him the slightest degree of blame. At the same time she intreated them, with the greatest earnestness, that no use might be made of a secret which she wished to have carried with her to the grave. This was a hard task imposed upon her parents. They felt equally with herself the extreme delicacy of making the disclosure; but, on the other hand, they contemplated nothing but the probable loss of their child; an event, the bare apprehension of which filled their minds with the bitterest anguish. After many anxious consultations, Mr Coventry determined, unknown to any but his wife, to pay a visit to William, and ascertain his sentiments with regard to his daughter. Upon his arrival at Edinburgh, he found that his friend had departed for the manse of B, with which he had been recently presented. This event, which, in other circumstances, would have given him the liveliest pleasure, awakened on this occasion emotions of a contrary nature, as he feared it would make his now reverend friend more elevated in his notions, and consequently more averse to an union with his daughter. He did not, however, on that account, conceal the real object of his journey, or endeavour to accomplish his purpose by stratagem or deceit. He candidly disclosed his daughter's situation and sentiments, requesting of his friend that he would open to him his mind with equal candour; and added, that although he held wealth to be an improper motive in marriage, and hoped that his daughter did not require such a recommendation, that, in the event of this union, whatever he possessed would be liberally shared with him. On hearing of the situation of Miss Coventry, William became penetrated with the deepest remorse; and being aware that his affection for her was rather stifled than estranged, he declared his willingness to make her his wife. These words operated like a charm upon the drooping spirits of the father; who embraced his friend with ardour, and besought him immediately to accompany him home, that they might lose no time in making a communication, which he fondly hoped would have a similar effect upon the spirits of his daughter. They departed accordingly together, indulging in the pleasing hope that all would yet be well; but on their arrival at Daisy bank, they were seriously alarmed to hear that Miss Coventry had been considerably worse since her father left home. She was now entirely confined to her chamber, and seemed to care for nothing so much as solitude, and an exemption from the trouble of talking. As soon as she was informed of the arrival of their visitor, she suspected he had been sent for, and therefore refused to see him; but upon being assured by her mother, who found deceit in this instance indispensible, that his visit was voluntary and accidental, she at last consented to give him an interview. On entering the room, which had formerly been the family parlour, William was forcibly struck with the contrast it exhibited. Every object seemed to swim before his sight, and it was some moments before he discovered Miss Coventry, who reclined upon a sofa at the farther end of the room. He advanced with a beating heart, and grasped the burning hand that was extended to meet him. He pressed it to his lips and wept, and muttered something incoherent of forgiveness and love. He looked doubtingly on Mary's face for an answerbut her eye darted no reproach, and her lips uttered no reflection. A faint blush, that at this moment overspread her cheek, seemed a token of returning strength, and inspired him with confidence and hope. It was the last effort of nature-and ere the blood could return to its fountain, that fountain had closed for ever. Death approached his victim under the disguise of sleep, and appeared divested of his usual pains and terrors. William retired from this scene of unutterable anguish, and for a long period was overwhelmed with the deepest melancholy and remorse. But time gradually softened and subdued his sorrow, and I trust, perfected his repentance. He is since married and wealthy, and is regarded by the world as an individual eminently respectable and happy. But, amidst all his comforts, there are moments when he would exchange his identity with the meanest slave that breathes, and regards himself as the murderer of Mary Coventry.. J. M'D. Dumfries, September 1817, SOME ACCOUNT OF COLONEL WILLIAM CLELAND, WITH EXTRACTS FROM HIS POEMS, AND A NARRATIVE OF THE CONFLICT AT DUNKELD, IN WHICH HE FELL. IT is somewhat remarkable, that Cleland, though one of the most gallant leaders of the oppressed Covenanters, and highly distinguished in his own time for attachment to the patriotic cause, which he zealously and daringly defended both by his sword and his pen-should only be now known to the public by a few brief and casual notices. Most of the other Whig champions of that period, whether clerical or military-from the devout and enthusiastic Cameron, to the dark and desperate Balfour of Burley-have found some friendly historian to record their achievements and their sufferings. But of Cleland's biography, the few scattered vestiges still existing (or at least such as we have been able, after some search, to discover) may be comprised in a few sentences. Of his family and lineage nothing is recorded. The only notice we find of his connexions, occurs in a proclamation issued against the insurgent Covenanters immediately after their defeat at Bothwell-Bridge, June 1679. This document, after specifying Robert Hamilton, John Balfour of Kinloch, and