Euripides put the following words in the mouth of Hercules: “I have considered, and, though oppressed with misfortunes, I have determined thus: Let no one depart out of life through fear of what may happen to him; for he who is not able to resist evils will fly, like a coward, from the darts of the enemy.”
When Buonaparte was told of the prevalent opinion, that he ought not to have survived his political downfall, he calmly replied—“No, no; I have not enough of the Roman in me to destroy myself.” After reasoning, with considerable ingenuity, on the subject of suicide, he concluded by giving expression to this decided opinion:—“Suicide is a crime the most revolting to my feelings; nor does any reason present itself to my understanding by which it can be justified. It certainly originates in that species of fear which we denominate cowardice, (poltronnerie.) For what claim can that man have to courage who trembles at the frowns of fortune? True heroism consists in becoming superior to the ills of life, in whatever shape they may challenge him to the combat.” He might have added—“Tu ne cede malis, sed contrà audentior ito.” On another occasion, when talking on the subject of suicide, Buonaparte observed, “If Marius had slain himself in the marshes of Minturnæ, he never would have stood the seventh time for consul.” After having been some time at St. Helena, he one day spoke further on the subject of suicide. He observed:—“With respect to the English language, I have been very diligent. I now read your newspapers with ease; and must own that they afford me no inconsiderable amusement. They are occasionally inconsistent, and sometimes abusive. In one paper I am called a Lear; in another, a tyrant; in a third, a monster; and in one of them—which I really did not expect—I am described as a coward. But it turned out, after all, that the writer did not accuse me of avoiding danger in the field of battle, or flying from an enemy, or fearing to look at the menaces of fate and fortune. It did not charge me with wanting presence of mind in the hurry of battle, and in the suspense of conflicting armies; no such thing. I wanted courage, it seems, because I did not coolly take a dose of poison, or throw myself into the sea, or blow out my brains. The editor most certainly misunderstands me; I have, at least, too much courage for that.”[18]
We think it has decidedly been established in the preceding observations that suicide is a crime clearly prohibited in the Bible; that it is, in every sense of the term, self-murder; and that our duty to our Creator, to ourselves, and to society, loudly calls upon us to denounce it, and hold it up to the scorn and reprobation of mankind. How terrifically has Dryden, in his Fables, portrayed the condition of the unfortunate suicide in another world:—
“The slayer of himself, too, saw I there:
The gore, congealed, was clotted in his hair.
With eyes half closed, and mouth wide ope, he lay,
And grim as when he breathed his sullen soul away.”