234. In proportion as beings rise in the scale of perfection, this isolation ceases; active properties are combined with the passive; such we conceive to be the corporeal agents, which, although they do not reach the category of living beings, take an active part in the production of phenomena in the laboratory of nature. In these beings we find besides what they are, what they can do; their relations with other beings are many and varied; their existence is not confined to the circle of their own existence; but it expands and is communicated in some way to others.
235. In organized beings we find a more expansive nature. Their life is a continual expansion. The living being extends in a measure beyond the limits of its own existence; for it bears within it the germs of its reproduction. Its existence is not for itself alone, but for others also. It is only an imperceptible link in the great chain of nature; but the vibrations of this link are felt in the remotest confines of the universe.
236. Life is still more extended when it becomes sensation. The sensitive being contains in himself, as it were, the universe. By the consciousness of its affections, it places itself in new relations with all that acts upon it. Perception is immanent, that is to say, it remains in the subject, but with the subjective is combined the objective, by which the universe is reflected on a point. Being does not then exist in itself alone, it becomes in some manner other things. There is a profound truth in the expression of the scholastics: "That which knows is the thing known." There is a certain order in sensations; they are more perfect in proportion as they are less subjective; the most noble are those which place us in communication with objects considered in themselves,—those which are not limited to the experience of what the objects cause in us, but include the knowledge of what the objects are.
237. Extension is the basis of the objectiveness of sensations, but it is not the direct and immediate object of sensation. Although extension teaches us something of the reality of beings as regards a certain arrangement of them among themselves, it is not so much the object of a sensitive faculty as of intelligence. Here sensation ceases and science commences. Science is not satisfied with what the objects appear. It penetrates to the reality; the understanding does not stop with the subjective, but passes to the objective, and when it cannot reach the reality, it wanders in the regions of possibility.
238. Thus we see that the perfection of beings is in proportion to their expansion. Accordingly as they are more perfect, they go farther out of their own sphere, and exercise a more extended activity. Hence the highest degree of perception is the least subjective; the lowest is sensation, which is limited to the experience of the sentient subject. Intelligence which is the highest degree, abstracts experience, and gives its whole attention to reality, its proper object.
239. If we could know the intimate nature of pure spirits, perhaps we should find that the sensitive faculties are altogether incompatible with the elevation of their intelligence, and that the analogy founded on the nature of our perceptions has no value when applied to a more perfect order of intelligence. However this may be, we must admit that the question would have been solved in a very incomplete way, if we had limited it to the single aspect of simplicity. These observations on the nature of intelligence ought to make us very cautious in affirming to be possible, what we should perhaps see to be impossible, if our knowledge of the nature of things were greater.
240. So far we have spoken only of the intrinsical possibility; what shall we say of the reality? This is a question of fact which can only be solved on data which our experience is unable to furnish, as we are not in immediate communication either with souls separated from bodies, or with pure spirits.
241. If we wish to look for an argument to prove that pure spirits and souls after they are separated from bodies, have no sensitive faculties, we shall find it in the consideration of the end to which these faculties are destined, better than by attempting to discover the essence of things. The body, to which the soul is united in this life, is an organization subject to the general laws of the corporeal universe. In order that the soul may rightly exercise its functions, it must be in constant communication with its own body and the bodies around it; it must have sensible intuition of the relations of bodies; it must be notified by pain of any disorder which occurs in its body, and guided by the sentiment of pleasure as by an instinct which, directed and moderated by reason, may point out to it what is profitable or necessary. When the soul is no longer united to the body, there is no reason why it should have these affections, as it does not require to be directed in its acts. As this applies equally to pure spirits, we may form a conjecture as to the cause of the difference which there must be between the state of our soul in this life, and that of spiritual beings which are not united to bodies.
This argument, deduced from the final cause, is not to be considered as a proof; at best it is only a conjecture: for we do not know how far the soul in its separate existence, or pure spirits, may be in relation with bodies; and consequently, we do not know whether these sensible affections would be useful or necessary for ends of which we have no conception. And even supposing that neither the soul nor pure spirits have any relations with bodies, we are far from sure that sensible affections would be useless to them. On the contrary, so far as we can form an opinion on the subject, it seems that to take from the soul its imagination and sensation, would be to deprive it of two of its most beautiful faculties; for they not only assist the understanding, but are often a strong motive of its acts.
242. It is difficult for us to form an idea of pleasure or pain, without sensible affections. In the purely intellectual will, we conceive only willing and not willing, acts of a most simple relation, which do not have for us the same meaning as a pleasant or unpleasant affection. We often wish a thing in which we experience pain; and as often find pleasure in what we do not wish. Therefore to wish and not to wish do not imply pleasure and displeasure, but are independent of these affections and may exist in opposition to them.