it".

"I give theft Books
for the fauindin^ of a. College, in this Colony'J

Bought with the income
ofthe
John T. Norton Fund
I'm 
¦ "¦¦'¦¦'¦¦¦^^aa^g  tm  I mill, »Ba

THE LIFE

OF

PHILIP SKELTON

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
LONDON EDINBURGH GLASGOW NEW YORK
TORONTO MELBOURNE BOMBAY
HUMPHREY MILFORD M.A.
PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY

THE LIFE
OF
PHILIP SKELTON
BY
SAMUEL B U R D Y, A . B.
REPRINTED FROM THE EDITION OF
1792 WITH AN INTRODUCTION
BY
NORMAN MOORE

OXFORD
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS
MDCCCCXIV

INTRODUCTION.
It is natural in considering a book descriptive
ofthe North of Ireland and the subject of which
is the biography of one native of that region by
another, to go back to the beginning of history
and to reflect that Ulster has been a home of
literature from very early times and has produced
a long series of men of letters during fourteen
centuries. The reflection is profitable since litera
ture is a bond which tends to draw men together
for their good, and in its enjoyment to lead them
to feel united in admiration of the books which are
part of their inheritance. It is not necessary to
explain how each piece or kind of literature is
related to what has gone before it, and writers are
often unconscious of influences derived from the
country in which they were born or brought up.
Skelton's poem which begins :
To God, ye choir above, begin
A hymn so loud and strong
That all the universe may hear
And join the grateful song.

vi INTRODUCTION.
seems, when carefully studied, to indicate that he
had read the hymn of St. Columba :
Altus prositor, vetustus dierum et ingenitus,
perhaps the oldest extant composition by an
Ultonian author.
It was a scribe of Ulster, Ferdomnach, who
wrote a great part of the Book of Armagh in the
first half of the ninth century. Where the art of
writing was so well developed literary composition
was certainly practised, and the manuscript shows
that this was in the vernacular as well as in Latin.
Cormacan, son of Maelbrighde, wrote a famous
lay about the middle of the tenth century on the
march round Ireland in 942 of Muircheartach, son
of Niall glundubh, who started from his own
stronghold of Ailech near Derry, crossed the Ban
into the lesser Ulster, marched south as far as
the fertile plains round Cashel, and thence to
Cenncoradh on the Shannon, the chief fortress of
the king of Thomond, returning home through
Bearnas mor in Tirconnell to Ailech, where
Ceallachan, king of Cashel, and Conchobar, son of
the king of Connaught, and others, his hostages for
the payment of tribute, remained while great feasts
celebrated the triumph of Muircheartach.
The poem of Gillabrighde MacConmidhe on
the death of Brian O'Neill at the battle of Down
in 1260 carries on the series of the literary

INTRODUCTION. vii
monuments of Ulster in the original language.
Manus O'Donnell's life of St. Columcille, the
northern writers in the poetic controversy known
as "the Contention of the Bards 'V Lughaidh
O'Clery's life of Aodh ruadh O'Donnell, and the
passages in which the O' Clerys relate the events of
their own times in the chronicle generally known
as the Annals of the Four Masters, with many
other writers of verse and prose, continue the
literature of Ulster to the first quarter of the
seventeenth century.
At the time when the O' Clerys were writing,
two languages little known there before established
themselves in Ulster, the English of England and
the allied tongue of the Lowlands of Scotland.
The former, as was natural, so completely prevailed
that the influence of the latter is often forgotten.
A familiar phrase used in the Irish-speaking parts
of Ulster well into the reign of Queen Victoria
illustrates the linguistic view of the original in
habitants. When a man nearly ignorant of the
Teutonic dialects was spoken to in English he
always replied, " Na Scotch ". If his studies had
gone a less way still, he said, " Ni fhil oen fhocal
bearla ", " Not one word of dialect ".
No great works were produced in Ireland in the
language of the Lowlands of Scotland, but its
influence upon the writings of those who wrote
' lomarbhagh na bhillighe.

viii INTRODUCTION.
English in Ulster is easily traced and gives a dis
tinct character to many of the books produced
between the time of the Plantation and that of the
last Great Famine. These books, though written
by men whose ancestors a few generations back
came from Scotland, France, or England, show a
great regard for Ulster, which the authors had
made their country.
James Stuart, whose Historical Memoirs of the Ciiy
of Armagh was printed at Newry in 1 8 1 9 and his
poems at Belfast in 18 11, deserves a high place
amongst these writers. His prose work is not a
mere local account of Armagh, but is a general
history of Ireland in relation to the primatial city
written with great affection for the subject and
knowledge of it. His love for the ancient history
of the country and regard for its heroic characters
are shown in many passages of his prose and in his
poem of " Morna's Hill ", which relates the death
of Niall Caille, king of Ireland, on the bank of
the river Callan near Armagh in a.d. 846.
John Graham, curate of Lifford in the Estab
lished Church, was an historical writer of less
impartiality than Stuart, but whose Derriana,
printed at Londonderry in 1823, and other histori
cal works deserve to be studied as part of the
literature of Ulster as well as because they contain
a large collection of contemporary accounts of
events and illustrations of the feelings of the time.

INTRODUCTION. ix
Graham, like Stuart, wrote verse as well as prose,
and though he often sank to the level of a street
ballad, one ofhis stanzas at least expressed exactly
a feeling prevalent among many of the inhabitants
of Londonderry and Myroe :
Full many a long wild winter's night,
And sultry summer's day.
Are passed and gone since James took flight,
From Derry's walls away :
Cold are the hands that clos'd that gate
Against the wily foe,
But here to time's remotest date
Their spirit still shall glow.
When the time arrives in Ireland, as it already
has in Scotland, that the representatives of each
side in the national contests of the past can take
pride in the great deeds of their opponents, then
Graham's books will perhaps be read again with
interest and with respect.
The Statistical Survey of the County of Londonderry,
by the Rev. G. Vaughan Sampson, a work con
taining a great deal of information learnedly stated,
has a section on the
" Use of the English language.
With regard to language, the Irish is now little
spoken, except in the mountainous and retired
parts. In the low country, something like the
Scotch dialect is spoken, but whether this dialect
may be called English, I shall not decide. Much

X IXTRODUCTIOX.
as I esteem my countrymen, I cannot flatter them
by reporting their mode of speech, as perfectly
reconcileable to the principles either of melody or
grammar. Among their phrases, some are defective, and
others extremely pithy, or significant. Thus it is
usual, when you ask, ' What news .'' ' the reply is,
' nothing strange, but what 's common '. On the
other hand, when a farmer has substance joined to
industry, he is said ^ to have a way in him '. Is not
this a metaphor of nautical experience !
I shall not dwell longer on these topics, though
I must avow my opinion, that nothing can be
more interesting to the moral or natural historian."
The author himself uses many words unfamiliar
to an English reader. Misks'^ are preferable,whether
for pasture or tillage, to druims.^ Straas'^ and hoames ''
are affected by the river Moyola. An improve
ment " greatly required is that of draining and
enclosing those tracts of low and wet bottoms,
which at present, under the description of rough
outsport, are poached all winter by the hoof, and
consequently in summer yield little to the bite of
cattle".^ Made roads are not everywhere to be
found, but " passing by the cromlech of Slaghmanus
there is a slide-car rut-vjay ¦' to Listress ". Potatoes
were kibbed in '' over ridges " covered with lime and
^ Sampson, Surrey of Londonderry, p. 19.
^ Ibid. p. 40. •' Ibid. p. 4I. * Ibid. p. 449.
' Ibid. p. 58. '¦ Ibid. p. 131.

INTRODUCTION. xi
earth". The Rev. Mr. Torrens informed Mr.
Sampson that he had tried lime " in composts made
of scammed^ bog, the ashes and fresh peat being
added together with it". Countrymen stop at
a small public-house, "Allured by the whiskey, they
stop for hours, leaving the poor patient garron to
bite at the thatch, or at his own suggaun ".^
Mr. Sampson has considerable powers of descrip
tion, and one example will show how he was
affected by the scenery of his district :
" All these sunk terraces have the plane of their
strata reclined against the original mountain ; that
is to say, in sinking, their bases have been shoved
beyond their perpendiculars. From this angularity
of the strata arises a diversity of picture singularly
delightful. It was a fine evening, when I made
these observations; the sun was declined to the
west, gilding the verges of the Innishowen range
beyond Lough Foyle ; the rays were shot almost
horizontally between the sublime precipices and the
fallen masses. Benyevenagh, with all his outline,
seemed projected on the mellow sky. Ruined
spires, fallen castles, with a thousand Imaginary
similitudes, delighted, pressed, and overawed the
contemplative mind."
It would be easy to mention other writers of
Ulster, but this is not the place to attempt a history
ofthem, and these examples are sufficient to show
the variety of literature which is to be found there,
1 Ibid. p. 172. ^ Ibid. p. 203.

xii INTRODUCTION.
among- which are few books better worth reading
than Samuel Burdy's Life of Philip Skelton. Lord
M;icaulay praised it to Whitwell Elwin as a
delightful biography and an admirable picture of
the life of Its period In Ireland. The Reverend
Doctor William Reeves,' whose erudition and taste
arc shown In his edition of Adamnan's Lite of
St. Columba, In that of Primate Colton's Visitation,
In his Antiquities of Down, Connor and Dromore,
and In many lesser works, had visited the places of
Skelton's preferments and at one time thought of
reprinting Burdy's book, but failed to find much In
relation to Its author except the confirmation of the
dates of Burdy's academic and professional careers
and oftwo leases granted by him, one when curate
ot Ardglass on September 24, 1799, to James
Gardner of Dromore, and the other when of
Cloughey in the parish of Kilcllef to Peter
Bra-inan, brogue-maker, on July 6, 1809.
Burdy was descended from a Huguenot soldier,
who was wounded at the battle of the Boyne, of
whom in some lines '¦* on the death of a friend he
says :
' On the margin of my copy of the Memoirs of the Kar! oj
Charlemoiit, by Francis H.irdy, vol. i, p. 11, Dr. .lolin .lobb,
bishop of LiiiK-rlck, Ardfcrt and Aghadoc, has written, " This is
but a very slight notice of one of the most jemarkable men thai
the Irish Church has had". The words arc, "Mr. Skelton
a respectable clergyman ".
^ A Monody on the death of Mr. .I.imes Agnew, linen-

INTRODUCTION. xiii
Our common grandsire left fair Gallia's land,
Forc'd from her plains by Lewis' stern command,
Join'd great Prince William on Batavia's shore.
At Boyne's fam'd waters heard the cannon roar.
Bishop Reeves expressed in conversation the
opinion that Burdy was probably an altered form
of Dubourdieu, a name found in the north of
Ireland and known as that of the author of the
Statistical Survey of the County of Antrim.
Samuel, the son of Peter Burdy, was born at
Dromore, Co. Down, and entered Trinity College,
Dublin, as a sizar March 22, 1777, won a Scholar
ship In 1780, and took his B.A. degree in 1781.
In 1783 he was ordained, and was appointed to the
curacy, in the Established Church, of Ardglass,
a small seaside town six miles from Downpatrick.
The town had once been important, but when
Burdy went there its houses were chiefly thatched
cottages, with five ruined castles, remains of its
former grandeur.
" The great antiquity of the place ", says Burdy,
" the heroic deeds there performed, its former
"splendid dignity, its present dismal appearance,
" the old and ruined castles, the bold and rocky
" shore, and the extensive prospect both of sea and
" land, naturally excite poetic ideas and language.
All these, it may be supposed, had a sensible

«

draper of Moss-vale, near Lisburn, who died on the 19th of
March, 1798, aged fifty-one.

xiv INTRODUCTION.
" effect on me, who, during the sixteen years that
" I was curate of the parish, frequently spent the
" summers in that romantic situation." ^
While at Ardglass the curate, who had been
introduced by the Provost of Trinity College to
Percy, then bishop of Dromore, fell in love with
the bishop's daughter. He saw in her :
" Such pleasing sweetness, such a graceful air,
" Such sense as seldom happens to the fair." ^
She seems to have returned his affection :
" Sure you must own by every art you strove
" To warm my bosom with a mutual love ;
" Your looks, your sighs, your tears, your words
confest
" The tender passion in your gentle breast." ^
Bishop Percy was displeased, and excluded Burdy
from his house for a long time :
" an exile doom'd to stay
"By the rough shore ofthe resounding sea ;
" Banish'd from thee, whose smiles alone impart
" A soothing med'cine to an aking heart." *
At length the curate wrote a letter' of manly
^ Ardglass or the rmned castles ; Dublin, l802; p. xxvi.
''• To Belinda. ^ The disappointed lover's lamentation.
* To Belinda.
¦' Printed in Illustrations ofthe Literary History ofthe E'tghteenth
Century, by John Bowyer Nichols ; London, 1 858, vol. viii.

