The same humane and generous Mr. Mallet, who had before aided his
Merope, about this time was making interest for its being played again,
for the advantage of its author:--His royal highness the prince of
Wales; had the great goodness to command it; and Mr. Hill just lived to
express his grateful acknowledgments (to those about him) upon hearing
of it:--But on the day before it was to be represented he died, in the
very minute of the earthquake, February the eighth, 1749, which he
seemed sensible of, though then deprived of utterance. Had he lived two
days longer, he had been sixty-five years old.--He endur'd a
twelve-month's torment of the body with a calmness that confess'd a
superiority of soul! He was interred in the same grave with her the most
dear to him when living, in the great cloister of Westminster-Abbey;
near the lord Godolphin's tomb.

It may be truly said of Mr. Hill, he was a great and general writer; and
had he been possest of the estate he was intitled to, his liberality had
been no less extensive than his genius. But often do we see misfortune's
clouds obscure the brightest sunshine.

Besides his works which here have been enumerated, there are several
other; particularly two poems, intitled the Creation, and the
Judgment-Day; which were published many years ago.--Another in blank
verse he published in the time of his retreat into Essex; it was called,
Cleon to Lycidas, a Time Piece; the date not marked by the printer.

Some years before his death, he talked of making a collection of his
works for publication; but postponed it for the finishing some pieces,
which he did not live to effect.