It is a great tribute to the power of true religion that in the whole history of the Bible, which covers countless centuries and includes all kinds of people in all kinds of circumstances, we have the record of just five suicides: Ahithophel, Absalom's counselor, who, when that rebel put aside his wise counsel and accepted instead the foolish counsel of Hushai, who was really the counselor of David, went to his house and hanged himself; Saul, who, sorely wounded in the battle on Gilboa, took a sword and fell on it—a half-suicide, you might call him; Saul's armor-bearer, who fell likewise upon his sword and died with him; Zimri, the assassin king, who, when retribution was gathering about him, burned his own house over his head; and wretched Judas, who went out and hanged himself. Faith in God is the great anchor. It holds us fast to life.
David Hume, the Scottish agnostic, defending suicide, once said, "If we do not hesitate to divert the waters of a great river like the Nile from its course, why should we hesitate to divert from the body of few streams of blood?" But men are held to life not by argument but by conscience and by faith. There is, on the one side, that mysterious, although undefinable, sense of the sacredness of life, and on the other hand, the reasonable and ineradicable dread of fleeing from the ills of this life "to others we know not of."
All America was shocked by the recent cases of suicide among university students. One said that he had sucked all the juice out of the orange. Another, that he had had all the thrills there are in life, and he was now going to get the thrill of death. Still another wanted to find out what was on the other side. At the door of the rationalistic, evolutionary teaching of today must be laid the blame. No young man commits suicide whose life is anchored in God; but robbed of a future hope, life is barren and worthless.—Oswald J. Smith
The Chinese Consul at San Francisco, at a recent dinner, discussed his country's customs.
"There is one custom," said a young girl, "that I can't understand—and that is the Chinese custom of committing suicide by eating gold-leaf. I can't understand how gold-leaf can kill."
"The partaker, no doubt," smiled the Consul, "succumbs from a consciousness of inward gilt."