INTRODUCTION. xv
apology, but without renouncing his attachment.
He never married.
"Corbally, near Downpatrick, July 30th, 1785.
My Lord,
Since I have been excluded for more than this
twelve months past from the honour of a personal
interview with your Lordship, it was after no small
doubt and perplexity I could at length prevail on
myself to trouble your Lordship with this letter,
which will indeed be an unexpected, and, like its
author, I am afraid an unwelcome visitant.
It is not with an intent to solicit any favour or
preferment, which it would be presumption in me
to ask, and propriety in you to refuse, that I now
take the libert)- of writing to your Lordship, but
merely with a desire to express my sorrow at my
having ever been so unfortunate as to excite in
the least your Lordship's displeasure against me.
Bound as I am to you In many cases by tlie ties of
gratitude for the kindnesses I have received, I
cannot surely be unconcerned with respect to the
opinion your Lordship should please to entertain
of me. My first introduction Into the Church was
owing to your Lordship's warm recommendation ;
it was expressed with the ardour of a friend, and
not with the cold indifference of a stranger. After
wards, too, at my own request, you applied to
a certain gentleman In my favour, who was qualified
to judge of no other merit or distinction but what
fortune can bestow, and to whom I am happy
I never was obliged. You then voluntarily
ordained me a priest without any solicitations of

xvi INTRODUCTION.
mine, and on that occasion condescended to stamp
with your approbation the sermon I hastily com
posed in obedience to your Lordship's commands.
This I should prefer to the unmeaning applause of
whole giddy multitudes, who in general have no
penetration to discover, and no taste to distinguish,
real desert. The elegance of your own writings,
which have so often delighted the age, gives you
a just claim to determine on the merit of others —
' Let those praise others whom themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well.'
The kind attention and civilities I have frequently
met with from your Lordship and amiable family,
have made, I must own, an impression on my
breast too deep to be easily effaced. My respect,
it is true, on that account might have hurried me
into some irregularities and errors, to which all of
us, in this frail state of humanity, are in a greater
or less degree liable. For who can tell how often he
offendeth ? Your Lordship will therefore, I hope,
pardon my errors, into which I have been, betrayed
by a natural sensibility of heart, and by a mind too
apt to be affected with objects that are worthy of
eminent admiration and esteem. And indeed that
man must be divested of the feelings of a man,
whose soul can be insensible to the most charming
part of the creation.
I have much reason to request your Lordship's
indulgence for having recourse to this method in
striving to regain your Lordship's favour, the want
of which I should always consider as a singular
misfortune of my life. I might, it is true, stretch

INTRODUCTION. xvii
out my letter to a much wider extent by a variety
of arguments, which the nature of my subject
would easily afford, if I were not unwilling to
intrude on your precious time. For whilst your
Lordship is busily employed in works of elegance
and taste, in the encouragement of industry and
manufactures, in diffusing wealth, prosperity and
religion everywhere around you, as far as your
influence extends, I must be injurious to the
interests of the community, should I in the least
divert your attention from objects of such impor
tance. In publica commoda peccem, si longo sermone
morer tua tempora.
I am, my Lord, with very great respect, your
Lordship's often obliged and most dutiful servant,
Saml. Burdy."
Percy had a fine library, as may be seen from
the books which came from it and now form a valu
able part of the library at Caledon. He allowed
Burdy to borrow books from it, as is shown by
a later letter to the bishop : " October 4, 1 794.
Mr. Burdy's dutiful respects to the Lord Bishop
of Dromore, and returns Cave's Lives of the
Fathers with thanks. There Is one copy of Skelton's
Life coming from Dublin, which he has ordered
to be sent to his Lordship. Possibly a few more
may be picked up among the different booksellers
and others appointed to sell them.
There is a great clamour raised against this
book by certain interested persons, especially the
Methodists, one of whom has published a virulent
1703.1 D

xviii IXTRODUCTIOX.
pamphlet against it, which possibly may be taken
notice of. Another has written a poem against
Mr. B. which is not vet published. The Monthly
Re\'iewers seem rather offended with him for
throwing out some sarcasms on reviewers In general,
and on the Rev. Air. Lindsey in particular, whom
he understood afterwards to be a reviewer. They,
however, allow him a good deal of credit, own the
book ' is calculated to serve the cause of virtue ',
but say It ' is written in the Irish dialect, which
frequently gives a grammatical inaccuracy to the
expression ". Y'et in their various quotations thev
did not, or could not, point out one single instance
of impropriet)"." ^
KUclief, a perpetual curacy in the Co. Down, was
the only further ecclesiastical preferment Burdy
attained. He came to know Skelton in i 78 i and continued
during the remaining seven yearsof that clergyman's
life to love and admire him. After Skelton's death
Burdy visited many of the places in which his
friend had lived, and in 1 792 published by subscrip
tion in Dublin the book here reprinted. There were
6S3 subscribers for some 704 copies, and a large
proportion of the names belong to the north of
Ireland. It is pleasant to observe that the literar}- instincts
of the Bishop of Dromore led him to subscribe for
six copies in spite of his former domestic differences
' Xichols, lUustrat'iont, vol. \ui.

INTRODUCTION. xix
with the author. The price of the book was three
shillings and sixpence Irish, the Irish shilling
standing for thirteen-pence. The last sentence of
the advertisement seems to indicate that he had met
with some repulses from the great in making up his
subscription list : " I cannot omit the opportunity
of expressing my gratitude to all my subscribers
who, though not distinguished in general by
splendid titles, stations, or fortunes, are at least
plain honest men, encouragers of literature In their
own native land."
The book was attacked for its rusticity, as
Burdy's letter shows, and the author successfully ^
defended himself in "A Vindication of Burdy's
Life of Skelton In answer to an angry pamphlet
entitled Observations, &c., in a letter addressed to
its Author by one who stiles himself a ' Lover of
Truth and Common Sense ', by Detector ". 1 2mo.
pp. 59. Dublin, 1795.
Burdy died In 1820, and is buried. If the requests
of his last will - were carried out, on the north side
of the church of Kilcllef
His other prose works are two veracious but
^ Monthly Review, vol. xviii, September 1 795, p. 1 1 2. I only
know this pamphlet from the notice in the Monthly Re-view.
Bishop Reeves told me that though he had looked for it in
many libraries he had never discovered a copy.
2 Copy of will October 27, 1 8 19, made by the Rev. William
Reynell, B.D., and kindly lent by him to me.
b 2

XX INTRODUCTION.
not profound or interesting histories : " A short
account of the Affairs of Ireland during the years
1783, i784andpart of 1785," pubhshed In London
in 1792. This was a letter written to a fellow
student in America in 1785. The other was
"A History of Ireland", published at Edinburgh in
1 8 17. His volume of poems appeared at Dublin in
1802, entitled " Ardglass or the Ruined Castles:
also the Transformation, with some other poems ".
The transformation is that of a jail in Downpatrick
into a comfortable hotel. These poems are of
Interest from the light they throw upon the life
and opinions of the author. They show that he
thought that he deserved more promotion than he
had received.
My service treated, and my studious pain.
With cold neglect or Insolent disdain.
No friend t' assist me, and no patron smile.
No gift to sooth my literary toil.^
Another passage displays his serious view of his
pastoral charge :
Show my dear flock that life 's a little span.
Teach them their duty both to God and man.
Their sorrows sooth, exalt their hopes above.
To the pure regions of eternal love ;
Suit my own life to holy precepts given.
And point the road that surely leads to heaven.^
' Ardglass, p. 36.
' Ibid.

INTRODUCTION. xxi
He was friendly to all men, but felt more reason
to care for those of his own station in life than for
the great ones of the nation and the University.
In Dublin, he says, it was the merchants from
whom he received most kindness : >
Who showed me this civility .''
None of your great nobility.
None ofyour high-bred quality.
So fam'd for hospitality.
Nor those renowned for learning.
Of merit so discerning.
Oh ! no ! elate with empty pride.
They pass'd me by with haughty stride.
Nor deign'd to hear a tuneful swain,
Or only heard him with disdain.
Many passages in his Life of Skelton set forth
his views of men and of life, and the whole book
shows how capable he was of true friendship and of
gratitude. Skelton was the man he admired most
of all the men he met, but he had warm feelings
for many others, among them for Matthew Young,
his tutor in Trinity College. This Protestant divine,
afterwards Professor of Natural Philosophy and in
1799 bishop of Clonfert, was an active-minded
mathematician, with some taste for patristic theo
logy, and of wide general learning which Included
a knowledge of the Irish language. Burdy
' " On my leaving Dublin in the summer of 1792."

xxii INTRODUCTION.
admired his attainments and his fortitude in a very
painful illness of five months which ended his life
on November 28, 1800. " Had he lived I would
have dedicated my little volume of poems to him,
not in hopes of future favours, but through grati
tude for favours received." '
Burdy's Life of Skelton deals with daily life
and not with political events, yet parts of it may
be clearer to the reader if the state of Ulster in the
time of Skelton (1707-87) is briefly set forth.
When he was a child men were living who had
heard from their grandfathers of the battle of
Benburb, within sight of Armagh, in 1597, when
O'Neill defeated the English army ; and of the
second battle in 1598 when in the same district
O' Xeill routed and slew Marshal Bagnall, and of
the ultimate complete victory of the English In
Ireland under Lord Mountjoy. The flight of
O'Neill and O'Donnell took place just one
hundred years before Skelton's birth, and was
followed by the Plantation of Ulster and the settle
ment in the six escheated counties ^ of numerous
English and Scottish families. Down, where both
Skelton and Burdy were born, was not one of
these, but had already become the home of many
' Xote to Ardglass.
^ Donegal, Coleraine or I^ndonderry. Tyrone, Fermanagh,
A.-magh and Cavan.

INTRODUCTION. xxiii
Immigrants from Scotland and England both upon
conquered lands and lands still held by Irish land
owners. In his childhood a few men were living
who remembered the rising ofthe Irish on Saturday,
October 23, 1641,1 and the long years of war that
followed it.
When Skelton went to school, and even after he
entered the University, many men were still alive
who rememberedtheeventsof the war between King
William and King James, the siege of Derry and
its relief, the battle of the Boyne, the flight of
James, the battle of Aughrim, the siege and the
treaty of Limerick.
The enactments against the Catholic religion
and Catholics which, in spite of the terms of the
treaty, followed the victory of William, existed
throughout Skelton's life, and did all that laws could
do to deprive of their civil rights and religious
liberty a large majority of the inhabitants of Ireland.
The Catholic clergy had to go abroad for their
education. The Catholic archbishops and bishops
were proscribed, and rewards were offered for the
conviction of any person who concealed these
prelates or showed them hospitality. Catholic
churches were forbidden to be opened, and the
1 In the North of Ireland this was called the Rebellion in my
boyhood. The rising of l 798 was there called the Turnout, and
its result was expressed by the phrase " the country was beat ".

xxiv INTRODUCTION.
Catholic population heard Mass and received Holy
Communion in the recesses of bogs and mountains
or in private houses.
In Ulster the Catholics were the majority of
the population, and in the minority, besides the
members of the Established Church, there were
many Presbyterians, some Methodists, and some
smaller sects. There were Protestant dissensions not
dependent upon differences of theological opinion.
In 1763 many ofthe Established clergy had to quit
their parishes in consequence of the riotous pro
ceedings of the Oak boys, or Hearts of Oak.
These were bands of Protestants who objected to
the method of collecting tithes and to the county
cess, a tax assessed by the Grand Jury. They
compelled the clergy to swear to a maximum limit
of tithe and the grand jurors to a moderation of
cess. The Established Church in Ireland in the
eighteenth century was In a most unhappy position.
It owed its possessions to the sword, and was
maintained in its position by penal laws behind
which stood the conquering force of another nation.
Its bishops were appointed by a Minister of State,
who usually cared little for religion and nothing
for Ireland. " I hope ", writes Primate Boulter to
the Duke of Newcastle on February 18, 1726,
"nobody will be sent hither from the Bench in
England for being restless or good for nothing

INTRODUCTION xxv
there," and the same request is repeated in other
of his letters.^
A large proportion of the patronage was in the
hands of the bishops, yet there were many worthy
men among the parochial clergy of the Establish
ment. One great character in fiction is drawn from
a knowledge of the Irish Protestant clergy — the
Vicar of Wakefield, and that the virtues of Dr.
Primrose existed in Ireland Is shown by Burdy's
Life of Skelton. Skelton placed no limit upon
the charity which he exercised, and his wisely
administered beneficence extended to Catholics and
to Presbyterians and Methodists, as well as to his
own parishioners. He was inflexibly upright and
independent, considerate of the consciences of
others, and determined in resistance to oppression.
His first preferment, the parish of Templecarn,
is to this day a wild region which contains the little
town of Pettigo through which numbers of pilgrims
proceed on their way to an island in Lough Derg,
where they perform devotions, listen to sermons,
have spiritual conferences, hear Mass, and receive
Holy Communion. Skelton knew the Catholic
bishop and the prior who presided on the island,
and though his education made it hard for him to
understand their intentions and aims he seems to
have felt a regard for their piety. It was probably
in his conversation with them that he came across
' Hugh Boulter, D.D., Letters. Dublin, 1 770 ; vol. i, p. III.

xxvi INTRODUCTION
a copy ofthe Trias Thaumaturga of Colgan ^ of 1 645
and read therein the hymn of Columba, which seems
to have been in his mind while he was writing the
poem quoted at the beginning of this introduc
tion. Skelton found his own parishioners in this
desolate region without instruction as to the
existence of a Creator, and ignorant of the
elementary truths of Christianity. He twice
sold his library to feed the poor, first at Pettigo
and then at Fintona. These and all his other
good deeds are admirably told in the Life. He is
still remembered at Pettigo, where a cottage he
lived in may yet be seen In the street which leads
towards Lough Derg. He dwelt in Pettigo for
nine years. I first visited the place about one
hundred and twenty years after he left it. It was
a summer evening, and I walked through the town
till I saw a ruined castle. Turning into a field In
which this stood 1 found a man collecting cattle
to drive them home. As we walked back towards
Pettigo I asked him if he had ever heard of the
Reverend Philip Skelton. " Who has not heard of
him in Pettigo ! " he replied ; " I will show you a little
further on the house in which the people lived who
served him up the turkey with its entrails in it."
1 The library TO THS *YXH2 lATPEION at Armagh was
opened in 1 77 1, but its copy of Colgan was added by Dr. Reeves
who purchased it at the sale of the books of John O'Donovan
the editor of tlie Annals of the Four Masters.

INTRODUCTION xxvii
" Are the family still existing ? " I asked. " Yes,"
he said, " but they make out now that they were
very grand then; I cannot see how that can be."
Then I asked where was Castle Caldwell, in which
Sir James Caldwell lived whom Skelton used to
visit, and the man pointed out the direction.
Nearly forty years passed by and I found myself
again in Pettigo, the guest of its hospitable owner
and his wife. We visited Castle Caldwell, and
admired the view thence over Lough Erne and the
remains of the fine timber of the demesne. The
house itself was in a ruinous condition. The
ceiling of the room had fallen down in which one
person of quality told Skelton that there were two
Gods and another that there were three, and in
• which a third only made a genteel bow when asked
a question in theology.
The number of pilgrims to Lough Derg who
pass through Pettigo is greater than in the time of
Skelton. His present successor in the living of
Templecarn having caught three fine trout, left
them in the town for the Friday dinner of a
Catholic stranger. Thus have both piety and
charity increased, and the memory of Skelton
remains green in Pettigo.

