Sterne’s sermons are, in general, very short, which circumstance gave
rise to the following joke at Bull’s Library, at Bath:--A footman had
been sent by his lady to purchase one of Smallridge’s sermons, when, by
mistake, he asked for a _small religious_ sermon. The bookseller being
puzzled how to reply to his request, a gentleman present suggested,
“Give him one of Sterne’s.”
It has been observed, that if Sterne had never written one line more
than his picture of the mournful cottage, towards the conclusion of his
fifth sermon, we might cheerfully indulge the devout hope that the
recording angel, whom he once invoked, will have blotted out many of his
imperfections.
“TOM HILL.”
A few days before the close of 1840, London lost one of its choicest
spirits, and humanity one of her kindest-hearted sons, in the death of
Thomas Hill, Esq.--“Tom Hill,” as he was called by all who loved and
knew him. His life exemplified one venerable proverb, and disproved
another; he was born in May, 1760, and was, consequently, in his 81st
year, and “as old as the hills;” having led a long life and a merry one.
He was originally a drysalter; but about the year 1810, having sustained
a severe loss by a speculation in indigo, he retired upon the remains of
his property to chambers in the Adelphi, where he died; his physician
remarking to him, “I can do no more for you--I have done all I can. I
cannot cure age.”
Hill, when in business at the unlettered Queenhithe, found leisure to
accumulate a fine collection of books, chiefly old poetry, which
afterwards, when misfortune overtook him, was valued at 6000_l._ Hill
was likewise a Mæcenas: he patronized 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. Hill also
established _The Monthly Mirror_, to which Kirke White was a
contributor. Hill was the Hull of Hook’s _Gilbert Gurney_. He happened
to know everything that was going on in all circles; and was at all
“private views” of exhibitions. So especially was he favoured, that a
wag recorded, when asked whether he had seen the new comet, he
replied--“Pooh! pooh! I was present at the private view.”
Hill left behind him an assemblage of literary rarities, which it
occupied a clear week to sell by auction. Among them was Garrick’s cup,
formed from the mulberry tree planted by Shakespeare in his garden at
New Place, Stratford-upon-Avon; this produced forty guineas. A small
vase and pedestal, carved from the same mulberry-tree, and presented to
Garrick, was sold with a coloured drawing of it, for ten guineas. And a
block of wood, cut from the celebrated willow planted by Pope, at his
villa at Twickenham, brought one guinea.