David Hume
Contents:
On Suicide
Anti-Suicide (by an anonymous editor)
From Rousseau's Eloisa:
Letter
114
Letter
115
[note: spelling is not modernized]
[Hegasias: The notes for this edition have been removed.]
Copyright notice: (c) 1995, James Fieser (jfieser@utm.edu). This text file may be freely distributed for personal and classroom use with this copyright notice attached. When quoting from this text, please use the following citation: , David Hume, Version 1.0, ed. James Fieser (Internet Release, 1995).
One considerable advantage that arises from Philosophy, consists in the sovereign antidote which it affords to superstition and false religion. All other remedies against that pestilent distemper are vain, or at least uncertain. Plain good sense and the practice of the world, which alone serve most purposes of life, are here found ineffectual: History as well as daily experience furnish instances of men endowed with the strongest capacity for business and affairs, who have all their lives crouched under slavery to the grossest superstition. Even gaiety and sweetness of temper, which infuse a balm into every other wound, afford no remedy to so virulent a poison; as we may particularly observe of the fair sex, who tho' commonly possest of their rich presents of nature, feel many of their joys blasted by this importunate intruder. But when found Philosophy has once gained possession of the mind, superstition is effectually excluded, and one may fairly affirm that her triumph over this enemy is more complete than over most of the vices and imperfections incident to human nature. Love or anger, ambition or avarice, have their root in the temper and affection, which the soundest reason is scarce ever able fully to correct, but superstition being founded on false opinion, must immediately vanish when true philosophy has inspired juster sentiments of superior powers. The contest is here more equal between the distemper and the medicine, and nothing can hinder the latter from proving effectual but its being false and sophisticated.
It will here be superfluous to magnify the merits of Philosophy by displaying the pernicious tendency of that vice of which it cures the human mind. The superstitious man says Tully is miserable in every scene, in every incident in life; even sleep itself, which banishes all other cares of unhappy mortals, affords to him matter of new terror; while he examines his dreams, and finds in those visions of the night prognostications of future calamities. I may add that tho' death alone can put a full period to his misery, he dares not fly to this refuge, but still prolongs a miserable existence from a vain fear left he offend his Maker, by using the power, with which that beneficent being has endowed him. The presents of God and nature are ravished from us by this cruel enemy, and notwithstanding that one step would remove us from the regions of pain and sorrow, her menaces still chain us down to a hated being which she herself chiefly contributes to render miserable.
'Tis observed by such as have been reduced by the calamities of life to the necessity of employing this fatal remedy, that if the unseasonable care of their friends deprive them of that species of Death which they proposed to themselves, they seldom venture upon any other, or can summon up so much resolution a second time as to execute their purpose. So great is our horror of death, that when it presents itself under any form, besides that to which a man has endeavoured to reconcile his imagination, it acquires new terrors and overcomes his feeble courage: But when the menaces of superstition are joined to this natural timidity, no wonder it quite deprives men of all power over their lives, since even many pleasures and enjoyments, to which we are carried by a strong propensity, are torn from us by this inhuman tyrant. Let us here endeavour to restore men to their native liberty, by examining all the common arguments against Suicide, and shewing that that action may be free from every imputation of guilt or blame, according to the sentiments of all the antient philosophers.
If Suicide be criminal, it must be a transgression of our duty either to God, our neighbour, or ourselves. -- To prove that suicide is no transgression of our duty to God, the following considerations may perhaps suffice. In order to govern the material world, the almighty Creator has established general and immutable laws, by which all bodies, from the greatest planet to the smallest particle of matter, are maintained in their proper sphere and function. To govern the animal world, he has endowed all living creatures with bodily and mental powers; with senses, passions, appetites, memory, and judgement, by which they are impelled or regulated in that course of life to which they are destined. These two distinct principles of the material and animal world, continually encroach upon each other, and mutually retard or forward each others operation. The powers of men and of all other animals are restrained and directed by the nature and qualities of the surrounding bodies, and the modifications and actions of these bodies are incessantly altered by the operation of all animals. Man is stopt by rivers in his passage over the surface of the earth; and rivers, when properly directed, lend their force to the motion of machines, which serve to the use of man. But tho' the provinces of the material and animal powers are not kept entirely separate, there results from thence no discord or disorder in the creation; on the contrary, from the mixture, union, and contrast of all the various powers of inanimate bodies and living creatures, arises that sympathy, harmony, and proportion, which affords the surest argument of supreme wisdom. The providence of the Deity appears not immediately in any operation, but governs every thing by those general and immutable laws, which have been established from the beginning of time. All events, in one sense, may be pronounced the action of the Almighty, they all proceed from those powers with which he has endowed his creatures. A house which falls by its own weight, is not brought to ruin by his providence, more than one destroyed by the hands of men; nor are the human faculties less his workmanship, than the laws of motion and gravitation. When the passions play, when the judgment dictates, when the limbs obey; this is all the operation of God, and upon these animate principles, as well as upon the inanimate, has he established the government of the universe. Every event is alike important in the eyes of that infinite being, who takes in at one glance the most distant regions of space, and remotest periods of time. There is no event, however important to us, which he has exempted from the general laws that govern the universe, or which he has peculiarly reserved for his own immediate action and operation. The revolution of states and empires depends upon the smallest caprice or passion of single men; and the lives of men are shortened or extended by the smallest accident of air or dies, sunshine or tempest. Nature still continues her progress and operation; and if general laws be ever broke by particular volitions of the Deity, 'tis after a manner which entirely escapes human observation. As on the one hand, the elements and other inanimate parts of the creation carry on their action without regard to the particular interest and situation of men; so men are entrusted to their own judgment and discretion in the various shocks of matter, and may employ every faculty with which they are endowed, in order to provide for their ease, happiness, or preservation. What is the meaning then of that principle, that a man who tired of life, and hunted by pain and misery, bravely overcomes all the natural terrors of death, and makes his escape from this cruel scene: that such a man I say, has incurred the indignation of his Creator by encroaching on the office of divine providence, and disturbing the order of the universe? Shall we assert that the Almighty has reserved to himself in any peculiar manner the disposal of the lives of men, and has not submitted that event, in common with others, to the general laws by which the universe is governed? This is plainly false; the lives of men depend upon the same laws as the lives of all other animals; and these are subjected to the general laws of matter and motion. The fall of a tower, or the infusion of a poison, will destroy a man equally with the meanest creature; an inundation sweeps away every thing without distinction that comes within the reach of its fury. Since therefore the lives of men are for ever dependant on the general laws of matter and motion, is a man's disposing of his life criminal, because in every case it is criminal to encroach upon these laws, or disturb their operation? But this seems absurd; all animals are entrusted to their own prudence and skill for their conduct in the world, and have full authority as far as their power extends, to alter all the operations of nature. Without the excercise of this authority they could not subsist a moment; every action, every motion of a man, innovates on the order of some parts of matter, and diverts from their ordinary course the general laws of motion. Putting together, therefore, these conclusion, we find that human life depends upon the general laws of matter and motion, and that it is no encroachment on the office of providence to disturb or alter these general laws: Has not every one, of consequence, the free disposal of his own life? And may he not lawfully employ that power with which nature has endowed him? In order to destroy the evidence of this conclusion, we must shew a reason why this particular cafe is excepted; is it because human life is of such great importance, that 'tis a presumption for human prudence to dispose of it? But the life of a man is of no greater importance to the universe than that of an oyster. And were it of ever so great importance, the order of human nature has actually submitted it to human prudence, and reduced us to a necessity, in every incident, of determining concerning it. -- Were the disposal of human life so much reserved as the peculiar province of the Almighty, that it were an encroachment on his right, for men to dispose of their own lives; it would be equally criminal to act for the preservation of life as for its destruction. If I turn aside a stone which is falling upon my head, I disturb the course of nature, and I invade the peculiar province of the Almighty, by lengthening out my life beyond the period which by the general laws of matter and motion he had assigned it.
