shut the window。 But that was not thought in any sense。 It was the same
kind of association that makes animals take shelter from the rain。 From
the same instinct of aping others； I folded the clothes that came from
the laundry； and put mine away； fed the turkeys； sewed bead…eyes on my
doll's face； and did many other things of which I have the tactual
remembrance。 When I wanted anything I liked；……ice…cream； for instance；
of which I was very fond；……I had a delicious taste on my tongue （which；
by the way； I never have now）； and in my hand I felt the turning of the
freezer。 I made the sign； and my mother knew I wanted ice…cream。 I
〃thought〃 and desired in my fingers。 If I had made a man； I should
certainly have put the brain and soul in his finger…tips。 From
reminiscences like these I conclude that it is the opening of the two
faculties； freedom of will； or choice； and rationality； or the power of
thinking from one thing to another； which makes it possible to e into
being first as a child； afterwards as a man。
Since I had no power of thought； I did not pare one mental state with
another。 So I was not conscious of any change or process going on in my
brain when my teacher began to instruct me。 I merely felt keen delight
in obtaining more easily what I wanted by means of the finger motions
she taught me。 I thought only of objects； and only objects I wanted。 It
was the turning of the freezer on a larger scale。 When I learned the
meaning of 〃I〃 and 〃me〃 and found that I was something； I began to
think。 Then consciousness first existed for me。 Thus it was not the
sense of touch that brought me knowledge。 It was the awakening of my
soul that first rendered my senses their value； their cognizance of
objects； names； qualities； and properties。 Thought made me conscious of
love； joy； and all the emotions。 I was eager to know； then to
understand； afterward to reflect on what I knew and understood； and the
blind impetus； which had before driven me hither and thither at the
dictates of my sensations； vanished forever。
I cannot represent more clearly than any one else the gradual and subtle
changes from first impressions to abstract ideas。 But I know that my
physical ideas； that is； ideas derived from material objects； appear to
me first an idea similar to those of touch。 Instantly they pass into
intellectual meanings。 Afterward the meaning finds expression in what is
called 〃inner speech。〃 When I was a child； my inner speech was inner
spelling。 Although I am even now frequently caught spelling to myself on
my fingers； yet I talk to myself； too； with my lips； and it is true that
when I first learned to speak； my mind discarded the finger…symbols and
began to articulate。 However； when I try to recall what some one has
said to me； I am conscious of a hand spelling into mine。
It has often been asked what were my earliest impressions of the world
in which I found myself。 But one who thinks at all of his first
impressions knows what a riddle this is。 Our impressions grow and change
unnoticed； so that what we suppose we thought as children may be quite
different from what we actually experienced in our childhood。 I only
know that after my education began the world which came within my reach
was all alive。 I spelled to my blocks and my dogs。 I sympathized with
plants when the flowers were picked； because I thought it hurt them；
and that they grieved for their lost blossoms。 It was two years before I
could be made to believe that my dogs did not understand what I said；
and I always apologized to them when I ran into or stepped on them。
As my experiences broadened and deepened； the indeterminate； poetic
feelings of childhood began to fix themselves in definite thoughts。
Nature……the world I could touch……was folded and filled with myself。 I am
inclined to believe those philosophers who declare that we know nothing
but our own feelings and ideas。 With a little ingenious reasoning one
may see in the material world simply a mirror； an image of permanent
mental sensations。 In either sphere self…knowledge is the condition and
the limit of our consciousness。 That is why； perhaps； many people know
so little about what is beyond their short range of experience。 They
look within themselves……and find nothing！ Therefore they conclude that
there is nothing outside themselves； either。
However that may be； I came later to look for an image of my emotions
and sensations in others。 I had to learn the outward signs of inward
feelings。 The start of fear； the suppressed； controlled tensity of pain；
the beat of happy muscles in others； had to be perceived and pared
with my own experiences before I could trace them back to the intangible
soul of another。 Groping； uncertain； I at last found my identity； and
after seeing my thoughts and feelings repeated in others； I gradually
constructed my world of men and of God。 As I read and study； I find
that this is what the rest of the race has done。 Man looks within
himself and in time finds the measure and the meaning of the universe。
THE LARGER SANCTIONS
XII
THE LARGER SANCTIONS
SO； in the midst of life； eager； imperious life； the deaf…blind child；
fettered to the bare rock of circumstance； spider…like； sends out
gossamer threads of thought into the measureless void that surrounds
him。 Patiently he explores the dark； until he builds up a knowledge of
the world he lives in； and his soul meets the beauty of the world； where
the sun shines always； and the birds sing。 To the blind child the dark
is kindly。 In it he finds nothing extraordinary or terrible。 It is his
