the world i live in-海伦·凯勒自传(英文版)-第5部分
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I may know that I exist； I resort to Descartes's method： 〃I think；
therefore I am。〃 Thus I am metaphysically established； and I throw upon
the doubters the burden of proving my non…existence。 When we consider
how little has been found out about the mind； is it not amazing that any
one should presume to define what one can know or cannot know？ I admit
that there are innumerable marvels in the visible universe unguessed by
me。 Likewise； O confident critic； there are a myriad sensations
perceived by me of which you do not dream。
Necessity gives to the eye a precious power of seeing； and in the same
way it gives a precious power of feeling to the whole body。 Sometimes it
seems as if the very substance of my flesh were so many eyes looking out
at will upon a world new created every day。 The silence and darkness
which are said to shut me in； open my door most hospitably to countless
sensations that distract； inform； admonish； and amuse。 With my three
trusty guides； touch； smell； and taste； I make many excursions into the
borderland of experience which is in sight of the city of Light。 Nature
acmodates itself to every man's necessity。 If the eye is maimed； so
that it does not see the beauteous face of day； the touch bees more
poignant and discriminating。 Nature proceeds through practice to
strengthen and augment the remaining senses。 For this reason the blind
often hear with greater ease and distinctness than other people。 The
sense of smell bees almost a new faculty to perate the tangle and
vagueness of things。 Thus； according to an immutable law； the senses
assist and reinforce one another。
It is not for me to say whether we see best with the hand or the eye。 I
only know that the world I see with my fingers is alive； ruddy； and
satisfying。 Touch brings the blind many sweet certainties which our more
fortunate fellows miss； because their sense of touch is uncultivated。
When they look at things； they put their hands in their pockets。 No
doubt that is one reason why their knowledge is often so vague；
inaccurate； and useless。 It is probable； too； that our knowledge of
phenomena beyond the reach of the hand is equally imperfect。 But； at all
events； we behold them through a golden mist of fantasy。
There is nothing； however； misty or uncertain about what we can touch。
Through the sense of touch I know the faces of friends； the illimitable
variety of straight and curved lines； all surfaces； the exuberance of
the soil； the delicate shapes of flowers； the noble forms of trees； and
the range of mighty winds。 Besides objects； surfaces； and atmospherical
changes； I perceive countless vibrations。 I derive much knowledge of
everyday matter from the jars and jolts which are to be felt everywhere
in the house。
Footsteps； I discover； vary tactually according to the age； the sex； and
the manners of the walker。 It is impossible to mistake a child's patter
for the tread of a grown person。 The step of the young man； strong and
free； differs from the heavy； sedate tread of the middle…aged； and from
the step of the old man； whose feet drag along the floor； or beat it
with slow； faltering accents。 On a bare floor a girl walks with a rapid；
elastic rhythm the graver step of the
elderly woman。 I have laughed over the creak of new shoes and the
clatter of a stout maid performing a jig in the kitchen。 One day； in the
dining…room of an hotel； a tactual dissonance arrested my attention。 I
sat still and listened with my feet。 I found that two waiters were
walking back and forth； but not with the same gait。 A band was playing；
and I could feel the music…waves along the floor。 One of the waiters
walked in time to the band； graceful and light； while the other
disregarded the music and rushed from table to table to the beat of some
discord in his own mind。 Their steps reminded me of a spirited war…steed
harnessed with a cart…horse。
Often footsteps reveal in some measure the character and the mood of the
walker。 I feel in them firmness and indecision； hurry and deliberation；
activity and laziness； fatigue； carelessness； timidity； anger； and
sorrow。 I am most conscious of these moods and traits in persons with
whom I am familiar。
Footsteps are frequently interrupted by certain jars and jerks； so that
I know when one kneels； kicks； shakes something； sits down； or gets up。
Thus I follow to some extent the actions of people about me and the
changes of their postures。 Just now a thick； soft patter of bare； padded
feet and a slight jolt told me that my dog had jumped on the chair to
look out of the window。 I do not； however； allow him to go
uninvestigated； for occasionally I feel the same motion； and find him；
not on the chair； but trespassing on the sofa。
When a carpenter works in the house or in the barn near by； I know by
the slanting； up…and…down； toothed vibration； and the ringing concussion
of blow upon blow； that he is sawing or hammering。 If I am near enough；
a certain vibration； travelling back and forth along a wooden surface；
brings me the information that he is using a plane。
A slight flutter on the rug tells me that a breeze has blown my papers
off the table。 A round thump is a signal that a pencil has rolled on the
floor。 If a book falls； it gives a flat thud。 A wooden rap on the
balustrade announces that dinner is ready。 Many of these vibrations are
obliterated out of doors。 On a lawn or the road； I can feel only
running； stamping； and the rumble of wheels。
By placing my hand on a person's lips and throat； I gain an idea of many
specific vibrations； and interpret them： a boy's chuckle； a man's
〃Whew！〃 of surprise； the 〃Hem！〃 of annoyance or perplexity； the moan of
pain； a scream； a whisper； a rasp； a sob； a choke； and a gasp。 The
utterances of animals； though e……the cat's
purr； its mew； its angry； jerky； scolding spit； the dog's bow…wow of
warning or of joyous wele； its yelp of despair； and its contented
snore； the cow's moo； a monkey's chatter； the snort of a horse； the
lion's roar； and the terrible snarl of the tiger。 Perhaps I ought to
add； for the benefit of the critics and doubters who may peruse this
essay； that with my own hands I have felt all these sounds。 From my
childhood to the present day I have availed myself of every opportunity
to visit zoological gardens； menageries； and the circus； and all the
animals； except the tiger； have talked into my hand。 I have touched the
tiger only in a museum； where he is as harmless as a lamb。 I have；
however； heard him talk by putting my hand on the bars of his cage。 I
have touched several lions in the flesh； and felt them roar royally；
like a cataract over rocks。
To continue； I know the _plop_ of liquid in a pitcher。 So if I spill my
milk； I have not the excuse of ignorance。 I am also familiar with the
pop of a cork； the sputter of a flame； the tick…tack of the clock； the
metallic swing of the windmill； the laboured rise and fall of the pump；
the voluminous spurt of the hose； the deceptive tap of the breeze at
door and window； and many other vibrations past puting。
There are tactual vibrations which do not belong to skin…touch。 They
perate the skin； the nerves； the bones； like pain； heat； and cold。
The beat of a drum smites me through from the chest to the
shoulder…blades。 The din of the train； the bridge； and grinding
machinery retains its 〃old…man…of…the…sea〃 grip upon me long after its
cause has been left behind。 If vibration and motion bine in my touch
for any length of time； the earth seems to run away while I stand still。
When I step off the train； the platform whirls round； and I find it
difficult to walk steadily。
Every atom of my body is a vibroscope。 But my sensations are not
infallible。 I reach out； and my fingers meet something furry； which
jumps about； gathers itself together as if to spring； and acts like an
animal。 I pause a moment for caution。 I touch it again more firmly； and
find it is a fur coat fluttering and flapping in the wind。 To me； as to
you； the earth seems motionless； and the sun appears to move； for the
rays of the afternoon withdraw more and more； as they touch my face；
until the air bees cool。 From this I understand how it is that the
shore se
