were rows of tall trees that covered all the
bank with an immense wall of verdure.

The sensation of life which is renewed each day, of fresh, happy, loving
life trembled in the leaves, palpitated in the air, was mirrored in the
water.

The postman had just brought my papers, which were handed to me, and I
walked slowly to the river bank in order to read them.

In the first paper I opened I noticed this headline, "Statistics 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