第8部分(第3/7 頁)

annihilated　when　you　turn　your　back　on　it。

I　understand　how　scarlet　can　differ　from　crimson　because　I　know　that　the

smell　of　an　orange　is　not　the　smell　of　a　grape…fruit。　I　can　also

conceive　that　colours　have　shades；　and　guess　what　shades　are。　In　smell

and　taste　there　are　varieties　not　broad　enough　to　be　fundamental；　so　I

call　them　shades。　There　are　half　a　dozen　roses　near　me。　They　all　have

the　unmistakable　rose　scent；　yet　my　nose　tells　me　that　they　are　not　the

same。　The　American　Beauty　is　distinct　from　the　Jacqueminot　and　La

France。　Odours　in　certain　grasses　fade　as　really　to　my　sense　as　certain

colours　do　to　yours　in　the　sun。　The　freshness　of　a　flower　in　my　hand　is

analogous　to　the　freshness　I　taste　in　an　apple　newly　picked。　I　make　use

of　analogies　like　these　to　enlarge　my　conceptions　of　colours。　Some

analogies　which　I　draw　between　qualities　in　surface　and　vibration；　taste

and　smell；　are　drawn　by　others　between　sight；　hearing；　and　touch。　This

fact　encourages　me　to　persevere；　to　try　and　bridge　the　gap　between　the

eye　and　the　hand。

Certainly　I　get　far　enough　to　sympathize　with　the　delight　that　my　kind

feel　in　beauty　they　see　and　harmony　they　hear。　This　bond　between

humanity　and　me　is　worth　keeping；　even　if　the　idea　on　which　I　base　it

prove　erroneous。

Sweet；　beautiful　vibrations　exist　for　my　touch；　even　though　they　travel

through　other　substances　than　air　to　reach　me。　So　I　imagine　sweet；

delightful　sounds；　and　the　artistic　arrangement　of　them　which　is　called

music；　and　I　remember　that　they　travel　through　the　air　to　the　ear；

conveying　impressions　somewhat　like　mine。　I　also　know　what　tones　are；