SENSES, Pleasures and Pains of. The natural agreeableness, disagreeableness, and indifference of our sensations and perceptions, present to the mind an important and extensive field of inquiry; and on this subject we shall here make a few observations. All our senses have been certainly bestowed upon us for wise and beneficent purposes; and accordingly we find, that all of them, when properly cultivated, or exercised and improved, are capable of affording us pleasure. The senses of smell and of taste seem rather intended for the preservation of our animal existence, and in this point of view are properly an object of the natural history of man; whilst the other three seem to be more peculiarly intended for our mental improvement, and accordingly form the object of intellectual and of moral philosophy. And agreeably to this we know that we derive a great deal of useful knowledge, in an easy and simple manner, concerning the objects that surround us, in the early part of life, from all the senses, particularly from sight and touch, and this too without labour or study. But this is not the only purpose for which the senses were designed.

It being thus certain that the senses were bestowed upon us partly to preserve our animal existence, and partly for our mental improvement, it seems reasonable, even a priori, to expect that nature would attach some pleasure to such use and exercise of them as are calculated to promote these ends, and pain to the contrary; particularly in those instances in which she has left the management of them subject to our own control. And accordingly we cannot but observe what delight we derive from our senses, especially in the morning of life, by which it would seem that nature intended thus winningly to invite us to the proper exercise and improvement of them, and as it were unconsciously acquire much useful knowledge. It is this species of pleasure that supports and excites boys in the constant and often immoderate exercise of their organs of voluntary motion, the powers of which are thus increased and invigorated.

The exercise and improvement of the senses being subservient to our intellectual improvement, nature has also kindly attached much refined and rational pleasure to the mental exertions; so that we are thus seduced, as it were, to the cultivation of the various extraordinary powers and faculties of the mind.

It is evident that nature has given such organs and faculties to man. as are calculated not only to make him live, but also to render life agreeable. Here too we obtain a slight glimpse at least of some of the final causes of the pleasures of sense. But if it be asked how it happens that there are such wide diversities between our sensations, some being by nature very agreeable to all men, and some as disagreeable, whilst there are others so indifferent as to give neither pleasure nor pain, we must confess that we can give no satisfactory answer, to show how so many very different sensations are produced by vnrious kinds of impressions made on certain organs of the body, and how all these different impressions excite such sensations as suggest not only corresponding perceptions and external qualities, but at the same time affect the mind with pleasure, pain, trouble, anxiety, or disgust. To be successful in these inquiries, we must presuppose some knowledge of the nature of the connection subsisting between the mind and the body, which there is reason to think is placed beyond the limits prescribed by nature to human research.

The pleasure or pain which constantly attends certain[7:20:97] sensations is not uniform in degree, but varies considerably, not only in different individuals, but even in the same persons at different times. It is not thus with the sensations themselves. These are always constant and uniform. The same kind of impression, when the organs are sound, uniformly and invariably produces similar sensations; and these are as invariably followed by the perception of their own peculiar exciting causes. For any particular impression is never known to excite in the same person a new sensation, or the perceptions of an external object different from that which it previously suggested, excepting in cases of disease. And when it does rarely occur, as in those who cannot distinguish a particular colour, smell, or taste, from certain others, we uniformly attribute it to disease or malconformation. Were we not thus to have uniformly similar sensations and perceptions of external objects from similar impressions, the senses would not be at all subservient to our intellectual improvement, since, by giving different lessons concerning the same or similar objects at different times, they would render it impossible for us to be certain of any thing, or to benefit by experience.

The effects of custom, which are at all times so considerable and evident with respect both to the mind and the body, as in the case of particular organs or faculties much improved by attention and exercise, have little or no influence at all in interrupting or modifying this uniformity in our sensations and perceptions. For no sound or properly organized person will, either naturally or by custom, ever mistake hardness for softness, or red for green, or sweet for bitter. But the influence of custom in modifying the pains and pleasures of sense is well known and considerable. For a person who can most accurately distinguish sweetness from sourness, will, at the same time, either by particular conformation, or more frequently in consequence of use and habit, prefer wormwood or tobacco to honey.

