AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN AYRSHIRE POET.

Otago Witness, Issue 2744, 17 October 1906, Page 89

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN AYRSHIRE POET.

ANECDOTES OF FAMOUS SCOTS

(From the Scotsman. ) An interesting book of poetry and autobiography has been recently published by Messrs Ohphant, Anderson, and Ferrier, Edinburgh. It contains the literary work and the life history of Mr A. B. Todd, a native of Ayrshire, and long resident in

Cummock, now an octogenarian, but still an active old man. If his narrative reveals that Mr Todd i.9 proud of anything, it is of his peasant origin and upbringing. With little educational advantages, he studied hard privately, read what he could get, and made himself a cultured man and a fluent writer both in verse amd prose. His muse is rural and somewhat melancholy — or, at least, serious. The reflective side of his nature is apparently superior to the emotional ; and the amourists will not find in him their poet. It is rather interesting to note that Mr Todd can hardly be called a disciple of Burns, for whom, nevertheless, he entertained a deep admiration ; and his poetry belongs rather to tho earlier eighteenth century school. In the interesting narrative of his life there are" many passages which widen out into a broader stream than personal records, and in these the reader will find allusions of absorbing interest. In an aside, for example, on eighteenth' century life in Scotland, Mr Todd describes the miserable death of that hypocritical scoundrel, the "Holy Willie" of Buins's imperishable satirical poem. The passage is as follows: — Death of " Holt Willie." TJiat Scotland has still a noble peasantry none who, like myself, have been brought up with and mingled among them will deny. But I question greatly if in general her peasantry now are equal to those of the eighteenth century for warmth of heart, simplicity of manners, undeviating truth, patriotism, and p ; ety. Of course, they were not all such" ; for there were foul hypocrites of the hateful "Holy Willie" type among them, who were blots upon the fair face of God's earth. And here I may say that this person (William Fisher) was well known to both my father and mother ; and my father — good Cameronian that he was — used to laugh immoderately at- the "Holy Willies Prayer" of Burns, and would say that, though it was "gey rough," it was as true a picture of the man as any given in the chronicles of Judah and Israel. Most people know that this canting, tippling creature was drowned in a ditch when going homo intoxicated from a Mauchline fair in the year 1809, but few are now likely to know that my own father was one of those who got his body entangled among the thorns, in a raging torrent, about 2 o'clock on the following morning, his head down and his feet up, and only seen, with the water gushing over him, for there had been a great storm of wind and rain during the night. Burns Never Propane. Mr Todd makes a gallant attempt to rehabilitate the character of Burns ; and as he had conversed with those who knew Burns intimately, the evidence which he adduces must be considered of great weight. He says : — My father knew Burns well, being only nine years his junior, though I do not think they had very much in common. I am old enough to have known when a lad several other peasant farmers who were born even before Burns, and who knew him well. None of them, I havo often heard them say, ever heard him utter an oath, saw him angry, or saw him intoxicated. The 'ate Mr Thomas Aird, a poet of lofty genius and a rtobleminded man, wiho knew and talked with many men who were well acquainted with Burns, once told me that there could be no doubt that "the character of poor Robin had been greatly and most unjustly maligned by the people of Dumfries as an excuse for their neglect of him, and that beyond all doubt many evil things were most unjustly laid to his charge.' But— what will be thought more remarkable still — I have heard my mother relate that when at Mossgiel Bums would occasionally como with two horses and carts for lime, and how he and my grandfather would have many a goodnaturad argument on religious subjects, particularly on the Socinian views set forth in an ess>ay published by the Rev. Mr M'Gill, of Ayr, on whose &ide Burns ranked himself, thoueh, as my mother said, my grandfather thought, very much for the 6. ike of argument. Profl-ssou Buckie Amoxc; Covkxantkrs. In a chapter on "People I Have Met," Mr Tcdd gives an interesting vignette portrait of Professor Blacki-e. The professor was the guest of Mr Todd on tho occasion of tho unveiling of a monument to Peden, the historian of the Covenanters. Describing the professor as he eat by his hearth, Mr Todd says: — At night we sat late talking of many things, but mostly of books and their authors ; nor could he be persuaded to go early to bed, notwithstanding the fatiguing day he had had, and that he was now patt the far four-score years. And when at length he did con.-enfc to go to his bedroom, and Mrs Tcdd told him to ring if anything went wrong with him, he haid briskly, "What will go wrong with me? I never lost- half an horn's ; 6leep with indigestion in my life I" Next day we drove to the grave of brave and sturdy Richard Cameron '"in the lone and wild Airemass," and, as we crossed on foot, the moor of nearly a mile in width, which lay between tho •highway and the monument, and which ho did with the agility of a man of 25, he k>ld me the now well-known &tory of his respect for the picturesmie plaid which he generally wore round his shoulders. When he received his firfct professor- ' *l^ii. he said, he vrafi bare of money, yet

Mrs Blackie (his noble wife, of whom lie never spoke so warmly) would have him get a new black coat." This, he said, he could ill afford, but got her to wrap her pretty plaid round his shoulder.", which hid the bareness of the coat he had, giving him «t the same time a picturesque appearance, and which he wore, and which he said "made him decent till money came in."

When we reached the monument on the eastern edge of the "reat morass he uncovered his her.d. and, going round it, he read the inscription, and I described to him the now nearly effaced figures of a hand holding a sword, and an ops* Bible, acioss which could once ie read "Tho Word of God." Vaulting tip on to ho breast-high, basement of the monument, he asked the names of, and I described to him, the localities within view; and, still uncovered and with his L>cc turned towords the lofty Cairntable, lie asked me if I could repeat James Hislop's pceni, "The Cameronian Dream," and to do so if I could.

This I was able to do. the grand old man standing with closed eyes and face raised upwards, as if in rapt calm and deep devotion. "A grand poem, a noble flight of piety ond patriotism," he exclaimed at the close. What a picture that would have been I have often thought; we two alone there with tho dead, standing on the basement of the monument, the profes-sor's long white locks waving in tho li^ht wind which -^wandered over that lonely wilderness, with the brightest of July suns f-hining down upon us.