THE

LIFE OF THE LATE
Rev. thi lit SKELTON,
WITH SOME
CURIOUS ANECDOTES:
By SAMUEL BURDY, A.B.

F'irtus poft funera vivit.

DUBLIN:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR,
And fold byWILLlAM JONES, No. U, Dame-Street.

M, DCr, XCII.

ADVERTISEMENT,

Ihe expense occasioned by my travelling through
different parts of Ireland to collect materials for this
book obliged me to publish it by subscription. At first
I imagined the price of it would be only half a crown ;
but the unexpected increase of materials by means of
my travels, and the unexpected rise both of paper and
printing (especially as I was resolved to print it on
a fair good paper) made it necessary for me to fix the
price at 3J. <)\d. If I may judge of the sentiments
of the rest of my subscribers by those to whom I have
already spoken on this subject, they will be fully satisfied
of the reasonableness of its price. And here I cannot
omit the opportunity of expressing my gratitude to all my
subscribers, who, though not distinguished, in general, by
splendid titles, stations or fortunes, are at least plain
honest men, encouragers of literature in their own native
land.

A 2

PREFACE.

T:

H E foUowing narrative will not, I hope, be
deemed unworthy of notice in an age so attentive
to productions of a simUar nature. The person
who is the subject of it has published, it is weU
known, seven octavo volumes, which, though not
among the most perfect of their kind, on the whole,
possess such merit as proves him a man of genius.
Besides, to write so much in defence of religion
and virtue demands, I should think, some grati
tude from those who are influenced by a regard
for the most important interests of mankind.
The learned works of that most worthy man, his
eminent abUities as a preacher, his other uncom
mon exertions in his ministerial capacity, the sin
gularity of his character, the strict purity of his
conduct, and his surprising charities, taken aU
together, made him perhaps one of the most
extraordinary persons that Ireland has produced,
where he was universaUy known, and also the

6 PREFACE.
frequent subject of conversation. I shaU therefore
make no further apology for publishing his life.
In coUecting the materials for it I carefully
endeavoured to come at truth, which is acknow
ledged to be the first exceUence of every historic
composition. But lest the reader may not be
satisfied of my care in this point I shall briefly
mention my authorities.
Having been recommended to Mr. Skelton, by
means of two sisters of his at Dromore, in the
year 1780, when I was a scholar of Trinity
College, Dublin, I was soon after admitted into
his friendship and confidence, in which I continued
until he died. During the three last years of my
residence at that university, I passed at least three
evenings with him in the week, and in my absence
was favoured with his correspondence. In my
numerous conversations with him I frequently
Inquired Into the several Incidents of his life, and
usually preserved the information he afforded me.
From his sisters above mentioned, and some others
of his relations, and from the people in the parish
where he was born, I learned more particulars both
of him and his family. With the materials thus
obtained I was not content, but, in the year 1788,
went to the several parishes where he had lived
either as curate or rector, and conversed with those

PREFACE. 7
who were well acquainted with him during the
different periods of his life, to acquire more anec
dotes, and render my information as accurate as
possible. I also, among other places too tedious
to mention, extended my journey to the metropolis,
and received there such intelligence as made suffi
cient amends for my trouble. In preparing the
materials for the press I have probably taken more
pains than it would be prudent to own, being
resolved not to offer a work of this kind to the
public without serious and mature deliberation.
Down, January lo, 1792.

THE LIFE

OF THE LATE

Rev. PHILIP SKELTON.

B

lOGRAPHY conveys very useful Instruc
tion. It sets before us the lives of eminent men,
that we may imitate their virtues, or avoid their
vices. It is a tribute due to merit after death, and
an inducement for others to strive to deserve this
honour. It is even more congenial to our feelings
than history itself; because few can be statesmen
or generals, but every one bears a part in society.
The historian introduces us Into national assemblies,
and presents to us scenes of public commotion.
The biographer leads us into the sequestered walks
of private life. The one is therefore more dignified
and important ; the other more pleasing and natural.
We are usually curious to know every circumstance
of the lives of those, who have been distinguished
from the rest of men. Yet so depraved is our
nature, that we read with more delight accounts of
the destroyers than of the preservers of mankind.

IO THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
We are more pleased to attend the conqueror in
his progress of ruin and devastation, than to ob
serve the faithful pastor, carefully endeavouring to
remove the doubts, rectify the errors, supply the
wants, and soften the sorrows, of the flock com
mitted to his charge. Of this latter sort was the
great and good man, whose life I now offer to the
public. Philip Skelton was born in the parish of Der-
riaghy near Lisburn, in February 1706-7. His
father, Richard Skelton, was a decent honest
countryman, who held under Lord Conway a large
farm at a cheap rent. The father of Richard was
the first of the family that came over from England
to reside in Ireland. He was an engineer ofsome
repute in that country, and was sent over by King-
Charles I. to inspect the Irish fortifications. He
enjoyed, however, but a short time the benefit of
this employment, when the rebellion of forty one
began ; and being then deprived ofit was reduced
to difficulties, which were at least not diminished
by the accession of Cromwel's party to power ; for,
as he might expect, they would not restore him to
an oflRce conferred on him by the King, the unhappy
victim of their ambition. Necessity obliged him
now to strive to get an honest livelihood by work
ing with his hands, to which, we may suppose, he
was not accustomed before. Such changes, however,
in men's circumstances were not unusual at that
time, when, by the victory of the saints, society

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. u
was inverted. He soon after married, and got
a farm in the county of Armagh, where he resided
during the rest of his life.
His son Richard in his younger days lived at
Bottle-hill in the same county. He had served
an apprenticeship to a gunsmith, and was em
ployed at that trade when he went to KUwarlin,
and married there Arabella Cathcart, by whom he
got the farm in Derriaghy already mentioned.
Having removed, on his marriage, to that parish,
he wrought diligently at his trade, until the whole
country was put in confusion by the war between
WUliam and James. He was then carried off by
King James, and compelled to work for his army.
His wife, who had two chUdren, and was with
chUd of the third, having obtained a pass from
the King, retired with her family to Island-Magee,
a small peninsula near Carrickfergus ; where she
was delivered of her third child, and experienced,
during her illness, tender usage from the poor
inhabitants, who sat up with her at nights to take
care of her. " Whose turn is it (they used to
say to one another) to sit up with the stranger
to night." Nor was she ungrateful to them for
their kindness. She entrusted her house and farm
to a Roman Catholic family caUed Hamill, who,
acting with singular honesty on the occasion, sent
her, in abundance, butter, flour, and every other
necessary of life, the produce of her farm, to her
place of retirement. With a large share of what

12 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
she received she rewarded the people of Island-
Magee for their services. On her return she
found every thing belonging to her carefully
preserved by the catholics, who took as much care
of her property as if it had been their own. Such
instances of fidelity were but rare in those turbulent
times, when bigotry too often destroyed the force
of moral obligations. Her children, on that account,
had always a regard for those of the catholic per
suasion. I heard Mr. Skelton often say, that the
poor original Irish were naturally faithful, humane,
and averse to blood.
His father, who preferred the cause of WiUiam,
wrought afterwards voluntarily for his army. Let
us not despise him for being the son of a gun
smith. Men of superior merit do not always
spring up in the higher ranks of society. De
mosthenes, it Is well known, was the son of a
blacksmith ; yet this circumstance of his origin
never detracted from his fame. The poet, his
panegyrist, seems to dwell on it with pleasure.
Quem pater ardentis massa fuligine lippus,
A carbone, et forcipibus, gladiosque parante
Incude, et luteo Vulcano ad rhetora misit.
His father blear-eyd with the glowing bar.
That Vulcan forms to instruments of war.
Sent him from this to leam a nobler art.
With eloquence to charm the human heart.
In the latter part of his life he quitted the gun-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 13
smith-trade, which could not be profitable in a
country place, and kept a little tan-yard. So that
Mr. Skelton used to caU himself the son of a tanner.
At his father's, he said, they always got beef on a
Sunday, but not regularly during the rest of the
week. The farm he had was indeed sufficient of
itself to afford a competent support to himself and
famUy ; yet it was necessary he should be frugal
and industrious, for he had six sons and four
daughters. Three of his sons were educated for
clergymen of the established church, of which he
was a member ; PhUip who was the youngest,
John who was schoolmaster of Dundalk, and
Thomas who had the smaU living of Newry.
PhUip, when he was about ten years old, was
sent to Lisburn latin school, which was then kept
by the Rev. Mr. Clarke, a man of eminence in his
profession ; who, having afterwards left that place
on account of a dispute with Lord Conway, ob
tained the school of Drogheda, where he lived to
an advanced age. His spirited resistance thus
helped to get him promotion in the world, which
too frequendy is the effect of tame submission to
superiors. However, he did not leave Lisburn,
untU after Mr. Skelton had completed the course
of his school studies. His father, though he lived
within two mUes of the town, placed him at lodg
ings there, that he might enjoy every opportunity
of improvement. Sensible of its importance, he
did not spare expence to give his chUdren educa-

14 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
tion. On Saturday evening he always went to
his father's and returned to Lisburn on Monday
morning. At first he did • not relish his grammar, which
seemed dry and disagreeable, and therefore he
would not confine himself to it. The master com
plained of this to his father, who used the follow
ing method to cure him of his idleness. He raised
him one Monday morning early out of his bed,
and having put a pair of coarse brogues on his
feet, ordered him to go out immediately to the
fields to work with the common labourers. This
command he wiUingly obeyed, supposing it would
be less laborious to toil there, than to fatigue his
head with hard study. His father made him
carry stones on a hand-barrow, and submit to the
severest drudgery ; not allowing him to come
home to his breakfast, but keeping him fasting
long beyond the usual time, and then sending it
to him of the coarsest food to take in the open
fields. When he returned from his day's work, he
treated him as he did the lowest servant. He
would not suffer him to keep company with the
rest of his children, but bade him go to his com
panions the servants, and stay with them. Broken
down at last by this hard usage he began to relent,
and burst into tears. His father then said to him,
" Sirrah, I'll make this proposal to you : Whether
do you choose to toil and drudge all your life, as
you have these few days past, living on coarse

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 15
food, clad in frize clothes, and with brogues on
your feet, or to apply to your books, and eat, and
drink, and be dressed like your brothers here .''"
pointing to his brothers, who, at vacation, had just
then come down from the university, decked out
in Dublin finery. Poor PhUip, whose bones ached
with the hand-barrow, said, " he would readily
go to school, and be attentive to his studies."
Accordingly he did so, and continued studious
ever after.
The success of this project proved the sagacity
of his father, who was remarkable for his good
sense over the whole parish of Derriaghy. The
gendemen of fortune in that place had such an
high opinion of him, that they used to invite him
frequendy to their houses, for the sake of his
conversation. A Bishop Smyth in particular, who
lived there, showed him every mark of attention,
and his Lordship's daughters were pleased to make
a companion of his eldest daughter, a young woman
of sense and accomplishments superior to her oppor
tunities. His father had also some knowledge of
architecture, being employed to superintend the
buUding of the present church of Derriaghy. His
circumstances, by his care and industry, were daily
improving, when death carried him off from his
disconsolate family in the fiftieth year of his age ;
while he was engaged in building a dwelling house,
and making a new tan-yard, neither of which were
ever after completed. Such are the hopes of man !

i6 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
A few hours before he died, he called to him
his ten children to give them a charge. Philip,
who had been then but half a year at the latin
school, he desired to study physic, and learn to
cure the disease that was killing his father. He
obeyed, as I wiU shew, his dying command, but
fixed on divinity for his profession, to which he
believed himself called by a voice more than human.
Thus did he lose in his tender years an excellent
father, a man of admirable sense, a strict observer
of religion, and a careful instructer of his children.
He retained ever after a grateful remembrance of
his worth. In his Senilia he calls him " his wise
and good father." He used to say with Horace,
that if he were appointed to choose a father out of
all the men in the world, he would take the one he
had. While he lived at Enniskillen, he was once on
a visit at Mr. Armour's of Casde-Coole, where he
met with a Mr. Tench, Dr. Mc. Donald of the
diocess of Clogher, and some others. The con
versation turning upon the requisites to make
a gentleman, on which they differed in opinion.
Dr. Mc. Donald said, education made a gentleman.
Skelton denied it. He said, that he only was
a gentleman, as Lord Burleigh defines it, who has
riches derived from ancestors, that possessed them
for time immemorial. He then told them, there
was not one of them a gentleman except Mr.
Tench. " As for myself," he continued, " I am

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 17
no gentleman, my father was only a tanner ; yet
I would not change him for the best of your
fathers, for he was a man of virtue and religion."
His mother was left with ten children. She had
indeed the benefit of the family farm, but land at
that time was comparatively of little value, and
a great part of hers was rough and mountainous.
Of consequence, her means of support for such
a family were not over abundant ; but she made
amends for this by her care and prudence in
managing her affairs. Her son Philip, who con
tinued StUl to go to the latin school, lived, as it
seemed convenient, partly at her house, and partly
at lodgings in Lisburn. The sharp medecine which
his father administered to him, having cured him
effectually of his idleness, he was ever after, as
I said before, extremely attentive to his studies.
He that gains the prize of literature has passed
through a previous course of discipline while a
boy. Dedicit prius extimuitque magistrum. His
parts, at first, were not remarkably quick or reten
tive, but his dUigence enabled him to overcome
every obstacle. When he was at a loss for candles
to read at night, which frequently happened, he
made use of furze, which he gathered for the
purpose, and then throwing them piece by piece
upon the fire, read by the glimmering light. Such
was the expedient suggested by an ardent desire
for learning. He used to teU us, that when he
was at school, he and some of his schoolfellows,