A hair, a fly, an insect is able to destroy this mighty being whose life is of such importance. Is it an absurdity to suppose that human prudence may lawfully dispose of what depends on such insignificant causes? It would be no crime in me to divert the Nile or Danube from its course, were I able to effect such purposes. Where then is the crime of turning a few ounces of blood from their natural channel? -- Do you imagine that I repine at Providence or curse my creation, because I go out of life, and put a period to a being, which, were it to continue, would render me miserable? Far be such sentiments from me; I am only convinced of a matter of fact, which you yourself acknowledge possible, that human life may be unhappy, and that my existence, if further prolonged, would become ineligible; but I thank Providence, both for the good which I have already enjoyed, and for the power with which I am endowed of escaping the ill that threatens me. To you it belongs to repine at providence, who foolishly imagine that you have no such power, and who must still prolong a hated life, tho' loaded with pain and sickness, with shame and poverty -- Do not you teach, that when any ill befals me, tho' by the malice of my enemies, I ought to be resigned to providence, and that the actions of men are the operations of the Almighty as much as the actions of inanimate beings? When I fall upon my own sword, therefore, I receive my death equally from the hands of the Deity as if it had proceeded from a lion, a precipice, or a fever. The submission which you require to providence, in every calamity that befals me, excludes not human skill and industry, if possible by their means I can avoid or escape the calamity: And why may I not employ one remedy as well as another? -- If my life be not my own, it were criminal for me to put it in danger, as well as to dispose of it; nor could one man deserve the appellation of hero, whom glory or friendship transports into the greatest dangers, and another merit the reproach of wretch or misereant who puts a period to his life, from the same or like motives.-- There is no being, which possesses any power or faculty, that it receives not from its Creator, nor is there any one, which by ever so irregular an action can encroach upon the plan of his providence, or disorder the universe. Its operations are his works equally with that chain of events which it invades, and which ever principle prevails, we may for that very reason conclude it to be most favoured by him. Be it animate, or inanimate, rational, or irrational, 'tis all a cafe: its power is still derived from the supreme Creator, and is alike comprehended in the order of his providence. When the horror of pain prevails over the love of life; when a voluntary action anticipates the effects of blind causes, 'tis only in consequence of those powers and principles which he has implanted in his creatures. Divine providence is still inviolate, and placed far beyond the reach of human injuries. 'Tis impious says the old Roman superstition to divert rivers from their course, or invade the prerogatives of nature. 'Tis impious says the French superstition to inoculate for the small-pox, or usurp the business of providence by voluntarily producing distempers and maladies. 'Tis impious says the modern superstition, to put a period to our own life, and thereby rebel against our Creator; and why not impious, say I, to build houses, cultivate the ground, or sail upon the ocean? In all these actions we employ our powers of mind and body, to produce some innovation in the course of nature; and in none of them do we any more. They are all of them therefore equally innocent, or equally criminal. But you are placed by providence, like a centinal, in a particular station, and when you desert it without being recalled, you are equally guilty of rebellion against your almighty sovereign, and have incurred his displeasure. -- I ask, why do you conclude that providence has placed me in this station? For my part I find that I owe my birth to a long chain of causes, of which many depended upon voluntary actions of men. . If so, then neither does my death, however voluntary, happen without its consent; and whenever pain or sorrow so far overcome my patience, as to make me tired of life, I may conclude that I am recalled from my station in the clearest and most express terms. 'Tis providence surely that has placed me at this present in this chamber: But may I not leave it when I think proper, without being liable to the imputation of having deserted my post or station? When I shall be dead, the principles of which I am composed will still perform their part in the universe, and will be equally useful in the grand fabrick, as when they composed this individual creature. The difference to the whole will be no greater than betwixt my being in a chamber and in the open air. The one change is of more importance to me than the other; but not more so to the universe. -- 'Tis a kind of blasphemy to imagine that any created being can disturb the order of the world, or invade the business of Providence! It supposes, that that being possesses powers and faculties, which it received not from its creator, and which are not subordinate to his government and authority. A man may disturb society no doubt, and thereby incur the displeasure of the Almighty: But the government of the world is placed far beyond his reach and violence. And how does it appear that the Almighty is displeased with those actions that disturb society? By the principles which he has implanted in human nature, and which inspire us with a sentiment of remorse if we ourselves have been guilty of such actions, and with that of blame and disapprobation, if we ever observe them in others: -- Let us now examine, according to the method proposed, whether Suicide be of this kind of actions, and be a breach of our duty to our neighbour and to society.
A man who retires from life does no harm to society: He only ceases to do good; which, if it is an injury, is of the lowest kind. -- All our obligations to do good to society seem to imply something reciprocal. I receive the benefits of society, and therefore ought to promote its interests; but when I withdraw myself altogether from society, can I be bound any longer? But allowing that our obligations to do good were perpetual, they have certainly some bounds; I am not obliged to do a small good to society at the expence of a great harm to myself; why then should I prolong a miserable existence, because of some frivolous advantage which the public may perhaps receive from me? If upon account of age and infirmities, I may lawfully resign any office, and employ my time altogether in fencing against these calamities, and alleviating, as much as possible, the miseries of my future life: why may I not cut short these miseries at once by an action which is no more prejudicial to society? -- But suppose that it is no longer in my power to promote the interest of society, suppose that I am a burden to it, suppose that my life hinders some person from being much more useful to society. In such cases, my resignation of life must not only be innocent, but laudable. And most people who lie under any temptation to abandon existence, are in some such situation; those who have health, or power, or authority, have commonly better reason to be in humour with the world.
A man is engaged in a conspiracy for the public interest; is seized upon suspicion; is threatened with the rack; and knows from his own weakness that the secret will be extorted from him: Could such a one consult the public interest better than by putting a quick period to a miserable life? This was the case of the famous and brave Strozi of Florence. -- Again, suppose a malefactor is justly condemned to a shameful death, can any reason be imagined, why he may not anticipate his punishment, and save himself all the anguish of thinking on its dreadful approaches? He invades the business of providence no more than the magistrate did, who ordered his execution; and his voluntary death is equally advantageous to society, by ridding it of a pernicious member.
That Suicide may often be consistent with interest and with our duty to ourselves, no one can question, who allows that age, sickness, or misfortune, may render life a burthen, and make it worse even than annihilation. I believe that no man ever threw away life, while it was worth keeping. For such is our natural horror of death, that small motives will never be able to reconcile us to it; and though perhaps the situation of a man's health or fortune did not seem to require this remedy, we may at least be assured that any one who, without apparent reason, has had recourse to it, was curst with such an incurable depravity or gloominess of temper as must poison all enjoyment, and render him equally miserable as if he had been loaded with the most grievous misfortunes. -- If suicide be supposed a crime, 'tis only cowardice can impel us to it. If it be no crime, both prudence and courage should engage us to rid ourselves at once of existence, when it becomes a burthen. 'Tis the only way that we can then be useful to society, by setting an example, which if imitated, would preserve to every one his chance for happiness in life, and would effectually free him from all danger of misery.
