midnight
Within two days , he saw at the door of every bookseller a placard with the words -- `` Just published , A DEFENCE OF THE WAR WITH FRANCE , by the Right Hon. Lord L -- . '' George compared himself to Esau , who sold his birthright for a mess of pottage -- he had bartered his name , his fame , and the fruits of his genius , for a paltry guinea . He began to be ashamed of the shabbiness of his garments -- the withering meaning of the word clung round him -- he felt it as a festering sore eating into his very soul , and he appeared but little upon the streets . He had been several weeks without a lodging , and though it was now summer , the winds of heaven afford but a comfortless blanket for the shoulders when the midnight dews fall upon the earth . He had slept for several nights in a hayfield in the suburbs , on the Kent side of the river ; and his custom was , to lift a few armfuls aside on a low rick , and laying himself down in the midst of it , gradually placing the hay over his feet , and the rest of his body , until the whole was covered . But the hay season did not last for ever ; and one morning , when fast asleep in the middle of the rick , he was roused by a sudden exclamation of mingled horror and astonishment . He looked up , and beside him stood a countryman , with his mouth open , and his eyes gazing wistfully .