from ch 10
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J. sleeps badly, and has a dream that doctors are trying to cut him open after he swallowed a sovereign. He begins a serious digression, discussing the beauty and melancholy of night. He concludes the chapter with a story about a knight who gets lost in the woods but manages to find joy in his suffering.
And yet it seems so full of comfort and of strength, the night. In its great presence, our small sorrows creep away, ashamed. The day has been so full of fret and care, and our hearts have been so full of evil and of bitter thoughts, and the world has seemed so hard and wrong to us. Then Night, like some great loving mother, gently lays her hand upon our fevered head, and turns our little tear-stained faces up to hers, and smiles; and, though she does not speak, we know what she would say, and lay our hot flushed cheek against her bosom, and the pain is gone.