I kin' er thought that way too, 'n' wa'nt' honin' after nothin' fancy, but I was astonished when I heard Randy tell the un'ertaker ter bring the fines' one in the shop, cause he didn't want no scrimpin' in his wives' cawfins. I'd er sight rither been scrimped in cawfins dead, 'n in dresses livin'. I couldn't he'p thinkin' o' my ol' black silk dress I've had ever since Hector was er pup, tha's been cleaned, 'n' dyed, 'n' turned, 'n' twisted wrong side out, 'n' hind part befo', 'n up side down, 'n' generally projeckded with, till I didn't know myse'f all its ins 'n' outs 'n' ups 'n' downs. I'd lived in that dress, n' now I was gittin' buried in it. Well, buryin' was what it needed mos'. But a new dress might er made my days longer in the lan'.

After they put me in the settin' room I heard the fun'al comp'ny passin' their compliments, mos'ly backhanded.

"Fine cawfins don' butter no parsnips," says Mrs. Suggs, sniffin'.

"Randy Dinkins oughter be 'shamed ter bury Liza in that Methuselah dress,' says Jane, her sister.

"Ef Randy wa'n't 'shamed ter see his wife wearin' that dress ever sence the stars fell, there ain' no call for 'im ter be 'shamed now she's dead," says Betsy Barlow.

Betsy's one er them wiry, survigrous women, with er gingery tongue.

"Well, she's gone whar there ain' no dressin' nor givin' o' dresses," put in Betsy's husband, peaceable like.

"Tha's what makes heaven look to you the bes' place, Jo Barlow!" says Betsy, for all the worl' like er snappin' turkle. "Up there you won't have ter git no mo' dresses."

"Nur dressin' downs neither," says Jo, mumbly like, 'n' sighed, 'n' shut up.

I tried ter make 'em hear me 'n' see me, 'cause it made me mad as Tucker ter

hear 'em criticisin' Randy, 'n' takin' my remains in vain.

"I didn't know she could look that well," says one.

"Yaas, po' thing, her worryin's all over now. Sister Dinkins sure did have er gif' thater way. For fin'in' 'n' inventin' things ter worry over, she laid it on ter any woman I ever clapped eyes on," says Miss Pegrums.

"She kep' herse'f 'n' Randy 'n' her house scrubbed to the bone. She wanted to scour ev'y breath Randy drawed. She actshully wanted that po' man to whitewash the wood pile. She ain't never 'lowed 'im to go in 'n' out the front do' 'xcept for speshul doin's. I tol' Randy onst, his house put me in min' o' the misshunary's talk 'bout them heathen temples where they bows down befo' stocks 'n' stones, 'n' nobody dassent go in 'thout bowin' down 'n' takin' off their shoes." But eve'body knows Polly Suggs is the slack twistedest house keeper in Buncombe, 'n' has needles in her tongue ever since Randy married me stidder her.

"I wonder if they took out the po' thing's stc' teeth?" says Mary Ann Di!lard, who ain' got three teeth to her

name.

"My Aunt Elise"-tha's the way they spells Liza now in Noo Awleens--"had the teeth God give her," says Maymye, comin' up, mad's er hornet.

Then there was er lot er say-soes, 'bout my ol' dress, which oughten ter've worried er diserbodied sperrit, only it did. I'd had it on my min' ter give Randy some plain orders 'bout my fun'al, but I didn' git the chanst. I never could stan fun'al ways! It's takin' er undecint a'vantage er dead people ter talk at 'em when they can' answer back. When Mandy Bullit shook her head 'n' says, in that mo'nful voice o' hers, "Sister Dinkins don' look he

she'll keep till ev'nin," I couldn' stan' it no longer, 'n' I went over to where Randy was er settin' with the widow, 'n' tol' him to stop the whole bus'ness, but he didn' min' me no mo'n ef I'd been the ol' black rooster crowin' out in the yard. He jes' shivered 'n' said he felt er col' draf' er air. "You po' thing," says the widow, "don't you think you could eat er little somethin'?" I knowed Randy could.

Men folks may break

the'r hearts, but they're goin' ter do it on full stummicks. I s'pose the Lord knowed what He was erbout when He made men, but it seems ter me 'twas jes' er experiment, 'n' He didn' git up much intrus in the job till He begun on women. Randy, he worried down ha'f er dozen er so biskit, 'n' then he says: "I ain' never see nobody could put er patchin' onter Liza's biskit." I nearly jumped outer my skin. Randy, firs' 'n' las', had th'owed in my face eve'y woman's biskit in Buncombe! Some folks has ter die befo' they gits the'r hones' dues. When we went back ter the settin' room, it come ter me fer the firs' time how out of it I was, 'n' in my own house, too! There was the clean curtains Maymye'd put up, not even mates, 'n' hangin' all catawampus. could see er little scrimption er dus' right un'erneath my cawfin, 'n' I jes' itched ter git hol' of er dus' pan 'n' bresh. En the hoss hair sofy, stidder bein' catycornder, so's ter hide that patch in the cyarpet, was set slambang ag'inst the wall. That patch went thoo 'n' thoo me, 'twas so plain ter behol'. Seems like er house keeper same's er snail. She can' git shet of her house no place she goes, 'n' tendin' to it's the only way ter happify 'er. I do hope the Lord's consid'rate 'nough ter have some work fer us women up yander. The

