In the month on February, 1832, a few lines appeared in the poet's corner of the "Nottingham Journal," with the preface to the following effect: "We have been much pleased by the perusal of a MS. Poem by Thomas MILLER, a journeyman basket-maker, residing in Nottingham. The author exhibits another striking proof of the manner in which true poetic genius is capable of triumphing over the greatest difficulties. Thomas MILLER has had no opportunity of enjoying those advantages which education and much leisure can afford; still his untutored spirit has poured forth its feelings in the most natural strains, and has embodied its conceptions in poetry of a truly pleasing character."

Who penned these patronising lines is now a matter of little import; but who Thomas MILLER is the whole world of letters knows well. He has ventured into almost every department of literature, and has adorned them all. Nowhere, save in the works of Miss METFORD and the HOWITTS, do we find such delineations of the rural scenery and character of old England as in the volumes of MILLER; he has invested in dark annals of ancient times with all the freshness and vivacity of a romance; to our biographic literature he has made welcome contributions, his novels are true to English nature and life; while his poetry combines the rich luxuriance of SPENSER with a musical depth which has commended them to the favor of the present generation.

Thomas MILLER is not a native of Nottingham. He merely came hither to pursue his occupation of a basket-maker, and he was still young when he set out for London to commence author. His literary acquaintances while he lived in the lace metropolis were the BAILEYS, the HOWITTS, HICLIN, The Old Sailor, HALL, and poor MILLHOUSE. At this time Clifton Grove was his favorite walk, which he considered the most attractive in the neighbourhood, abounding as it does in rural beauties.

Scattered throughout his works - and there is a noble array of volumes bearing testimony to his fertility and his habits of industry - we can perceive in many a page pictures of the scenery and people of Nottingham and its neighbourhood. The scene of his novel "Royston Gower" is laid at Nottingham and in the forest of Sherwood. The old castle is a prominent feature in this novel. Then he brings Gideon Giles to Nottingham in his work bearing that name, and makes him spend the evening at "mine host's" of the Old Ship, in Pelham street.

Many a merry night has the novelist spent in the cosy cabin of that old house, surrounded by a circle of choice spirits, including the worthy landlord, old Nathaniel WARREN, one of the truest-hearted men who ever gave the genuine "Derbyshire grip." And MILLER's beautiful poem of "The Passing Bell" was written, as he himself says, "on Blue-bell hill, near Nottingham, on Whitsuntide, many, many years ago."

MILLER lived off Coalpit lane, in the Meadow platts, and there, in his humble brick-floored dwelling - with a wife and family around him - he composed many poems. There his friends frequently found him in his poetical moods reading Swedenborg for the sake of the imagery, while he lent a helping hand to some culinary operation progressing at the kitchen fire. He had a shop in Swann's yard, Long row; and even after he had published his first volume it was his wont to have a stall in the market place on market days.

This stall was generally planted at the corner of the Exchange towards the South parade, very near to the shop of Messrs. PEARSON, nurserymen, and immediately under the shadow of the gas lamp. There he used to stand himself on the Saturdays, and of a verity no more poetical basket-maker (we mean in aspect as well as reality) was ever seen in the noble market-place of Nottingham. With a tasteful cap, specially mounted for the occasion, and a gentle cigar between his lips, he paced before his stall, from time to time withdrawing the fragrant Havannah, and addressing a melodious observation to some passing beauty. "Won't you have a basket, my dear?" or, to the mother with a child, "Now do buy a basket for the sweet little thing." Or, if he had a friend by his side, then would he recite in a subdued musical tone, favorite passages from the poets - ceasing only when, to the dismay of the delighted listener, some one stepped out of the busy stream of by-passers to purchase a basket from the nicely arranged group.

At this stall young HALL, "the Quaker boy at he 'Mercury' office, " frequently went to school of a Saturday afternoon. And a capital school it was, too, fitted at once to fan the poetical flame and to demolish the starched fabric of cut-and-dry quakerism. To SPENCER those Saturday afternoons were truly the light of the week. Then would he sally forth to Sneinton, and have a walk into the country with MILLHOUSE. Returning to the town, he never missed the basket stall at the Exchange with its genial keeper, who was never tired of repeating and enforcing the chief beauties of the great poets; next came the Artisans' Library, and a word or two with some of the hard-headed youths who were there waging war with ignorance; the too short day closing not unfrequently with a gathering of the glorious galaxy of minstrels at Richard HOWITT's, where, in addition to the Nottingham worthies, Samuel PLUMBE from Carlton was always a welcome visiter.

Not long after the publication of his "Songs of the Sea Nymphs" MILLER departed for London, where, after surmounting difficulties enough to damp and discourage a less ardent spirit, he place himself in a position to live genteelly on the fruits of his pen. On the strength of his success he even became a publisher; but literary men are not generally successful in selling books, and he formed no exception to the rule.

Like Ebenezer ELLIOTT, who wished people to think he had been a working cutler, MILLER has tried to delude the innocent reader into the idea that he had really gone with the gipsies, which, if is almost needless for us to say, is merely a poetical fiction,