"I had the Name of an old Offender, so that I had nothing to expect but Death, neither had I myself any thoughts of escaping, and yet a certain strange Lethargy of Soul possess'd me, I had no Trouble, no Apprehensions, no Sorrow about me, the first Surprize was gone; I was, I may well say, I know not how; my Senses, my Reason, nay, my Conscience were all a-sleep."

— Defoe, Daniel (1660?-1731)


Place of Publication
London
Publisher
W. Chetwood and T. Edling
Date
1722
Metaphor
"I had the Name of an old Offender, so that I had nothing to expect but Death, neither had I myself any thoughts of escaping, and yet a certain strange Lethargy of Soul possess'd me, I had no Trouble, no Apprehensions, no Sorrow about me, the first Surprize was gone; I was, I may well say, I know not how; my Senses, my Reason, nay, my Conscience were all a-sleep."
Metaphor in Context
I Had a Weight of Guilt upon me, enough to sink any Creature who had the least Power of Reflection left, and had any Sense upon them of the Happiness of this Life, or the Misery of another; I had at first, some Remorse indeed, but no Repentance; I had now, neither Remorse or Repentance: I had a Crime charg'd on me, the Punishment of which was Death; the Proof so Evident, that there was no Room for me, so much as to plead not guilty; I had the Name of an old Offender, so that I had nothing to expect but Death, neither had I myself any thoughts of escaping, and yet a certain strange Lethargy of Soul possess'd me, I had no Trouble, no Apprehensions, no Sorrow about me, the first Surprize was gone; I was, I may well say, I know not how; my Senses, my Reason, nay, my Conscience were all a-sleep; my Course of Life for forty Years had been a horrid Complication of Wickedness; Whoredom, Adultery, Incest, Lying, Theft, and in a Word, every thing but Murther, and Treason, had been my Practice, from the Age of Eighteen, or thereabouts to Threescore; and now I was ingulph'd in the Misery of Punishment, and had an infamous Death at the Door, and yet I had no Sense of my Condition, no Thought of Heaven or Hell, at least, that went any farther than a bare flying Touch, like the Stitch or Pain that gives a Hint and goes off; I neither had a Heart to ask God's Mercy, or indeed to think of it, and in this I think I have given a brief Discription of the compleatest Misery on Earth.
(p. 237)
Provenance
HDIS
Citation
At least 13 entries in the ESTC (1722, 1741, 1753, 1761, 1765, 1770, 1773, 1776, 1799). [Abridgments not included in foregoing list: see, for example, Fortune's Fickle Distribution]

Daniel Defoe, The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders, & c. Who was Born in Newgate, And during a Life of continu'd Variety for Threescore Years, besides her Childhood, was Twelve Years a Whore, five Times a Wife (whereof once to her own Brother) Twelve years a Thief, Eight Years a Transported Felon in Virginia, at last grew Rich, liv'd Honest, and died a Penitent. Written from her own Memorandums (London: W. Chetwood, at Cato's-Head in Russel-street, Covent Garden and T. Edling, at the Prince's-Arms, over against Exeter Change in the Strand, 1722).
Date of Entry
01/21/2004

The Mind is a Metaphor is authored by Brad Pasanek, Assistant Professor of English, University of Virginia.