Chapter 10
Can the intellective principle abandon the body spontaneously
in the absence of disorganisation?
691. So far I have left suspended the question: 'Can human death occur without disorganisation in the body?' As part of our summing up, let us see whether we can draw some probable solution simply from the principles already posited. I said that the animal principle, if it has reached its greatest potency through the specific organisation of the felt (body), rises to the perception of body as ens and consequently to intuit first ens in general (in logical, if not chronological order), granted the law laid down by God in the primal institution of human nature.
It follows from this that animal feeling, as long it retains its specific perfection, cannot on its own account separate itself from the intellective soul which has arisen in it. But if it retains such perfection while the organisation remains intact, it follows that human death cannot take place without some organic lesion. In this case, does the fundamental feeling always retain its perfection while the organisation remains intact?
There is no doubt that the unity and harmony of this feeling cannot be altered unless the organisation suffers some damage. This is the extrasubjective phenomenon which corresponds to the unity and harmony.
692. Possible doubts therefore can be reduced to the following:
1. Can the intellective principle alienate itself from bodily things to such an extent that it exhausts all its power in incorporeal things, either through contemplation or through love?
I reply that it cannot do this naturally(367) because the natural object is a purely ideal being not entirely satisfying to the spirit, which the idea draws totally to itself. Moreover, a nature whose act tends to perfection cannot destroy itself. Finally, if the soul could abandon the body spontaneously without disorganising it, the individual animal feeling remaining in the abandoned body would give rise once more to an intellective soul. But because there would be no interval in time or nature between the new activity and the old, the new would simply be the old activity increased in force. This occurs in all those persons who have been enhanced and developed through the loving contemplation of eternal truths. The intellective soul, therefore, cannot separate itself spontaneously from animality.(368)
693. 2. Does the intellective principle abandon the body through disgust at seeing itself united to a corrupt body? This cannot happen naturally for the same reasons.
694. 3. Can death take place through pure spasm, without organic-specific alteration? If this were the case, would not the life instinct cease to act and to animate the body?(369) As far as I can see, there is no doubt that extreme pain can be present without any alteration to the specific organisation, and solely as a result of nervous movements that do not specifically alter the organism. In fact, complete disorganisation brings about the cessation of pain.
I doubt whether this pain would be sufficient to hold back, as it were, the activity of the life instinct to such an extent that the spontaneous act with which it stimulates the organated body would cease. It seems to me that the feeling of the continuum could never cease in every case. But if it did, an immediate, profound disorganisation of the body would follow because the life instinct itself gives to organisation its final act. Hence, although there may not be obvious signs of disorganisation in corpses, their presence should be granted. Indeed, disorganisation would have to start in this way in the structure of the elements themselves, and thus be totally imperceptible at its very beginning.
Let us suppose that pain was so great that the life instinct ceased producing any feeling of stimulation, and that the organisation remained for some moments totally intact. In this case, it would seem that a momentary suspension of life would take place because the intellective soul no longer perceives the perfect, harmonious feeling. Life would return, however, when the pain ceased. Moreover, the intellective soul which would perceive the body anew would not be different from before. Because the intellective soul is immune from place, it would be neither nearer to nor more distant from the body. Indeed it (the intuitive act) would always have remained an act of the same sentient principle whose term is the continuum of the organated body. This sentient principle would have suspended its perception, but not its intuition, by withdrawing its stimulating activity. On renewing this activity, it would restore to the soul the corporeal object, that is, the body felt by the perception of its essence.
695. None of this prevents the rational soul, with its spiritual passions of sadness, joy, desire, and so on, from exerting great pressure on the organisation. This pressure may either destroy the organisation more or less quickly, or preserve it for varied lengths of time if, as a result of other causes, it tends to become disordered. In fact, experience shows that a painful or joyful surprise can cause disorganisation and give rise to apoplexy.
