When early modern authors and intellectuals considered the topic of suicide, they started out with one salient contrast in mind: Whereas the ancient Greeks and Romans had often approved of suicide, Christians did not. For many, this contrast illustrated the superiority of Christian thinking, but throughout the Renaissance and into the seventeenth century, some who admired the ancients drew a more nuanced set of conclusions. Thomas More's Utopia (1516), for example, presents voluntary euthanasia for the terminally ill in a favorable light, although More condemned suicide vigorously in other works. The bishop of Guadix, Antonio de Guevara, took inspiration from the heroic suicides of classical antiquity (for example, Cato, Diogenes, Zeno, Lucretia, Seneca) and praised the nobility of barbarians who did not overvalue life in this world. Similarly, Michel de Montaigne touched on the question of suicide repeatedly and in "A Custom of the Island of Cea" considered the topic at considerable length, thoughtfully assembling moral, religious, social, and legal views. Although he admired the deaths of the noble ancients, he was reluctant to give his blanket approval to all who sought to escape shame or pain through suicide, and in the end he thought one might kill oneself only as a last resort to avoid intense pain or torture.
Shakespeare's characters commit suicide with remarkable frequency (there are fifty-two cases in his plays), and Hamlet's soliloquy ("To be or not to be") dwells on the topic, presenting arguments both for and against (although ignoring specifically Christian objections), before concluding, famously, that the future was too murky to make self-murder a safe option. In other plays Shakespeare presents suicide as the result of tragic misunderstanding (Romeo and Juliet) or as grand examples of freedom or despair (Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra, and Othello). In 1610 John Donne went further, arguing in Biathanatos that sometimes suicide was justified or at least excusable. He did not proceed, as others had, from the example of ancient worthies but specifically considered the Christian grounds for condemning suicide. In a nutshell, he concluded that suicide did not necessarily and always violate the laws of nature, reason, or God. Despite the daring independence of this view, Donne forbade the publication of his book, and it only appeared in print in 1647, sixteen years after his death. This fact illustrates the ongoing and deep anxiety early modern Christians felt about suicide as both a crime and as the result of despair, the ultimate sin. Usually Protestants and Catholics united to condemn "self-murder" and to depict the devil as the prime mover or inspiration for most cases of self-destruction. As a result, throughout early modern Europe, suicides were denied burial in hallowed ground and often suffered desecration of their corpses. The worldly goods of suicides were sometimes confiscated by the crown, as was the case in England and Scotland.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, however, this legal and moral position decayed, not so much because suicide became positively defensible but more commonly because it seemed increasingly to be the result of melancholy madness. Moralists and theologians had regularly made provision for a sort of insanity defense of suicide. They viewed both sin and crime as actions that proceeded from free and voluntary decisions; condemning actions one could not prevent or avoid did not seem to make moral sense. Indeed, Martin Luther had carried this point so far that he thought suicides were driven to their deaths by the devil, thus extinguishing human responsibility: "I have known many cases of this kind, and I have had reason to think in most of them, that the parties were killed, directly and immediately killed by the devil, in the same way that a traveler is killed by a brigand." Most theologians, however, understood the role of the devil as that of a tempter or seducer, and therefore left ample room for the harsh condemnation of suicide, as long as it seemed clear that the victim had acted deliberately, intentionally, or voluntarily.
The Secularization of Suicide
By the late seventeenth century, suicide began to seem so alien to right reason, so much the product of melancholy or delusion (what we might call acute depression), that coroners, villagers, pastors, and magistrates were prepared to grant decent (even if quiet) burials inside the churchyard. Townsmen and villagers alike might also (as in England and Scotland) unite to portray a suspicious death as the result of illness or accident in order to circumvent the crown's efforts to confiscate a victim's estate, a move that usually added to the burdens on local poor relief. Thus from about 1650 onwards, we can mark the "secularization of suicide," that is, the development of medical or other naturalizing explanations and excuses for suicide. This evolution of public sentiment was supplemented during the eighteenth century by the moral philosophizing of the Enlightenment. Montesquieu's Persian Letters (1721), for example, sharply criticized the condemnation of suicide. Voltaire went further and saw suicide as a question of liberty. It could not harm God or society, in his view, to exit the world when one could no longer enjoy life or contribute to the welfare of others. David Hume also defended an individual's absolute right to suicide. Despite hesitations and equivocations, however, many philosophes were drawn to the medical conclusion that suicide was usually the result of madness or bodily disturbances.