ANTI SUICIDE
(response to Hume's Essay by an anonymous editor)
(1) THIS elaborate eulogium on philosophy points
obliquely at religion, which we christians consider as the only sovereign
antidote to every disease incident to the mind of man. It is indeed hard
to say what reason might do were it freed from all restraints, especially
if a succession of philosophers were incessantly improving on one another
as they went on, avoiding and correcting the mistakes of those who preceded
them in the same pursuit, till at last one complete and rational system
was effected. Great things might probably be accomplished in this manner.
But no such plan in fact ever was or is likely to be finished. Neither
priestcraft, nor magisterial powers, however, cramped the progress of improving
reason, or baffled the genius of enquiring man. The principles of religion
and virtue were freely canvassed by the boldest spirits of antiquity. In
truth, the superior advantage and necessity of the christian religion seems
manifest from this particular circumstance, that it has taken away every
possible restraint from natural religion, allowing it to exert itself to
the utmost in finding out the fundamental truths of virtue, and in acquiescing
in them, in openly avowing and acknowledging them when revealed, in extending
the views and expectations of men, in giving them more just and liberal
sentiments, and in publickly and uniformly disclaiming any intention of
establishing a kingdom for its votaries or believers in this world.
THE doctrines of the gospel are not intended
to instruct us in the knowledge of every thing which may be really useful
in the present life, far less of every thing, which, from curiosity alone,
we may have a mighty desire to know. Revelation considers mankind in their
highest capacity, as the rational and accountable subjects of God, and
as capable both of present and future happiness or misery, according to
their behaviour. Its chief, if not its sole design, is to give us those
views and impressions of our nature, of our state, of the perfections,
the counsels, the laws, and the government of God, which, under the influence
of providence, are the immediate and infallible means of the purity, of
the comfort, and of the moral order, rectitude, and excellence of our immortal
souls. As corrupted and disordered, we are incapable of true happiness,
till purified and restored to order. As guilty and mortal creatures, we
can have no true consolation without the hopes of pardon in a future and
seperate state of existence. As surrounded with dangers, and obnoxious
to every dismal apprehension, we can possess no solid, or permanent content,
but in the sincere and well grounded convictions of that gracious and righteous
administration so minutely and explicitly delineated in the scriptures.
It is evident, therefore, that the principal excellence and utility of
revealed truths upon the sanctification and consolation of our hearts.
They tally exactly with the present circumstances of mankind, and are admirably
adapted to cure every disease, every disorder of the human mind, to beget,
to cherish, and confirm every pure, every virtuous, every pious disposition.
MANKIND are certainly at present in a state
of the deepest corruption and depravity, and at the same time apt to continue
strangely insensible of the misery and danger to which, under the government
of infinite wisdom, it necessarily renders them. Nothing can be conceived
more fit to rouse them from their
lethargy, and to awaken them to a just sense of their condition, than
a messenger from Heaven, clothed with divine authority, setting before
them the intrinsic baseness, malignity, and wretchedness of vice, together
with the certain, the dreadful, the eternal consequences of continuing
in it.
COULD we enter upon a particular view of all
those maladies and disorders which infest and destroy the souls of men,
it were easy to shew, that a steadfast belief of religion is, in truth,
the most natural and the best antidote or remedy for each of them. It is
obvious, or least, that the clear and full manifestation, which the gospel
has given of the character of God, and the laws of his moral government,
and of the terms of
salvation through faith in the religion of his son, are all finely
calculated to root out the principles of superstition, and all false notions,
destructive to the virtue and happiness of mankind, and to plant in their
room whatever has a natural and direct tendency to promote our virtue,
our perfection, our felicity.
(2) CLEOMENES, king of Sparta, when suffering
under misfortune, was advised to kill himself by Tharyceon. "Thinkest thou,
wicked man, (said he) to shew thy fortitude by rushing upon death, an expedient
always at hand, the dastardly resource of the basest minds? Better than
we, by the fortune of arms, or overpowered by numbers, have left the field
of battle to their enemies; but he who, to avoid pain, or calamity, or
censures of men, gives up the contest, we are to seek death, that death
ought to be in action. It is base to live or die only for ourselves. All
we gain by suicide is to get our own reputation, or doing the
least service to our country. In hopes, then, we may yet be of some
use to others, both methinks are bound to preserve life as long as we can.
Whenever these hopes shall have altogether abandoned us, death, if sought
for, will readily be found.
(3) OF all the refines cobwebs, to which sophistry
has given birth, this seems at once the most elaborate and the most flimsy.
It seems one of the first and most indisputable maxims in all found reasoning,
that no ideas whatever should have a place in the premises, which do not
communicate a sensible energy to the conclusion. But where is the connection
between the beginning and end of this wire-drawn argument. What have the
various beautiful facts, thus elegantly stated, to do with a man's taking
away his own life? Though the greatest philosopher be of no more consequence
to the general system of things than an oyster, and though the life of
the one were, in every respect, as perfectly insignificant as that of the
other, still the meanest of mankind is not without importance in his own
eyes. And where is he who is guided uniformly, in all his actions, more
by a sense of his relation to the universe at large, than by the value
he retains for himself, or the deference he has to his own opinion.
NO deduction, however plausible, can produce
conviction in any rational mind, which originates in a supposition grossly
absurd. Is it possible to conceive the author of nature capable of authenticating
a deed, which ultimately terminates in the total annihilation of the system?
By which of the creatures beneath us is the first law of their being thus
daringly violated? And if suicide be eligible to man, under any possible
misfortune or distress, why not to them? Are not they also subject to the
various miseries which arise from wayward accidents and hostile elements?
Why, therefore, open a door for our escape from those evils of which others
have their share, to whom, however, it must remain for ever shut?
IN truth, the existence of all animals depends
entirely on their inviolable attachment to self-preservation. Their attention
to all is accordingly the obvious and common condition of all their natures.
By this great and operative principle nature has chiefly consulted her
own safety. Our philosopher's notions are so extremely hostile to her most
essential institutions, that she could not possibly survive a general conviction
of them. And, in spite of all the sophistry he is master of, the question
here will eternally recur, whether the wisdom of nature, or the philosophy
of our author, deserves the preference.
(4) THIS apology for the commission, arising
from man's insignificance in the moral world, from the reciprocation of
social duty being dissolved, or from the benefit resulting from the voluntary
dismission of being, is contrary to the soundest principles of jurisprudence,
to the condition of human nature, and to the general establishment of things.
THAT a man who retires from life, does no
harm to society, is a proposition peculiarly absurd and erroneous. What
is lawful for one, may be lawful for all, and no society can subsist in
the conviction of a principle thus hostile to its being.
IT seems to be a maxim in human existence,
that no creature has a right to decide peremptorily on the importance,
utility, or necessity of his own being. There are an infinite variety of
secret connections and associations in the vast system of things, which
the eye of created wisdom cannot explore.
MAN is not, perhaps, so ignorant of anything,
or any creature, as of himself. His own system, after all the art and inquisition
of human ingenuity, is still to him the profoundest mystery in nature.
His knowledge and faculties are adequate to the sphere of his duty. Beyond
this, his researches are impertinent, and all his acquisitions useless.