But although we may despair of ever being able to discover the physical cause of the pleasures and pains of the senses, we may, however, advance a little by observing and registering particular facts. It is accordingly of use to remark, that every species of sensation, if its nature be otherwise unchanged, is agreeable or disagreeable in proportion to its strength or intenseness. For there is no sensation, however agreeable, that will not become disagreeable, and even intolerable, if it be immoderately intense. And, on the contrary, those which by their strength and nature are very troublesome, if rendered more mild and moderate, become not only tolerable, but agreeable. Thus, with respect to the senses, it would seem that pain and pleasure are only different degrees of the same feeling; and when we consider the great varieties of which the sensation, not only of different organs, but even of any one of them, is susceptible, and that each degree of these may be accompanied with pleasure or pain, more or less, we must conclude that the pains and pleasures of sense are capable of numberless modifications both in degree and in kind.

We frequently observe, that sensations which were at first agreeable, if often repeated, lose their relish, though the nature and strength of the impressions be the same; whilst others, from being at first very disagreeable, as the taste of tobacco and opium, become very pleasing, though the nature and strength of the impressions have suffered no change. For the explanation of such facts as these we must have recourse to the effects of custom. Thus, in both these opposite cases, the sensations, from being often repeated, lose part of the strength and of the novelty of their first impressions; and, with respect to the former instance, being unable to command the attention, they become in the course of time almost wholly, or altogether neglected, whilst in the latter case, from being very offensive, they become highly agreeable. But if it be asked why habit and custom produce these effects, and in what manner, we are un able to explain it farther, than by saying, since the fact is unquestionable, that such is the nature of the human constitution. Of the effects themselves, no man can entertain a doubt; and their causes, though at present unknown, may by time and inquiry be further developed and simplified.

“The labyrinth,” says Dr Reid, “may be too intricate, and the thread too fine, to be traced through all its windings; but if we stop where we can trace it no farther, and secure the ground we have gained, there is no harm done; a quicker eye may in time trace it farther.”

These principles are capable of affording us still farther explanations. Why are new sensations always more agreeable, and variety so pleasing? Because they fix the attention more, and are not as yet blunted by frequent repetition or by habit. It is because some sensations lose their wonted effect by custom and by repetition, that we require stronger ones, or at least stronger impressions on the organs and nerves, to increase or continue our pleasures. It is also in consequence of their becoming less poignant through habit that we may neglect so many pleasures, which we hardly know to be such, till they have flown for ever; and it is because in the morning of life every thing has more novelty, and because habit has not destroyed their relish, that the pleasures of youth are much more intense than those of age. The degree of pleasure is similar to that which a blind man would feel on being made to see, or to that which a man would enjoy on suddenly acquiring a new sensitive faculty, although by long use and habit these pleasures are at present for the most part or wholly blotted away.

Although most sensations, when strong and lively enough to make themselves accurately and easily distinguished, generally please most, each in its own kind and manner; still, as there are different kinds of pleasure, different sensations may please the mind in various ways; and accordingly, it is not from the lustre of the midday sun, nor from the beautiful and lively appearance of all nature at noon, solely, that the eyes can derive pleasure, any more than grand musical sounds are the only things that please the ear. For we often contemplate with a very different and a very considerable degree of pleasure the sublime and awful scenes of nature, the twilight darkness of the shady grove, and even the gloomy horror of night itself. We listen with delight. to the tempest shaking the forest, as well as to the gentle murmurs of the passing stream. There is even a time when nothing gives so much pleasure as darkness, silence, and the absence of all sensation.

