ROBERT NICOLL'S LIFE AND POEMS.

AFTER full allowance has been made for the greater facility Of ob- taining education now than in former ages, ROBERT Nicola, thelate editor of the Leeds Times, will always take a station among those who have illustrated the pursuit of knowledge under difficulties. The son of a Perthshire farmer, who at the time ofhis birth was in "comfortable circumstances for his station and locality," ROBERT, in early childhood, seemed destined to a rustic competence; but his father had become security for a family connexion to the extent of some six hundred pounds, this individual absconded, and -the elder Meow. was ruined. The whole of his property was sold ; he himself reduced to work as a day-labourer on the farm he had rented; his wife, deprived of the leisure she had hitherto possessed to instruct her children, was obliged to devote the whole of her time to family drudgery, and to field labour; in -which her eight children also seem to have been employed as soon as they were able. Still, under these discouraging circumstances, the parents gave their children the rudiments of an education which enabled ROBERT Nicola, the author of the Poems before us, to attain some mark in the world, and the other members to procure creditable situa- tions in life.

At the time of his father's ruin, ROBERT Meow. was only five years old.

" I was then," he writes in a biographical letter to Mr. JOHNSTONE the book- seller, of -Edinburgh, "too young to know the full extent of our misfortunes ; but young as I was, I saw and felt agreat change. My mother, in her early W years, was an ardent book-woman. When she became poor, her time was too precious to admit of its being spent in reading, and I generally read to her while she was working ; for she took care that her children should not want education. Ever since I can remember, I was a keen and earnest reader. Be- fore I was six years of age, I read every book that came in my way, and had gone twice through my grandfather's small collection, though I had never been at schooL " When I had attained my sixth year, I was sent to the parish-school, which was three miles distant ; and I generally read going and returning. To this day I can walk as quickly as my neighbours, and read at the same time with the greatest ease. 1 was sent to the herding at seven years of age, and con- tinued herding all summer, and attending school all winter with my 'fee.' " In a few notes written by Nicoll's younger brother, Mr. William Nicoll, now of Glasgow, in adverting to Robert's childhood, it is said—' Even at this early period Robert was a voracious reader, and never went to the herding without a book in his plaid ; and he generally read both going and returning from school. From his studious disposition, though a favourite with the other boys from his sweetness of temper, he hardly ever went by any other name than the minister. When about twelve he was taken from herding, and sent to work in the garden of a neighbouring proprietor. With the difference that he had now less time for reading than before, the change in his employment made very little change in his habits. He went to school during the winter as usual.'

"In one of those winters he began the Latin Rudiments ; and, besides writing and scrounts, he seems to have acquired some knowledge of geometry. We should, however, say that Nicoll knew little of any science, and nothing of any language save English and his own beautiful Done. He never made any pre- tensions of the sort. His slight acquaintance with the Latin Rudiments must, however, have been of use to him when he subsequently taught himself gram- mar from Cobhett's useful compendium. But hie regular school-learning, whatever its amount, was all acquired at intervals, and in the dull season of the year when be could not work out of doors. • • •

" Vl hen be was between eleven and twelve, a book-club had been established in the Tillage of the parish; and in his letter to Mr. Johnstone be says,' when had saved a sufficient quantity of silver coin, I became a member. I had previously devoured all the honks to be got in the parish for love, and I soon devoured all those in the litrary for money. Besides, by that time 1 began to get larger ' fees,' (wages,) and I was able to pay 18.6d. a month for a mouth or two to a bookseller in Perth for reading. From him I got many new works; and among the rest the Waverley Novels. With them I was enchanted. They opened up new sources of interest and thought, of which 1 before knew nothing. 1 can vet look with no common feelings on the wood in which, while herding,

1 read-Kenilworth. • ••• • " When about thirteen, Nicoll began to scribble his thoughts, and to make rhymes ; and his brother relates that be was so far honoured as, at this age, to become the correspondent of a provincial newspaper, the manager of which, in requital of small scraps of parish news, sent him an occasional copy of the journal. We cannot tell how Robert obtained this distinguished post; but the editor afterwards found a correspondent more suitable, at least in point of age, and Robert was deprived of his office. His brother states that be was rather chagrined at the abrupt disruption of this his first connexion with the press.

" It ass probably in consequence of his acquaintance with Mr. Marshall that the change thus described in his letter to Mr. Johnstone took place. ' As nearly as I can remember, I began to write my thoughts when I was thirteen years of age, and continued to do so at intervals until I was sixteen ; when, despairing of ever being able to write the English language correctly, 1 made a bonfire of my papers, and wrote no more till 1 was eighteen. " My excursive course of reading, among both pueta and prosers, gave me many pleasures of which my fellows knew nothing; but it likewise made me more sensitive to the insults and degradations that a dependent must suffer. You cannot know the horrors of dependence; but I have felt them, and have registered a vow in heaven that I shall be independent, though it be but on a crust Red water.

" To further my progress in life, I bound myself apprentice to Mrs. J. H. Robertson, wine-merchant and grocer, in Perth. When 1 came to Perth, I bought Cobbett's English Grammar ; and by constant study soon made myself master of it, and then commenced writing as before; and you know the result.

" When I first came to Perth, a gentleman lent me his right to the Perth Library ; and thus 1 procured many works 1 could not get before,—Milton's Pr se Works, Locke's Works, and, what I prized more than all, a few of Bentham's, with many other works in various departments of literature and science, which I had not had the good fortune to read before • 1 vas twenty years of age in the month of January last ; and my appren- ticeship expires in September next. By that time 1 hope, by close study, to have mode myself a good French scholar ; and I intend, if 1 can raise the monies, to emigrate to the United States of North America.'"

