lying out in the fresh air, and the saved money on eggnogs and cream and cocoa and other easily digested, fattening foods. It is probable that if the modern tuberculosis cure in all of its details respecting rest and fresh air and sunlight and food should be taken for six months by all the women who could take it without sacrificing more than the purchase of a spring suit or a pair of curtains, the world’s supply of beauty in the form of bright eyes and pink cheeks and rounded figures would be increased ten and possibly a hundredfold. The increase of enjoyment of the beauties of nature which comes with reduction of care has been spoken of so often that in spite of its importance it need not be again mentioned here. The reduction of care is not the only way in which simplification brings natural beauty, however. Plain, uncarved woodwork and furniture reveal the natural beauties of the wood. Unpolished surfaces make it possible to have plants here, there, everywhere, on window sills or tables, wherever they can be most often seen and most easily cared for. Next, simplification may lead to increase in the beauty of house furnishings themselves. If we go through the house and challenge every article to prove that it is worthy of its care--worthy to be taken down and dusted three hundred and sixty-five times every year or fifty-two times, as the case may be--and dispose of all those which do not pass muster, thus getting down to rock bottom in our possessions, there are likely to be two results. The first will be the revelation of the uglinesses of the rock bottom; the second will be time to learn how to beautify it. And beauty in the rock bottom--in floors and walls and in necessary furniture--is very little trouble to care for, and frequently destroys the craving for superficial decorations. By the use of all sorts of ornaments we have blinded ourselves to the possible structural beauty of a room, a beauty due to proportion, and to the proper placing of openings, and of the necessary fixtures. Most of us need time to study good architectural forms, and some of us can get that time only by relieving ourselves of the care of knickknacks.