Gilbert Gurney, beyond comparison the best book of its class produced in our time. It is also related that Hill furnished Mr. Poole with the original of his humorous character of Paul Pry, but this statement is very doubtful, for Paul Pry, if we mistake not, is of French extraction. It is, however, more certain that "Pooh, pooh!" and other habitual expressions of Mr. Hill's, may have been introduced by Mr. Poole into the character. Hill, it may here be added, had the entrée to both Houses of Parliament, the theatres, and almost all places of public resort. He was to be met with at the private view of the Royal Academy, and every kind of exhibition. So especially was he favoured, that it was recorded by a wag, that, when asked whether he had seen the new comet, he replied, "Pooh, pooh! I was present at the private view!" Mr. Hill, to borrow from Mr. Hook's portrait, "happened to know everything that was going forward in all circles-mercantile, political, fashionable, literary, or theatrical-in addition to all matters connected with military and naval affairs, agriculture, finance, art, and science-everything came alike to him." Such a man was, of course, sure of success as a "collector" of literary curiosities. Even while in business as a drysalter at the unlettered Queenhithe, he found leisure to accumulate a fine collection of old books, chiefly old poetry, which afterwards, when misfortunes overtook him, was valued at six thousand pounds! Hill was likewise a Macænas: he patronised two friendless poets-Bloomfield and Kirke White. The "Farmer's Boy" of the former was read and admired by him in manuscript, and was recommended to a publisher; after which Hill rendered very essential service to its success by talking in society of its merits. Mr. Hill established, also, the Monthly Mirror, which brought him much into connection with dramatic poets, actors, and managers. To this periodical work Kirke White became a contributor, and this encouragement induced him, about the close of the year 1802, to commit a little volume of poetry to the press. Mr. Southey, in his Life of Kirke White, refers to Mr. Hill as possessing one of the most copious collections of English poetry in existence. A portrait of Hill, an admirable likeness, appears in Mathews's Life and Correspondence.

The penchant for collecting curiosities rarely leaves a man : he collects and disperses, and collects and disperses again, and so he reads the full page of human intellect to the end of the chapter. Thus was it with Hill; and although his first col

lection may have been scattered by the winds of adversity, he left an assemblage of literary rarities and eccentricitie, which occupied Evans, of Pall Mall, a clear week to sell by auction. The following extract details a few of the most conspicuous lots disposed of :

G. F. Cook's memoranda of the leading events of his own life in his own handwriting-very curious.

Tate Wilkinson's account of Mathews's acting at his theatre at Hull, in 1798; and a scene from the pen of Foote, the authenticity of which Hill guaranteed.

R. B. Sheridan's letters to Ward, of Drury Lane, "Beg, borrow, steal, forge £10 for me, and send by return of post.' Letter to Ward, "Thou art a trusty man," &c. ; "As I have replaced the £10 you may reputably renew the theft."

R. B. Sheridan's afflicting letter on his "desperate situation." "I must render myself to-night." Letter on the Speaker's interrupting Sheridan: "But I will take an opportunity to make the Speaker remember this."

Letter of James Heath (the engraver) to Sheridan, threatening to sell the portrait of St. Cecilia (Mrs. Sheridan) if the money were not paid, no matter what might be the consequences legally-a letter (said Mr. Evans) that was supposed to have affected Sheridan more acutely than any one he ever received; it was sold for £2 7s.

T. P. Moore's letter to Perry, stating that Lord Byron had just called on him to request him to use his influence with Perry to get a report of his speech in the House of Lords, as written out by himself, inserted in the Morning Chronicle.

Coleridge's interesting letter to Perry: "Alas! dear sir, how adversity tames us;" his abhorrence of party trammels, and very spirited expression of his feelings on the then political events. "It was in your paper that my first poetic efforts were brought before the public.'

O. Smith's (the actor) admirable letter of remonstrance to Harris, the manager, on being always placed in the character of a devil, demon, &c. ; it preys on his spirits: "My infernal reputation follows me everywhere. No one will receive the devil into society." Sola (the harp-player), a most whimsical letter to Mr. Hill respecting Paganini, in broken English and French.

Porson's Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire, a great literary curiosity, a very humourous and whimsical drama, written by

Porson when a scholar at Eton, where it was acted by himself and his schoolfellows, Dr. Goodall, Chafie, &c.; Porson himself performing Punch.

A letter from Mr. F. Broderip, with information of the performers in Porson's drama, from Mr. Richards, an old Etonian, in a letter of four quarto pages, in reality the composition of Theodore Hook. It is an admirable specimen of grave irony, and would have been worthy of a place in one of his celebrated novels. A second letter of Mr. Broderip apologizes for the hoax practised on Mr. Hill, and confesses the letter of Mr. Richards to be the production of Mr. Hook's creative imagination.

