the life I dreaded, now divided my attention with the belief that the
stroke had fallen. From that time my one thought was to hasten the end,
for I felt that I should lose the chance to die should relatives find
me in an attack of epilepsy.

Considering the state of my mind and my inability at that time to
appreciate the enormity of such an end as I half contemplated, my
suicidal purpose was not entirely selfish. That I had never seriously
contemplated suicide is proved by the fact that I had not provided
myself with the means of accomplishing it, despite my habit, has long
been remarked by my friends, of preparing even for unlikely
contingencies. So far as I had the control of my faculties, it must be
admitted that I deliberated; but, strictly speaking, the rash act which
followed cannot correctly be called an attempt at suicide--for how can
a man who is not himself kill himself?

Soon my disordered brain was busy with schemes for death. I distinctly
remember one which included a row on Lake Whitney, near New Haven. This
I intended to take in the most unstable boat obtainable. Such a craft
could be easily upset, and I should so bequeath to relatives and
friends a sufficient number of reasonable doubts to rob my death of the
usual stigma. I also remember searching for some deadly drug which I
hoped to find about the house. But the quantity and quality of what I
found were not such as I dared to trust. I then thought of severing my
jugular vein, even going so far as to test against my throat the edge
of a razor which, after the deadly impulse first asserted itself, I had
secreted in a convenient place. I really wished to die, but so
uncertain and ghastly a method did not appeal to me. Nevertheless, had
I felt sure that in my tremulous frenzy I could accomplish the act with
skilful dispatch, I should at once have ended my troubles.