1 8 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
who were also remarkably studious, often met
together in the fields and examined each other
most stricdy for halfpence. He that missed the
answer of the question proposed was forced to give
a halfpenny to the boy who examined him ; which
made them, as he remarked, prepare themselves
with great care, for halfpence were then very
scarce. The foUowing litde incident of his life, while
he was at the latin-school, cannot, I think, be un
worthy the attendon of the curious. Straying one
day through the fields near Lisburn, he happened
to shout out on the top of a hill there, and found
that the echo repeated the same words successively
in a StiU lower tone. He used afterwards to amuse
himself often with speaking loud at this place. One
morning he was repeating there the first line of
Virgil, Tityre tu patulee recubans sub tegmine fagi,
when the usher of the school, a Scotchman, of a
sour temper, very fat, and remarkable for chewing
tobacco, walking near the place, and hearing the
echo, imagined he was caUing to him in a jeering
tone of voice, fat chops, tobacco box. The Scotchman
was so enraged at this supposed insult, that he
insisted on Skelton's being turned out of school ;
if not, he would leave it himself. Skelton told the
master the story of the echo, and appealed to his
schoolfellows for the truth of what he said. But

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 19
the usher would not be pacified, and at last, as a
great favour, was content with his being whipped.
This odd sort of echo near Lisburn is mentioned
in his Latin treatise on sounds by Dr. Hales late of
Trinity College, one of the most worthy clergymen
of Ireland, whose humUity can be only equaUed by
his learning. For he had none of that stiff dignity,
and supercilious importance, that too often distin
guish academic authority. The whole account of
the echo, conveyed in Mr. Skelton's own words, is
inserted in a latin note at the end of the volume ;
but, on examination, I find it is of too philosophic
a nature to be introduced into a work of this kind.
I cannot now recollect any other incident of his
life, while at school, worth relating. It appears
indeed that he was not upon that occasion treated
with over Indulgence by the master, who, without
any fault of his own, whipped him, just to please
a peevish Scotch usher. To the sons of poor or
middling men it would, I think, be a disadvantage
to meet with too gende usage from their preceptors.
It is fit they should, from the beginning, be trained
to diflSculties, with which they may be forced to
struggle aU their days.
On leaving school, he entered a sizer * in the
* It is odd, that he never even insinuated to me, or, as far
as I could learn, to any other of his acquaintances, that he
entered the college in that capacity. Nor had I the least sus
picion of it, until, on examining the college books, I found,
that there were two Skeltons, both sizers, at that time in the
B 2

20 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
university of Dublin, as the coUege books inform
us, in June 1724. His tutor was the famous
Dr. Delany, who, by his conduct, proved himself,
his real friend ever after. He applied there with
diligence to the useful studies enjoined by that
noble seminary, and soon acquired the reputation
of a scholar. However, his attention to his books
did not prevent him from displaying his skill in
the manly exercises, in which he could find but
few equal to him. He was allowed to be an
excellent boxer, nor was he unwilling, if an oppor
tunity offered, to show his cleverness in this accom
plishment. He was also very dexterous in the
small sword, and a complete master in the back
sword. He could come up to a St. George, throw an
out and cut an in,* save himself, and strike his
antagonist. While he was in the college, he went once to
Donybrook fair, and heard it proclaimed there,
that a hat was set up as a prize for the best cudgel-
player. The two cudgels with basket-hUts lying
for public inspection, Skelton, like a second Dares,
stept forward, took up one of them, made a
bow to the girls, and challenged an antagonist to
college. All this might be construed into a sort of pride in
him. Yet why should he be ashamed of being once in that
academic station, which has produced sorae of the greatest and
most conspicuous characters in Ireland ?
* These are cant phrases used by teachers of fencing with
the backsword.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 21
oppose him. On this a confident young fellow
came up and accepted the chaUenge. Immediately
a ring was formed, and the two heroes began.
They fought for a whUe on equal terms, warding
off the blows by their skiU in the science of defence.
But at last. his antagonist was off his guard, and
Skelton taking the advantage, hit him some smart
strokes about the head, and made him throw down
the cudgel, and own he was conquered. He thus
gained the victory, and won the hat. He then
took the hat in his hand, showed it to the gaping
crowd, made a bow to the girls, and told them, " he
fought just to please them, but would not keep
the hat, that they might have more amusement ; "
and then bowed again and retired. A hero in
romance could not have been more complaisant to
the fair sex.
The foUowing trick of his, which has been since
practised by some others, is not unsuitable to the
character of a young man in the college. He and
twelve more dining at an inn near Dublin, when
the reckoning was to be paid, they discovered
there was no money in the company. Skelton
then invented the scheme of blindfolding the
waiter, that the first he might catch should pay
the reckoning, and thus they all escaped. How
ever, he took care to have the landlord paid for
his dinner.
He usually associated with his fellow students
as often as he could find leisure from his studies.

22 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
for he was remarkably fond of society, an inclination
which adhered to him constantly through life.
The feUows of the college, observing a crowd of
students about him whenever he appeared in public,
used to say to him, "Skelton you have more
acquaintances than any one in the college." In
such a place, a simUarity of age, dispositions, pur
suits, often forms a society more agreeable than is
experienced ever after. However, his fondness
for society involved him then in a very unhappy
affair. Ranging once through the town with a
parcel of students, they raised a riot, and a man
was unfortunately killed by some of the party.
This had a serious effect on him, and made him
cautious of the company he kept in future.
His temper, as may be inferred, was naturally
warm and couragious, and unable to brook an
affront : of this he gave a suflScient proof whUe at
the university, according to our notions of honour
at present. For he had a quarrel there with one
of his fellow-students, which they thought fit to
determine at Stephen's Green with small swords.
But when they came to the ground, the seconds
interposed, and the affair was thus settled.
This quarrel with his fellow-student made his
coUege life very uneasy to him. The young
gentleman was some way connected with Dr.
Baldwin the Provost, who, by his means, was
Skelton's enemy ever after, Baldwin was a man
of a haughty temper ; he carried every thing in

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 23
the college by absolute sway ; he nominated fellows
and scholars at pleasure. The statutes indeed give
the Provost great authority ; they were tinctured
with a tyrannic complexion by the famous Arch
bishop Laud, a prelate of great learning and
abilities, but unhappily a slave to ceremonies, and
a promoter of arbitrary measures. The young
man, who had stUl a spite against Skelton, pushed
on by his malice to a false accusation, told the
Provost he was a Jacobite, and thus, as he expected,
roused his indignation against him. For Baldwin
was one of the greatest whigs of his day. He was
a Junior FeUow when James II. made a barrack
of our elegant seminary. The king turning him
out of his fellowship, as he did all others who
refused to subscribe to popery, he was obliged to
go over to England, and teach a common English
school for his bread. King William, when he
gained the victory, restored him. He was a furious
enemy to Queen Ann's last ministry, and was
active in forming schemes against them ; suspecting
they had a design of bringing in the Pretender ;
and who can say there was no ground for such
suspicions .'' Indeed a dark cloud, which time has
not yet whoUy dispeUed, seems to have been cast
over this affair. His opposition to Queen Ann's
last ministry caused him to be taken notice of by
George I. who made him Provost in 17 15.
Enraged at Skelton on account of the charge
imputed to him, he sent orders for him to come

24 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
and appear before him. He instantly obeyed,
little suspicious of the cause. The Provost then
told him, he was assured on the best authority,
that he was a Jacobite, and of consequence a most
dangerous person in the university, where he might
corrupt the youth by his bad principles. Skelton,
astonished at the falsity of the charge, solemnly
declared, that he was as strenuous for the House
of Hanover as any one in Ireland. But the Pro
vost, who placed more confidence in his favourite,
said he would not believe him, for he heard it
from one on whose veracity he could depend.
Hence all his protestations of innocence were vain.
The Provost then said to him, " Child, I'll ruin
you for ever." " WUl you damn my soul, Sir ? "
Skelton replied. "No," he said^ "but I'U ruin
you in the college here." " Oh Sir," he observed,
" that's but a short for ever." By this it appears
that even then he had a warm sense of religion,
and did not fear the puny resentment of man.
The rich and great imagine they have happiness or
misery at their finger's end, and can deal them
out at pleasure. Yet they are very stingy in
bestowing one of them, supposing it best to keep
it aU to themselves, and probably they have much
occasion for it. Their liberality with respect to the
other, I shall not indeed question.
The dispute, that produced the malicious charge
against his character, was owing chiefly to the
conduct of his fellow-student, who imagined, his

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 25
intimacy with the Provost gave him a right to
say and do what he pleased. He thought every
thing became him. But Skelton could not bear
his insolence ; hence the quarrel ensued. The
minion is often more intolerable than his master.
The Provost did not delay the execution of his
threats ; he was scrupulous in keeping his word ;
he strove to hinder poor Skelton of a scholarship,
but by a lucky mistake he was baffled in his pious
efforts. He mistook him for another of the same
name, and thus he received the reward of his merit,
at Trinity 1726.
He piqued himself much on a cut of his (to use
the college phrase) at his examination for scholar
ships. Dr. Delany, who examined in the Odes of
Horace, met with these words, carpe diem ; the lad
he was examining called it seize the opportunity.
This it seems did not please him, he therefore put
it from one to another, till at last it came to
Skelton, who said crop the day. " Right," the Doc
tor replied, " Why so .'' " " Because (said Skelton)
the day is a flower," preserving the beauty of the
metaphor. The examiner, many of whom have
strange peculiarities, gave him it seems an additional
mark for this answer. We^ often value ourselves
more on hits of this sort than on matters of real
importance. He did not over-abound with money at that
time, and especially before he got a scholarship,
the emoluments of which are sufficiendy known.

26 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
His two brothers the clergymen contributed In
some degree to support the expence of his educa
tion ; but the assistance derived from these and
his mother was not sufficient to keep him out
of debt and danger. He was once in particular
forced to confine himself some weeks within the
college for fear of baUiffs, who were prowling about
the gates in search of him ; for the lads would
not allow these harpies to come within the walls ;
yet if any were so imprudent, they met with very
harsh usage, which served as an example to terrify
others in future. The testimony of his friend
Mr. Hawkshaw, to whom he was a long time
curate in Monaghan, pardy confirms the account
I have given. For he assured me, that, for some
years after he got the cure of that place, he paid
Dr. Delany a certain sum every year to discharge
a debt contracted whUe in the college.
The narrowness of his circumstances made him
apply more dUigently to his books. He had but
few temptations to go abroad ; he wished to gain
that distinction by literature, which he could not
by fortune. The rich may slumber away their
time, as they usually do, but the calls of nature
often rouse the poor, and force them to their
studies. Hunger is a most powerful spur to
genius. Magister artis ingeniique largitor venter.
It is this, he remarked, that chiefly helps the Scotch
professors to make now such a figure in literature.
Accustomed, he said, to encounter poverty in their

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 27
youth, and living in a barren country, and keen
sharp air, like that of Attica, they easUy overcome
many literary difficulties, which appear invincible
to those, who were bred up in sloth, softness and
plenty. There are indeed some additional reasons,
derived from the nature of their institution, which
it would be inconsistent with my subject to dwell
on at present.
Baldwin who was, if possible, stiU more enraged
at him for tricking him out of a scholarship, if
I may caU it such, strove to vex him aU in his
power, for he was bitter in his aversions. In a short
time he found it necessary to call him before him
again but on a very different occasion.
Soon after he got a scholarship, on the death of
CoghU the great civUian, there was a vacancy for
a member of parliament to represent the univer
sity. Two candidates were proposed, one of them
Dr. Helsham, the noted feUow, a tory, and the
other Mr. Palliseer, a moderate man, whose father,
the Archbishop of Cashel, had buUt Palliseer's
building in the college, and made a present of
a large coUection of books for the library, which
are to be seen there even now. Provost Baldwin,
who required humble obedience in every thing,
being averse to Helsham on account of his prin
ciples, sent for the scholars of the house, who
with the fellows are the electors, and ordered them
to vote for Mr. Palliseer. Skelton going among
the number promised, as the rest did, to obey

2S THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
his command. Helsham's party finding now he
would be unable to succeed set up in his room
Dr. Elwood, a senior feUow and a whig, who, on that
account, and by making larger offers and promises,
with which gentiemen abound at such seasons,
brought over the Provost to his side. He then
sent for the scholars again, and bade them not
vote for Mr. Palliseer, but for Dr. Elwood. When
he delivered his injunctions to Skelton*, he replied
thus, " Sir you ordered me to support Mr. Palliseer,
and in obedience to your command, I waited on
him, and told him I would vote for him, how
then can I, consistently with honour, retract my
promise.''" "Skelton," said the Provost, "yon
must do as I desire you, or mark the consequence."
" Let it be as It may " he rejoined, " I will not
break my word, but 1 will vote for Mr. Palliseer."
" Sirrah," he replied in a passion, " you are an
obstinate Impudent fellow, and I never can get
any good of you ; but I'll make you repent of it
yet." On the day of the election, Mr. Palliseer
found himself deserted by the majority of his
friends, who, through fear of the Provost, whose
power it was dangerous to oppose, were forced to
declare against him. Skelton previous to the elec-
* Dr. Palliseer of Rathfarnam told me, that Dr. Baldwin
assured him he was not an enemy to Mi'. Palliseer on that
election. On the contrary, Mr. Skelton .issured me that the
Provost, on summoning him the second time, positively ordered
him to vote for Di. Elwood.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 29
tion, had got a hurt on his leg, which lamed him,
and made him use a staff; and on the day on
which it was held came limping into the hall with
a huge club in his hand, and a gown about his
shoulders ; a figure somewhat odd and terrific ; for
he was a large sized man, of a majestic appearance.
When the Provost, who was returning ofiicer, asked
him, whom he would vote for.'' he replied, with
an intrepid countenance, that he would vote for
Mr. Palliseer, and said openly before them all, that
It was very ungrateful in them to reject the son of
a man, who had done so much for the college. Yet
the father's liberality to it could not secure for the
son the honour of being one of its representatives.
The Provost's whim, inclining to the opposite side,
was sufficient to turn the scale against him.
Skelton's conduct at the college election must
appear, I should think, in a most favourable point
of view. No threats of a tyrannic superior could
prevail on him shamefully to break his word, and
desert, at the hour of trial, the man to whom he
had promised support. He would not follow a
multitude to do evil. The whole tenor of his life
was exacdy suitable to the instance I have given,
as he was always too strict an observer of virtue to
yield to the fashionable current of the times.
It appears from Dr. Baldwin's influence at the
election, that the university in those times was a
mere borough of the Provost. If the candidate
secured his favour, he was chosen ; if not, he was

