第4部分(第5/7 頁)

le　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　seems　to　recede　as　you　sail　away　from　it。　Hence　I　feel　no

incredulity　when　you　say　that　parallel　lines　appear　to　converge；　and　the

earth　and　sky　to　meet。　My　few　senses　long　ago　revealed　to　me　their

imperfections　and　deceptivity。

Not　only　are　the　senses　deceptive；　but　numerous　usages　in　our　language

indicate　that　people　who　have　five　senses　find　it　difficult　to　keep

their　functions　distinct。　I　understand　that　we　hear　views；　see　tones；

taste　music。　I　am　told　that　voices　have　colour。　Tact；　which　I　have

supposed　to　be　a　matter　of　nice　perception；　turns　out　to　be　a　matter　of

taste。　Judging　from　the　large　use　of　the　word；　taste　appears　to　be　the

most　important　of　all　the　senses。　Taste　governs　the　great　and　small

conventions　of　life。　Certainly　the　language　of　the　senses　is　full　of

contradictions；　and　my　fellows　who　have　five　doors　to　their　house　are

not　more　surely　at　home　in　themselves　than　I。　May　I　not；　then；　be

excused　if　this　account　of　my