Saturday, 21 April 2012

Thomas Miller


Thomas Miller (31 August 1807 – 24 October 1874), poet and novelist, was born in Gainsborough, the son of George Miller, an unsuccessful wharfinger and ship-owner who deserted his wife and two sons in 1810. Thomas grew up in Sailors Alley, and one of his childhood friends was the future journalist Thomas Cooper. Miller found work as a ploughboy, then as a shoemaker’s apprentice, but was released from his indentures when he threw ‘an iron instrument’ at his vicious and tyrannical master. He was apprenticed as a basket-maker to his stepfather and, when he had done his time, he moved to Nottingham in 1831 to set up his own basket-making business. Here he published his first writings Songs of the Sea Nymphs (1832). Going to London he was befriended by Lady Blessington and Samuel Rogers, and for a time engaged in business as a bookseller, but was unsuccessful and devoted himself exclusively to literature, producing over 40 volumes, including several novels, e.g., Royston Gower (1838), Gideon Giles the Roper, and Rural Sketches. In his stories he successfully delineated rural characters and scenes.

Although he had some success with patronage, he was often in financial need, and appealed directly to Charles Dickens for assistance in 1851. Dickens declined and wrote to his friend Bulwer Lytton of Miller; 'I fear he has mistaken his vocation'.
Miller died at his home at New Street, Kennington, on 24 October.
One of the most representative poems by Miller is 'Evening':

The day is past, the sun is set,

And the white stars are in the sky;
While the long grass with dew is wet,
And through the air the bats now fly.

The lambs have now lain down to sleep,
The birds have long since sought their nests;
The air is still; and dark, and deep
On the hill side the old wood rests.

Yet of the dark I have no fear,
But feel as safe as when 'tis light;
For I know God is with me there,
And He will guard me through the night.

For God is by me when I pray,
And when I close mine eyes to sleep,
I know that He will with me stay,
And will all night watch by me keep.

For He who rules the stars and sea,
Who makes the grass and trees to grow.
Will look on a poor child like me,
When on my knees I to Him bow.

He holds all things in His right hand,
The rich, the poor, the great, the small;
When we sleep, or sit, or stand,
He is with us, for He loves us all.