30 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
surely rejected. For the honour of modern times,
we can boast, that the case is now quite altered,
and that the freedom of election is fuUy restored to
it. He that is acquainted with the nature of col
lege poUtics for these some years past must be fully
convinced of this. But the subject is too delicate
for me to handle with sa^fety. Yet Mr. Skelton's
remarks to me, with respect to the college election,
though they savoured somewhat of the courtier,
may, I hope, be introduced, without giving offence.
He said, that the college should always choose
men of consequence, and high authority with
government to represent them. "Such persons (he
observed) would be able to obtain for them favours
from government, which young hot-headed men
of narrow connections could not possibly procure.
The fellows of the college (he continued) have
often complained to me that government never
make bishops of any of them now, as they used in
former times ; but how can they expect this, when
they choose representatives to oppose them in
parliament .'' "
A part of the college, while he was there, being
accidentaUy set on fire, he laboured hard in carrying
water to quench it, which could not be effected tUl
three buildings were consumed. He fatigued him
self thus almost to death, while many of his fellow-
students quietiy looked on. His brother Thomas
was once whUe a school-boy in imminent danger
from an accident of this sort ; being confined by a

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 31
fever in a room in Lisburn when it was on fire ;
but he was luckily carried out to the fields before
the flames reached the place where he lay.
Skelton, finding it impossible for him to gain
the Provost's favour, resolved to take his degree
as soon as the proper time arrived, and quit the
college. He accordingly took due care to prepare
himself for the examination, which it was necessary
for him to undergo previous to his obtaining his
degree, and answered as well as he could wish ;
but still there was an impediment in his way. The
Provost strove to plague him once more before
they parted. Being well assured he would be glad
to get free of the college, where he was subject to
his power, which he had made him too sensibly
feel ; on that account, at commencements *, by
some idle pretence, he stopt him of his degree.
He was thus all at once disappointed In his hopes.
His only remedy now was to wait with patience
till the next commencements, which would take
place in about half a year. When the time began
to approach, he considered how he might play a
trick on the Provost and get his degree. Accord
ingly, a few days before it arrived, he waited on
him, and after paying his humble submission, said
to him, " Mr. Provost, I am extremely obliged to
you for stopping me of my degree last time, because
* Commencements signify the ceremony of taking degrees,
which is held twice in the year, viz. on Shrove-Tuesday, and
the Tuesday next after the Sth. of July.

32 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
it was what I wished for above all things, and I beg
and beseech you may also stop me now, as my
friends are forcing me to take it and quit the coUege,
contrary to my desire." " Ah, you dog," he replied,
" what do you mean, do you wish to stay here con
trary to your friends consent .'' Take your degree.
Sirrah, and quit the college, or I'll make you smart
for it." Skelton began then to cry and whine and
sob, saying how greatly distressed he was at getting
this unfavourable answer. " Don't be growling
here. Sir," he said, " but go about your business,
I'll not agree to your request, you shall take your
degree in spite of you, Sirrah." Upon this poor
Skelton with sorrowful countenance, though with
joy at his heart, walked grumbling out of the room.
" My scheme (he told me) happUy succeeded, so
I took my degree, and quit the college, and a fig
for the provost." " He commenced Bachelor of
arts in July 1728, and had his name taken off
the coUege books on the 31st. of May foUowing,
two years before the natural expiration of his
scholarship." Though Dr. Baldwin treated him with such
severity, yet he always spoke of him with respect,
and indeed justly, for he was on the whole an
exceUent Provost. He possessed, Skelton said,
a kind of solemn gravity suitable to his station.
His person and external behaviour were dignified
and striking. He required a strict adherence to
academic discipline, and first set the example him-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 33
self. He attended chapel twice every day, at ten
in the morning, and four in the afternoon. He
was also unmarried and a clergyman, an austerity
enjoyned by the letter of the statutes. Yet he
could not entirely overcome the propensities of
human nature. His partiality for a certain fair
one afforded subject of some scandal, and at length
roused the indignation ofthe students, who rose up
against her and turned her out of the college.
Baldwin, it is owned, had most of the quali
ties requisite for the station he possessed ; but
their effect was often destroyed by his tyrannical
imperious conduct. His violent expulsion of
Dr. Hughes, a senior fellow, for some disrespectful
expressions against him in his absence, strongly
n^arks the character of the man. In his political
opinions he could bear no opposition. He had an
utter aversion to Dean Swift, because he was a tory,
and used to say jeeringly of him, that he was
remarkable for nothing else, while in the college,
except for making a good fire. He would not
allow his college-woman, he said, to do it, but took
that trouble on himself He died, when he was
above ninety, in 1758, having enjoyed the Provost-
ship forty three years.
Skelton related the following story of old Bald
win's prowess. The students were formerly obliged
by the statutes to go to Patrick's Cathedral every
Sunday in lent, which produced shocking quarrels
between them and the butchers of Patrick's market.

34 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
At one of these horrid conflicts, the Provost ran
out before them, and said, "foUow me, my lads,
and I'U head you. I am appointed by your parents
and friends to take care of you, and I'll fight for
you tiU I die." " He would have done so too,"
said Skelton, " for he was as brave as a lion." It
was at length found necessary, on account of these
quarrels, to pass an act of parliament dispensing
with their attendance at St. Patrick's.
I have been so much taken up with his academic
scuffles with Dr. Baldwin, that I inadvertently
omitted a few more of his juvenile exploits, which
may, not improperly, be introduced here. Among
his other accomplishments, he was also a most
excellent dancer ; he could both dance gracefully,
and dance long, two rare qualities united. During
the college long-vacations, he amused himself with
various exercises at Derriaghy, such as throwing
the stone, the sledge and the like. But long-
bullets * was his favourite exercise, in which there
was no match for him in the whole parish. Yet,
though he excelled the generality of others in every
exercise, he owned, he was beat shamefully by
individuals in them all.
He went once in vacation on a visit to Mourne,
and showed there at a public meeting many feats
* Long-bullets is an exercise, wherein a metal ball of two or
three pound weight is thrown along a public road. He whose
ball, in an equal number of throws, goes farthest past a fixed point,
is victorious.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 35
of activity ; running up turf-stacks, dike a cat,
without stopping tiU he came to the top, which
amazed every one present. -When he saw them
surprized at his agility, he chaUenged any of them
to play long-buUets with him. They then pro
duced, after some hesitation, a thin poor-looking
body, who, they said, would play with him. Skel
ton viewed his puny antagonist with contempt.
He looked down on him, as Goliah did on David.
" Is it you," he said, " that's to play with me ? "
" Yes," the man replied. " Well, well," he said,
" we'll soon settle this matter." Skelton then took
the biUlet, and made a huge throw quite confident
of success. The litde fellow then, in his turn,
took the buUet, and threw it about twice as far as
Skelton, who stood in amaze, as he imagined he
could beat him easily. He declared he heard the
bullet whizzing past him, as if it had been shot
out of a cannon ; he threw it with such force.
Thus was he vanquished by the puny body he
despised. People are not always to be judged of
by appearance ; hence too much confidence is often
foUed. The summer, in which he commenced Bachelor
of arts, he spent, as usual, in the Parish of Der
riaghy, where he met with a terrible accident, which
he considered ever after as an instance of the divine
judgment. He was then, as he informs us, twenty
one years of age*, and since he was eight years
* Skelton's Works, vol. 5, page 522.
C 2

36 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
old, had never once omitted, morning and evening,
to offer up his prayers to God, untU one morning
that two or three of his companions broke in on
him whUe he was in bed, and carried him off with
them to play long-buUets. WhUe he was engaged
in this sport, a three pound ball, thrown by one
of his companions, hit a stone, and leaping back
struck him above the left eye, and flattened the
projecting part of his scull. He fell down seem
ingly quite dead, and was carried to the house of
a Mrs. Granger, a woman that knew a little of
surgery, who stitched the wound in five different
places, and kept him for some time at her own house.
A small splinter of a bone came out of his scull,
before he quite recovered. This hurt, with extreme
abstinence, and large evacuations, necessary to
prevent a fever, greatly shattered, he says, his
excellent constitution. He had always a grateful
sense of the care taken of him by Mrs. Granger,
and made her several presents during her life.
He sent her (in 1774) a web of fine linen, part of
which he desired her to keep for her winding-sheet.
She lived until she was an hundred and five. The
omission of his prayers on the morning it hap
pened, he supposed ever after to be the cause of
this unhappy accident. So early was his mind
Impressed with a lively sense of religious duty.
Having conducted Mr. Skelton, too tediously
I fear, through the preparatory courses of school
and coUege, I proceed to attend him in his pro-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 37
gress after he entered into holy orders. When he
got better of the hurt he received at long-bullets
he lived for a whUe with his brother in Dundalk,
and took on himself the management of the school,
which by his presence rose to high repute. How
ever he only staid there a short time, when
he obtained a nomination to the curacy of New-
town-Butier in the county of Fermanagh, from
Dr. Madden, usually called Premium-Madden, as
by his means premiums were first established at
quarterly examinations in Trinity College. He
was recommended to the Doctor by Mr. Brook of
Cole-Brook in the same count}- ; and was ordained
a deacon for this cure by Dr. Sterne Bishop of
Clogher, in whose diocess it lay, about the year
1729. He fasted and prayed two days previous
to his ordination, doubtful whether he should
get himself ordained or be married. His being
ordained for this cure might then prevent his
marriage, as he was bound to become private
tutor to the Doctor's chUdren, and reside in his
family. On the night after he was ordained, he and the
rest of the young deacons slept in the Bishop's
house, and one of them lay in the same bed with
him. In the morning, another of them came to
them while they were in bed with a rod in his hand,
and began a lashing them in sport. At last, Skelton
leaping up, took him by the neck, and threw him
down stairs. The Bishop heard the noise, and

38 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
came running to see what had happened. Skelton
told him, the young deacon was so flushed with
being ordained that he could not behave quietiy, but
must lash him, and he was forced to shew him the
shortest way down stairs. The Bishop owned, as
he was insolent, he could not blame him. When
he was ordained a priest, he and the rest of the
candidates were examined by this same Bishop and
his assistant a whole week in Latin, for they would
not allow them, all the time of this curious trial,
to speak a word of English.
The following story of a Bishop's examining a
young man for orders I heard him often tell, and
once in particular when Dr. Thomas Campbell
was in company, who, I dare say, recollects it even
now. He happened to come to the Bishop's house
too late to be examined by the Archdeacon with
the other candidates. However his Lordship said
to the young man, "as I have a regard for you,
I'll examine you myself" Accordingly he brought
him up to his study, which was lined with books,
and made him sit down at a table that was covered
with huge folios and quartos. Immediately his
Lordship sat down opposite to him, and thus,
as Skelton said, hostUities commenced. His Lord
ship's first question was, " pray. Sir, how old is this
world we live in ? " The young man answered he
could not teU. "A very sensible answer, (his
Lordship gravely replied) for the septuagint says
one thing, the Hebrew another, the Talmud

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 39
another, the Targum another ; in fact no two of
them are agreed among themselves about the age
of the world, and therefore your answer is the
most sensible imaginable." He then asked him
again, " how old is the new world ? " The young
man said, naturally enough, he did not understand
the question. " I mean (his Lordship said) how
long is it since America was discovered.^" The
candidate then answered at a guess, it was so
long, but happened to be fifty years either in or
over. " Very well, very well, (replied his Lordship)
you are within fifty years of it, which is no great
distance, upon my word : This is enough." Thus
the examination concluded ; parturiunt montes.
When his Lordship came down to the rest of the
candidates, he said to them, " Gentlemen, I had
some notion of making each of you write a littie piece
of composition, as is usual on such occasions ; but
I have thought better of it now, and in place of it,
I'll only ask you to listen to a piece of advice TU
give you after dinner, relating to your behaviour
as clergymen, which will be more useful to you,
and more pleasing to me, than any nonsense you
could write." His Lordship then, after dinner,
according to his promise, gave them this advice.
" You may think (he said) that good preaching will
make you agreeable to your people ; but here
I must tell you, you are quite mistaken ; it is not
for this they'll like you ; but I'll teach you a
method of gaining all their favours. Look out for

40 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
some humorous jest book, and pick out aU the
droll stories you meet with in it, and get them by
heart. Then, if you be able, make up some new
ones ofyour own with all the circumstances of time
and place, and the like ; Indeed, if I had leisure,
I could tell you a few of my own making, which
might serve you on occasions. Take care also to
recollect, if possible, every witty thing you hear
in company, and fix it in your memory. Thus
equipped, you wUl be well qualified to do the duties
of your parish. For when you go to christenings,
marriages, or wakes, you may easily entertain every
one preser t by your witty jokes and droll stories,
with which, ^ ou know, your head wUl be full ; so
that your company will be sought for over the whole
parish. With respect to your conduct in church (his
Lordship continued) I have a word or two to say to
you, if you happen to make a blunder in reading
prayers or preaching, don't stop to rectify It ; but
go boldly on ; for 'tis ten to one, if a single person
In the whole church be listening to a word you say ;
but if you stop, and go back on the word, and
begin to hum and haw, the hearers will immediately
prick up their ears, and whisper to one another,
Ah I the curate s out, the curates out, and thus you'U
be exposed to ridicule."
The living possessed by Dr. Madden is caUed
DrummuUy, worth at that time about four hun
dred a year ; but the church, of which Mr. Skel
ton served the cure, is adjacent to the viUage of