familiar world； even the groping from place to place； the halting
steps； the dependence upon others； do not seem strange to him。 He does
not know how many countless pleasures the dark shuts out from him。 Not
until he weighs his life in the scale of others' experience does he
realize what it is to live forever in the dark。 But the knowledge that
teaches him this bitterness also brings its consolation……spiritual
light； the promise of the day that shall be。
The blind child……the deaf…blind child……has inherited the mind of seeing
and hearing ancestors……a mind measured to five senses。 Therefore he must
be influenced； even if it be unknown to himself； by the light； colour；
song which have been transmitted through the language he is taught； for
the chambers of the mind are ready to receive that language。 The brain
of the race is so permeated with colour that it dyes even the speech of
the blind。 Every object I think of is stained with the hue that belongs
to it by association and memory。 The experience of the deaf…blind
person； in a world of seeing； hearing people； is like that of a sailor
on an island where the inhabitants speak a language unknown to him；
whose life is unlike that he has lived。 He is one； they are many； there
is no chance of promise。 He must learn to see with their eyes； to
hear with their ears； to think their thoughts； to follow their ideals。
If the dark； silent world which surrounds him were essentially different
from the sunlit； resonant world； it would be inprehensible to his
kind； and could never be discussed。 If his feelings and sensations were
fundamentally different from those of others； they would be
inconceivable except to those who had similar sensations and feelings。
If the mental consciousness of the deaf…blind person were absolutely
dissimilar to that of his fellows； he would have no means of imagining
what they think。 Since the mind of the sightless is essentially the same
as that of the seeing in that it admits of no lack； it must supply some
sort of equivalent for missing physical sensations。 It must perceive a
likeness between things outward and things inward； a correspondence
between the seen and the unseen。 I make use of such a correspondence in
many relations； and no matter how far I pursue it to things I cannot
see； it does not break under the test。
As a working hypothesis； correspondence is adequate to all life； through
the whole range of phenomena。 The flash of thought and its swiftness
explain the lightning flash and the sweep of a et through the
heavens。 My mental sky opens to me the vast celestial spaces； and I
proceed to fill them with the images of my spiritual stars。 I recognize
truth by the clearness and guidance that it gives my thought； and；
knowing what that clearness is； I can imagine what light is to the eye。
It is not a convention of language； but a forcible feeling of the
reality； that at times makes me start when I say； 〃Oh； I see my
mistake！〃 or 〃How dark； cheerless is his life！〃 I know these are
metaphors。 Still； I must prove with them； since there is nothing in our
language to replace them。 Deaf…blind metaphors to correspond do not
exist and are not necessary。 Because I can understand the word 〃reflect〃
figuratively； a mirror has never perplexed me。 The manner in which my
imagination perceives absent things enables me to see how glasses can
magnify things； bring them nearer； or remove them farther。
Deny me this correspondence； this internal sense； confine me to the
fragmentary； incoherent touch…world； and lo； I bee as a bat which
wanders about on the wing。 Suppose I omitted all words of seeing；
hearing； colour； light； landscape； the thousand phenomena； instruments
and beauties connected with them。 I should suffer a great diminution of
the wonder and delight in attaining knowledge； also……more dreadful
loss……my emotions would be blunted； so that I could not be touched by
things unseen。
Has anything arisen to disprove the adequacy of correspondence？ Has any
chamber of the blind man's brain been opened and found empty？ Has any
psychologist explored the mind of the sightless and been able to say；
〃There is no sensation here〃？
I tread the solid earth； I breathe the scented air。 Out of these two
experiences I form numberless associations and correspondences。 I
observe； I feel； I think； I imagine。 I associate the countless varied
impressions； experiences； concepts。 Out of these materials Fancy； the
cunning artisan of the brain； welds an image which the sceptic would
deny me； because I cannot see with my physical eyes the changeful；
lovely face of my thought…child。 He would break the mind's mirror。 This
spirit…vandal would humble my soul and force me to bite the dust of
material things。 While I champ the bit of circumstance； he scourges and
goads me with the spur of fact。 If I heeded him； the sweet…visaged earth
would vanish into nothing； and I should hold in my hand nought but an
aimless； soulless lump of dead matter。 But although the body physical is
rooted alive to the Promethean rock； the spirit…proud huntress of the
air will still pursue the shining； open highways of the universe。
Blindness has no limiting effect upon mental vision。 My intellectual
horizon is infinitely wide。 The universe it encircles is immeasurable。
Would they who bid me keep within the narrow bound of my meagre senses
demand of Herschel that he roof his stellar universe and give us back
Plato's solid firmament of glassy spheres？ Would they mand Darwin
from the grave and bid him blot out his geological time； give us back a
paltry few thousand years？ Oh； the supercilious dou