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ART. III.-SUICIDE; ITS MOTIVES AND

MYSTERIES.

Recherches sur les Opinions et la Législation en Matière de Mort Volantaire Pendent le Moyen Age. Par M. H. Bourquelot. Paris: 1840.

Few events ever caused so much astonishment and dismay as the suicide of John Sadleir-his extensive engagements in vast concerns, his position in society, his intelligence, influence, and reputed fortune, made such an event, of all events, the most unlooked for. The details which throw light on the dreadful catastrophe are as astounding as the act itself. The most cautious never dreamed that the apparent favorite of fortune, whose name was considered a guarantee for the success of any project, would involve establishments, undertakings, and a host of individuals, in irretrievable ruin. In almost every suicide, however abhorrent the act, there is something to elicit a touch of sympathy-" the scowl of an unpitying world," may have driven a youthful aspirant to desperation-broken vows may have bereft a trusting husband of self-control, or a sudden bereavement quite upset reason-but in Sadleir's case, we can trace no higher feeling than an inordinate thirst of gain, which stopped at nothing for its gratification. The attempt of his friends to procure a verdict of insanity, utterly failed-the intense agony of his letters, and his expressions of remorse, which were brought forward to prove it,—and which could not indeed be read without pity-are in truth an evidence of his sanity-with all the consequences of his frauds, at length staring him in the face-the ruin of so many, some among them his own personal friends-could any but a madman have expressed himself but in terms of the greatest agony and remorse-in the contemplation of his guilty career, and its guilty termination, we can well conceive that his passionate anguish for the wrongs which he had inflicted, was the only source of consolation remaining for those to whom he was dear. Dr. Prichard in his Treatise on Disorders of the Nervous System, observes that "disappointments in the pursuit of wealth, in this country, where commercial enterprises engage so many individuals in hazardous pursuits, are among the most frequent causes of insanity;" but here is a much more startling result, and the speculator may well pause over the course which, step by step, led to such a fatal conclusion and wide-spread ruin

and may well call to mind the words of holy writ, "he who maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent, for they who will be rich, fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition."

Great difference of opinion exists among high medical authorities on the question, whether the mere act of self-destruction is in itself a proof of insanity. Men of great celebrity in the profession have taken the negative side of the question, while others of equal weight take a different view. Juries are almost always on the side of the latter; the law, as it now stands, naturally gives a bias to the feelings of those who sit in judgment. Compassion for the survivors makes them catch at every incident which can be construed into insanity, and avail themselves of every doubt which can be thrown on the adequacy of the motive, to account for the act.

It is little more than three and thirty years since, when by custom strong as law, the body of the suicide was treated with marked indignity; it was not admitted into consecrated ground, but was buried at the meeting of cross roads, and a stake was run through the body. Near Boston, in Lincolnshire, a very ancient hawthorn tree is still pointed out; it is a tradition in the neighbourhood, that it sprung from the stake driven through the body of a man who had destroyed himself more than a hundred years since. The unconsecrated grave is duly strewn with the blossoms which are shed over it like pitying tears. Reasons have been assigned for the rude interment of suicides in former days; where cross roads met, a crucifix was generally erected, that the pious wayfarer from every direc tion might offer up his devotions at the holy shrine; and the dead who were excluded from consecrated ground, were laid where they might rest under the shadow of the cross. The stake was run through the body, to prevent its rising to haunt the scenes of its former troubles. A person of the name of Griffiths was the last who was buried in this way, for in the same year, 1823, the legislature interfered to put a stop to the barbarous mode of interment. A law was passed, which enacted, that "for the future it should not be lawful for every coroner having authority to hold inquests, to issue any warrant, or other process for directing the remains of persons against whom a verdict of felo de se should have been had, to be interred in any public highway, but that directions should be given for the

private interment of such persons felo de se in the Churchyard or other burial ground of the parish or places in which the remains of such persons might, by the laws or customs of England, be interred, if the verdict of felo de se had not been found against them; such interment to be made within twentyfour hours from the finding of the inquest, and to take place between the hours of nine and twelve at night." The act, however, gave no authority for the performance of the rites of burial. In the Roman Catholic Church, in the sixth century, it was ordered "that no commemoration should be made in the Eucharist for such as committed self-murder." This law continued till the Reformation, when it was admitted into the statute law of Ensland by parliamentary authority, with the confiscation of lands and goods. Suicide was denounced as a crime by the Greek and Roman philosophers, and the offending hand was buried apart from the rest of the body. The Athenian laws made the condemned criminals their own executioners, thus sentencing them to commit suicide. In the city of Marseilles, the crime of suicide was tolerated, for we find by a passage in Montaigne's Essays, that "in former times there was kept in the city of Marseilles, a poison prepared out of hemlock at the public charge, for those who had a mind to hasten their end, having first, before the six hundred which were their senate, given an account of the reasons and motives of their design, and it was not otherwise lawful than by leave from the magistrate, and upon just occasion to do violence to themselves; the same law was also in use in other places.' The first instance of suicide recorded in the Jewish history is that of Samson; the next is that of Saul, which took place 1055 years before the birth of Christ. His suicide, as we know, was very remarkable. He was a man of impetuous passions, under no self-control, and at the moment when he put an end to himself, he was distracted by the disastrous circumstances in which he found himself-the loss of his sons, and the dread of falling into the hands of his enemies made him anticipate the stroke of death, which from the mortal wounds he had received must soon have fallen upon him. The earliest account of suicide given in Roman history, occurred in the reign of Tarquin the First, when the soldiers, ordered to make common sewers, conceiving themselves disgraced, declared that they would not live, and so killed themselves; afterwards Cato and other illustrious men put an end to their own existence. In scenes