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 41
Newtown-Butier. When the living of DrummuUy
fell vacant, the Doctor was a colonel of militia, and
was then in Dublin dressed in scarlet. The right
of presenting to this benefice being divided between
the Doctor's family, and some other : his family
had presented on the last vacancy, and of course
the other had a right to present now. His
family, however, offered to give up all right of
presentation in future, if they were allowed to
present on that occasion ; which was agreed to,
and thus the Doctor got the living.
The Doctor, beside his living, had a very good
estate ; but as he was in a manner entirely devoted
to books, or acts of charity and public good, he
left the management of his income, both ecclesias
tical and temporal to his wife, a lady well qualified
for the business, as she was happily of a different
turn of mind from him. Mrs. Madden was also
in a high degree possessed with what we call family-
pride. Her grand-father, it seems, had been
lieutenant of the tower of London in the civil wars
of Charles I, which made her assume a haughty
superiority over most people that approached her.
The place of their abode was called Manor-water-
house, and is situate three miles from Newtown-
Butier. Here Skelton lived as private tutor in
his rector's family, having three or four boys to
instruct in EngHsh, and the rudiments of the Latin
and Greek languages. His situation here was not
over pleasant, for he had great trouble with his

42 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
pupUs, and especially with the mother's pet, who
took great airs on him, and was very hard to rule.
But Skelton would not be guided entirely by the
mother's odd whims ; he insisted on having the
management of the boys to himself, and she on
the contrary was very unwilling to grant it. He
thus had frequent bickerings with her, as ladies in
such cases often interfere from a mistaken affection
for their chUdren.
Being confined with his pupUs the whole day
until evening, he then went out among the neigh
bours, when he used to say, " thank God it is
evening, I have got loose from jail."
While he was thus busily engaged with his
tuition, he was obliged every week to write
a sermon, which he was forced to compose in the
school-room among his pupUs, who were constantly
plaguing him with their exercises, lessons, or
brangles with each other. His situation here, it
must be owned, was not very favourable for study.
To complete all, he durst not, in making his
sermons, borrow a word from any book but the
bible. For his pupUs, he said, watched him with
hawk's eyes, so that if he had any other book but
the bible before him they would immediately have
given it out through the whole parish, that he
copied and preached other men's sermons ; which
would surely have prejudiced against him the
common country people, who would rather hear
any nonsense of our own, than the best sermons

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 43
of the most famous writers. I remember a sen
sible man, a dissenting minister, who attempted
to read a chapter or two of the bible every Sunday
to his people ; but they began all to cry out against
him, saying, give us something of your ain, we can
read the bible our seis at hame. Mr. Skelton was
obliged then to draw all his sermons out of his
own head, which was too much disturbed by his
pupils to be in a state fit for composition. It
cannot therefore be expected that these sermons
were very perfect in their kind ; indeed he often
declared, that in a year or two after they seemed
so very nauseous to him, that it was as good as
a vomit for him to read them. It is fortunate for
a writer to see the defects of his own oi^pring, to
which so many authors are blind.
At that time, he began to perform some of those
wonderful acts of charity, for which he was so
remarkable during the rest of his life. The salary
derived both from the cure and tuition, consider
ing the trouble he had, was but very small. Yet
he gave at least the half of it away, hardly allowing
himself clothes to put on. The following instance
of his charity while there is weU worthy of notice.
Returning from church one Sunday, he came to
a place where a cabin with three chUdren in it had
been just consumed by fire. Two of the children
were burned to death ; the third shewed some signs
of life, but was so horribly scorched, that the skin
came off a great part of it. The poor people he

44 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
saw in want of linen to dress its sores, and, touched
with compassion, stripped off his clothes, and
tearing his shirt piece by piece gave it to them, as
he found it necessary, till he scarce left a rag on
his back.
Dr. Madden was, if possible, as charitable as he ;
his wife who knew his turn of mind, and was of
a contrary disposition herself, took care to keep
his pocket empty of money, for she ruled him with
absolute sway. A poor woman came up to him
one day asking for charity ; he put his hand in his
pocket and found he had no money. At a loss
how to relieve her he gave her a pair of new gloves
he happened to have, desiring her to go and pledge
them for bread.
Mr. Skelton, when he lived here, published an
anonimous pamphlet in Dublin, recommending
Dr. Madden's scheme for establishing premiums
In Trinity College. This production, being prob
ably the first of his that appeared In print, was
sent immediately to the Doctor, who was highly
delighted with the compliments paid him by the
author, which he justly deserved, on account of
his endeavours to promote the interests of litera
ture and of the poor. When he had slightiy
looked over It he brought it into the school-room
to Skelton, with joy in his face, and said, he had
just now received from Dublin one of the finest
pamphlets that ever was written, and must
immediately solicit the acquaintance and corre-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 45
spondence ofthe author. Accordingly, he prepared
a very complimentary letter addressed to the un
known author, requesting he would tell his name
and honour him with his acquaintance. This letter,
being approved of by Skelton, was sent to the
printer of the pamphlet, who returned an answer
in a few days from the author, expressing the high
sense he entertained of the great honour intended
him by the good Doctor, but that he was under
the necessity, for some reasons he could not
mention, of concealing his name at present. This
answer was shown to Skelton, who was the
Doctor's confidant on the occasion, and seemed in
no wise concerned during the whole progress of
the business. A second still more pressing letter
was sent to Dublin, and an answer with a civil
refusal, returned: As Skelton judged it for his
advantage not to discover the secret. Thus the
Rector and Curate, one from the study, and the
other from the school-room, in the same house,
continued for a whUe, by the medium of a Dublin
printer, this odd sort of correspondence. All this
time, he never suspected the person whom he
complimented so highly, to be his own curate,
and the private tutor of his chUdren. If he had,
possibly he might not have been so very respect
ful in his language, for people are not too apt to
be over complaisant to those whom they look on
as their dependants, however superior they be to
them in learning and abUities, which in this country

46 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
are but little valued, unless dignified by the station
or fortune of the possessors.
Dr. Madden, as I understood from Mr. Skelton,
was a gentleman highly esteemed in those times.
And justly too, if a life spent in the practice
of every private and public virtue entitle a man to
the esteem of those who reap the benefit of his
services. To the exertions of this worthy man
we owe the establishment of the Dublin Society,
the advantages of which have been so often ex
perienced. Mr. Skelton saw a letter of Swift's to
him, he said, in which he set forth in his usual
querulous strain, the miseries and calamities of this
unhappy country, saying, that the Irish were the
most lazy, roguish, worthless people on earth, and
that he would do no more for them. The Doctor,
as well as our great countryman, had a real regard
for Ireland, and strove, as it appears, according to
his abilities, to serve it. It being customary for
him to go among the nobility and gentry soliciting
subscriptions for useful purposes, he met with an
odd reception in Dublin on an errand of this sort
(as Mr. Skelton informed us) from a late noble
man, a famous member of the heU-fire club. His
Lordship, on being told that the Doctor was in the
parlour, shrewdly guessing at his business, imme
diately stript himself stark naked, and, in this state,
came running into the room with out-stretched
arms, saying, " worthy Dr. Madden, I am glad to
see you, how do you do ? shake hands with me

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 47
Doctor, when I heard you were here, I was in
such a hurry to see you, that I would not wait to
put on my clothes." The Doctor shocked at the
wild spectacle, leapt up, and was for hastening
out of the room ; but his Lordship stopped him
saying, " my dear Doctor, don't be in a hurry, teU
me your business, I would be glad to do any thing
to serve you." The Doctor pushed past him, but
his Lordship accompanied him to the street door,
where he stood for some time as a show to the
people passing by.
He had the good fortune, when he lived at
Dr. Madden's, to get acquainted with the Revd.
William Leslie, Rector of the parish of Ahavea,
a man of admirable sense, and complete knowledge
of the world, for whose advice and friendship he
was grateful ever after. His prudent and wise
directions served to regiUate the tenour of his
youthful conduct. He called him his second
father, and consulted him on every emergency.
He declared he was the most sensible man he ever
knew, and owned the many advantages he derived
from his friendship. When he was Rector of
Pettigo, this good clergyman on his death-bed
recommended his grand-chUdren to his protection,
of whom he took a paternal care during his life.
At that time, his age and condition required
a good advice. His situation at Dr. Madden's
was not at all enviable. He was quite weary of
his tuition. The lady ofthe house was proud and

48 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
parsimonious, and ruled her husband with supreme
authority, who seldom interfered in domestic
concerns. She wished also, it appears, to extend
her dominion over Skelton, and prescribe to him
how he should teach her children. This, it may
be supposed, one of his spirit would not tamely
submit to. Besides, she was highly offended with
Skelton for exciting the Doctor, by his example,
to acts of charity, to which indeed he was suffi
ciently inclined of himself Of consequence, she
strove to vex him, and make his situation as un
pleasant as possible. In this state of pennance he
continued for two long years, but was at last, for
the sake of quiet, forced to resign the cure and
tuition, and depend on providence for his support.
On leaving Dr. Madden's he repaired, as usual,
to his brother's in Dundalk, where he staid but -
a few months, untU he got a nomination (in 1732)
to the cure of Monaghan in the diocess of Clogher,
from the Hon. and Revd. Francis Hamilton the
Rector. He took his diet and lodging in the town
of Monaghan with a Francis Battersby, and in five
years after with a George Johnston. In obtaining
this cure he succeeded according to his wishes.
His active and benevolent mind could not brook
being confined to a school-room. He longed for
leisure to pursue his favourite study of divinity,
and to employ himself as a minister of a parish.
His inclinations were aU spiritual, and, he only
desired an opportunity of being more extensively

THE LIFE OF SKELTON.

49

useful ; for long before he had fixed his thoughts
on the rewards of a better world than the present.
Yet, at the very beginning, he was in danger of
being turned out of his new cure. Dr. Sterne, the
Bishop, whom Swift succeeded in the deanery of
St. Patrick's, being rather an old man, of an odd
temper, and a little credulous, was then imposed
on by some one who told him, that Dr. Madden
turned Skelton out of his family, for striving to
entice his daughter to marry him. The Bishop,
believing it to be so, refused to license him for the
cure of Monaghan ; on which he went to him to
justify himself, hoping his Lordship was not
offended at any conduct of his. " Ah, you're
a sly dog (said the Bishop) you wanted to gain
the affections of Dr. Madden's daughter, and get
her to marry you ; you are a handsome fine fellow,
like your brother, who, you know, enticed a gentle
man's daughter." Skelton requested his Lordship
to apply to Dr. Madden himself, and inquire if
he did so. The Bishop accordingly asked the
Doctor, who said the whole was false, and that
Mr. Skelton's conduct in his family was most
honourable. He then gave him the license desired.
He related most candidly the whole of the affair
respecting his brother aUuded to by the Bishop.
His brother Thomas, before he got the smaU
living of Newry, happened to be tutor in the
family of Mr. Lucas of Castie-Shane, a gentieman
of fortune In the county of Monaghan. He was,

50 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
It seems, a handsome agreeable young man, and
the Squire's daughter fell in love with him. When
he obtained the parish of Newry, he used to go
frequently and see the family ; but perceiving the
young lady's partiality for him resolved to stay
away in future. After an absence of four or five
months, at last, on receiving many invitations, he
paid them a visit again. The young lady took
then an opportunity of openly declaring her passion
for him, telling him, he was the cruelest of men.
Skelton, who had a real affection for the amiable
girl, assured her, he would suffer any thing for her
sake ; the matter being thus settled, he carried her
off and married her. His brother PhUip, who
knew all the circumstances, said he would have
been a bad man if he had not. The Squire was
highly enraged at his daughter's marrying a person,
whom he looked on as an inferior, and would never
see either him or her, or give her a penny of
fortune. The husband therefore, as he had no
other income, was obliged to maintain on his
small parish a grand lady accustomed to high life,
which pinched him not a little. However she
continued but a short time with him ; she died of
her first child, and left behind her a daughter, that
got her fortune amounting to 1300/. who is the
present Mrs. Ennis, a lady eminent for her piety.
Thomas Skelton was afterwards married to Miss
Huston, who, if now alive, would be aunt to the
Lord Bishop of Down. By her he had a son who

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 51
died of a fever after he arrived at manhood. His
third wife, for he had three, was widow Carleton
mother to Sir Guy Carleton, now Lord Dorchester.
Sir Guy's future eminence in the world was owing
in a great degree, I am told, to the care which his
step-father Thomas Skelton took of his education.
PhUip Skelton lived also on terms of intimacy with
that great General, so distinguished for valour,
conduct, and humanity. He has recommended
young soldiers to him, and his recommendation
always proved of advantage to those who obtained it.
His brother John of Dundalk married a Miss
TurkU. Doctor Skelton of Drogheda is his son,
a gentieman highly esteemed in his profession,
who has now forty pounds a year profit rent from
a part of the family farm. His father made
a decent fortune by teaching. Mr. Skelton had
also a brother called Robert, an excellent scholar,
who married some person of low station, when he
was on the point of going to the college. This
put a stop to him in his literary progress. He
was a man of a singular character, of strong natural
parts, but too much addicted to drunkenness.
His two other brothers, Richard and James, were
decent country farmers. It is indeed surprising,
that the father of these, who was but a plain honest
countryman, should give such education to so
many of his children. But this, among others,
Is a proof of his extraordinary good sense and
prudence. D 2

52 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
Mr. Skelton entered on the cure of Monaghan
with that eager zeal for the salvation of souls,
which a warm sense of duty only could inspire.
He felt the weight of the obligation imposed on
him. Well assured that he must be accountable
hereafter for his discharge of the awful trust
committed to his care, he resolved to act as
became one, whose hopes and fears were placed
beyond the grave. Having now got rid of a
troublesome tuition, which before had obstructed
him in his pious exertions, he gave up all his
thoughts and time to the instruction of his people.
Their spiritual and temporal welfare was, I may
say, the sole object of his care. He laboured hard
in his ministry; he visited them from house to
house, without distinction of sect ; he conversed
with them freely, mingling entertainment with his
Instruction. The chUdren he catechised every
Sunday evening in the church, and when they
became thoroughly acquainted with the original
catechism, as in the prayerbook, made them learn
the proof-catechism, which confirms and illustrates
the doctrines of the other by texts of scripture.
On a particular evening in the week, which he
appointed, he invited people of every age to his
lodgings, that he might instruct them in religion.
And thus, by his means, they obtained a knowledge
of their duty. I was told in Monaghan, that the
children there knew more of religion at that time,
than the grown up people in any of the neighbour
ing parishes.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 53
In the pulpit he displayed that strong and manly
eloquence, which arrests the attention of the
hearers. He was neither a dull drowsy lecturer,
who sets the congregation asleep, nor one of your
smooth pretty preachers, that tickle the ear of the
frivolous and vain. No, he despised such modes
of instruction. He explained to his hearers in
plain and powerful language the threats and
promises of the gospel ; he declared to them the
indispensable conditions of salvation ; he placed,
like a faithful servant of the Lord, heaven and hell
before their eyes, and left them to make a choice
for themselves. His large gigantic size, his strong
expressive action, his clear distinct delivery, his
power of changing the tone of his voice, and
features of his face, to suit his purpose, and above
all, the sincerity of his heart, made an irresistible
impression on his hearers. They were insensibly
carried away with him, they were astonished, they
were convinced.
His life was conformable to his preaching. It
was a pattern of every virtue, it was decorated with
piety, chastity, humility, and charity. For this last
mentioned amiable quality he was eminent perhaps
above aU others in Ireland. Being born, as he
supposed, for the use of the poor, he exerted all
his endeavours to mitigate their sorrows. A great
part of his annual pittance he gave them, and
often scarce allowed himself even the necessaries
oflife. Some particulars ofhis remarkable charities

