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Mr
.
Pickwick
nodded
assent
.
‘
Ah
!
people
need
to
rise
early
,
to
see
the
sun
in
all
his
splendour
,
for
his
brightness
seldom
lasts
the
day
through
.
The
morning
of
day
and
the
morning
of
life
are
but
too
much
alike
.
’
‘
You
speak
truly
,
sir
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
How
common
the
saying
,
’
continued
the
dismal
man
,
‘
"
The
morning
’
s
too
fine
to
last
.
"
How
well
might
it
be
applied
to
our
everyday
existence
.
God
!
what
would
I
forfeit
to
have
the
days
of
my
childhood
restored
,
or
to
be
able
to
forget
them
for
ever
!
’
‘
You
have
seen
much
trouble
,
sir
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
compassionately
.
‘
I
have
,
’
said
the
dismal
man
hurriedly
;
‘
I
have
.
More
than
those
who
see
me
now
would
believe
possible
.
’
He
paused
for
an
instant
,
and
then
said
abruptly
—
‘
Did
it
ever
strike
you
,
on
such
a
morning
as
this
,
that
drowning
would
be
happiness
and
peace
?
’
‘
God
bless
me
,
no
!
’
replied
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
edging
a
little
from
the
balustrade
,
as
the
possibility
of
the
dismal
man
’
s
tipping
him
over
,
by
way
of
experiment
,
occurred
to
him
rather
forcibly
.
‘
I
have
thought
so
,
often
,
’
said
the
dismal
man
,
without
noticing
the
action
.
‘
The
calm
,
cool
water
seems
to
me
to
murmur
an
invitation
to
repose
and
rest
.
A
bound
,
a
splash
,
a
brief
struggle
;
there
is
an
eddy
for
an
instant
,
it
gradually
subsides
into
a
gentle
ripple
;
the
waters
have
closed
above
your
head
,
and
the
world
has
closed
upon
your
miseries
and
misfortunes
for
ever
.
’
The
sunken
eye
of
the
dismal
man
flashed
brightly
as
he
spoke
,
but
the
momentary
excitement
quickly
subsided
;
and
he
turned
calmly
away
,
as
he
said
—
