Up to this point I have been speaking of human beings only, living under improved conditions that man has made. What must be the horror, darkness and emptiness of those living substances that are "inferior" to us? Do you know and realize the suffering that we endure? Then let me, in passing, urge this: Be also kind and considerate to our less fortunate inhabitants of this earth, the "dumb" animals. Their feelings are quite similar to ours. They have gone through the rougher parts of evolution that gave to us our more useful organs and limbs. They are allied to us in much the same manner as the members of our own species. They have their painful aches and periods, their hardships and tortures, their broken family ties and fearful abhorrence of death; their flesh is tender and their skin is as delicate to them as ours is to us. So let us "think twice," dear readers, before we deliberately harm any of our humbler brothers and sisters that must inhabit this cold and callous earth and live their lives under a great deal more tyranny and injustice than we live ours. We deliberately enslave and brutally treat the gentle horse. We tyrannically imprison birds and fishes as "pets." We keep, breed, kill and eat a variety of animals for our own selfish purposes, and yet some persons still have the audacity to say that we are "chosen people," "God's children," "divine beings." Bah! You know what painful inconvenience there is in losing an arm or a leg. Well, the winged and footed beings that must bear this life suffer a great deal more than we do when one of their limbs becomes dismembered. Man has to a degree remedied or replaced his crippled limbs, but I do not think any other of the higher animals have advanced so far, and as a result these creatures must endure their pain and distressing annoyance to the end. Recently I watched a common house fly caught upon "fly paper," and studied intently every visible movement of it. Immediately upon alighting upon the sticky substance, its first thought, almost instantaneously, was to make an effort to free itself. At once I thought of the fly's instinct of "self-preservation," and contrasted it with the human's. The fly must have had intelligence, since it knew that its life was in danger. And, since Nature does not deal in "fly paper," the fly's reasoning power told it of its peril. With unabated determination it vibrated its wings with lightning-like rapidity, and worked its legs unceasingly, _breaking them in the attempt_, in its efforts to pull itself away to freedom! As I watched this fly in its labor, this thought came to me: Is the fly unlike the human being in its desire to live? Is it afraid of death and of the mystery of dissolution? Has it, too, all the agony of fear of passing to the "Great Beyond"? Has it, too, an imaginary God in the form of a Big Fly? And is it also afraid of that God's supposed wrath? If the fly's desire to live is so great, what interest does it have in life?