net-Sully, Paulus,
etc., present, followed by concerts, the comedies of Dumas, of Meilhac,
Halevy and Sardon. We had only one thing to mar it, one drama by Becque
which seemed sad, but which subsequently had a great success at the
Comedie-Francaise. In fact all Paris came. The enterprise was launched."

"In the midst of the festivities! What a funereal joke!"

"Not at all. Death need not be sad, it should be a matter of
indifference. We made death cheerful, crowned it with flowers, covered it
with perfume, made it easy. One learns to aid others through example; one
can see that it is nothing."

"I can well understand that they should come to the entertainments; but
did they come to . . . Death?"

"Not at first; they were afraid."

"And later?"

"They came."

"Many of them?"

"In crowds. We have had more than forty in a day. One finds hardly any
more drowned bodies in the Seine."

"Who was the first?"

"A club member."

"As a sacrifice to the cause?"

"I don't think so. A man who was sick of everything, a 'down and out' who
had lost heavily at baccarat for three months."

"Indeed?"

"The second was an Englishman, an eccentric. We then advertised in the
papers, we gave an account of our methods, we invented some attractive
instances. But the great impetus was given by poor people."

"How do you go to work?"

"Would you like to see? I can explain at the same time."

"Yes, indeed."

He took his hat, opened the door, allowed me to precede him, and we
entered a card room, where men sat playing as they, play in all gambling
places. They were chatting cheerfully, eagerly. I have seldom seen such a
jolly, lively, mirthful club.

As I seemed surprised, the secretary said:

"Oh, the establishment has an unheard of prestige. All the smart people
all over the world belong to it so as to appear as though they held death
in scorn. Then, once they get here, they feel obliged to be cheerful that
they may not appear to be afraid. So they joke and laugh and talk
flippantly, they are witty and they become so. At present it is certainly
the most frequented and the most entertaining place in Paris. The women
are even thinking of building an annex for themselves."

"And, in spite of all this, you have many suicides in the house?"

"As I said, about forty or fifty a day. Society people are rare, but poor
devils abound. The middle class has also a large contingent.

"And how . . . do they do?"

"They are asphyxi