He has no adequate notions what the laws of the universe are with respect
to any species of existence whatever. A cloud rests on the complicated
movements of this great machine, which baffles all the penetration of mortals:
and it will for ever remain impossible for man, from the most complete
analysis of his present situation, to judge, with any degree of precision,
of his own consequence, either as a citizen of the world at large, or as
a member of any particular society.
FINAL causes form a system of knowledge too
wonderful for man. It is the perrogative of nature alone to decide upon
them. In the fulness of time, her creative hand brought him into existence,
and it belongs to her alone, in consequence of an arrangement equally wonderful
and mysterious to dismiss him from his present mode of being. This is an
authority with which she alone is invested, and which, according to our
apprehensions, it is impossible fro her to delegate. Dissolution, as well
as creation, is hers. and he who would attempt to infringe her sovereignty
in this instance, would usurp a prerogative which does not belong to him,
and become a traitor to the laws of his being. Nay, on this extravagant
and licentious hypothesis, the right of assuming and relinquishing existence
is made reciprocal. For he who arrogates the liberty of destroying himself,
were he possessed of the power, might also be his own creator; his imaginary
insignificance to society being as inconclusive in the one case, as any
chimerical advantage that may accidentally strike him can be in the other.
It is a strange doctrine, which cannot be established, but at the obvious
expence of what seem the plainest dictates of common sense.
INDEED, the absurdities of this daring and
paradoxical doctrine are endless and infinite. When we come to pronounce
on the condition of human infancy, and to separate childhood, or non-age,
from a state of maturity, we can scarce trace one useful or salutary consequence
it is calculated to produce in society.
In this view children seem less adapted to serve any special or important
end, than even beetles, gnats, or flies. Experience, however, has long
convinced the world of their present inestimable value from their future
destination. And were a legislator, from the plausible pretext of their
being a burden to the state, to exterminate the race of mankind in the
insignificant stage of infancy, his decree, like that of a certain monster
recorded in the gospel, would shock the sentiments of every nation under
heaven, in whom there remained only the dregs of humanity.
IT is not only impossible for a man to decide,
in any given period, of the progress of his existence, or what utility
or consequence he may be to society; but without the faculty of prescience,
it is still more impracticable for him to divine what purposes he may be
intended to serve in the many mysterious revolations of futurity. How far
his mortal may be connected with his immortal life, must rest with him
who has the sole disposal of it. But who told him that his load of misery
was too much to bear, that he was not able to sustain it? or that his merciful
father would not proportionate his sufferings to his abilities? How does
he know how short-lived the pressure of incumbent sorrow may prove? It
becomes not him to prescribe to his maker, or because his evils are enormous,
to conclude they must be permanent. Rash man! thy heart is in the hand
of heaven, and he , may either lighten the burthen that oppresses thee,
or blunt the edge of that sensibility, from which it derives the greatest
poignancy. What medicine is to the wounds of the body, that resignation
is to those of the soul. Be not deficient in this virtue, and life will
never prescribe a duty you cannot perform, or inflict a pang which you
cannot bear. Resignation changes the grizzly aspect of affliction, turns
sickness into health, and converts the gloomy forebodings of despair into
the grateful presentiments of hope. Besides, the most insignificant instruments
are sometimes, in the hands of eternal providence, employed in bringing
about the most general and beneficent revolutions. It is by making weakness
thus subservient to power, evil to good, and pain to pleasure, that he
who governs the world illustrates his sovereinty and omnipotence. Till,
then, thou art able to comprehend the whole mysterious system of every
possible existence, till thou art certain that thy life is totally insignificant,
till thou art convinced it is not in the might of infinite power to render
thee serviceable either to thyself or others, counteract not the benignity
of providence by suicide, or, in this manner, by the blackest of all treasons,
betray thy trust, and wage, at fearful odds, hostility against the very
means and author of thy being.
ONE very obvious consequence arising from
suicide, which none of its advocates appear to have foreseen, and which
places it in a light exceedingly gross and shocking, is, that it supposes
every man capable, not only of destroying himself, but of delegating the
power of committing murder to another. That which he may do himself, he
may commission any one to do for him. On this supposition, no law, human
or divine, could impeach the shedding of innocent blood. And on what principle,
of right or expediency, admit that which produces such a train of the most
horrid and detestable consequences?
(5) THE preceding note is, perhaps, the most
audacious part in the whole of this very extraordinary performance. In
our holy religion it is expressly declared that no murderer hath eternal
life abiding in him; that murderers shall in no wise inherit the kingdom
of God, and that it is the prerogative of heaven alone to kill and make
alive. It is a fundamental doctrine in the gospel, that, except ye repent,
ye shall all likewise perish. And how are they to perform their duty, who,
in the instant of dying, contract a guilt, which renders it indispensible.
But this horrid supposition is repugnant to the whole genius of revelation,
which inculcates every virtue that can possibly administer to our present
and future welfare. It inforces obedience and resignation to the righteous
government of God. It inspires and produces those very dispositions which
it recommends. All its doctrines, exhortations, and duties, are formed
to elevate the mind, to raise the affections, to regulate the passions,
and to purge the heart of whatever is hostile to happiness in this or another
life. This impious slander on the christian faith is the obvious consequence
of the grossest inattention to its nature and tendency. It is calculated
chiefly to make us happy. And what happy man was ever yet chargeable with
suicide? In short, we may as well say, that, because the physician does
not expressly prohibit certain diseases in his prescriptions, the very
diseases are authenticated by the remedies devised, on purpose to counteract
them.
LETTERS ON SUICIDE FROM ROSSEAU'S ELOISA
YES, my Lord, I confess it; the weight of life
is too heavy for my soul. I have long endured it as a burden; I have lost
every thing which could make it dear to me, and nothing remains but irksomeness
and vexation. I am told, however, that I am not at liberty to dispose of
my life, without the permission of that Being from whom I received it.
I am sensible likewise that you have a right over it by more titles than
one. Your care has twice preserved it, and your goodness is its constant
security. I will never dispose of it, till I am certain that I may do it
without a crime, and till I have not the least hope of employing it for
your service.
You told me that I should be of use to you;
why did you deceive me? Since we have been in London, so far from thinking
of employing me in your concerns, you have been kind enough to make me
your only concern. How superfluous is your obliging solicitude! My lord,
you know I abhor a crime, even worse than I detest life; I adore the supreme
Being -- I owe every thing to you; I have an affection for you; you are
the only person on earth to whom I am attached. Friendship and duty may
chain a wretch to this earth: sophistry and vain pretences will never detain
him. Enlighten my understanding, speak to my heart; I am
ready to hear you, but remember, that despair is not to be imposed
upon.
You would have me apply to the test of reason:
I will; let us reason. You desire me to deliberate in proportion to the
importance of the question in debate; I agree to it. Let us investigate
truth with temper and moderation; let us discuss this general proposition
with the same indifference we should treat any other. Roebeck wrote an
apology for suicide before he put an end to his life. I will not, after
his example, write a book on the subject, neither am I well satisfied with
that which he has penned, but I hope in this discussion at least to imitate
his moderation.
I have for a long time meditated on this awful
subject. You must be sensible that I have, for you know my destiny, and
yet I am alive. The more I reflect, the more I am convinced that the question
may be reduced to this fundamental proposition. Every man has a right by
nature to pursue what he thinks good, and avoid what he thinks evil, in
all respects which are not injurious to others. When our life therefore
becomes a misery to ourselves, and is of advantage to no one, we are at
liberty to put an end to our being. If there is any such thing as a clear
and self-evident principle, certainly this is one, and if this be subverted,
there is scarce an action in life which may not be made criminal.
