And even to the most fortunate, death at last is a welcome deliverer. Death is as natural and as merciful as life. When we have journeyed long--when we are weary--when we wish for the twilight, for the dusk, for the cool kisses of the night--when the senses are dull--when the pulse is faint and low--when the mists gather on the mirror of memory--when the past is almost forgotten, the present hardly perceived--when the future has but empty hands--death is as welcome as a strain of music. After all, death is not so terrible as joyless life. Next to eternal happiness is to sleep in the soft clasp of the cool earth, disturbed by no dream, by no thought, by no pain, by no fear, unconscious of all and forever. The wonder is that so many live, that in spite of rags and want, in spite of tenement and gutter, of filth and pain, they, limp and stagger and crawl beneath their burdens to the natural end. The wonder is that so few of the miserable are brave enough to die--that so many are terrified by the "something after death"--by the spectres and phantoms of superstition. Most people are in love with life. How they cling to it in the arctic snows--how they struggle in the waves and currents of the sea--how they linger in famine--how they fight disaster and despair! On the crumbling edge of death they keep the flag flying and go down at last full of hope and courage. But many have not such natures. They cannot bear defeat. They are disheartened by disaster. They lie down on the field of conflict and give the earth their blood. They are our unfortunate brothers and sisters. We should not curse or blame--we should pity. On their pallid faces our tears should fall. One of the best men I ever knew, with an affectionate wife, a charming and loving daughter, committed suicide. He was a man of generous impulses. His heart was loving and tender. He was conscientious, and so sensitive that he blamed himself for having done what at the time he thought was wise and best. He was the victim of his virtues. Let us be merciful in our judgments. All we can say is that the good and the bad, the loving and the malignant, the conscientious and the vicious, the educated and the ignorant, actuated by many motives, urged and pushed by circumstances and conditions--sometimes in the calm of judgment, sometimes in passion's storm and stress, sometimes in whirl and tempest of insanity--raise their hands against themselves and desperately put out the light of life. Those who attempt suicide should not be punished. If they are insane they should if possible be restored to reason; if sane, they should be reasoned with, calmed and assisted. R. G. Ingersoll. COL. INGERSOLL'S REPLY TO HIS CRITICS. IN the article written by me about suicide the ground was taken that "under many circumstances a man has the right to kill himself."