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forgotten that with the fingers I see only a very small portion of a
surface； and that I must pass my hand continually over it before my
touch grasps the whole。 It is still more important； however； to remember
that my imagination is not tethered to certain points； locations； and
distances。 It puts all the parts together simultaneously as if it saw or
knew instead of feeling them。 Though I feel only a small part of my
horse at a time；……my horse is nervous and does not submit to manual
explorations；……yet； because I have many times felt hock； nose； hoof and
mane； I can see the steeds of Phoebus Apollo coursing the heavens。
With such a power active it is impossible that my thought should be
vague； indistinct。 It must needs be potent； definite。 This is really a
corollary of the philosophical truth that the real world exists only for
the mind。 That is to say； I can never touch the world in its entirety；
indeed； I touch less of it than the portion that others see or hear。 But
all creatures； all objects； pass into my brain entire； and occupy the
same extent there that they do in material space。 I declare that for me
branched thoughts； instead of pines； wave； sway； rustle； make musical
the ridges of mountains rising summit upon summit。 Mention a rose too
far away for me to smell it。 Straightway a scent steals into my
nostril； a form presses against my palm in all its dilating softness；
with rounded petals； slightly curled edges； curving stem； leaves
drooping。 When I would fain view the world as a whole； it rushes into
vision……man； beast； bird； reptile； fly； sky； ocean； mountains； plain；
rock； pebble。 The warmth of life； the reality of creation is over
all……the throb of human hands； glossiness of fur； lithe windings of long
bodies； poignant buzzing of insects； the ruggedness of the steeps as I
climb them； the liquid mobility and boom of waves upon the rocks。
Strange to say； try as I may； I cannot force my touch to pervade this
universe in all directions。 The moment I try； the whole vanishes； only
small objects or narrow portions of a surface； mere touch…signs； a chaos
of things scattered at random； remain。 No thrill； no delight is excited
thereby。 Restore to the artistic； prehensive internal sense its
rightful domain； and you give me joy which best proves the reality。
BEFORE THE SOUL DAWN
XI
BEFORE THE SOUL DAWN
BEFORE my teacher came to me； I did not know that I am。 I lived in a
world that was a no…world。 I cannot hope to describe adequately that
unconscious； yet conscious time of nothingness。 I did not know that I
knew aught； or that I lived or acted or desired。 I had neither will nor
intellect。 I was carried along to objects and acts by a certain blind
natural impetus。 I had a mind which caused me to feel anger；
satisfaction； desire。 These two facts led those about me to suppose
that I willed and thought。 I can remember all this； not because I knew
that it was so； but because I have tactual memory。 It enables me to
remember that I never contracted my forehead in the act of thinking。 I
never viewed anything beforehand or chose it。 I also recall tactually
the fact that never in a start of the body or a heart…beat did I feel
that I loved or cared for anything。 My inner life； then； was a blank
without past； present； or future； without hope or anticipation； without
wonder or joy or faith。
It was not night……it was not day。
。 。 。 。 。
But vacancy absorbing space；
And fixedness； without a place；
There were no stars……no earth……no time……
No check……no change……no good……no crime。
My dormant being had no idea of God or immortality； no fear of death。
I remember； also through touch； that I had a power of association。 I
felt tactual jars like the stamp of a foot； the opening of a window or
its closing； the slam of a door。 After repeatedly smelling rain and
feeling the disfort of wetness； I acted like those about me： I ran to
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 abstra