Let us hear what the philosophers say on this
subject. First, they consider life as something which is not our own, because
we hold it as a gift; but because it has been given to us, is it for that
reason our own? Has not God given these sophists two arms? nevertheless,
when they are under apprehensions of a mortification, they do not scruple
to amputate one, or both if there be occasion. By a parity of reasoning,
we may convince those who believe in the immortality of the soul; for if
I sacrifice my arm to the preservation of something more precious, which
is my body, I have the same right to sacrifice my body to the preservation
of something more valuable, which is, the happiness of my existence. If
all the gifts which heaven has bestowed are naturally designed for our
good, they are certainly too apt to change their nature; and Providence
has endowed us with reason, that we may discern the difference. If this
rule did not authorize us to chuse the one, and reject the other, to what
use would it serve among mankind?
But they turn this weak objection into a thousand
shapes. They consider a man living upon earth as a soldier placed on duty.
God, say they, has fixed you in this world, why do you quit your station
without his leave? But you, who argue thus, has he not stationed you in
the town where you was born, why therefore do you quit it without his leave?
is not misery, of itself, a sufficient permission? Whatever station Providence
has assigned me, whether it be in a regiment, or on the earth at large,
he intended me to stay there while I found my situation agreeable, and
to leave it when it became intolerable. This is the voice of nature, and
the voice of God. I agree that we must wait for an order; but when I die
a natural death, God does not order me to quit life, he takes it from me;
it is by rendering life insupportable, that he orders me to quit it. In
the first case, I resist with all my force; in the second, I have the merit
of obedience.
Can you conceive that there are some people
so absurd as to arraign suicide as a kind of rebellion against Providence,
by an attempt to fly from his laws? but we do not put an end to our being
in order to withdraw ourselves from his commands, but to execute them.
What! does the power of God extend no farther than to my body? is there
a spot in the universe, is there any beingin the universe, which is not
subject to his power, and will that power have less immediate influence
over me when my being is refined, and thereby becomes less compound, and
of nearer resemblance to the divine essence? no, his justice and goodness
are the foundation of my hopes; and if I thought that death would withdraw
me from his power, I would give up my resolution to die.
This is one of the quibbles of the Phaedo,
which, in other respects, abounds with sublime truths. If your slave destroys
himself, says Socrates to Cebes, would you not punish him, for having unjustly
deprived you of your property; prithee, good Socrates, do we not belong
to God after we are dead? The case you put is not applicable; you ought
to argue thus: if you incumber your slave with a habit which confines him
from discharging his duty properly, will you punish him for quitting it,
in order to render you better service? the grand error lies in making life
of too great importance; as if our existence depended upon it, and that
death was a total annihilation. Our life is of no consequence in the sight
of God; it is of no importance in the eyes of reason, neither ought it
to be of any in our sight; when we quit our body, we only lay aside an
inconvenient habit. Is this circumstance so painful, to be the occasion
of so much disturbance? My Lord, these declaimers are not in earnest. Their
arguments are absurd and cruel, for they aggravate the supposed crime,
as if it put a period to existence, and they punish it, as if that existence
was eternal.
With respect to Plato's Phaedo, which has
furnished them with the only specious argument that has ever been advanced,
the question is discussed there in a very light and desultory manner. Socrates
being condemned, by an unjust judgment, to lose his life in a few hours,
had no occasion to enter into an accurate enquiry whether he was at liberty
to dispose of it himself. Supposing him really to have been the author
of those discourses which Plato ascribes to him, yet believe me, my lord,
he would have meditated with more attention on the subject, had he been
in circumstances which required him to reduce his speculations to practice;
and a strong proof that no valid objection can be drawn from that immortal
work against the right of disposing of our own lives, is, that Cato read
it twice through the very night that he destroyed himself.
The same sophisters make it a question whether
life can ever be an evil? but when we consider the multitude of errors,
torments, and vices, with which it abounds, one would rather be inclined
to doubt whether it can ever be a blessing. Guilt incessantly besieges
the most virtuous of mankind. Every moment he lives he is in danger of
falling a prey to the wicked, or of being wicked himself. To struggle and
to endure, is his lot in this world; that of the dishonest man is to do
evil, and to suffer. In every other particular they differ, and only agree
in sharing the miseries of life in common. If you required authorities
and facts, I could recite you the oracles of old, the answers of the sages,
and produce instances where acts of virtue have been recompensed with death.
But let us leave these considerations, my lord; it is to you whom I address
myself, and I ask you what is the chief attention of a wise man in this
life, except, if I may be allowed the expression, to collect himself inwardly,
and endeavour, even while he lives, to be dead to every object of sense?
The only way by which wisdom directs us to avoid the miseries of human
nature, is it not to detach ourselves from all earthly objects, from every
thing that is gross in our composition, to retire within ourselves, and
to raise our thoughts to sublime contemplations? If therefore our misfortunes
are derived from our passions and errors, with what eagerness should we
wish for a state which will deliver us both from the one and the other?
What is the fate of those sons of sensuality, who indiscreetly multiply
their torments by their pleasures? they in fact destroy their existence
by extending their connections in this life; they increase the weight of
their crimes by their numerous attachments; they relish no enjoyments,
but what are succeeded by a thousand bitter wants; the more lively their
sensibility, the more acute their sufferings; the stronger they are attached
to life, the more wretched they become.
But admitting it, in general, a benefit to
mankind to crawl upon the earth with gloomy sadness, I do not mean to intimate
that the human race ought with one common consent to destroy themselves,
and make the world one immense grave. But there are miserable beings, who
are too much exalted to be governed by vulgar opinion; to them despair
and grievous torments are the passports of nature. It would be as ridiculous
to suppose that life can be a blessing to such men, as it was absurd in
the sophister Possidonius to deny that is was an evil, at the same time
that he endured all the torments of the gout. While life is agreeable to
us, we earnestly wish to prolong it, and nothing but a sense of extreme
misery can extinguish the desire of existence; for we naturally conceive
a violent dread of death, and this dread conceals the miseries of human
nature from our sight. We drag a painful and melancholy life, for a long
time before we can resolve to quit it; but when once life becomes so insupportable
as to overcome the horror of death, then existence is evidently a great
evil, and we cannot disengage ourselves from it too soon. Therefore, though
we cannot exactly ascertain the point at which it ceases to be a blessing,
yet at least we are certain in that it is an evil long before it appears
to be such, and with every sensible man the right of quitting life is,
by a great deal, precedent to the temptation.
This is not all. After they have denied that
life can be an evil, in order to bar our right of making away with ourselves;
they confess immediately afterwards that it is an evil, by reproaching
us with want of courage to support it. According to them, it is cowardice
to withdraw ourselves from pain and trouble, and there are none but dastards
who destroy themselves. O Rome, thou victrix of the world, what a race
of cowards did thy empire produce! Let Arria, Eponina, Lucretia, be of
the number; they were women. But Brutus, Cassius, and thou great and divine
Cato, who didst share with the gods the adoration of an astonished world,
thou whose sacred and august presence animated the Romans with holy zeal,
and made tyrants tremble, little did thy proud admirers imagine that paltry
rhetoricians, immured in the dusty corner of a college, would ever attempt
to prove that thou wert a coward, for having preferred death to a shameful
existence.
O the dignity and energy of your modern writers!