Amidst the great variety of good and evil with which we are everywhere surrounded, it is a matter of the highest importance to be able to discern aright. This we should be incapable of doing were we not endowed with agreeable as well as painful sensations. These serve to direct our choice. Whatever contributes in any degree to our preservation, and to the improvement of our organs and faculties, is accompanied with pleasure; and, on the contrary, when we are threatened with danger, a painful sensation gives us the alarm. It is to the establishment of this law that we are indebted for the duration of our lives, the improved and vigorous state of our faculties, and the enjoyment of that small portion of happiness allotted to us by nature. “God,” says a French writer, “having endowed man with various faculties, bodily as well as intellectual, in order to promote his happiness, also vouchsafes to conduct him to this noble end, not only by the deductions of reason, but also by the force of instinct and sensation, which are more powerful and efficacious principles. Thus nature, by a sensation of pain, instantaneously apprises us of what might prove hurtful to us; and, on the contrary, by an agreeable sensation, gently leads us to whatever may tend to the preservation of our existence, and to the perfect state of our faculties, these being the two points on which our happiness depends. Our faculties can neither be of use, nor dis-[7:20:98] play themselves, farther than as we exercise them. Motion or action is therefore so necessary to us, that without it we must inevitably sink into a deplorable state of insensibility and languor. On the other hand, as we arc weak and limited creatures, all excessive and violent action would impair and destroy our organs; we must therefore use only moderate motion or exercise, since by these means the use or perfection of our faculties is reconciled with our chief interest, which is self-preservation. Now it is to this happy medium, we mean to a moderate exercise of our faculties, that the Author of our nature has so wisely annexed pleasure.

The pleasures of sense are thus confined within narrow limits; for they cannot be much increased without pain, or often repeated without losing their relish, at least in a great measure; nor can they be long continued, partly for the same reason, and because they exhaust the mind, or rather the nervous system. Hence we see that our animal appetites are confined within a narrow range, as is evident from the effects of excess in eating and drinking. All our sensitive powers are impaired; whilst, on the contrary, our intellectual powers are strengthened and improved by use and exercise. And in proportion as we indulge our sensitive powers, our desires of indulgence increase, whilst the pleasures which are the objects of these desires become regularly less poignant. These, indeed, are wise regulations of nature; for it would seem as if she intended to whisper gently to us in this way, by means of practical experience, that we are not born solely for the enjoyment of pleasure, at least not for that of the pleasures of the senses; for all of them, as we have already remarked, if much indulged, lead to listlessness and disgust, and sometimes to considerable pain. And indeed, just as pleasure passes thus readily into trouble and pain, so does the sudden cessation of pain, at least when this has been considerable, produce often extraordinary pleasure; so that we may here apply the beautiful allegory of Socrates, “that although pleasure and pain arc contrary in their nature, and have their faces turned different ways, yet that Jupiter has tied them so together, that he who lays hold of the one draws the other along with it.”

We have just said, that the sudden cessation of pain, at least when this has been considerable, produces often extraordinary pleasure. But this opinion seems to be denied by the author of an inquiry concerning taste. “Among the pleasures of sense,” says Mr Knight, “more particularly among those belonging to touch, there is a certain class, which, though arising from negative causes, are nevertheless real and positive pleasures; as when we gradually sink from any violent or excessive degree of action or irritation into a state of tranquillity and repose. I say gradually, for if the transition be sudden and abrupt, it will not be pleasant; the pleasure arising from the inverted action of the nerves, and not from the utter cessation of action. From this inverted action arises the gratification which we receive from a cool breeze when the body has been excessively heated; or from the rocking of a cradle, or the gentle motion of a boat, or easy carriage, after having been fatigued with violent exercise. Such, too, is that which twilight, or the gloomy shade of a thicket, affords to the eye after it has been dazzled by the blaze of the mid-day sun; and such, likewise, is that which the ear receives from the gradual diminution of loudness of tone in music.” That pleasure follows a gradual cessation of any violent action or irritation, we mean not to deny; but we are at a loss to comprehend how it follows that the transition from strong pain, if it be sudden and abrupt, will not be pleasant.

