collection, a proposition which he embraced with alacrity. He drew up a _catalogue raisonne_ of his books, affixing his price for each volume. The collection was despatched in three or four trunks to Paternoster Row, and he received in payment the acceptances of the firm for as many thousand pounds. From some cause or other, the purchasers soon repented of their bargain, but the only terms which Horace Smith could obtain for the Longmans was an extension in the term of payment. Hill declared that the collection was worth double the price he had been paid for it. For many years Hill assisted Perry, of the _Morning Chronicle_, in making selections of rare books for his fine library at Tavistock House, particularly in the department of facetiae. After leaving Sydenham, Hill took chambers in James Street, Adelphi, where he resided until his death. The walls of his rooms were completely hidden by books, and his couch was 'enclosed in a lofty circumvallation of volumes piled up from the carpet.' He was never married, had no relations, and even his age was a source of mystery to his friends. James Smith once said to him: 'The fact is, Hill, the register of your birth was destroyed in the Great Fire of London, and you take advantage of the accident to conceal your real age.' Hook went further by suggesting that he might originally have been one of the little hills recorded as skipping in the Psalms. Hill died in 1840, his age being placed at eighty-three years. Horace Smith said 'he could not believe that Hill was dead, and he could not insult a man he had known so long; Hill would reappear.' [Illustration: _Thomas Hill, after Maclise._] Samuel Rogers, the banker poet, was also a book-collector, but not in the sense of one who aims at number. His house at 22, St. James's Place, overlooking Green Park, was for over half a century--he had removed here from the Temple about 1803--one of the most celebrated meeting-places of literature and art in London. Byron, in his 'Diary,' says, 'If you enter his house--his drawing-room, his library--you of yourself say, This is not the dwelling of a common mind. There is not a gem, a coin, a book, thrown aside on his chimney-piece, his sofa, his table, that does not bespeak an almost fastidious elegance in the possessor.' A writer in the _Athenaeum_ of December 29, 1855, a few days after the poet's death, describes the library as 'lined with bookcases surmounted by Greek vases, each one remarkable for its exquisite beauty of form. Upon the gilt lattice-work of the bookcases are lightly hung in frames some of the finest original sketches by Raphael, Michelangelo, and Andrea del Sarto; and finished paintings by Angelico da Fiesole, and Fouquet of Tours.' Among the treasures of the library were the MSS. of Gray, in their perfect calligraphy, and the famous agreement between Milton and the publisher Simmonds, for the copyright of 'Paradise Lost.' [Illustration: _Samuel Rogers's House in St. James's Place._]