I have often been asked, "Do not people bore you?" I do not understand quite what that means. I suppose the calls of the stupid and curious, especially of newspaper reporters, are always inopportune. I also dislike people who try to talk down to my understanding. They are like people who when walking with you try to shorten their steps to suit yours; the hypocrisy7 in both cases is equally exasperating8.
The hands of those I meet are dumbly eloquent9 to me. The touch of some hands is an impertinence. I have met people so empty of joy, that when I clasped their frosty finger tips, it seemed as if I were shaking hands with a northeast storm. Others there are whose hands have sunbeams in them, so that their grasp warms my heart. It may be only the clinging touch of a child's hand; but there is as much potential sunshine in it for me as there is in a loving glance for others. A hearty10 handshake or a friendly letter gives me genuine pleasure.
I have many far-off friends whom I have never seen. Indeed they are so many that I have often been unable to reply to their letters; but I wish to say here that I am always grateful for their kind words, however insufficiently11 I acknowledge them.
I count it one of the sweetest privileges of my life to have known and conversed12 with many men of genius. Only those who knew Bishop13 Brooks14 can appreciate the joy his friendship was to those who possessed15 it. As a child I loved to sit on his knee and clasp his great hand with one of mine, while Miss Sullivan spelled into the other his beautiful words about God and the spiritual world. I heard him with a child's wonder and delight. My spirit could not reach up to his, but he gave me a real sense of joy in life, and I never left him without carrying away a fine thought that grew in beauty and depth of meaning as I grew. Once, when I was puzzled to know why there were so many religions, he said: "There is one universal religion, Helen--the religion of love. Love your Heavenly Father with your whole heart and soul, love every child of God as much as ever you can, and remember that the possibilities of good are greater than the possibilities of evil; and you have the key to Heaven." And his life was a happy illustration of this great truth. In his noble soul love and widest knowledge were blended with faith that had become insight. He saw
God in all that liberates16 and lifts, In all that humbles17, sweetens and consoles.
Bishop Brooks taught me no special creed18 or dogma; but he impressed upon my mind two great ideas--the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood19 of man, and made me feel that these truths underlie20 all creeds21 and forms of worship. God is love, God is our Father, we are His children; therefore the darkest clouds will break and though right be worsted, wrong shall not triumph.
I am too happy in this world to think much about the future, except to remember that I have cherished friends awaiting me there in God's beautiful Somewhere. In spite of the lapse22 of years, they seem so close to me that I should not think it strange if at any moment they should clasp my hand and speak words of endearment23 as they used to before they went away.
Since Bishop Brooks died I have read the Bible through; also some philosophical24 works on religion, among them Swedenborg's "Heaven and Hell" and Drummond's "Ascent25 of Man," and I have found no creed or system more soul-satisfying than Bishop Brooks's creed of love. I knew Mr. Henry Drummond, and the memory of his strong, warm hand-clasp is like a benediction26. He was the most sympathetic of companions. He knew so much and was so genial27 that it was impossible to feel dull in his presence.
I remember well the first time I saw Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes. He had invited Miss Sullivan and me to call on him one Sunday afternoon. It was early in the spring, just after I had learned to speak. We were shown at once to his library where we found him seated in a big armchair by an open fire which glowed and crackled on the hearth28, thinking, he said, of other days.
"And listening to the murmur29 of the River Charles," I suggested.
"Yes," he replied, "the Charles has many dear associations for me." There was an odour of print and leather in the room which told me that it was full of books, and I stretched out my hand instinctively30 to find them. My fingers lighted upon a beautiful volume of Tennyson's poems, and when Miss Sullivan told me what it was I began to recite:
Break, break, break On thy cold gray stones, O sea!
But I stopped suddenly. I felt tears on my hand. I had made my beloved poet weep, and I was greatly distressed31. He made me sit in his armchair, while he brought different interesting things for me to examine, and at his request I recited "The Chambered Nautilus," which was then my favorite poem. After that I saw Dr. Holmes many times and learned to love the man as well as the poet.
