istics of
Suicides," and I read that more than 8,500 persons had killed themselves
in that year.

In a moment I seemed to see them! I saw this voluntary and hideous
massacre of the despairing who were weary of life. I saw men bleeding,
their jaws fractured, their skulls cloven, their breasts pierced by a
bullet, slowly dying, alone in a little room in a hotel, giving no
thought to their wound, but thinking only of their misfortunes.

I saw others seated before a tumbler in which some matches were soaking,
or before a little bottle with a red label.

They would look at it fixedly without moving; then they would drink and
await the result; then a spasm would convulse their cheeks and draw their
lips together; their eyes would grow wild with terror, for they did not
know that the end would be preceded by so much suffering.

They rose to their feet, paused, fell over and with their hands pressed
to their stomachs they felt their internal organs on fire, their entrails
devoured by the fiery liquid, before their minds began to grow dim.

I saw others hanging from a nail in the wall, from the fastening of the
window, from a hook in the ceiling, from a beam in the garret, from a
branch of a tree amid the evening rain. And I surmised all that had
happened before they hung there motionless, their tongues hanging out of
their mouths. I imagined the anguish of their heart, their final
hesitation, their attempts to fasten the rope, to determine that it was
secure, then to pass the noose round their neck and to let themselves
fall.

I saw others lying on wretched beds, mothers with their little children,
old men dying of hunger, young girls dying for love, all rigid,
suffocated, asphyxiated, while in the center of the room the brasier
still gave forth the fumes of charcoal.

And I saw others walking at night along the deserted bridges. These were
the most sinister. The water flowed under the arches with a low sound.
They did not see it . . . they guessed at it from its cool breath! They
longed for it and they feared it. They dared not do it! And yet, they
must. A distant clock sounded the hour and, suddenly, in the vast silence
of the night, there was heard the splash of a body falling into the
river, a scream or two, the sound of hands beating the water, and all was
still. Sometimes, even, there was only the sound of the falling body when
they had tied their arms down or fastened a stone to their feet. Oh, the
poor things, t