How sublime, how intrepid are you with your pens? but tell me, thou great
and valiant hero, who dost so courageously decline the battle, in order
to endure the pain of living somewhat longer; when spark of fire lights
upon your hand, why do you withdraw it in such haste? how? are you such
a coward that you dare not bear the scorching of fire? nothing, you say,
can oblige you to endure the burning spark; and what obliges me to endure
life? was the creation of a man of more difficulty to Providence, than
that of a straw? and is not both one and the other equally the work of
his hands?
Without doubt, it is an evidence of great
fortitude to bear with firmness the misery which we cannot shun; none but
a fool, however, will voluntarily endure evils which he can avoid without
a crime; and it is very often a great crime to suffer pain unnecessarily.
He who has not resolution to deliver himself from a miserable being by
a speedy death, is like one who would rather suffer a wound to mortify,
than trust to a surgeon's knife for his cure. Come, thou worthy -- cut
off this leg, which endangers my life. I will see it done without shrinking,
and will give that hero leave to call me coward, who suffers his leg to
mortify, because he dares not undergo the same operation.
I acknowledge that there are duties owing
to others, the nature of which will not allow every man to dispose of his
life; but, in return, how many are there which give him a right to dispose
of it? let a magistrate on whom the welfare of a nation depends, let a
father of a family who is bound to procure subsistence for his children,
let a debtor who might ruin his creditors, let these at all events discharge
their duty; admitting a thousand other civil and domestic relations to
oblige an honest and unfortunate man to support the misery of life, to
avoid the greater evil of doing injustice; is it, therefore, under circumstances
totally different, incumbent on us to preserve a life oppressed with a
swarm of miseries, when it can be of no service but to him who has not
courage to die? "Kill me, my child," says the decrepid savage to his son,
who carries him on his shoulders, and bends under his weight; the "enemy
is at hand; go to battle with thy brethren; go and preserve thy children,
and do not suffer thy helpless father to fall alive into the hands of those
whose relations he has mangled." Though hunger, sickness, and poverty,
those domestic plagues, more dreadful than savage enemies, may allow a
wretched cripple to consume, in a sick bed, the provisions of a family
which can scarce subsist itself, yet he who has no connections, whom heaven
has reduced to the necessity of living alone, whose wretched existence
can produce no good, why should not he, at least, have the right of quitting
a station, where his complaints are troublesome, and his sufferings of
no benefit?
Weigh these considerations, my lord; collect
these arguments, and you will find that they may be reduced to the most
simple of nature's rights, of which no man of sense ever yet entertained
a doubt. In fact, why should we be allowed to cure ourselves of the gout,
and not to get rid of the misery of life? do not both evils proceed from
the same hand? to what purpose is it to say, that death is painful? are
drugs agreeable to be taken? no, nature revolts against both. Let them
prove therefore that it is more justifiable to cure a transient disorder
by the application of remedies, than to free ourselves from an incurable
evil by putting an end to our life; and let them shew how it can be less
criminal to use the bark for a fever, than to take opium for the stone.
If we consider the object in view, it is in both cases to free ourselves
from painful sensations; if we regard the means, both one and the other
are equally natural; if we consider the repugnance of our nature, it operates
equally on both sides; if we attend to the will of providence, can we struggle
against any evil of which it is not the author can we deliver ourselves
from any torment which the hand of God has not inflicted? what are the
bounds which limit his power, and when resistance lawful? are we then to
make no alteration in the condition of things, because every thing is in
the state he appointed? must we do nothing in this life, for fear of infringing
his laws, or is it in our power to break them if we would? no, my lord,
the occupation of man is more great and noble. God did not give him life
that he should supinely remain in a state of constant inactivity. But he
gave him freedom to act, conscience to will, and reason to choose what
is good. He has constituted him sole judge of all his actions. He has engraved
this precept in his heart, Do whatever you conceive to be for your own
good, provided you thereby do no injury to others. If my sensations tell
me that death is eligible, I resist his orders by an obstinate resolution
to live; for, by making death desirable, he directs me to put an end to
my being.
My lord, I appeal to your wisdom and candour;
what more infallible maxims can reason deduce from religion, with respect
to suicide? If Christians have adopted contrary tenets, they are neither
drawn from the principles of religion, nor from the only sure guide, the
Scriptures, but borrowed from the Pagan philosophers. Lactantius and Augustine,
the first who propagated this new doctrine, of which Jesus Christ and his
apostles take no notice, ground their arguments entirely on the reasoning
of Phaedo, which I have already controverted; so that the believers, who,
in this respect, think they are supported by the authority of the Gospel,
are in fact only countenanced by the authority of Plato. In truth, where
do we find, throughout the whole bible any law against suicide, or so much
as a bare disapprobation of it; and is it not very unaccountable, that
among the instances produced of persons who devoted themselves to death,
we do not find the least word of improbation against examples of this kind?
nay, what is more, the instance of Samson's voluntary death is authorized
by a miracle, by which he revenges himself of his enemies. Would this miracle
have been displayed to justify a crime; and would this man, who lost his
strength by suffering himself to be seduced by the allurements of a woman,
have recovered it to commit an authorised crime, as if God himself would
practice deceit on men?
Thou shalt do no murder, says the decalogue;
what are we to infer from this? if this commandment is to be taken literally,
we must not destroy malefactors, nor our enemies: and Moses, who put so
many people to death, was a bad interpreter of his own precept. If there
are any exceptions, certainly the first must be in favour of suicide, because
it is exempt from any degree of violence and injustice, the two only circumstances
which can make homicide criminal; and because nature, moreover, has, in
this respect, thrown sufficient obstacles in the way.
But still they tell us, we must patiently
endure the evils which God inflicts, and make a merit of our sufferings.
This application however of the maxims of Christianity, is very ill calculated
to satisfy our judgment. Man is subject to a thousand troubles, his life
is a complication of evils, and he seems to have been born only to suffer.
Reason directs him to shun as many of these evils as he can avoid; and
religion, which is never in contradiction to reason, approves of his endeavours.
But how inconsiderable is the account of these evils, in comparison with
those he is obliged to endure against his will? It is with respect to these,
that a merciful God allows man to claim the merit of resistance; he receives
the tribute he has been pleased to impose, as a voluntary homage, and he
places our resignation in this life to our profit in the next. True repentance
is derived from nature; if man endures whatever he is obliged to suffer,
he does, in this respect, all that God requires of him; and if any one
is so inflated with pride, as to attempt more, he is a madman, who ought
to be confined, or an impostor, who ought to be punished. Let us, therefore,
without scruple, fly from all the evils we can avoid; there will still
be too many left for us to endure. Let us, without remorse, quit life itself
when it becomes a torment to us, since it is in our own power to do it,
and that in so doing we neither offend God nor man. If we would offer a
sacrifice to the supreme Being, is it nothing to undergo death? let us
devote to God that which he demands by the voice of reason, and into his
hands let us peaceably surrender our souls.
Such are the liberal precepts which good sense
dictates to every man, and which religion authorises. Let us apply these
precepts to ourselves. You have condescended to disclose your mind to me;
I am acquainted with your uneasiness; you do not endure less than myself;
and your troubles, like mine, are incurable; and they are the more remediless,
as the laws of honour are more immutable than those of fortune. You bear
them, I must confess, with fortitude. Virtue supports you; advance but
one step farther, and she disengages you. You intreat me to suffer; my
lord, I dare importune you to put an end to your sufferings; and I leave
you to judge which of us is most dear to the other.