One beautiful summer day, not long after my meeting with Dr. Holmes, Miss Sullivan and I visited Whittier in his quiet home on the Merrimac. His gentle courtesy and quaint32 speech won my heart. He had a book of his poems in raised print from which I read "In School Days." He was delighted that I could pronounce the words so well, and said that he had no difficulty in understanding me. Then I asked many questions about the poem, and read his answers by placing my fingers on his lips. He said he was the little boy in the poem, and that the girl's name was Sally, and more which I have forgotten. I also recited "Laus Deo," and as I spoke4 the concluding verses, he placed in my hands a statue of a slave from whose crouching33 figure the fetters34 were falling, even as they fell from Peter's limbs when the angel led him forth35 out of prison. Afterward36 we went into his study, and he wrote his autograph for my teacher ["With great admiration37 of thy noble work in releasing from bondage38 the mind of thy dear pupil, I am truly thy friend. john J. Whittier."] and expressed his admiration of her work, saying to me, "She is thy spiritual liberator39." Then he led me to the gate and kissed me tenderly on my forehead. I promised to visit him again the following summer, but he died before the promise was fulfilled.
Dr. Edward Everett Hale is one of my very oldest friends. I have known him since I was eight, and my love for him has increased with my years. His wise, tender sympathy has been the support of Miss Sullivan and me in times of trial and sorrow, and his strong hand has helped us over many rough places; and what he has done for us he has done for thousands of those who have difficult tasks to accomplish. He has filled the old skins of dogma with the new wine of love, and shown men what it is to believe, live and be free. What he has taught we have seen beautifully expressed in his own life--love of country, kindness to the least of his brethren, and a sincere desire to live upward and onward40. He has been a prophet and an inspirer of men, and a mighty41 doer of the Word, the friend of all his race--God bless him!
I have already written of my first meeting with Dr. Alexander Graham Bell. Since then I have spent many happy days with him at Washington and at his beautiful home in the heart of Cape2 Breton Island, near Baddeck, the village made famous by Charles Dudley Warner's book. Here in Dr. Bell's laboratory, or in the fields on the shore of the great Bras d'Or, I have spent many delightful42 hours listening to what he had to tell me about his experiments, and helping43 him fly kites by means of which he expects to discover the laws that shall govern the future air-ship. Dr. Bell is proficient44 in many fields of science, and has the art of making every subject he touches interesting, even the most abstruse45 theories. He makes you feel that if you only had a little more time, you, too, might be an inventor. He has a humorous and poetic46 side, too. His dominating passion is his love for children. He is never quite so happy as when he has a little deaf child in his arms. His labours in behalf of the deaf will live on and bless generations of children yet to come; and we love him alike for what he himself has achieved and for what he has evoked47 from others.
During the two years I spent in New York I had many opportunities to talk with distinguished48 people whose names I had often heard, but whom I had never expected to meet. Most of them I met first in the house of my good friend, Mr. Laurence Hutton. It was a great privilege to visit him and dear Mrs. Hutton in their lovely home, and see their library and read the beautiful sentiments and bright thoughts gifted friends had written for them. It has been truly said that Mr. Hutton has the faculty49 of bringing out in every one the best thoughts and kindest sentiments. One does not need to read "A Boy I Knew" to understand him--the most generous, sweet-natured boy I ever knew, a good friend in all sorts of weather, who traces the footprints of love in the life of dogs as well as in that of his fellowmen.
Mrs. Hutton is a true and tried friend. Much that I hold sweetest, much that I hold most precious, I owe to her. She has oftenest advised and helped me in my progress through college. When I find my work particularly difficult and discouraging, she writes me letters that make me feel glad and brave; for she is one of those from whom we learn that one painful duty fulfilled makes the next plainer and easier.