The Social History of Suicide
Broadly speaking, this array of opinions on suicide has been well known and well described for several generations. In recent years, scholars have renewed their attention to suicide and have made several noteworthy contributions, not so much to high religious or intellectual history, but to the sociology or social distribution and cultural understandings of suicide. In this work they have often taken inspiration from the foundational work of Émile Durkheim, Le suicide (1897), which tried to demonstrate that social dynamics account for almost all the statistical variations in suicide found in modern countries. Roughly stated, Durkheim held that higher rates of suicide were prompted by increasing conditions of social isolation, so that tight webs of social support served to protect populations from the effects of urbanization, individualism, migration, and other conditions of modernity. It seemed to make sense, from this point of view, that Protestants (as part of a "modern," "secularizing," and "individualizing" movement) should always and everywhere have higher rates of suicide than presumably more traditional and more socially cohesive Catholics. This schema has inspired a great deal of modern sociological investigation, and recently scholars have extended these efforts to the early modern period. However, one supreme difficulty has been that neither the numbers of suicides nor early modern populations were reliably recorded, making the calculation of a suicide rate (the number of suicides per 100,000 population) doubly problematic.
Suicide in Britain and Germany. After an extraordinary and energetic attempt to count the number of suicides in early modern England, for example, Terence Murphy and Michael Mac Donald abandon the task of calculating the varying suicide rate from place to place and from time to time, turning instead to an examination of the varying meanings of suicide. In an excellent study of suicide in far northern Germany, Vera Lind draws similar conclusions, heaping criticism on those who have imagined that medieval or early modern rates of self-murder could be calculated unproblematically. In a vast and complex survey, Alexander Murray draws the same conclusion with respect to medieval Europe, but then curiously hazards the guess that whatever the medieval rate may have been, suicide became far more common in the sixteenth century.
Suicide in Switzerland. The most impressive recent attempt to scrutinize all the suicides in a fairly controlled population is Jeffrey Watt's study of early modern Geneva, where suicide remained rare until the end of the seventeenth century and then increased slowly in the early eighteenth century. After 1750, however, the rate jumped up by a factor of five or more, and it went even higher after 1780. Watt has been careful to count not only those cases regarded as suicide by the Genevan authorities, but to look for "disguised" suicides as well, deaths from falls or from drowning that may well have been self-inflicted even if contemporaries declined to label them self-murder. Watt's evidence is so rich and so complete that, at least for this city, a genuine suicide rate can probably be calculated. Recognizing a dramatic escalation after 1750 seems unavoidable. Rejecting an easy equation of Calvinism with higher rates of suicide, however, Watt points out that Geneva during the Reformation had promoted just as tight an integration of society as in any Catholic city or principality. Yet by the late eighteenth century, Genevans from top to bottom had grown more secular in their attitudes, abandoning belief in the devil and often in hell as well. These processes may have developed more quickly or more profoundly for men than for women, which might explain why the disproportion of male suicides became even more pronounced after 1750. On this reading, growing secularization accomplished more than just the decriminalization or medicalization of suicide; increasingly a more secular society relaxed its supportive web as well as its sanctions against self-killing. Taking one's own life became far easier to contemplate.
This finding runs counter to the conclusion of a study of suicide in Zurich, in which Markus Schär connects the rapidly escalating numbers of self-inflicted deaths in the eighteenth century not with increasingly secular attitudes but with the growth of acute religious despair among people who doubted that they could ever gain God's mercy. Oddly enough, however, both Watt and Schär agree in emphasizing the importance of religious and cultural changes, rather than social changes (such as demography, economy, and urbanization), as crucial stimulants to suicide.
The Eighteenth Century
As far as eighteenth-century Europeans were concerned, England was the classic land of melancholy and suicide. In the absence of reliable comparative studies, it is not clear that this stereotype was fully deserved. It does seem certain, however, that suicide notes and newspaper publicity about recent suicides first proliferated in England, for reasons well explored by Murphy and Mac Donald. In Germany, the popularity of Goethe's Sorrows of Young Werther (1774) led to a wave of widely publicized suicides supposedly inspired by the romantic death of that lovelorn protagonist. By the late eighteenth century suicide had been common enough that it seemed symptomatic of the cultural and social disruptions endured by nations undergoing rapid urbanization, industrialization, or secularization.
Bibliography
Bernardini, Paolo. Literature on Suicide, 1516–1815: A Bibliographical Essay. Lewiston, N.Y., 1996.
Donne, John. Biathanatos. Edited by Ernest W. Sullivan II. Newark, Del., and London, 1984.
Jansson, Arne. From Swords to Sorrow: Homicide and Suicide in Early Modern Stockholm. Stockholm, 1998.
Lind, Vera. Selbstmord in der frühen Neuzeit: Diskurs, Lebenswelt und kultureller Wandel am Beispiel der Herzogtümer Schleswig und Holstein. Göttingen, 1999.
Minois, Georges. The History of Suicide. Translated by L. Cochrane. Baltimore, 1999.
Murphy, Terence R., and Michael Mac Donald. Sleepless Souls: Suicide in Early Modern England. Oxford, 1990.
Murray, Alexander. Suicide in the Middle Ages. 2 vols. Oxford, 1998, 2000.
Schär, Markus. Seelennöte der Untertanen: Selbstmord, Melancholie und Religion im Alten Zürich, 1500–1800. Zurich, 1985.
Watt, Jeffrey R. Choosing Death: Suicide and Calvinism in Early Modern Geneva. Kirksville, Mo., 2001.
—H. C. ERIK MIDELFORT