第9部分(第5/7 頁)

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