The soul of a suicide is not ready to leave the body, it is like an unripe fruit, and does not fall readily from the material tree, which is nourishing it.
A great shock has cast it forth, but it still remains attached until the sustaining link should wither away.
When the spirit awakes to consciousness, it is to all the horrors of finding itself a prisoner in its coffin in the grave.
It has destroyed its material body, but it cannot free its spirit until the decaying of that body should liberate the soul.
Those loathsome particles of that corrupting body still clothe the spirit―the link between them is not severed.
The horror of such a fate!
Can anyone hear of it, and not shudder to think what the bitter weariness and discontent of life, and a reckless desire to be free of it at any cost may plunge the soul into.
If those on earth would be truly merciful to the suicide, they would cremate his body, not bury it, that the soul may by the speedy dispersal of the particles be the sooner freed from such a prison.
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