Dickory Cronke: The Dumb Philosopher, or, Great Britain's WonderDefoe, Daniel
Philosophy
Dickory Cronke: The Dumb Philosopher, or, Great Britain's Wonder
Defoe, Daniel
Didactic fiction; Philosophers -- Fiction
"I have now no need of pen, ink, and paper, to tell you my meaning. I
find the strings that bound up my tongue, and hindered me from
speaking, are unloosed, and I have words to express myself as freely
and distinctly as any other person. From whence this strange and
unexpected event should proceed, I must not pretend to say, any
farther than this, that it is doubtless the hand of Providence that
has done it, and in that I ought to acquiesce. Pray let me be alone
for two or three hours, that I may be at liberty to compose myself,
and put my thoughts in the best order I can before I leave them behind
me."
The poor woman, though extremely startled at what her brother had
written, yet took care to conceal it from the neighbours, who, she knew,
as well as she, must be mightily surprised at a thing so utterly
unexpected. Says she, my brother desires to be alone; I believe he may
have something in his mind that disturbs him. Upon which the neighbours
took their leave and returned home, and his sister shut the door, and
left him alone to his private contemplations.
After the company were withdrawn he fell into a sound sleep, which lasted
from two till six, and his sister, being apprehensive of the return of
his fit, came to the bedside, and, asking softly if he wanted anything,
he turned about to her and spoke to this effect: Dear sister, you see me
not only recovered out of a terrible fit, but likewise that I have the
liberty of speech, a blessing that I have been deprived of almost sixty
years, and I am satisfied you are sincerely joyful to find me in the
state I now am in; but, alas! it is but a mistaken kindness. These are
things but of short duration, and if they were to continue for a hundred
years longer, I can't see how I should be anyways the better.
I know the world too well to be fond of it, and am fully satisfied that
the difference between a long and a short life is insignificant,
especially when I consider the accidents and company I am to encounter.
Do but look seriously and impartially upon the astonishing notion of time
and eternity, what an immense deal has run out already, and how infinite
it is still in the future; do but seriously and deliberately consider
this, and you will find, upon the whole, that three days and three ages
of life come much to the same measure and reckoning.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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