I

over.

men doan need ter do nothin' long's they got craps 'n' politics ter powwow En I'm glad there's many mansions there, for there's er heap er people I ain'ter hankerin' after seein' in heaven above, no mo'n earth beneath, much less livin' in the same mansion with. I always did wonder how relations-in-law was er goin' ter hit it off, 'n' many's the time I've thought er how me 'n' Randy's firs' wife would git on. She's boun' ter have her feelin's, 'n' I'm boun' ter have mine, 'n' there's goin' ter be er clashin' o' the loud cymbal's 'n' some mighty int'restin' things said back'rds 'n' fo'wards. But lawsy mercy! that ainter goin' ter be nothin' longsider what'll happen when Randy joins us. I reckon King Sol'mon 's got all he can 'ten' ter, settlin' all the fracases between firs' 'n' secon''n' third husban's 'n' wives.

I can't say I was sorry when the time come ter put em rway, nor nobody else, I've felt jes' that erway myse'f at fun'als. Not that nobody ain'ter grievin', but they knows that ain't sure 'nough you layin' there, but jes' 'n empty shuck.

Sister Perkins said 'twas mighty curious ter see Sister Dinkins takin' part in somethin' where she wa'n't playin' firs' fiddle. Well, I was playin' firs' fiddle, but mighty low an' quiet like, 'n' foot fo'mos'. Ef I coulder done the bossin' er my own fun'al, there wouldn'ter been no harps nor doves, nor gates ajar, 'n' that foolishness people calls "floral off'rin's," but jes' some bokays stan'in' roun' natchul like.

When they lef' my remains all alone in the buryin' groun', I did feel sorry for it bein' so lonesome, 'n' lef' out in the col' 'n' the dark, but I won't be po'm'nadin' up 'n' down in the big outside much longer, for I kin almos' feel my wings er sproutin'.

THE FUTURE OF MANKIND

ON THE EARTH

ALMOST in the hour that Herbert

Spencer gives the world his last look, pessimistic, angered and disgusted Lecause he has lived to see mankind advance on other lines than those the philosopher had laid down, the first full utterance of a younger philosopher reaches us. It is the principal limitation of all philosophers-and all men- that each can see only a part of the great human problem--the part that is most fully illuminated by the intellectual light of his own age. Each can lead the mass of us a little distance; then he lies down in the earth, and behold, a younger man, applying to old standards of thought the new light of his time, guides us forward until it is time for him too to lie down in the earth and be forgotten. Of old, prophecy was the office of emotionally inspired seers. Today, our prophets, if less poetical, are more reliable: they build theories not on revelations received in dreams, but on foundations of established facts. Each, probably for of

-

such thin stuff is the texture of human nature secretly believes that he has given the world the final solution of all its difficulties: all that it will have to do thereafter is to work out its own salvation in the manner indicated. Hence Mr. Spencer's ill nature, his melancholy spleen, in the last formal utterance he gives to mankind. The world has treated him shabbily in declining to grow according to his plans for its growth.

The young philosopher here alluded to, Mr. Michael A. Lane of Chicago, believes he has discovered the true law

of social progress. He believes that he has defined, for the first time, the ultimate state and condition of mankind on this earth. Perhaps he has; at any rate, he has bodied in his book, The Level of Social Motion, a new conception of social progress and a new theory of human history. He has, moreover, illuminated his writing, necessarily of some profundity, with aptly sketched examples, a play of subtle irony, an ease of style, and a vital simplicity of thought, so that one follows him with something of the same eager interest that is evoked by the adventures of Irving's heroes of Astoria. threading their perilous way through hitherto unexplored regions. If in Mr. Lane's book you are not actually exploring hitherto uncharted regions of thought, you are at least traversing them by a new pathway, guided by one who perceives hitherto unobserved phenomena, and who offers a wholly novel interpretation of the subject. It is an experience at once stimulating and reassuring.

For a more definite statement of the author's purposes, read his preface:

"The pages of this book are addressed to the man and to the woman of average education I have followed this plan in view of the fact that the average man and woman of culture in the present time know more about social growth, and social life in general, than did the learned philosophers of any other age in the history of the human intellect. The time has long since passed when science can belong to the few, and the sooner this fact becomes impressed upon the minds of the men who dig in the laboratories the better it will be for the pro gress of science at large.

