Article #460-1 | Gutenberg Articles

Excerpt

Excerpt from The Dawn of a To-morrow, by Frances Hodgson Burnett

His lodgings were not far from the Embankment, and he knew at last that
he was wandering along it, and had reached one of the bridges. His mood
led him to turn in upon it, and when he reached an embrasure to stop
near it and lean upon the parapet looking down. He could not see the
water, the fog was too dense, but he could hear some faint splashing
against stones. He had taken no food and was rather faint. What a
strange thing it was to feel faint for want of food--to stand alone, cut
off from every other human being--everything done for. No wonder that
sometimes, particularly on such days as these, there were plunges made
from the parapet--no wonder. He leaned farther over and strained his
eyes to see some gleam of water through the yellowness. But it was not
to be done. He was thinking the inevitable thing, of course; but such a
plunge would not do for him. The other thing would destroy all traces.

As he drew back he heard something fall with the solid tinkling sound of
coin on the flag pavement. When he had been in the pawnbroker's shop he
had taken the gold from his purse and thrust it carelessly into his
waistcoat pocket, thinking that it would be easy to reach when he chose
to give it to one beggar or another, if he should see some wretch who
would be the better for it. Some movement he had made in bending had
caused a sovereign to slip out and it had fallen upon the stones.

He did not intend to pick it up, but in the moment in which he stood
looking down at it he heard close to him a shuffling movement. What he
had thought a bundle of rags or rubbish covered with sacking--some
tramp's deserted or forgotten belongings--was stirring. It was alive,
and as he bent to look at it the sacking divided itself, and a small
head, covered with a shock of brilliant red hair, thrust itself out, a
shrewd, small face turning to look up at him slyly with deep-set black
eyes.

Explanation

**Detailed Explanation of the Excerpt from The Dawn of a To-morrow by Frances Hodgson Burnett**

Context of the Source

Frances Hodgson Burnett (1849–1924) was a British-American novelist best known for works like Little Lord Fauntleroy (1886), A Little Princess (1905), and The Secret Garden (1911). The Dawn of a To-morrow (1906) is a lesser-known novel that explores themes of despair, redemption, and the transformative power of human connection.

The novel follows Sir George Orrell, a wealthy but morally bankrupt man who, after a life of selfishness and financial ruin, finds himself on the brink of suicide. The excerpt occurs at a critical moment when he wanders through London in a state of deep despair, contemplating ending his life.

Themes in the Excerpt

Despair and Isolation
- The protagonist is utterly alone, both physically and emotionally. The fog—thick, suffocating, and impenetrable—mirrors his mental state. He is "cut off from every other human being," emphasizing his alienation.
- His faintness from hunger suggests not just physical deprivation but also a spiritual emptiness. He has lost all purpose, and even basic survival feels meaningless.
Suicidal Ideation
- The bridge and the unseen water below symbolize death as an escape. The "splashing against stones" hints at the finality of suicide, a theme reinforced by his thought: "No wonder that sometimes... there were plunges made from the parapet."
- His rejection of suicide ("such a plunge would not do for him") suggests he seeks a more complete erasure—perhaps financial ruin or self-destruction in another form.
Fate and Redemption
- The dropped sovereign (gold coin) is a pivotal moment. It represents both his past wealth (now slipping away) and an unexpected opportunity for change.
- The appearance of the red-haired child (later revealed to be a poor, streetwise boy) interrupts his despair. The child’s sudden presence suggests that fate—or divine intervention—may offer an alternative path.
Class and Poverty
- The contrast between the wealthy, despairing man and the destitute child highlights social inequality. The man, despite his riches, is spiritually bankrupt, while the child, though poor, possesses a sharp, survivalist wit ("shrewd, small face").
- The coin, intended for a beggar, now becomes a symbol of the man’s potential redemption through an act of charity or connection.

Literary Devices & Stylistic Analysis

Symbolism
- The Fog – Represents confusion, moral blindness, and the protagonist’s inability to see a way forward. It also evokes London’s industrial gloom, a common motif in Victorian and Edwardian literature (e.g., Dickens’ Bleak House).
- The Bridge & Water – Traditional symbols of transition (life/death, despair/hope). The fact that he cannot see the water reinforces his lack of clarity.
- The Sovereign (Coin) – A literal and metaphorical "fall" from grace. Its loss forces him to confront his situation differently.
- The Red-Haired Child – The child’s vibrant hair contrasts with the gray fog, signaling vitality and a possible path to renewal. His "sly" gaze suggests both wariness and intelligence, traits the protagonist lacks.
Imagery & Sensory Details
- Auditory Imagery: "faint splashing against stones," "solid tinkling sound of coin" – These sounds ground the scene in reality while heightening tension.
- Tactile Imagery: "lean upon the parapet," "shuffling movement" – Creates a sense of physical weight, mirroring the protagonist’s emotional burden.
- Visual Obscurity: The fog’s "yellowness" (a sickly, unnatural hue) reinforces the atmosphere of decay and uncertainty.
Foreshadowing & Irony
- The man assumes the "bundle of rags" is trash, but it turns out to be a child—dramatic irony that underscores his own blindness to human suffering.
- His intention to give the coin to a beggar is ironic because he himself is now in a state of beggary (spiritually and nearly physically).
Stream of Consciousness
- The protagonist’s thoughts flow associatively ("No wonder... no wonder"), mimicking the cyclical nature of depression. His musings on suicide feel unfiltered, as if the reader is inside his mind.
Juxtaposition
- The man’s wealth (gold coin) vs. the child’s poverty (rags, sacking).
- His passive despair vs. the child’s active survival instincts.

