“The objection,” answered the man, “is found in this:  it is so deep a sin to kill; it is so easy a thing to die—­for what is death?  The ignorant dread it because they do not analyze it; their lack of thoughtfulness makes them cowardly; for death is going out of bondage into liberty.  He who passes through the dark gate finds himself, when he has passed, standing in the cloudless sunshine.  In dying, the sorrowful become glad; the small become greater; and if they die rightly, the sinful become sinless.  If a great motive prompts us to death, it is the perfect regeneration.  Entering thus the new life, man is born anew.  And so in punishment the great law of mercy stands revealed, and sin leads up to sinlessness.  In such travail of soul, he who suffers through suffering is satisfied.”

“It is sublime philosophy,” exclaimed Herbert, “but few are great enough to practice it.”

“Rather, sir,” exclaimed the man, “few are knowing enough to accept it.  The eyes of men, through their ignorance, are blinded by fear and they see not the delivering gates though they stand facing the open passage.”

“Life is sweet.”

The words fell from the lips of Herbert as if they spoke themselves.

“To the innocent, life is sweet,” answered the man, “but to the guilty, life is bitterness.  The world was not made for the guilty.  The beauties and glories of it were not for them.  The universe is not sustained for them.  Only for the good do things exist.  The breasts of life are full; but their nourishment is not for guilty lips to draw.  I have seen the time when life was sweet.  I have lived to see the time when life is bitter.  Through death I go out of bitterness into sweetness.  This is the mercy that is unto all and which all can take—­take freely.  Some get it through another—­all might get it through themselves.”

“It is a violent deed to kill one’s self,” said the trapper.

“You mistake,” answered the man, “there is a coarse, rude way; there is a fine and noble way.  ‘I have power,’ said the Man, ’to lay down my life and I have power to take it again.’  Do you not think, old trapper, that a man can die when he wills?”

“I don’t understand ye,” answered the trapper.

“The soul rules the body,” replied the stranger.  “The soul is not bound to the body; it lives in it as a man lives in his house.  My body is only my environment.  I can quit it at will.  I can go out of it.”

“Do you mean to say,” asked Herbert, “that we can leave our bodies through determination of purpose and mental decision?”

[Illustration:  “The four sat in silence by the fire.”]

“There have been such cases,” answered the man, “and such cases there might be continually.  If the relations between the soul and the body are recognized and the supreme authority of the one over the other allowed full action, the soul can do anything it pleases.  It can come and it can go.  This is my faith.”