others of the principal leaders, mentions, James and William Clelands, brethren-in-law to John Haddoway, merchant in Douglas.' (See Wodrow, Vol II. appendix, p. 27.) Of James Cleland no further notice appears. William first distinguished himself at the conflict of Drumclog or Loudon Hill, where he acted as an officer of foot. It seems probable that he had previously acquired some degree of influence among the non-conformists, whether from rank, ability, or enthusiasm, since he was chosen at so early an age to act as one of their commanders in that desperate emergency; for he had then scarcely reached his eighteenth year,-as will be observed from the subjoined Narrative, where he is stated to have been at the time he fell, within twentyeight years of age.' In his volume of Poems, composed upon Various Occasions,' which we shall immediately refer to more particularly, the lines, entitled, Hollo my Fancie,' are said to have been written by him the last year he was at the College, not then fully eighteen years of age. His 'Mock Poem upon the expedition of the Highland Host,' we should judge from internal evidence to have been written about the same period, namely, in the interval between the winter of 1678, when the Highlanders were brought down upon the country, and the insurrection of the Whigs in May 1679. Perhaps the spirit and zeal displayed in these effusions might recommend the author to the respect and confidence of the Cameronian leaders, many of whom were certainly neither deficient in learning nor polite accomplishments, though it has been but too much the fashion since to speak of them as mere illiterate, vulgar, and ferocious enthusiasts. On the unfortunate day of Bothwell-Bridge, Cleland held the rank of captain, as is commemorated by Howie. (Sec Faithful Contendings, page 413.) Whether he made his escape beyond seas after being denounced for his appearance at Drumclog and Bothwell, or continued to lurk, with others of the proscribed and intercommuned Covenanters, among the fastnesses of his native country, we have not been able to ascertain; but we find, from a passage in Wodrow, (Vol. II. p. 362.) that he was in Scotland in 1685, 'being then under hiding among the wilds of Lanark and Ayr shires. Captain John Campbell of Over Welwood, who had some time before escaped from the iron-house in the Canongate,' after skulking for a while among the hills and moors of that wild district, accidentally met with Cleland, about the time when Argyle was coming in,' and spent most of the summer with him and his companions, John Fullerton, Robert Langlands, George Barclay, and Alexander Peden, and met with many wonderful deliverances.' As we hear nothing more of Cleland till after the Revolution, it seems likely that he effected his escape to the Continent, after the failure of Argyle's ill-conducted enterprise, when the only hopes of the oppressed reverted to Holland. allusion is perhaps made to his adventures abroad, in one of his smaller picces, entitled, Some Lines made by him upon the observation of the vanity of worldly honours, after he had been at several princes' courts.' An After the Revolution he was ap pointed lieutenant-colonel of the Earl of Angus regiment, called the Cameronian regiment, from being chiefly composed of levies raised among that staunch and zealous sect; and shortly after, in August 1680, he was killed at the head of this corps, while they manfully and successfully defended the church-yard of Dunkeld against a superior force of Highlanders. Of this well-fought and desperate conflict, a minute and accurate account is given in the subjoined Narrative, with which we have been furnished from a private repository, and which seems to have been the authentic official account of the affair then issued to the public. In a MS. account of this fight, written by one of the officers engaged in it, (which we have seen in another private collection, and which agrees in every material point with that subjoined) the force which came down under the Jacobite general, Cannan, to attack the Cameronians in the church-yard, is described as consisting of "3 troops of horse-a battalion of foot armed wt. helmit and brese, sword and targe-then a battalion of firelocks-then a 3d battalion with 4 ledder cannons;" which, with some other troops also brought down, are said to have amounted altogether to about 4000 men. Of Cleland's personal character it is not possible to form any very accurate estimate, from the little we know of his history, or even from his works, which almost entirely consist of scoffing or indignant satires against the sycophantish prelates and savage persecutors who had proscribed his friends and ruined his country. The late Dr Leyden had a great-grandfather, who was a soldier, or non-commissioned officer, in the Cameronian regimentand he used to mention a tradition, that Cleland's gayety of manners was rather offensive to the more austere part of his followers. He appears to have been a man of a strong mind and steady principles, with perhaps no small portion of the acrimony and coarseness of those evil times infused into a disposition naturally generous and liberal. He was, what perhaps some may suppose extraordinary for the times and transactions in which he lived and acted-heroic, without intolerance; and a staunch Covenanter, without being fanatical. VOL. I. Colonel Cleland was the father of William Cleland, Esq. one of the Commissioners of the Customs in Scotland, and author of the Prefatory Letter to the