54 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
I shall relate in the sequel of this narrative. His
life and preaching were attended with the suc
cess he desired. The manners of his people
were in a short time greatly improved, and
vice and ignorance retreated before so powerful
an opponent.
His fixed salary for the cure was 40/, which,
considering the cheapness of the necessaries of life
in those times, was equal to double the sum now.
The whole of this he got from his Rector, as the
curates in assizes-towns had then, I am informed,
no stipend allowed them for attending the jaUs.
Yet with this he contrived to do wonders ; for he
avoided all unnecessary expence, accounting him
self answerable to God for every penny he spent.
He kept no horse, but performed in general the
duties of his parish on foot. Now and then, how
ever, when it was absolutely requisite, he obtained
the loan of a horse from some of his parishioners,
and especially from a widow in Monaghan who
was often kind to him on these occasions. After
paying for his diet and lodging, he gave, I am told,
his mother out of his pittance ten pounds a year,
to help to support her and the children, and used
to visit her at Derriaghy every Christmas, and give
her this sum in return for a pair of stockings she
made him. Yet this donation could not be always
regular, as he was obliged, for some time, to pay
his tutor Dr. Delany a certain sum every year.
He usually travelled aU the way to Derriaghy on

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 55
foot, to save money for her, and the poor. His
two brothers the clergymen were also liberal to
their mother. He generally preached two Sundays
at Lisburn church, when he paid these visits of
fUial duty, and always brought thither a crowded
audience ; for the people flocked from all quarters
to hear him. His mother died in 1748.
About the time he got the cure of Monaghan,
he made up twenty pounds for his part of his
sister Frances' portion, who was married (in 1732)
to one John Arbuthnot near Dromore, who dealt
in linen cloth. His brother Thomas gave thirty
pounds more. Her husband died about ten years
after. She bore him six children, all of whom
died before they arrived at years of maturity,
except one daughter, who was married to James
Mussen a farmer. 1 was well acquainted with his
sister the widow, who some time after her husband's
death came to live in Dromore. In her person and
features she bore some resemblance to her brother,
and was also agreeable, sensible, pious; admired
for her conversation, and respected for her virtue.
In the latter part of her days, she was afflicted with
a disorder in her stomach, which she endured with
christian patience, for, amidst her sufferings, she
was cheerful, contented, resigned. This at length
put an end to her life, in March 1783, in the
seventy fourth year of her age. It was remark
able that untU her death she could read the
smallest print in a newspaper without spectacles.

56 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
A maiden sister, Mrs. Nanny, as we caUed her,
who was older than Mr. Skelton, lived with her in
Dromore. She had lost her sight many years
before I was acquainted with her ; yet, though she
was quite blind, she wished to make us believe she
could see. In company she has remarked to
a lady beside her, " this is a pretty colour in your
gown, it is finely shaded." She said to me
once, " this is a pleasant sunshiny day, the volun
teers looked very handsome to day, their arms
gUttered beautifully." Her vanity in this par
ticular made her liable to mistakes ; she has often,
on my coming to see her, caUed me by a different
name, yet, when undeceived, would never acknow
ledge her infirmity. She came once into a very
smaU parlour, and pretending to look about her
said, " this is a fine spacious room." Mr. Skelton,
who was sensible of her weakness, spoke of her
thus, " I have a poor old blind sister living in
Dromore, who has the vanity to make us think
she can see, God help her poor creature." She
died in October, in the same year with her sister
Frances, having lost the use of her limbs some
time before. Her funeral was decent, at her
brother's expence, who had contributed sufficientiy
to the support of his sisters, all of whom, and of his
brothers, were now dead. Immediately on her
decease I wrote to him in Dublin, and received
from him a letter by return of the post, of which
the following is an extract.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 57
''^ Dear Burdy, October 16, 1783.
" He would be a cruel brother that could
" wish his sister a longer continuance in such
" misery, as my poor Nanny endured for the
"greater part of her last year, at least. My
" words cannot express the sense I feel of my dear
" Hannah's * tenderness towards both my sisters,
" particularly the last, that lay in such a miserable
" plight so long on her hands. Half a year's rent
" ofthe house I an still debtor for to her 2/. lOJ. and
" for funeral expences, as before for poor Fanny's
"remains, 5/. 135. 9^. making in all 8/. y. ^d. If
" Mr. Agnew f) to whom my best wishes, will be
"so good as to pay her that sum, or the il. \os.
" for rent, and draw on me in favour of any one in
" Dublin, his draft shall be honoured the instant
" I receive it. Probably he advanced the funeral
" expences himself, if she did not take them out of
"the 14 guineas I sent her by him. Hannah
" is the best judge of the maid's attendance, and
"trouble, and may either give her the lU. odd
"money included in the 14 guineas, or keep
" them to herself If she gives them to the maid
" she shaU be no loser by so doing. If I shall die
" worth any thing, she wiU find herself entitled to
* Hannah Arbuthnot, niece by the husband to widow Ar
buthnot, his other sister.
t A relation of mine, who acted like a son towards Mr.
Skelton's two old sisters living in Dromore.

58 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
" a considerable proportion of it, and be punctually
paid by my sole Executor Dr. Hastings." * * *
************** Here he quits the subject of his sister's death,
and mentions some particulars respecting myself,
with expressions of resentment against certain per
sons, which it is more prudent to omit at present.
" However (he continues) the Dean is still our
" man, on whom we may build some hopes. On
" the good providence of God I still buUd higher.
" My poor endeavours shall never be wanting as
"long as the old head shall keep above ground.
************** " God bless my dear sister Hannah,
" I am most affectionately your's,
"PHIL. SKELTON."
He calls Hannah Arbuthnot his sister for her
tenderness to his two old sisters in their sickness.
Afterwards he thought it best to give her and
James Mussen, who, as already mentioned, was
married to his sister Frances' daughter, the sum,
in his life-time, which he intended to leave them in
his will. Having given this information concern
ing his sisters, which seemed naturally to succeed
in the course of my narrative, I now return to his
life. The money which he gave his mother, or paid
his tutor Dr. Delany, left him, we may suppose.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 59
but thirty pounds of his salary ; with this he had to
pay for his diet and lodging, and give charity to the
poor ; a duty, as is well known, he was most scru
pulous in observing. These generally got all from
him except what barely afforded him the neces
saries of life, of which he often pinched himself to
supply their wants. Upon urgent occasions, when
the pittance he could give was not sufficient to re
lieve their distress, he applied to people of fortune
who usually contributed according to his desire.
For who could refuse a character so exalted, that
first gave all his own before he would ask any of
theirs ?
He was particularly attentive to the state of the
prisoners in the jail, whose situation renders them
so helpless. To quit the gay scenes of the world,
and plunge ourselves into such gloomy cells to com
fort the afflicted, is surely one of the most humane
of all offices. On examining the jaU of Monaghan
he found, that the poor prisoners were often cheated
of their proper allowance of bread. But he took
care soon to rectify this and every other abuse ; so
that the condition of the prisoners there was in his
time as comfortable as could be expected. To
those who were condemned to die, he was a faith
ful instructer, affording such advice and consolation
as was suitable to their melancholy state.
He was once very successful in his endeavours
to save the life of a convict at Monaghan, of whose
innocence he was weU assured, that was condemned

6o THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
to be hanged in five days. He set off immedi
ately for Dublin, and travelling without delay, on
his arrival there went to the Privy CouncU which
was fortunately sitting. He was admitted, pleaded
eloquentiy before them the cause ofthe poor man,
obtained his pardon, and like a good angel, returned
to Monaghan, with the happy news, before the day
of the execution arrived.
While he was thus seeking for opportunities of
doing good he met with one John Burns in that
town, a boy who was born deaf and dumb.
Touched with compassion at his unhappy state, he
Instructed him carefully in the christian religion,
for which he was prepared, by having been taught
to read and write a littie while before. Some years
after, John Burns published a book by subscription,
at six shillings price, entitled a Chronological His
tory of the world, by which he made a good deal
of money. Mr. Skelton, it is supposed, helped him
to write this book, that he might thus get relief
when he was in great poverty, and procured him
many subscribers. I dipt a little into it, and found
it to be a registry of remarkable events, which
might be consulted on occasions, but could not be
read over without disgust. He keeps now a little
shop in Monaghan. Having the curiosity, when
I was there, to go and see him, I perceived he was
a remarkably inteUigent man. I was told that
Mr. Skelton taught him to read and write, but his
wife undeceived me, assuring me, that he only

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 6i
instructed him in religion, after he was prepared
to receive it.
His endeavours to convert one Craven in the
same place, a notorious sinner whose wicked life
gave offence to every sober christian, were attended
with equal success. When he went to him and
told him his business, warning him of the danger
ofhis evU ways, the man was so desperately wicked,
that he took a spit, and ran at him to stick him.
Skelton was forced then to make his escape. How
ever he had the courage to go back again, and at
last, after much danger and difficulty, by long per
severance, by his awful lectures, and the divine aid,
brought him to a sense of religion, and made him
a good christian. He produced indeed a sensible
reformation in the manners of his people, thirty
or forty of whom usually attended prayers on
a weekday ; which, if one may judge by his own
experience, seems almost incredible.
When he had acquired sufficient knowledge in
divinity for instructing his people, he applied him
self, as his father on his death-bed desired him, to
the study of physic. For three years, he informs
us *, he was employed at this useful science, and in
this particular also was well qualified to serve his
poor parishioners, whose lives were often sacrificed
by ignorant quacks. Before he ventured to pre
scribe, he consulted a physician of eminence how
he should conduct himself in so nice a point. The
* Skelton's woiks, Vol. 7, page 365.

62 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
physician then gave him this advice, " Sir, I advise
you not to prescribe, unless you are sure you
understand the disorder, and that the medicine
wUl be of use. As for myself, physic is my trade,
and when I go to see a patient, I am forced to
prescribe something, should it be even brick-dust,
to preserve my character, otherwise the people
would imagine I had no skUl ; but as you are
under no such necessity, you may do what is
best." He took the physician's advice, and by
this means was of great use to his parishioners, for
he cured many, and killed none, which but few of
our Doctors can boast of.
He used once an extraordinary application to
effect a cure on a poor woman at Monaghan, who
was somewhat wrong In the head. Being sent for
to visit her in the capacity of a clergyman, he went
walking with a long pole in his hand ; and when
he got to the cabin, was shewn into a sort of a room
where she lay. " What ails you, my good wo
man ?" he said to her. " Oh Sir !" she answered,
" there is a little woman with a red cloak and
a black bonnet that haunts me night and day,
wherever I go, and gives me no peace. " Where
is she now ?" he said to her. " Oh Sir ! there"
(pointing with her hand) on the bed-post, " looking
straight in my face." " Stand off all of you," he
said to the people about him. Then he took the
pole and whirling it round his head, hit the post
a smart stroke with it, and made it crack again.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 63
" Where is she now .?" " Oh Sir ! there, on that
sod in the corner of the roof;" pointing to it.
" Stand off," he said again, then whirling the pole
as before, he hit the sod a harder blow with it, and
knockt the greater part of it down on the floor.
"Where is she now.?" "Sir she Is just on the
cupboard there, looking at me." " Stand off all
of you ;" then he struck the cupboard with such
force as to break the tea-cups on the shelves.
"Where is she now .?" "Oh Sir ! she just flew
out of the window." Thus he cured her of her
delirium. He was also sent for again to visit a man in the
same parish affected with a similar disorder.
When he came into the room where he was, which
happily had an earthen floor, he saw him sitting on
it with the coals of the fire all about him, in littie
heaps here and there, as if he were roasting pota
toes. "What are you doing with the coals .''" he
said to him. " I am roasting devUs," he answered.
" You ought rather man," said Skelton, " to get
some water and duck them, for fire is their own
element." " I believe so," replied he. However,
he humoured him so well, that he got him both to
eat and sleep before he left him, which he had not
enjoyed the benefit of for some time before.
Having wrought these cures on persons disor
dered in their brain, he tried his skill upon an hypo
critical enthusiast at Monaghan, a weaver who,
pretending a divine mission, set up to preach a new

64 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
religion, and drew some of his people after him,
chiefly by wearing a white hat. While a parcel of
them were about him one day, Mr. Skelton came
up to them and said, "David, why do you wear
the white hat?" "Because PhUip," replied he,
" I have no money to buy any other." "Well
well, David," he said, " if I buy a new half-guinea
black hat for you, will you wear it .''" He returned
no answer. "David, I say, will you wear it.''"
Still he continued silent. " My friends (Mr. Skel
ton said to the people) you see all his religion is in
the white hat, he'll not part with it, take away that
mark of distinction, and then there will be no more
virtue in his religion." The people being convinced
by what he said quitted their new teacher, who was
forced to go home to his trade.
Though Mr. Skelton was usually employed in
the serious business ofhis profession, he could now
and then relax from such severity, and partake of
innocent amusements and exercise. There were
few, it appears, equal to him in the manly exer
cises ; for in size, strength, and activity, he was su
perior to most men. He told me he has lifted
up some huge weights, which no ordinary person
could move. In the walks of the plantation at
Monaghan, he threw the sledge and stone, played
long-bullets on the public roads, and performed
many other manly exercises. He could wind a fifty
pound stone round his head without any difficulty,
which shows the amazing strength ofhis arms. He