Mr. Hutton introduced me to many of his literary friends, greatest of whom are Mr. William Dean Howells and Mark Twain. I also met Mr. Richard Watson Gilder50 and Mr. Edmund Clarence Stedman. I also knew Mr. Charles Dudley Warner, the most delightful of story-tellers and the most beloved friend, whose sympathy was so broad that it may be truly said of him, he loved all living things and his neighbour as himself. Once Mr. Warner brought to see me the dear poet of the woodlands--Mr. John Burroughs. They were all gentle and sympathetic and I felt the charm of their manner as much as I had felt the brilliancy of their essays and poems. I could not keep pace with all these literary folk as they glanced from subject to subject and entered into deep dispute, or made conversation sparkle with epigrams and happy witticisms51. I was like little Ascanius, who followed with unequal steps the heroic strides of Aeneas on his march toward mighty destinies. But they spoke many gracious words to me. Mr. Gilder told me about his moonlight journeys across the vast desert to the Pyramids, and in a letter he wrote me he made his mark under his signature deep in the paper so that I could feel it. This reminds me that Dr. Hale used to give a personal touch to his letters to me by pricking52 his signature in braille. I read from Mark Twain's lips one or two of his good stories. He has his own way of thinking, saying and doing everything. I feel the twinkle of his eye in his handshake. Even while he utters his cynical53 wisdom in an indescribably droll54 voice, he makes you feel that his heart is a tender Iliad of human sympathy.
There are a host of other interesting people I met in New York: Mrs. Mary Mapes Dodge55, the beloved editor of St. Nicholas, and Mrs. Riggs (Kate Douglas Wiggin), the sweet author of "Patsy." I received from them gifts that have the gentle concurrence56 of the heart, books containing their own thoughts, soul-illumined letters, and photographs that I love to have described again and again. But there is not space to mention all my friends, and indeed there are things about them hidden behind the wings of cherubim, things too sacred to set forth in cold print. It is with hesitancy that I have spoken even of Mrs. Laurence Hutton.
I shall mention only two other friends. One is Mrs. William Thaw57, of Pittsburgh, whom I have often visited in her home, Lyndhurst. She is always doing something to make some one happy, and her generosity58 and wise counsel have never failed my teacher and me in all the years we have known her.
To the other friend I am also deeply indebted. He is well known for the powerful hand with which he guides vast enterprises, and his wonderful abilities have gained for him the respect of all. Kind to every one, he goes about doing good, silent and unseen. Again I touch upon the circle of honoured names I must not mention; but I would fain acknowledge his generosity and affectionate interest which make it possible for me to go to college.
Thus it is that my friends have made the story of my life. In a thousand ways they have turned my limitations into beautiful privileges, and enabled me to walk serene59 and happy in the shadow cast by my deprivation60.
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1
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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irritations
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| n.激怒( irritation的名词复数 )；恼怒；生气；令人恼火的事 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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insufficiently
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| adv.不够地，不能胜任地 | |
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conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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liberates
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| 解放，释放( liberate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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17
humbles
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| v.使谦恭( humble的第三人称单数 )；轻松打败（尤指强大的对手）；低声下气 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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underlie
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| v.位于...之下，成为...的基础 | |
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creeds
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| （尤指宗教）信条，教条( creed的名词复数 ) | |
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22
lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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23
endearment
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| n.表示亲爱的行为 | |
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philosophical
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| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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29
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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30
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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32
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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fetters
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| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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liberator
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| 解放者 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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41
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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42
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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43
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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44
proficient
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| adj.熟练的，精通的；n.能手，专家 | |
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45
abstruse
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| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
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46
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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47
evoked
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| [医]诱发的 | |
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48
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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49
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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50
gilder
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| 镀金工人 | |
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51
witticisms
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| n.妙语，俏皮话( witticism的名词复数 ) | |
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52
pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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53
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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54
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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55
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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56
concurrence
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| n.同意；并发 | |
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57
thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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58
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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59
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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60
deprivation
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| n.匮乏；丧失；夺去，贫困 | |
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