There is a resemblance, greater or less, between the pleasure we derive
from all the evacuations. I believe that in all cases the pleasure
arises from rest—rest, that is to say, from the considerable, though in
most cases unconscious labour of retaining that which it is a relief to
us to be rid of.
In ordinary cases the effort whereby we retain those things that we would
get rid of is unperceived by the central government, being, I suppose,
departmentally made; we—as distinguished from the subordinate
personalities of which we are composed—know nothing about it, though the
subordinates in question doubtless do. But when the desirability of
removing is abnormally great, we know about the effort of retaining
perfectly well, and the gradual increase in our perception of the effort
suggests strongly that there has been effort all the time, descending to
conscious and great through unconscious and normal from unconscious and
hardly any at all. The relaxation of this effort is what causes the
sense of refreshment that follows all healthy discharges.
All our limbs and sensual organs, in fact our whole body and life, are
but an accretion round and a fostering of the spermatozoa. They are the
real “He.” A man’s eyes, ears, tongue, nose, legs and arms are but so
many organs and tools that minister to the protection, education,
increased intelligence and multiplication of the spermatozoa; so that our
whole life is in reality a series of complex efforts in respect of these,
conscious or unconscious according to their comparative commonness. They
are the central fact in our existence, the point towards which all effort
is directed. Relaxation of effort here, therefore, is the most complete
and comprehensive of all relaxations and, as such, the supreme
gratification—the most complete rest we can have, short of sleep and
death.