696. On the other hand, I have no doubt that life is sometimes prolonged solely by domination on the part of the power and force of the intellective principle over the sensitive principle. Without this dominion, the sensitive principle would perhaps withdraw itself from the action which individuates and stimulates it. My opinion is strengthened when I read the description of the death of Jacob given in the book of Genesis. The old man, feeling his forces ebb, calls his sons to his bed and, drawing on his fading energy, speaks to them forcefully and at length. The sacred writer brings the conversation to an end with the words: 'When Jacob finished charging his sons, he drew up his feet into the bed, and breathed his last.'(370) Why didn't death surprise him before the end of his long discourse? Why, when he had finished, was death so swift? Why did he 'draw up his feet' so tranquilly and die so spontaneously?
This lengthening of life through the power of the intellective soul has been observed by several doctors, one of whom writes that the soul 'on the brink of expiring sometimes waits to instruct an heir about various dispositions, or awaits an expected friend to say goodbye and to hand over safely to his relatives his good name.'(371)
Confirmation of this will be found in animals which never give signs of certain phenomena that in human beings provide prior warning of death. Only delirious humans say they want to change residence and go elsewhere, and try to do so by getting out of bed and fleeing. Feverish sailors often throw themselves into the sea as a result of this desire to go elsewhere. All this pertains to the intellective soul which, when feeling unwell, tries to change its condition through its own activity. This effort produces in human animality an attempt to go elsewhere.(372) The merely sensitive soul never tends to change its condition: it simply relaxes its individuating act a little more. The phenomenon of which we are speaking is never found in beasts.
697. This provides confirmation that the intellective soul has a feeling of its own immortality.(373) People suffering from tuberculosis, although at the final degree of marasmus, do not foresee their imminent dissolution. They seem to want to live for a long time, and have projects for the future. This must be attributed to the vivacity with which the organ of phantasy endures in them. It is not properly speaking a feeling that gives them this hope but thought, which is happy to hide behind images, without however allowing them to be genuinely persuaded of their recovery.
Notes
(367) Supernaturally? The Scriptures say, in several places, that the vision of God, if given to a person in this life, would cause him to die. This is undoubtedly true, not because the vision of God would bring destruction to the person, but because it would be incompatible with the disordered body that results from original sin. As far I can see, therefore, the action exercised by the soul on the corruptible body would disorganise it if the soul, still dwelling in the body, were to behold the Almighty. The very act which aims at ordering and rectifying the body would disorganise it because the body in its present state is irreparable prior to its dissolution. The perfect body, however, would not be damaged but through the beatific vision attain supreme, transcendent perfection.
(368) The appropriate development of the soul has been taught from the first masters onwards. St. Bernard says: 'The soul has to develop and expand if it is to be capable of God (capax Dei). - It develops, therefore, and expands, but in a spiritual way. It develops not in substance but in virtue' (Super Cantic., Serm. 28). - John of Salisbury wrote about the development of the soul in a similar fashion: 'It develops, therefore, in reason and intellect alone, not by multiplication of parts or greater quantitative extension. It expands in its desire for good, and its distaste for evil, and remains simple in nature' (Polycr, bk. 3, c. 1).
(369) On the life instinct, see AMS, 371-384.
(370) Gen 49: 32.
(371) At this point, Nicholls adds a note in which he refers to other authors who give examples of deferred death.
(372) As long as the intellective soul is united to the animal principle, its acts although merely intellective draw in their wake some modifications of animality and some corporeal movements. Such acts are, for example, those of delirious people who want to go elsewhere.
(373) This was rightly considered an argument for the immortality of the human soul. Francis Nicholls writes, in the Praelectio we have already cited: 'Provided all other things are taken into account, the most obvious argument for the immortality of the soul is found here: the soul seems to want to leave an uncomfortable for a more comfortable place on the basis of trivial reasons as though happier pastures existed where, like a fastidious guest, it would be more at home'. Various cases are told of death deferred through acts of will, amongst them that wonderful fact narrated by Nicholas Pechlin, p. 396. There have been pious persons who did not die without receiving permission from their spiritual director. I could name one myself.