Why should we delay doing that which we must
do at last? shall we wait till old age and decrepid baseness attach us
to life, after they have robbed it of its charms, and till we are doomed
to drag an infirm and decrepid body with labour, and ignominy, and pain?
We are at an age when the soul has vigour to disengage itself with ease
from its shackles, and when a man knows how to die as he ought; when farther
advanced in years, he suffers himself to be torn from life, which he quits
with reluctance. Let us take advantage of this time, when the tedium of
life makes death desirable; and let us tremble for fear it should come
in all its horrors, at the moment when we could wish to avoid it. I remember
the time, when I prayed to heaven only for a single hour of life, and when
I should have died in despair if it had not been granted. Ah! what a pain
it is to burst asunder the ties which attach our hearts to this world,
and how advisable it is to quit life the moment the connection is broken!
I am sensible, my lord, that we are both worthy of a purer mansion; virtue
points it out, and destiny invites us to seek it. May the friendship which
invites us preserve our union to the latest hour! O what a pleasure for
two sincere friends voluntary to end their days in each others arms, to
intermingle their latest breath, and at the same instant to give up the
soul which they shared in common! What pain, what regret can infect their
last moments? What do they quit by taking leave of the
world? They go together; they quit nothing.
ANSWER.
THOU art distracted, my friend, by a fatal
passion; be more discreet; do not give counsel, whilst thou standest so
much in need of advice. I have known greater evils than yours. I am armed
with fortitude of mind; I am an Englishman, and not afraid to die; but
I know how to live and suffer as becomes a man. I have seen death near
at hand, and have viewed it with too much indifference to go in search
of it.
It is true, I thought you might be of use
to me; my affection stood in need of yours: your endeavours might have
been serviceable to me; your understanding might have enlightened me in
the most important concern of my life; if I do not avail myself of it,
who are you to impute it to? Where is it? What is become of it? What are
you capable of? Of what use can you be in your present condition? What
service can I expect from you? A senseless grief renders you stupid and
unconcerned. Thou art no man; thou art nothing; and if I did not consider
what thou mightest be, I cannot conceive any thing more abject.
There is need of no other proof than your
letter itself. Formerly I could discover in you good sense and truth. Your
sentiments were just, your reflections proper, and I liked you not only
from judgment but choice; for I considered your influence as an additional
motive to excite me to the study of wisdom. But what do I perceive now
in the arguments of your letter, with which you appear to be so highly
satisfied? A wretched and perpetual sophistry, which in the erroneous deviations
of your reason shews the disorder of your mind, and which I would not stoop
to refute, if I did not commiserate your delirium.
To subvert all your reasoning with one word,
I would only ask you a single question. You who believe in the existence
of a God, in the immortality of the soul, and in the freewill of man, you
surely cannot suppose that an intelligent being is embodied, and stationed
on the earth by accident only, to exist, to suffer, and to die. It is certainly
most probable that the life of man is not without some design, some end,
some moral object. I intreat you to give me a direct answer to this point;
after which we will deliberately examine your letter, and you will blush
to have written it.
But let us wave all general maxims, about
which we often hold violent disputes, without adopting any of them in practice;
for in their applications we always find some particular circumstances
which makes such an alteration in the state of things, that every one thinks
himself dispensed from submitting to the rules which he prescribes to others;
and it is well known, that every man who establishes general principles
deems them obligatory on all the world, himself excepted. Once more let
us speak to you in particular.
You believe that you have a right to put an
end to your being. Your proof is of a very singular nature; "because I
am disposed to die, say you, I have a right to destroy myself." This is
certainly a very convenient argument for villains of all kinds: they ought
to be very thankful to you for the arms with which you have furnished them;
there can be no crimes, which, according to your arguments, may not be
justified by the temptation to perpetrate them; and as soon as the impetuosity
of passion shall prevail over the horror of guilt, their disposition to
do evil will be considered as a right to commit it.
Is it lawful for you therefore to quit life?
I should be glad to know whether you have yet begun to live? what! was
you placed here on earth to do nothing in this world? did not heaven when
it gave you existence give you some task or employment? If you have accomplished
your day's work before evening, rest yourself for the remainder of the
day; you have a right to do it; but let us see your work. What answer are
you prepared to make the supreme Judge, when he demands an account of your
time? Tell me, what can you say to him? -- I have seduced a virtuous girl:
I have forsaken a friend in distress. Thou unhappy wretch! Point out to
me that just man who can boast that he has lived long enough; let me learn
from him in what manner I ought to have spent my days to be at liberty
to quit life.
You enumerate the evils of human nature. You
are not ashamed to exhaust common-place topics, which have been hackneyed
over a hundred times; and you conclude that life is an evil. But search,
examine into the order of things, and see whether you can find any good
which is not intermingled with evil. Does it therefore follow that there
is no good in the universe, and can you confound what is in its own nature
evil, with that which is only an evil accidentally? You have confessed
yourself, that the transitory and passive life of man is of no consequence,
and only bears respect to matter from which he will soon be disencumbered;
but his active and moral life, which ought to have most influence over
his nature, consists in the exercise of free-will. Life is an evil to a
wicked man in prosperity, and a blessing to an honest man in distress:
for it is not its casual modification, but its relation to some final object
which makes it either good or bad. After all, what are these cruel torments
which force you to abandon life? do you imagine, that under your affected
impartiality in the enumeration of the evils of this life, I did not discover
that you was ashamed to speak of your own? Trust me, and do not at once
abandon every virtue. Preserve at least your wonted sincerity, and speak
thus openly to your friend; "I have lost all hope of seducing a modest
woman, I am oliged therefore to be a man of virtue; I had much rather die."
You are weary of living; and you tell me,
that life is an evil. Sooner or later you will receive consolation, and
then you will say life is a blessing. You will speak with more truth, though
not with better reason; for nothing will have altered but yourself. Begin
the alteration then from this day; and, since all the evil you lament is
in the disposition of your mind, correct your irregular appetites, and
do not set your house on fire to avoid the trouble of putting it in order.
I endure misery, say you: Is it in my power
to avoid suffering? But this is changing the state of the question: for
the subject of enquiry is, not whether you suffer, but whether your life
is an evil? Let us proceed. You are wretched, you naturally endeavour to
extricate yourself from misery. Let us see whether, for that purpose, it
is necessary to die.
Let us for a moment examine the natural tendency
of the afflictions of the mind, as in direct opposition to the evils of
the body, the two substances being of contrary nature. The latter become
worse and more inveterate the longer they continue, and at length utterly
destroy this mortal machine. The former, on
the contrary, being only external and transitory modifications of an
immortal and uncompounded essence, are insensibly effaced, and leave the
mind in its original form, which is not susceptible of alteration. Grief,
disquietude, regret, and despair, are evils of short duration, which never
take root in the mind; and experience always falsifies that bitter reflection,
which makes us imagine our misery will have no end. I will go farther;
I cannot imagine that the vices which contaminate us, are more inherent
in our nature than the troubles we endure; I not only believe that they
perish with the body which gives them birth, but I think, beyond all doubt,
that a longer life would be sufficient to reform mankind, and that many
ages of youth would teach us that nothing is preferable to virtue.
However this may be, as the greatest part
of our physical evils are incessantly encreasing, the acute pains of the
body, when they are incurable, may justify a man's destroying himself;
for all his faculties being distracted with pain, and the evil being without
remedy, he has no longer any use either of his will or of his reason; he
ceases to be a man before he is dead, and does nothing more in taking away
his life, than quit a body which incumbers him, and in which his soul is
no longer resident.