"By way of preface I have little to say except to in dicate the character of the work I have attempted to do. This book is the fruit of many years of investiga tion into the phenomena of human society and into the causes of social action in general. My purpose has been to discover a law of social motion which shall har monize the bewildering facts of human history; account for the apparently inconceivable contradictions between human aspirations and human injustice; and fore shadow the future of human society in its moral, intellectual and economic forms. It appears that I have discovered a law of this kind, and I submit the result of my labors to the general public, and at the same time to the scientific world, in the belief that my theory will find capable critics on either hand The most I can do in this preface is to state in the most general way the main conclusions flowing from the law of social motion developed in this book. These conclusions are as follows:

"Human society is rapidly moving toward a state of equality very similar in all essentials to that which is advocated by socialist philosophers as the ideal of a genuinely Christian life. The forces drawing the human race to this remarkable end are the very forces by which human history has been thus far wrought out. They are the same forces described by Darwin in his law of natural selection.

"Accompanying this drift to economical equality will be found several facts of the highest importance in the social evolution of man.

"The brain of civilized woman is increasing in weight. Her intellect is rapidly developing a new and extraordinary capacity, and the ultimate end of this progress in woman will be a social state in which men and women will be intellectually equal, or nearly so.

"The human population of the earth is moving with accelerating force toward a mean, or normal number which, when once reached, can never again be disturbed. "The social conditions upon which this twofold equilibrium will rest- the equilibrium of economic equality and that of a stable number of populationare reacting now, and will react in the future upon the so-called inferior races. It would appear that through the force of progress itself these races must be totally eliminated from the earth. Their elimination will not be accomplished by war or by pestilence; but by the general diffusion of wealth and education which the march of progress demands. The elimination is now going on and is rapidly wiping out more than one race of these inferior men.

"These are the principal conclusions flowing from the law which I have attempted to demonstrate in this volume. There are many other conclusions having to do with the moral, intellectual, and aesthetic progress of the human family, but for light upon these I must refer the reader to the book itself."

In the opening chapter Mr. Lane presents a vivid picture of the intellectual arena in our own time:

"In the widespread discussions which may or may not find their way into print, but all of which deal directly with what are called social questions, we find two kinds of thought and two kinds of thinkers. First, there are men whose sole labor consists in an effort to work some change in the morals and institutions of

civilized humanity. Secondly, there are men whose efforts are directed toward understanding the meaning of that vast and complicated pageant called social pro gress. We need not go far to find a name for those of the first kind described. They have been most felici tously called REFORMERS. They are everywhere in evi dence. They meet us at every turn. They are heard and seen in every quarter, public and private. They pass in one long procession from the throne to the work shop. They are found in the bottom of the mine, in the pulpit, in the professor's chair, in the seat of the legislator and of the judge, at the helm of the journal, in the open streets and at the handle of the plow. But, wherever found, these individuals all partake of one character. They are all ADVOCATES. They all de mand that some reform shall be made in human affairs, whereby there shall be a more even division of the good things created by human labor; whereby justice will be more efficiently served, and the weak shall be protected from the stronger. Most of them have their own programs whereby these things shall be brought about. Some of them are leaders of great schools of reformers with specific plans and elaborate systems of procedure. Others advance some one principle as the supreme recipe for human happiness. Others, again, have no formula for the ills of the body social, but insist that something must be done if society is not to return to worse than the savage. And a few mindsgreat and imperial minds, too-are satisfied that ther is no hope at all for that modern Sisyphus we call Society, whose best efforts can only be rewarded by having the stone of progress roll back upon it, threaten ing danger and disaster."

Mr. Lane advocates nothing. He is seeking the whole truth, rather than attempting to enforce any portion of it. He looks at life as a whole-and man a part of that whole. He perceives that man changes and is changed by his environment. Little and slowly changed by a variable environment, as among the nomadic peoples; much and rapidly changed by a fixed environment. The result of man's contact with environment is wealth. The possession of wealth makes safe and easy the performance of man's two principal functions, -the sustentation of his life and the propagation of his kind. Wealth makes man free. The desire of this wealth is the motive power of human progress.

Each generation sees the total wealth more fairly distributed among all its producers. The golden norm, the ultimate equilibrium of mankind, the heaven on earth that the poets have dreamed of and that Jesus Christ preached in para

bles, misinterpreted for twenty centuries, is to come when all wealth that is not solely the product of individual creative genius shall be shared by all in perfect equality.

There is none of the poet's intuitive leaping from point to point in Mr. Lane's method. His system is coldly scientific. He demonstrates his propositions backward and forward--by analysis and by synthesis and is more concerned to be informed of a flaw in his structure than to be complimented on its general air of beauty and strength. Doubtless the preachers and the teachers of science will man-handle him from the point of view of the experts in prophecy and in science: the purposes of this review are fully served in the suggestion that the layman who will read the book with open mind cannot fail to derive from it a new and larger outlook on life.

Frank Putnam

STEPHEN CRANE

No stone doth mark, as yet, nor mar this grave

Of one who wrote of heroes, and as brave Himself as any hero of the field,

Fell; fell with glory blazoned on his shield.

So here, before a stone may tell his fame, And letter coldly to the world his name, I'll pluck this daisy from the clusters 'round

And plant it loosely in the new-turned ground;

The symbol white perchance may soothe the bed

Of one who wrote with War's own pen of red. Henry D. Muir

ELIZABETH, N. J., July 8, 1900.

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