The French sentinel is so situated as to give some idea of a figure hanging in chains: his ragged shirt is trimmed with a pair of paper ruffles, on which is written "Grand Monarch. P." The old woman, and a fish which she is pointing at, have a striking resemblance. The abundance of parsnips and other vegetables indicate what are the leading articles in a Lenten feast. Mr. Pine the painter sat for the friar, and from thence acquired the title of Father Pine. This distinction did not flatter him, and he frequently requested that the countenance might be altered, but the artist peremptorily refused. Part of the print was engraved by C. Mosley, but the heads are evidently by Hogarth.[175] A copy has been repeatedly engraven as an head-piece to the cantata before mentioned: the profile of the artist was traced for a watch-paper; and a wooden representation of the starved soldier has frequently decorated advertisements for recruits, where it is opposed to the figure of a well-fed gourmand, characteristically christened a valiant British soldier. The original picture is in the possession of Lord Charlemont. Soon after this painting was finished, a nail was by some accident run through the cross at the top of the gate. Hogarth strove in vain to repair the blemish with paint of the same colour; he therefore introduced a half-starved crow looking down on the beef, and thus completely covered the defect. [Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)] THE COUNTRY INN YARD, OR THE STAGE-COACH. "The poet's adage, 'All the world's a stage,' Has stood the test of each revolving age; Another simile perhaps will bear, 'Tis a _Stage-coach_, where all must pay the fare; Where each his entrance and his exit makes, And o'er life's rugged road his journey takes. Some unprotected must their tour perform, 'And bide the pelting of the pitiless storm:' While others, free from elemental jars, By fortune favour'd, and propitious stars, Secure from storms, enjoy their little hour, Despise the whirlwind, and defy the shower. Such is our life,--in sunshine or in shade, From evil shelter'd, or by woe assay'd: Whether we sit, like Niobe, all tears, Or calmly sink into the vale of years: With houseless, naked Edgar, sleep on straw, Or keep, like Cæsar, subject worlds in awe,-- To the same port our devious journeys tend, Where airy hopes and sickening sorrows end; Sunk every eye, and languid every breast, Each wearied pilgrim sighs, and sinks to rest."--E. [Illustration: THE COUNTRY INN YARD.]