But it is otherwise with the afflictions of
the mind, which, let them be ever so acute, always carry their remedy with
them. In fact, what is it that makes any evil intolerable? Nothing but
its duration. The operations of surgery are generally much more painful
than the disorders they cure; but the pain occasioned by the latter is
lasting, that of the operation is momentary, and therefore preferable.
What occasion is there therefore for any operation to remove troubles which
die of course by their duration, the only circumstance which could render
them insupportable? Is it reasonable to apply such desperate remedies to
evils which expire of themselves? To a man who values himself on his fortitude,
and who estimates years at their real value, of two ways by which he may
extricate himself from the same troubles, which will appear preferable,
death or time? Have patience, and you will be cured. What would you desire
more?
Oh! you will say, it doubles my afflictions
to reflect that they will cease at last! This is the vain sophistry of
grief! An apophthegm void of reason, of propriety, and perhaps of sincerity.
What an absurd motive of despair is the hope of terminating misery! Even
allowing this fantastical reflection,
who would not chuse to encrease the present pain for a moment, under
the assurance of putting an end to it, as we scarify a wound in order to
heal it? and admitting any charm in grief, to make us in love with suffering,
when we release ourselves from it by putting an end to our being, do we
not at that instant
incur all that we apprehend hereafter?
Reflect thoroughly, young man; what are ten,
twenty, thirty years, in competition with immortality? Pain and pleasure
pass like a shadow; life slides away in an instant; it is nothing of itself;
its value depends on the use we make of it. The good that we have done
is all that remains, and it is that alone which marks its importance.
Therefore do not say any more that your existence
is an evil, since it depends upon yourself to make it a blessing; and if
it be an evil to have lived, this is an additional reason for prolonging
life. Do not pretend neither to say any more that you are at liberty to
die; for it is as much as to say that you have
power to alter your nature, that you have a right to revolt against
the author of your being, and to frustrate the end of your existence. But
when you add, that your death does injury to no one, do you recollect that
you make this declaration to your friend?
Your death does injury to no one? I understand
you! You think the loss I shall sustain by your death of no importance;
you deem my affliction of no consequence. I will urge to you no more the
rights of friendship, which you despise; but are there not obligations
still more dear, which ought to induce you to preserve your life? If there
be a person in the world who loved you to that degree as to be unwilling
to survive you, and whose happiness depends on yours, do you think that
you have no obligations to her? Will not the execution of your wicked design
disturb the peace of a mind, which has been with such difficulty restored
to its former innocence? Are not you afraid to add fresh torments to a
heart of such sensibility? Are not you apprehensive left your death should
be attended with a loss more fatal, which would deprive the world and virtue
itself of its brightest ornament? And if she should survive you, are not
you afraid to rouse up remorse in her bosom, which is more grievous to
support than life itself? Thou ungrateful friend! thou indelicate lover!
wilt thou always be taken up wholly with thyself? Wilt thou always think
on thy own troubles alone? Hast thou no regard for the happiness of one
who was so dear to thee? and cannot thou resolve to live for her who was
willing to die with thee?
You talk of the duties of a magistrate, and
of a father of a family: and because you are not under those circumstances,
you think yourself absolutely free. And are you then under no obligations
to society, to whom you are indebted for your preservation, your talents,
your understanding? do you owe nothing to your native country, and to those
unhappy people who may need your existence! O what an accurate calculation
you make! among the obligations you have enumerated, you have only omitted
those of a man and of a citizen. Where is the virtuous patriot, who refused
to enlist under a foreign prince, because his blood ought not to be split
but in the service of his country; and who now, in a fit of despair, is
ready to shed it against the express prohibition of the laws? The laws,
the laws, young man! did any wife man ever despise them? Socrates, though
innocent, out of regard to them refused to quit his prison. You do not
scruple to violate them by quitting life unjustly; and you ask, what injury
do I?
You endeavour to justify yourself by example.
You presume to mention the Romans: you talk of the Romans! it becomes you
indeed to cite those illustrious names. Tell me, did Brutus die a lover
in despair, and did Cato plunge the dagger in his breast for his mistress?
Thou weak and abject man! what resemblance is there between Cato and thee?
Shew me the common standard between that sublime soul and thine. Ah vain
wretch! hold thy peace: I am afraid to profane his name by a vindication
of his conduct. At that august and sacred name every friend to virtue should
bow to the ground, and honour the memory of the greatest hero in silence.
How ill you have selected your examples, and
how meanly you judge of the Romans, if you imagine that they thought themselves
at liberty to quit life so soon as it became a burden to them. Recur to
the excellent days of that republic, and seen whether you will find a single
citizen of virtue, who thus freed himself from the discharge of his duty
even after the most cruel misfortunes. When Regulus was on his return to
Carthage, did he prevent the torments which he knew were preparing for
him by destroying himself? What would not Posthumus have given, when obliged
to pass under the yoke at Caudium, had this resource been justifiable?
How much did even the senate admire that effort of courage, which enabled
the consul Varro to survive his defeat? For what reason did so many generals
voluntary surrender themselves to their enemies, they to whom ignominy
was so dreadful, and who were so little afraid of dying? It was because
they considered their blood, their life, and their latest breath, as devoted
to their country; and neither shame nor misfortune could dissuade them
from this sacred duty. But when the laws were subverted, and the state
became a prey to tyranny, the citizens resumed their natural liberty, and
the right they had over their own lives. When Rome was no more, it was
lawful for the Romans to give up their lives; they had discharged their
duties on earth, they had no longer any country to defend, they were therefore
at liberty to dispose of their lives, and to obtain that freedom for themselves
which they could not recover for their country. After having spent their
days in the service of expiring Rome, and in fighting for the defence of
its laws, they died great virtuous as they had lived, and their death was
an additional tribute to the glory of the Roman name, since none of them
beheld a fight above all others most dishonourable, that of a true citizen
stooping to an usurper.
But thou, what art thou? what hast thou done?
dost thou think to excuse thyself on account of thy obscurity? does thy
weakness exempt thee from thy duty, and because thou hast neither rank
nor distinction in thy country, art thou less subject to the laws? It becomes
you vastly to presume to talk of dying while you owe the service of your
life to your equals. Know, that a death, such as you meditate, is shameful
and surreptitious. It is a theft committed on mankind in general. Before
you quit life, return the benefits you have received from every individual.
But, say you, I have no attachments; I am useless in the world. O thou
young philosopher! art thou ignorant that thou canst not more a single
step without finding some duty to fulfil; and that every man is useful
to society, even by means of his existence alone?
Hear me, thou rash young man! thou art dear
to me. I commiserate thy errors. If the least sense of virtue still remains
in thy breast, attend, and let me teach thee to be reconciled to life.
Whenever thou art tempted to quit, say to thyself -- "Let me do at least
one good action before I die." Then go in search for one in a state of
indigence, whom thou mayest relieve; for one under misfortunes, whom thou
mayest comfort; for one under oppression, whom thou mayest defend. Introduce
to me those unhappy wretches whom my rank keeps at a distance. Do not be
afraid of misusing my purse, or my credit: make free with them; distribute
my fortune; make me rich. If this consideration restrains you to-day, it
will restrain you tomorrow; if no to morrow, it will restrain you all your
life. If it has no power to restrain you, die! you are below my care.
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