These extracts will convey an idea of the nature of the diffi- culties with which Nrcom. had to struggle, and the depths of po- verty whence he bad to emerge. Those who wish to pursue the subject in detail may read in the volume his different endeavours to obtain a fixed livelihood, the manner in which he snatched a few hours in the morning and evening before and after his daily task, for reading and writing.; his correspondence on different subjects, including his view of his own situation ; his gradual progress in literature, from a "letter to the editor" or a short tale in John- stone's Magazine, till he published, through Mr. TAIT'S kindness, the volume of poems which first introduced him to general notice.* After this appearance, his most judicious advisers wished that he ahould rest upon his oars ; and such a course no doubt would have afforded him more leisure to study nature, himself, and the writings of other men. But ROBERT blicom, had just escaped from his teens ; he was ambitious of distinction ; and the privacy or the pursuits that his circumstances held out to him were certainly not of an attractive kind. An imprudent determination to try his fortune in London as a literary adventurer was checked by the advice of his Edinburgh friends ; and, to keep him from this rash enterprise, Mr. TAIT gave him some employment till he could procure for him an editorship, which he shortly afterwards did in Leeds. The opinions of Nicola., as may be supposed from his early experience of the proud man's contumely and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, were by no means fa- vourable to the privileged classes : be was a Radical, or perhaps what would now be called a Chartist ; but if he loved the Tories little he loved the Whigs less. Though incapable, from his want of education And limited experience, of taking a sound or compre- hensive view of " that complex thing called a state," yet his poetical imagination, his earnest style, his lofty sense of right, and the feel- ing of honest conviction that pervaded his writings, rendered his denunciations highly popular among the Radicals of Leeds and its vicinity, and considerably increased the circulation of the paper. The duties of an editor, reporter, and news-compiler, were not, however, enough for Nrcor.L's ardour : he wrote a "leader" for a Sheffield paper; he became connected with various societies both in Leeds and other places, which involved correspondence and speaking; and on the occasion of public meetings or an election, he never scrupled to task himself far beyond his strength. This incessant exertion, which had been continued in one shape or another from early childhood, accompanied by very scanty fare, was too much for his constitution. He had accepted the editor- ship of the Leeds Times in 1836; by the autumn of 1837 be was compelled to resign it and return to Edinburgh ; where he died in December,—his last illness being comforted by a remittance of fifty pounds from 'Sir WILLIAM MOLESWORTB, which Sir ,Wzrmast sent on hearing of his condition from Mr:Tarr. Of the poetry of ROBERT liteora, we have little lo add to what we said of it when the first edition of his Poems appeared.

• The Poems were reviewed In the Spectator, 7th November 1835. Several of the new productions in the present volume exhibit an improving writer, having more of original thought and a closer style : but a good many of them are, substantially, rustic common- place—the mimicry rather than the essences of things, or the por- traiture of manners or of feelings which every Scotchman with a turn for versifying copies, though the style of the repetition differs with the literary power of different men. As the productions of a youth who died at three-and-twenty, after a life passed in difficul- ties such as we have indicated, these Poems are very remarkable effusions ; but we still think, as we said in 1835, that " the extent of his genius and the poetical rank he is likely to attain hereafter are points not easily determined." Time and study could have given him more solid matter and a more condensed and vigorous diction ; but a persistence in the habit of fluent composition, on any thing that struck him at the time, might have rendered the majority of his subjects common, and confirmed a tendency in his style to substitute excitement for strength. That he had genius there can be no question ; but it would have required a patient cultivation to have placed him on the same level as BURNS, if that approximation were possible.

The prominent features of Nicores poetry are humour and pathos ; but perhaps a very rigorous analysis might discover that the bitterness of the satirist was his essential characteristic. It strikes us that both his humour and his pathos are generally presented with more effect when some latent attack upon the evils or abuses of society is intended. Such is the following specimen of his latter productions.

WE ARE LOWLY.

We are lowly—very lowly, Misfortune is our crime; We have been trodden under foot From all recorded time.

A yoke upon our necks is laid, A burden to endure ;

To suffer is our legacy—

The portion of the poor!

We are lowly—very lowly, And scorned from day to day ; Yet we have something of our own Power cannot take away.

By tyrants we are toiled to death—

By cold and hunger killed;

But peace is in our hearts—it speaks

Of duties all fulfilled !

We are lowly—very lowly, Nor house nor land have we; But there's a heritage for us While we have eyes to see.

They cannot hide the lovely stars,

Words in creation's book, Although they hold their fields and lanes Corrupted by our look!

We are lowly—very lowly, And yet the fairest flowers That by the wayside raise their eyes, Thank God they still are ours! Ours is the streamlet's mellow voice, And ours the common dew ; We still dare gaze on hill and plain, And field and meadow too 1 We are lowly—very lowly; But when the cheerful spring Comes forth with flowers upon her feet To hear the tbrostle sing, Although we dare not seek the shade Where haunt the forest-deer-

The waving leaves we still can see,

The hymning birds can hear!

We are lowly—very lowly : Our hedgerow-paths are gone, Where woodbines laid their fairy hands The hawthorn's breast upon. Yet slender mercies still are left, And Heaven doth endure, And hears the prayers that upward rise From the afflicted poor!