The Philosophy of Health; Volume 1 (of 2) / or, an exposition of the physical and mental constitution of man

by Southwood Smith

Is sensation, then, the ultimate object of organization? Simple sensation cannot be an ultimate object, because it is invariably attended with an ultimate result; for sensation is either pleasurable or painful. Every sensation terminates in a pleasure or a pain. Pleasure or pain, the last event in the series, must then be the final end.

Is the production of pain the ultimate object of organization? That cannot be, for the production of pain is the indirect, not the direct,—the extraordinary, not the ordinary, result of the actions of life. It follows that pleasure must be the ultimate object, for there is no other of which it is possible to conceive. The end of organic existence is animal existence; the end of animal existence is sentient existence; the end of sentient existence is pleasurable existence; the end of life therefore is enjoyment. Life commences with the organic processes; to the organic are superadded the animal; the animal processes terminate in sensation; sensation ends in enjoyment; it follows, that enjoyment is the final end. For this every organ is constructed; to this every action of every organ is subservient; in this every action ultimately terminates.

And without a single exception in the entire range of the sentient creation, the higher the organized structure the greater the enjoyment, mediately or immediately, to which it is subservient. From its most simple to its most complex state, every successive addition to structure, by which function is rendered more elevated and perfect, proportionally increases the exquisiteness of the pleasure to which the function ministers, and in which it terminates.

Pleasure is the result of the action of living organs, whether organic or animal; pleasure is the direct, the ordinary, and the gratuitous result of the action of both sets of organs; the pleasure resulting from the action of the organs is conducive to their complete development, and thereby to the increase of their capacity for affording enjoyment; the pleasure resulting from the action of the organs, and conducive to their development, is equally conducive to the perpetuation of their action, and consequently to the maintenance of life; it follows not only that enjoyment is the end of life, but that it is the means by which life is prolonged. Of the truth of each of these propositions, it will be interesting to contemplate the plenitude of the proof.

1. In the first place, pleasure is the result of the action of the organic organs. It has indeed been shown that the very character by which the action of these organs is distinguished is that they are unattended with consciousness. Nevertheless, by a special provision, consciousness is indirectly connected with the processes of this class, limited in extent indeed, and uniformly terminating at a certain point; but the extent and the limitation alike conducing to the pleasurableness of its nature. And this is an adjustment in the constitution of our frame which is well deserving of attention.

Organic processes are dependent on a peculiar influence derived from that portion of the nervous system distinguished by the term organic. The organic nerves, distributed to the organic organs, take their origin and have their chief seat in the cavities that contain the main instruments of the organic life, namely, the chest and abdomen (see chap. v.). As will be fully shown hereafter, these nerves encompass the great trunks of the blood-vessels that convey arterial blood to the organic organs. In all its ramifications through an organic organ, an arterial vessel is accompanied by its organic nerve; so that wherever the capillary arterial branch goes, secreting or nourishing, there goes, inseparably united with it, an organic nerve, exciting and governing.

Among the peculiarities of this portion of the nervous system, one of the most remarkable is, that it is wholly destitute of feeling. Sensibility is inseparably associated with the idea commonly formed of a nerve. But the nervous system consists of two portions, one presiding over sensation and voluntary motion, hence called the sentient and the motive portions; the other destitute of sensation, but presiding over the organic processes, hence called the organic portion. If the communication between the organic organ and the organic nerve be interrupted, the function of the organ, whatever it be, is arrested. Without its organic nerves, the stomach cannot secrete gastric juice; the consequence is, that the aliment is undigested. Without its organic nerves, the liver cannot secrete bile, the consequence is, that the nutritive part of the aliment is incapable of being separated from its excrementitious portion. The organic organ receives from its organic nerve an influence, without which it cannot perform its function; but the nerve belonging to this class neither feels nor communicates feeling, and hence it imparts no consciousness of the operation of any process dependent upon it. Yet there is not one of these processes that does not exert a most important influence over consciousness. How? By a special provision, as curious in its nature as it is important in its result.

Branches of sentient nerves are transmitted from the animal to the organic system, and from the organic to the animal; and an intimate communication is established between the two classes. The inspection of fig. XVI. will illustrate the mode in which this communication is effected. A B represents a portion of the spinal cord (one of the central masses of the sentient system), covered with its membranes. The part here represented is a front view of that portion of the spinal cord which belongs to the back, and which is technically called the dorsal portion.