A very singular letter to Porson, from an anonymous correspondent, "begging he will wear two waistcoats which accompany this note.' Theodore Hook, inviting Mr. Hill to

Richmond: "Please to recollect that tide waits for no man but you; do not say pooh-pooh, but come." Kemble: "Stevens always seemed to be like the air, everywhere to be sure, but it cannot be said that anybody ever saw him.”

Mozart's letter, of extraordinary interest, dated Vienna, Sept., 1791, entirely in his own handwriting; in it he mentions his conviction of his own approaching death, and that he is engaged composing his own funeral dirge; he sees the unknown figure constantly before him. The autograph of Mozart is extremely rare; he died Dec. 5, 1792.

Garrick's Shakspere Cup, formed from the mulberry-tree planted by Shakspere, and used by our modern Roscius at the Shakspere jubilee and Drury Lane Theatre, with an inscription on the stem, from Garrick's ode.

Pope's willow, a block of wood cut from the celebrated willow planted by Pope at the villa at Twickenham.

Such are but a few of the relics assembled by Tom Hill and now Thoma Vale! Vale Thoma!

THE DOCTOR."

THIS strange but clever book, published anonymously, and never acknowledged, but believed to be by Southey, appeared in five volumes, in 1834, 1835, and 1837, and is one of the most remarkable of the author's prose works. He had taken for his prototype Tristram Shandy; the object of his principal character, the "Doctor," like Sterne's "My Father," being to pour out from stores of book-knowledge, such a string of piquant quotations as comparatively few men in this country possess. This borrowed wisdom is set in the author's sterling English, of as pure a standard as we can expect to find in the present day. He is, in common parlance, a stickler for old English observances, the main drift of the book being to strengthen and revive the genuine old English feelings and tastes. It abounds with "quips, quirks, and quidelities," and anecdotes of rare pleasantry and entertaining book-gossip.

Southey was born in 1774, and educated at Westminster, and Balliol College, Oxford; studied for the law at Gray's Inn, but never practised. He served in political office, from which he retired, and then established himself at Greta Hall, Cumberland, where he passed the rest of his days. No man in our day (at least, no man of genius) led so uniformly and entirely the life of a scholar, devoting himself to learning with the enthusiasm of an early love, with the severity and consciousness of a religious vow. The variety and piquancy of his writings form a striking contrast to the mode in which he produced more than one hundred volumes.* He rose early, and wrote or read till breakfast time. He wrote or read after breakfast till dinner, after dinner till tea, and from tea till bed-time,

"And followed so the ever running year
With profitable labour to the grave,"

Study

on Derwent's banks, beneath the foot of Skiddaw. served him for business, exercise, recreation. Lord Byron

* Probably, the fullest list of publications will be that in the Penny Encyclopædia, Supplement (1851).

said of him in 1813: "His appearance was epic; and he was the only existing entire man of letters." His prose was perfect. Coleridge maintained that Southey's character had for its only enemies, "quacks in education, quacks in politics, and quacks in criticism."

He died in the spring of 1843. No artisan in the workshop, no peasant in the field, no handicraftsman at his board, ever went so young to his apprenticeship, or wrought so unremittingly through life, for a bare livelihood, as Robert Southey. Sixty years' continued toil, though they rendered an honest, prudent, honourable, and religious man, happy and grateful in the midst of suffering and common sorrow to all, yet left him comparatively poor and actually dependent upon the generosity of his country.*

All that we can attempt in this brief sketch, is a selection from Southey's works, commencing with the following exquisite sketch of the true old yeoman existence, or of the "Doctor :"

THE ENGLISH YEOMAN.

"Daniel, the father, was one of a race of men, who, unhappily, are now almost extinct. He lived upon an estate of six-and-twenty acres, which his fathers had possessed before him, all Doves and Daniels, in uninterrupted succession, from time immemorial, farther than register or title-deeds could ascend.

"The little church, called Chapel-le-Dale stands about a bow-shot from the family house. There they had all been carried to the font; there they had each led his bride to the altar; and thither they had each, in his turn, been borne upon the shoulders of their friends and neighbours. Earth to earth, they had been consigned there for so many generations, that half of the soil of the churchyard consisted of their remains. A hermit, who might wish his grave to be as quiet as his cell, could imagine no fitter retiring place. On three sides there was an irregular, low stone wall, rather to mark the limits of the sacred ground than to enclose it; on the fourth it was bounded by the brook, whose waters proceed by a subterranean channel from Wethercote cave. Two or three alder and rowan trees hung over the brook, and shed

* Sir Archibald Alison says Southey left a son and three daughters, with about £12,000 in money, besides a valuable library. Somewhat late in life he received a well-earned pension of £300 per annum.