Significance of the Passage

This excerpt is a turning point in the novel. The protagonist is at his lowest, but the dropped coin and the child’s appearance introduce the possibility of change. Key takeaways:

Despair is not the end – The child’s sudden presence disrupts the man’s suicidal thoughts, suggesting that human connection (even with a stranger) can alter fate.
Wealth does not equate to fulfillment – The man’s gold is meaningless compared to the child’s resilience.
Small acts can have large consequences – The lost coin, though seemingly trivial, becomes a catalyst for the man’s eventual redemption.

The scene also reflects Burnett’s social commentary—critiquing the moral emptiness of the wealthy while highlighting the overlooked dignity of the poor.

Conclusion: Why This Passage Matters

This moment captures the essence of the novel’s central conflict: a man who has lost everything—money, purpose, self-worth—confronts the choice between annihilation and rebirth. The fog, the bridge, the coin, and the child all serve as metaphors for his internal struggle. The child’s emergence is not just a plot device but a symbol of hope, suggesting that even in the darkest moments, life offers unexpected chances for salvation.

Burnett’s prose here is psychologically intense, blending naturalism (the grimy reality of London) with symbolic realism (the fog as a state of mind). The passage’s power lies in its raw honesty about despair and its subtle promise that redemption is possible—if one is willing to see it.

Questions

Question 1

The protagonist’s observation that "No wonder that sometimes, particularly on such days as these, there were plunges made from the parapet" serves primarily to:

A. establish the bridge as a literal site of frequent suicides, grounding the narrative in historical fact.
B. foreshadow his own imminent suicide, creating suspense about whether he will jump.
C. externalise his psychological state, framing the environment as an extension of his existential despair.
D. critique societal indifference to mental suffering, implying systemic failure to prevent such acts.
E. contrast his intellectual detachment from suicide with the emotional impulsivity of others.

Question 2

The dropped sovereign functions as a symbolic pivot in the passage because it:

A. represents the protagonist’s carelessness with wealth, reinforcing his moral bankruptcy.
B. serves as a literal obstacle that forces him to confront the child, altering his trajectory.
C. embodies the tension between fate and agency, as an unintended act that disrupts his despair.
D. highlights the economic disparity between the protagonist and the child, underscoring class conflict.
E. foreshadows the child’s eventual theft of the coin, introducing a narrative of exploitation.

Question 3

The child’s emergence from the "bundle of rags" is most effectively read as a:

A. realist depiction of urban poverty, prioritising social documentation over symbolic weight.
B. supernatural intervention, suggesting divine or providential disruption of the protagonist’s despair.
C. critique of the protagonist’s privilege, as his initial assumption reveals his dehumanisation of the poor.
D. moment of dark comedy, undercutting the gravity of the protagonist’s suicidal contemplation.
E. narrative embodiment of latent possibility, where the child’s vitality contrasts the protagonist’s stagnation.

Question 4

The fog’s "yellowness" is most plausibly interpreted as:

A. a naturalistic detail, reflecting the pollution of industrial London without deeper metaphorical significance.
B. a biblical allusion to sulfur or brimstone, framing the scene as a moral reckoning for the protagonist.
C. a psychological projection of the protagonist’s jaundiced, cynical worldview onto his surroundings.
D. an ambiguous symbol that resists singular interpretation, oscillating between decay and obscured hope.
E. a Gothic convention, evoking the uncanny and signalling the protagonist’s descent into madness.

Question 5

The passage’s structural movement—from the protagonist’s solitude to the child’s appearance—primarily enacts a shift from:

A. realism to allegory, as the child’s symbolic role eclipses the gritty details of urban life.
B. introspection to action, marking the transition from passive despair to potential agency.
C. individualism to collectivism, suggesting that community is the antidote to existential isolation.
D. modernist fragmentation to Victorian moral clarity, resolving ambiguity with a redemptive figure.
E. stasis to disruption, where the child’s intrusion forces a reevaluation of the protagonist’s assumed endings.

Solutions and Explanations

1) Correct answer: C

Why C is most correct: The protagonist’s remark about suicides is not merely observational (A) or predictive (B), but a projection of his own mental state onto the environment. The bridge and its "plunges" become a physical manifestation of his internal despair, blurring the line between subjective experience and objective reality. This aligns with the passage’s use of pathetic fallacy, where the setting mirrors emotion. The phrasing "no wonder" suggests he is rationalising his own impulses by universalising them, a classic tactic of psychological avoidance.