end Mr Johnstone.
His case was hopeless; after lingering a short period in a state of
entire prostration, he departed this life in December 1837, in his
twenty-fourth year. His remains, attended by a numerous assemblage, were
consigned to the churchyard of North Leith.

Possessed of strong poetical genius, Robert Nicoll has attained a
conspicuous and honoured niche in the temple of the national minstrelsy.
Several of his songs, especially "Bonnie Bessie Lee" and "Orde Braes,"
have obtained an equal popularity with the best songs of Burns. Since
the period of his death, four different editions of his "Poems" have
been called for. The work has latterly been published by the Messrs
Blackie of Glasgow in a handsome form, prefaced by an interesting
memoir. Nicoll's strain is eminently smooth and simple; and, though many
of his lyrics published after his decease had not the benefit of his
revision, he never falls into mediocrity. Of extensive sympathies, he
portrays the loves, hopes, and fears of the human heart; while he
depicts nature only in her loveliness. His sentiments breathe a devoted
and simple piety, the index of an unblemished life. In person Nicoll was
rather above the middle height, with a slight stoop. His countenance,
which was of a sanguine complexion, was thoughtful and pleasing; his
eyes were of a deep blue, and his hair dark brown. In society he was
modest and unobtrusive, but was firm and uncompromising in the
maintenance of his opinions. His political views were founded on the
belief that the industrial classes had suffered oppression from the
aristocracy. The solace of his hours of leisure were the songs and music
of his country. He married shortly prior to his decease, but was not
long survived by his widow. A monument to his memory, towards which
nearly L100 has lately been subscribed, is about to be erected on the
Orde Braes, in his native parish.

ORDE BRAES.

There 's nae hame like the hame o' youth,
Nae ither spot sae fair;
Nae ither faces look sae kind
As the smilin' faces there.
An' I ha'e sat by mony streams,
Ha'e travell'd mony ways;
But the fairest spot on the earth to me
Is on bonnie Orde Braes.

An ell-lang wee thing then I ran
Wi' the ither neeber bairns,
To pu' the hazel's shining nuts,
An' to wander 'mang the ferns;
An' to feast on the bramble-berries brown,
An' gather the glossy slaes,
By the bur