But although the pleasures of sense be thus limited, these limits are very different with respect to the different senses. Some of them are soon exhausted, and do not any longer distinguish well the objects that correspond to them; nor are they pleased with those objects which were at first very agreeable, and which they distinguish with sufficient accuracy; whilst others continue to perform their functions longer, and to enjoy a more continued pleasure. Thus the senses of smell and of taste are almost immediately satiated, the sense of hearing more slowly; but the sight is in this respect the last of all to be fatigued or satiated; whilst the pleasures that arise from the exercise of our mental faculties are by far the most durable of all. “Exercise of the mind is as necessary as that of the body to preserve our existence. The senses of other animals, being more quick than ours, are sufficient to direct them to follow what is agreeable to their nature, or to shun whatever is contrary thereto. But we are endowed with reason in order to supply the deficiency of our senses; and pleasure presents herself as an incitement to exercise, in order to keep the mind from a state of hurtful inactivity. Pleasure is not only the parent of sports and amusements, but also of arts and sciences; and as the whole universe is, as it were, forced by our industry to pay tribute to our wants and desires, we cannot but acknowledge our obligation to that law of nature which has annexed a degree of pleasure to whatever exercises without fatiguing the mind. The pleasure accompanying it is sometimes so great that it transports the very soul, so that she seems as it were disengaged from the body. We know what is recorded in history concerning Archimedes,^[1. When Syracuse was taken by the Romane under Marcellus, Archimedes was in bis study, so intent upon some geometrical problems, that he neither heard the clamour of the Romans, nor perceived that the city was taken. In this transport of study and contemplation, a soldier came on him with his drawn sword; Archimedes, on seeing him, besought him to hold his hand till he had finished the problem he was about. But the soldier, deaf to his entreaty, ran him through the body, although Marcellus, upon entering the city, had given orders that Archimedes should be spared. ] and several other geometricians, both ancient and modem. If we doubt the truth of such facts, we must at least acknowledge their probability, since we meet every day with a number of similar examples. When we see a chess-player so deeply immersed in thought as to be in a manner lost to his outward senses, should we not imagine him to be wholly engrossed with the care of his own private affairs, or of the public weal? But the object of all this profound meditation is the pleasure of exercising the mind by the movement of a piece of ivory. From this exercise of the mind also arises the pleasure we sometimes take in refined and delicate sentiments, which, after the manner of Virgil’s shepherdess (Et fugit ad salices, sed se cupit ante videri), are sometimes artfully concealed, but so as to afford us the pleasure of discovering them.”^[2. Théorie det Sentiments Agréable.. ]

From some of the foregoing remarks we likewise see that nature points out to us the superiority and excellence of our mental faculties, thus suggesting to us that we ought to cultivate them most, as being our better and nobler part, to the cultivation of which that of our sensitive faculties should be merely subservient. But although our pleasures are thus by nature rendered in a great degree independent of ourselves, still we have it in our power to make them all more durable, by varying and mixing them with one another, or by interposing between those that are very agreeable others that are less pleasing, so as that no individual pleasure shall be in excess.

Besides the circumstances already noticed, there are others of a very different kind, which have also considerable influence on the pleasures of the senses; such as different conditions of the whole body, particularly of the nerves, or of certain organs or functions, to which functions some organs of sense, and perhaps even the sensation[7:20:99] of these, are in a great measure subservient. This is one of the causes why many pleasures, which we cultivate with all our might, cannot be immortal. If a person be thirsty, spring-water is nectar to him; if hungry, any kind of food is agreeable, even the smell of food is grateful. To a man in a heat, or in a fever, cold is pleasing; and to one in a cold fit nothing is so agreeable as heat. To these same persons, at other times, so far are these things from being agreeable, that they are often disgusting. The most decided glutton cannot always relish a sumptuous feast.