Dunciad. This person is also mentioned by some of the annotators on Pope, as having been the supposed original of Will Honeycomb. He died in 1741, leaving a son, who, falling into utter licentiousness and extreme poverty, prostituted his pen to the composition of indecent and infamous works. There is a story of some English peer having allowed this wretched man a pension, on the express condition that he should never more prostitute his talents to such purposes-Cleland having alleged that want had reduced him to this deplorable resource. It is said to have been a law-lord who thus bought him off from the service of immorality, and that his attention was excited towards him by a prosecution on the above account. com Colonel Cleland's Poetical Works were published in 1697, a few years after his death. They are comprised in a small duodecimo volume, which is very scarce, and has never been reprinted. It commences with a wild rhapsody, entitled, Hollo, my Fancie,' which, in the opinion of a very c petent judge, displays considerable imagination.* This is followed by A Mock Poem upon the Expedition of the Highland Host, who came to destroy the Western Shires in Winter 1678. It seems to be a rough, and probably a juvenile, imitation of Hudibras. It is of considerable length, and begins as follows: "When Saturn shakes his frostie feathers; When Russia garments are rough leathers; Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. ii. p. 69, Comets raign'd above the city, Yea stand and serve their foot-men's brother. He afterwards proceeds to describe this famous Host' with very considerable force and humour; and lashes the savage Highlanders, and their more detestable employers, with much well-merited and well-directed satire ; though it must be allowed that the style of this and his other mock poems too frequently descends to the low scurrility and vulgar doggerel so freely indulged in by the writers of that age. The following passages will serve to convey some idea of his powers of observation and characteristic description: "Some might have judg'd they were the creatures Call'd Selfies, whose customes and features Paracelsus doeth discry In his Occult Philosophy, Or Faunes, or Brownies, if ye will, Are influenced by the skies; or loose their doublet when they're hang'd. * those who were their chief commanders, uch who bore the pirnie standarts; Who led the van and drove the rear, With durk, and snap-work, and snuff-mill, She'll durk her neighbour d'er the boord, with a few anecdotes, much in the He then details (and illustrates manner of the prose article on the same subject, inserted in the first Number of our Miscellany) the intolerable oppression and wanton mischief inflicted upon the defenceless inhabitants by Than even Frenchmen under Marie, They durk our tenants, shames our wives→→ * They sell our tongs for locks of snuff: We dare not hinder them for durking: The next poem of any length, and the one indeed which occupies by far the greater part of this volume, is entitled, " Effigies Clericorum; or, a Mock Poem on the Clergy, when they met to consult about taking the Test, in the year 1681." Of this, as of the one we have just quoted, it would be equally difficult and unprofitable to attempt any analysis: Many of the political allusions have now become doubtful or unintelligible; and though the writer's sentiments are often strongly and pointedly expressed, yet we must own that his two principal poems appear to be altogether extremely desultory and confused, and exhibit little appearance of having ever undergone much correction, or of having been intended for any other than mere temporary purposes. The following curious passage seems to indicate the place of the author's nativity, and also refers to the opinion still commonly entertained by the Scottish peasantry, respecting the disappearance of their old visitors, the Fairies. "No Muse's help I will implore, * "I am very apt to think For there and several other places, When old John Knox and other some Mr Scott, quoting another poem of Cleland's, observes," His anti-monarchical principles seem to break out in the following lines; "Fain would I know (if beasts have any reason) Iffalcons killing eagles do commit a treason.” We do not understand, however, that his political opinions were by any means those of a republican, or that he went beyond the principles maintained by all the staunch and true Whigs of his time; and indeed to us (who account ourselves quite moderate in politics) the sentiment contained in the following lines appears perfectly sound, though strongly, and perhaps rather roughly, expressed : "Since it a good work is reputed Among the smaller poems there is one which reminds us successfully (and that is saying a great deal) of some of the more broad and careless effusions of Swift. It is introduced by the following notice : "The Popish party, after the defeat of Monmouth and Argyle, published an insulting ballad, to the tune of Hey Boyes up go we; which coming to the hands of Lieutenant-Col. Cleland, he made the second part to the same tune and strain, holding forth the language of their wayes. Anno 1685. "Now down with the confounded Whiggs, Let Loyaltie take place; Let Hell possess their damn'd intrigues, And whoores and rogues go free, Unto our Holy Father, His sacred maxims without doubt And favours Monarchie, And can with all our sins dispense; So Hey Boyes up go we. There we shall ramble at our ease, There's some who do for Vertue plead And Glory do miscarry, |