I am now forty-four years old, and have just reached the threshold of mental strength. As I am in perfect condition physically, and have a splendid constitution as a foundation, there is no good reason why I could not have lived at least forty years more. Forty years longer could I have served the world at my very best, but my fellow beings have decided to kill me, right at a time when I could have been of the most use to them. I am really sorry that I must die, not because I fear death, but because my opportunity to do good to others is taken from me. Twenty-two years ago I was anxious to die, aye even by my own hand. I thought that there was nothing to live for at that time. But the beautiful teachings of the great Sagewoman awakened new ideas of responsibility within me, and now I can see that the grandest thing within the reach of a human being is to live; live as long as nature will allow; live for others. Natural Law teaches that it is idiotic to pray, and I believe that prayer is a form of insanity, but were I to pray, which I profess I have no idea of doing, my one request of the Creator would be that I might live out my life, in order to spread the principles of Natural Law to the furthermost corners of the earth; or, that I might be born again in a well-constructed body, with a mind capable of grasping nature's ideas in their entirety, and interpreting them to my fellow men in a way that could not be misunderstood. If the Creator would grant me this request, and I could have the ability and the power to change the conditions of the earth to those existing in Sageland before the Catastrophe, I would gladly give in exchange for the privilege, my eternal soul as a sacrifice, and take upon myself everlastingly, all of the misery, suffering, and torture now inflicted upon the rest of mankind. Good-bye, dear reader, and may your soul always guide you. END OF JOHN CONVERT'S WORK. Epilogue on following pages. EPILOGUE FROM THE NEW YORK DAILY (Special Despatch:) "SING SING, N. Y., 11 A. M.-Electrocution day here always attracts many curious people about the prison walls, but the much heralded execution of John Convert seems to have brought an unusual number of persons to this neighborhood, and the hill overlooking the prison is almost black with people, who have come from all parts of the State. "Viewed from this hill, Sing Sing prison presents the appearance of a huge, square pen, covering many acres of land, and enclosed by a high, brick wall on the three land sides, and a tall, iron picket fence on the side adjoining the Hudson River. "On the top of these walls, sentinels are stationed at intervals, who walk back and forth, armed with breech-loading rifles, and under orders to shoot dead any prisoner attempting to escape.