Besides the sensations excited by external objects, there are others also which cause pain and pleasure. If the action of the muscles be strong, easy, and cheerful, and not continued so as to fatigue us, it causes pleasure. On the contrary, when this action is attended with a sense of listlessness, lassitude, difficulty, and debility, it more or less causes pain. In fine, various states and affections of the mind, such as the exercise of memory, imagination, and judgment, nearly for similar reasons, are sometimes painful, at other times agreeable. “Animi affectus, qui modici grate excitant, vehementes, aut graves et diuturni, hujus pariter ac corporis vires frangunt; hominem interdum statim extinguunt, saepius longa valetudine macerant. Somni etiam, quo ad exhaustas vires reficiendas egemus, excessus, vel defectus, et animo et corpori nocet.” “Desidia, sive animi sive corporis, utriusque vires languescunt: nimia exercitatione haud minus laeduntur. Statuit enim provida rerum parens, ut singularum partium, et universi corporis animique vires usu roborentur et acuantur; et huic iterum certos fines posuit: ita ut neque quem voluit natura usus impune omittatur, neque ultra modum intendatur.” (conspectus Medicintae.) “Of such sensations and feelings as are agreeable or disagreeable, we may remark,” says Dr Reid, “that they differ much, not only in degree, but in kind and in dignity. Some belong to the animal part of our nature, and are common to us with the brutes; others belong to the rational and moral part. The first are more properly called sensations, the last feelings. The French word sentiment is common to both.”

“The Author of nature, in the distribution of agreeable and painful feelings, hath wisely and benevolently consulted the good of the human species; and hath even shown us, by the same means, what tenor of conduct we ought to hold. For, first, the painful sensations of the animal kind are admonitions to avoid what would hurt us; and the agreeable sensations of this kind invite us to those actions that are necessary to the preservation of the individual, or of the kind. Secondly, by the same means nature invites us to moderate bodily exercise, and admonishes us to avoid idleness and inactivity on the one hand, and excessive labour and fatigue upon the other. Thirdly, the moderate exercise of all our rational powers gives us pleasure. Fourthly, every species of beauty is beheld with pleasure, and every species of deformity with disgust; and we shall find all that we denominate beautiful to be something estimable or useful in itself, or a sign of something that is estimable or useful. Fifthly, the benevolent affections are all accompanied with an . agreeable feeling, the malevolent with the contrary. And, sixthly, the highest, the noblest, and most durable pleasure is that of doing well and acting the part that becomes us; and the most bitter and painful sentiment is the anguish and remorse of a guilty conscience.” These observations with regard to the economy of nature in the distribution of our painful and agreeable sensations and feelings are so well illustrated by the elegant and judicious author of Théorie des Sentiments Agréables, that we deem it unnecessary to make any further remarks on this subject. A little reflection may satisfy us that the number and variety of our sensations and feelings are prodigious. For, to omit all those which accompany our appetites, passions, and affections, our moral sentiments and sentiments of taste, even our external senses, furnish a variety of sensations differing in kind, and almost in every kind an endless variety of degrees. Every variety we discern with regard to taste, smell, sound, colour, heat, and cold, and in the tangible qualities of bodies, is indicated by a sensation corresponding to it.

The most general and the most important division of our sensations and feelings is into the agreeable, the disagreeable, and the indifferent. Every thing we call pleasure, happiness, or enjoyment, on the one hand, and, on the other, every thing we call misery, pain, or uneasiness, is sensation or feeling. For no man can for the present be more happy, or more miserable, than he feels himself to be. He cannot be deceived with regard to the enjoyment or suffering of the present moment.

But, besides the sensations that are agreeable or disagreeable, there is still a greater number that are indifferent. To these we give so little attention that they have no name, and are immediately forgotten, as if they had never been; it even requires attention to the operations of our minds to be convinced of their existence. For this end we may observe, that to a good ear every human voice is distinguishable from all others. Some voices are pleasant, and some disagreeable; but the far greater part cannot be said to be the one or the other. The same thing may be said of other sounds, and no less of tastes, smells, and colours; and if we consider that our senses are in continual exercise while we are awake, that some sensation attends every object they present to us, and that familiar objects seldom raise any emotion pleasant or painful, we shall see reason, besides the agreeable and disagreeable, to admit a third class of sensations, that may be called indifferent. But these sensations that are indifferent are far from being useless. They serve as signs to distinguish things that differ; and the information we have concerning things external comes by these means. Thus, if a man had not a musical ear so as to receive pleasure from the harmony or melody of sounds, he would still find the sense of hearing of great utility. Though sounds gave him neither pleasure nor pain of themselves, they would give him much useful information; and the same may be said of the sensations which we have by all the other senses.