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of excitement and of seclusion we find that suicide was equally prevalent. In the romantic adventures of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, with all their pomp of jousts and tourna ments, we find scattered mournful tales of "brave knights and ladyes fair," who died for love by their own hand; and in the retirement of the monastery, that peace of mind which its remoteness from the world and its vain concerns seemed to promise, was not always found, for the number of monks who destroyed themselves is stated to have been considerable. Tædium vitæ, or weariness of life, is in most cases brought on by disappointment, sorrow, or despair, but not unfrequently from disgust of the world and an excess of its pleasures. This unhappy state of mind has never been more accurately described than by Seneca, for it was not only a common malady in his days, but it frequently ended in suicide; "full of heaviness and disgust," are his words, "languishing and discontented, dissatisfied with the past, and without hope in the future, indifferent to what they had done or what they had to do, men plunge into solitude without finding the peace of mind they seek; they try all kinds of distraction, they bustle about, they travel from place to place, they supplant one emotion by another, they go from sight to sight, from pleasure to pleasure, ever wishing to fly from themselves, and ever finding themselves tied to the same insufferable companion." He says again, "the evil which torments us, springs not from the place we live in, but abides within us; we are too weak to bear with anything, we are unable to endure pain, incapable of enjoying pleasure, impatient of everything, and tired of all. How many call out for death, when after having tried every change, they still experience the same sensations and cannot rouse a novel feeling. The world, their fortune, and life itself becomes a burden to them in the midst of their revellings, they exclaim, what! the same thing, always the same!" This exactly accords with what St. Chrysostom says on the subject; he speaks of the utter want of all interest and energy, the depression, or rather the annihilation of spirit which accompanies it; the monotony of which the wretched sufferer from tædium vitæ complains may well bring to mind the words of the preacher, "all is vanity and vexation of spirit, there is nothing new under the sun." It is well known that the action of the mind frequently disturbs the bodily functions, and that they, by reaction on the mind, occasion maladies which are known as mental diseases. The medical observer is aware that symptoms may

be aggravated or induced by the thoughts of the patient being directed to them He appreciates the power of the will, for he often calls on his patient to exert it, as the only remedy he can point out for the mysterious disorders which baffle his skill, and which he designates nervous affections. He can cite marvels which have been produced by the attention being suddenly engrossed by some exciting cause-how the lame and decrepid have been restored in a moment to the active use of their limbs till an impending danger has been averted; he can set a just value on occupation, for he knows that whatever withdraws the mind from being exclusively engaged on bodily ailments, or the troubles of life, whatever, in fact compels attention, has the most salutary effect. It has been happily ordered that the stairs of life furnish occupation for the highest and the lowest, and he who voluntarily retires from taking part in its transactions, fails in his allotted duty. It has been well observed by Bacon, that "in the theatre of man's life, God and angels only should be lookers on." A philosopher preserved his reason while in prison, where he was denied the use of books and writing implements, by working out mathematical problems on the floor of his cell with an iron skewer which he had concealed in his clothes; another declared that he could not have supported existence while in his sick chamber and enjoined perfect stillness, if he had not beguiled the time by reckoning the tiles on the opposite houses. Self-control, habitually exercised, is necessary for the regulation of the will and for the right direction of the attention; for if unchecked by it, evil passions will gain an ascendancy over the will and the power of attention, irritability will increase in intensity by unrestrained indulgence, and act upon the brain till it becomes diseased. There are even instances where the foundation of a nervous complaint was laid before the birth of its victim, from want of the exercise of self-control in the mother; by giving way to unreasonable emotions of terror and of passionate feeling, she may entail lasting suffering upon her offspring. Self-control is then necessary for the healthy condition of the brain and for the happiness of families. The means of our well-being are placed largely with ourselves; we are furnished with restraining faculties for every temptation, with a sustaining help for every trial. To the neglect of the great power of self-control may be traced many of the sad and appalling events which are of such frequent occurrence. It may be doubted whether that power is so often utterly lost, as supposed; it is sometimes found where most unlooked for. We could cite instances where lunatics,under a

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