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；