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 65
found it requisite indeed, even then, to make use
of his hands to chastise the insolent.
One Sunday after church riding along with
a lady to a gentleman's seat some distance from
Monaghan, he came up to a parcel of tinkers on
the road, whom he heard uttering horrid oaths, for
which he rebuked one ofthem in particular in these
words, " Sirrah it would be more fit you had been
at divine service than be thus profaning the Lord's
day." The fellow gave him a saucy answer and
continued cursing as before. He then threatened
to correct him if he would not desist, which made
him more profane and abusive. Skelton could
bear no longer, but leapt off his horse and struck
him ; the rest took his part, but he soon beat him
and the whole troop of tinkers. He thus made
them sensible of their crime by the only argument
of which a tinker could feel the force. Then
mounting his horse, he rode hastily off with the
lady to the gentieman's house to which he was
going, that he might be there before they should
hear of it. But with aU his speed it got there
before him, and immediately on entering, they com
plimented him on his boxing and beating the tinkers.
He exerted his courage again on a similar
occasion. A young officer, proud of his red coat,
which he had just put on, came into the hall of an
inn, while he, being then on a journey, happened
to be in the parlour, and to shew his cleverness,
feU a damning the waiter, and let fly a volley of

66 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
horrid oaths. The waiter then began a damning
and cursing in his turn, and thus they were going
on, when Skelton, coming out of the parlour, told
the ofiicer, that he was a clergyman, and that it
was very offensive to him to hear such horrid
swearing, and begged he would desist. The officer
then said to him, " G. damn you for a scoundrel
curate, what is it to you .''" Skelton gravely replied,
" young man this is not proper language to one of
my profession, merely for giving you good advice."
" Damn your profession, you puppy you, (for he
thought Skelton was afraid) you deserve to be
kicked for your impertinence ;" and then uttered
some blasphemous oaths. " Well Sir," said Skelton,
" since fair means will avail nothing, I'll try what
foul can do." Upon this he fell to him with his
fists, and cuffed him through the hall of the inn,
and soon cooled the captain's courage, and made
him quiet and submissive. Thus he chastised the
mUitary man for his profaneness, exerting his
valour in the service of God and religion.
It appears indeed he was fond of paying visits,
and, among others, sometimes visited Dr. Maul,
that worthy Prelate, who, when Bishop of Dromore,
lived in the old see-house at Maheralin *. He
once borrowed a horse from a Mr. Wrightsome of
Monaghan to go thither. This horse being slipt
in the back by the carelessness of some of his
Lordship's servants, the Bishop gave him another
A small village in the county of Down.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 67
one in exchange which was not quite so good.
But afterwards, as a recompence to the man, he
bestowed on him his sermons.
Mr. Skelton set out In his ministry in the
character of an avowed champion of the orthodox
faith. Deriving his religious principles from the
pure source of information, the holy scriptures
themselves, he could find in these no real ground
for the opinions of our modern refiners. Conse
quentiy he declared open war against aU Arians,
Socinians, and the like, considering it his duty to
attack boldly these adversaries to truth ; and pub
lished several anonymous pieces against them.
He found leisure, he said, amidst aU the duties
of his profession, " to switch the Arians now and
then." These littie productions, and others of
his on different subjects, were published by
a printer's widow in Dublin, who having a just
sense of honour, would on no account discover
his name. She had therefore the talent of secret-
keeping from which some morosely exclude the sex.
Some of his productions were of a temporary
nature, and of consequence were not republished
by himself in his works, of these it cannot be
expected I should take a regular notice.
In 1736, he published a pamphlet, the titie of
which is A vindication ofthe Right Rev. the Lord Bishop
of Winchester is'c. A book entitied A Plain Account
of the Nature and End of the Lord's Supper was
ascribed to his Lordship. In this he asserts, that
E 2

68 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
consecration of the elements is without scriptural
precept or example, and that this sacrament is
intended merely to commemorate our Lord's
death. Here he insinuates, that no previous
preparation, or resolution of amendment of life,
is necessary for receiving the sacrament worthily.
Skelton, under a pretence of defending his cha
racter, exposes him. "It is very unjust," he says,
" to suspect that a Right Rev. Prelate, who is more
pious, judicious, orthodox ahd learned, than any
that ever was, or ever will be, who has sworn and
subscribed to all our articles, and has so tender
a conscience, should be capable of writing so bad
a book. It is a scandalous age, that ascribes such
a work of darkness to such an apostolical messenger
of light." Then he answers all the arguments
produced 'by the Author in such a manner as to
satisfy any reasonable reader.
This production was very pleasing, it seems, to
Dr. Sterne the Bishop of Clogher. When he
read it, he sent for him, and said . to him, " Did
you write this Mr. Skelton .''" shewing him the
little piece. Skelton gave him an evasive answer.
"Well well, " he said, "'tis a clever thing, you're
a young man of no fortune, take these ten guineas,
you may want them." " I took the money (he
observed to me) and said nothing, for I was then
a poor curate."
He published in the same year Some Proposals
for the Revival of Christianity. The design of this

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 69
piece is to ridicule the infidels and enemies of our
church. The great objection, as they think, which
many have to the christian religion in this country
is paying tithe to support the clergy, who do not
deserve them. He therefore comes into their
scheme. The church must be destroyed, the
clergy turned out, hanged or banished, or if some
choose to have any, they must live without food
or clothes, the Bible is then to be burnt, and
Magna Charta of course. Then a pure Christianity,
free from any low temporal motives, will take its
place. This scheme might possibly suit the refined
notions of the present day. His ridicule, however,
is in general too clumsy to have any effect.
Some one of Swift's friends carried this pamphlet
to the Dean in Dublin to find out if he wrote it,
every anonymous production of any tolerable merit,
on its first coming out, being then fathered on
him. He was like a country squire famed for
getting children, who has generally all the bastards
in the parish laid to his charge. Yet he formed
a determination to which he strictly adhered, not
to acknowledge or disavow any anonymous per
formance, on his being asked if he wrote it, and
therefore, when Skelton's piece was brought to
him, only said, after reading it over, " the author
of this has not continued the irony to the end."
In 1737, he published a. Dissertation on the Consti
tution and Effects of a Petty Jury. Trial by a petty j ury,
according to the present mode, is, as he Imagines,

70 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
a temptation to perjury, and the chief cause of the
general corruption of manners which prevails in
these kingdoms. He therefore advises, that a
curious sort of ballot should be substituted in its
place, which he thinks would produce most happy
effects, and recommends it to parliament to have
his scheme made a part of our constitution ; the
members who would be active in effecting this
should, he says, be justly called the preservers of
their country. This piece is written with sufficient
sense and perspicuity ; the inconvenience that
attends forcing people by hunger and other uneasy
sensations to be of one opinion is clearly pointed
out. Yet I doubt if the chief corruptions, of
which he complains, be owing to a petty jury ; for
we see other countries, where this mode of trial
does not subsist, at least as faithless and wicked as
our own.
Soon after this pamphlet was published in Dub
lin, the Attorney General, stopping his carriage
at the printer's, inquired who the author of It was .''
The woman, as she was desired, refused to teU.
" Well," he said, " give my compliments to the
author, and inform him from me, that I do not
think there is virtue enough in the people of this
country ever to put his scheme into practice."
Mr. Skelton had, I understand, a ready turn at
composition, having often composed, as he told
me, a long sermon in twelve hours, which was no
ordinary day's work. To write a sermon well is

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 71
possibly more difficult, than to compose equally
weU any other piece of prose of the same length.
The biographer and historian have materials pro
vided for them ; their business then is only to
arrange with skUl, and express with perspicuity.
The sermon-writer, beside this, must find out
m.aterials for himself. He must therefore exercise
his invention, no easy employment, which the
others need not. WhUe he is thus employed, he
must use also his judgment, in choosing or rejecting
amidst the wild variety his imagination presents.
He must examine into the different motives and
actions of men, restrain their unruly appetites by
showing the consequence of indulgence, set before
them their real interests, apply to them by powerful
arguments, and find out, if it be possible, the avenue
to their hearts. He must fight against the passions
and prejudices of the human race ; he must strive
also to make a man war with himself, and tear out
from his breast every corrupt desire. A biographic
or historic composition, though but indifferently
executed, often engages the attention of the reader
by the facts it contains ; but in sermons, or works
of morality, or disputation, which consist more of
arguments than of facts, the readers' attention
must be secured chiefly by the abUity of the
composer. His fame as a preacher and a writer, his extra
ordinary care as an instructer of a parish, and
his wonderful acts of charity and goodness, began.

72 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
about the year 1737, to be the subject of conver
sation, not only in the diocess of Clogher, and
other parts of the North, but also in the metropoUs.
He had then some reason to expect a degree of
attention from his Bishop suitable to his deserts.
But here he was unhappUy disappointed. He
saw living after living given away ; but there was
no notice taken of him. The Bishop of Clogher,
Dr. Sterne, usually sent for him, after he had
bestowed a good preferment upon another, and
gave him, by way of a sop, ten guineas, which
Mr. Skelton frequently made a present of to a Mr.
Arbuthnot, a poor cast off curate, who was unable
to serve through age and infirmity. He never
asked, he said, his Lordship for any thing, but he
thought his works should speak for him. " Men
of real merit (he remarked) are always modest and
backward, but blockheads tease bishops, and give
them no peace, till they get something ; they
therefore usually prefer them to get rid of them."
Non missura cutem, nisi plena cruoris hirudo.
About the year 1738, his first Rector the Hon.
Francis Hamilton left Monaghan, on obtaining a
benefice in the same county, and the living of
Dunleer. A Mr. Douglas then got Monaghan by
exchange, a man of a weak constitution, whose
death, it was expected, would soon make a vacancy.
Dr. Sterne, the Bishop of Clogher, gave it ap
pears but little encouragement to literature. Mr.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 73
Skelton said, that he promised some clergyman in
his diocess a living, upon condition of his writing
a treatise to prove, that man could scarce know
more of his duty than a brute without the assist
ance of revelation. The clergyman who, I believe,
never wrote the piece, advised Skelton to do it as
he had a ready pen ; but Skelton, though his
opinions inclined that way, having no offer of the
same sort from the Bishop, thought it best not to
volunteer himself in the cause. He had little or
no expectations from his Lordship ; the prefer
ments were given away to persons whose quali
fications were different from his. Of this neglect
he could not be insensible ; for a man of learning
and abUities must surely be offended to see the
dull and the illiterate placed over his head in a
literary profession. He resolved therefore to quit
his diocess, where his merit was overlooked, as
soon as an opportunity offered. This happened
in a short time.
Dr. Delany, who, as I mentioned before, was
his tutor in the college, perceiving his unpleasant
situation in the diocess of Clogher, procured for
him an appointment to the cure of St. Werburgh's
in Dublin. This was extremely agreeable to Mr.
Skelton because he would then have a wide field
to display his eloquence, which before was con
fined within too narrow a compass. His friend
Dr. Delany could also more conveniently recom
mend him there, on account of his abUities, to the

74 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
notice of the great. These reasons struck Mr.
Skelton very forcibly, and inclined him to go to
St. Werburgh's. He had then, he said, a fair op
portunity of speedy promotion, if he had embraced
it, but unhappily he did not. Who can foresee
every instance of human infidelity ? When he was
just on the point of quitting the diocess of Clogher,
the Bishop perceiving it would be to his discredit,
that a person of such abUities should leave his
diocess for want of due encouragement, and in
fluenced also by another motive, which I shall
mention afterwards, sent a favourite clergyman to
him with a message to this purpose, " that if he
staid in his diocess, he would give him the first
living that should fall." Skelton depending on his
Lordship's word (for what could be more sacred
than the promise of a bishop .'') informed his friend
Dr. Delany, that he would not take the cure of
Werburgh's, but that he would continue in the
diocess of Clogher, on the Bishop's promise of the
first living vacant. Accordingly, the cure of
Werburgh's was otherwise disposed of Skelton's
only dependance now was upon the Bishop of
Clogher, who was bound by every tie of honour to
provide for him. But his notions of honour were
not over nice. I am sorry that my regard to truth
obliges me to own his Lordship broke his word.
The first living that fell was that of Monaghan (in
1740) where Mr. Skelton was Curate, and his
Lordship, disregarding his promise, gave it to his

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 75
nephew Mr. Hawkshaw, a young gentieman who
had lately entered into orders.
When he bestowed the preferment on his
nephew, he said to him, " I give you now a living
worth three hundred a year, and have kept the
best Curate in the diocess for you, who was going
to leave it ; be sure take his advice, and follow his
directions, for he is a man of worth and sense."
Hence it appears, that his Lordship made his
promise with a fixed determination to break it.
He expected from Mr. Douglas's state of health
that the living of Monaghan would soon be vacant,
and he was resolved in his mind to give it to his
nephew, but he wished to have Skelton to assist
him, and feared, lest his leaving the diocess in a
huff might bring censure on himself ; he therefore
fixed on the scheme of sending the divine with
a promise in his mouth, which he never intended
to perform. Every circumstance relative to this
affair I mention upon the authority of Mr. Skelton
himself, from whom I have heard It above twenty
times. Mr. Hawkshaw, who is still alive, is a
gentieman of too much honour to deny it. Yet
it is but justice to own, that no blame can be laid
to him. Possibly he did not know of the Bishop's
engagement with Mr. Skelton ; or if he did, where
is the man that in such a case would refuse a
good living when it is offered to him.'' By his
conduct afterwards to Mr. Skelton it appears, that
he thought him injured, or at least well worthy of

76 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
a higher station in the church, for he treated him
with singular respect and esteem.
Mr. Skelton did not bear his Lordship's breach
of promise with remarkable temper. He expressed
his resentment with great plainness, " God forgive
me," he used to say, " I railed against him most
violently, but he did not regard it; his station
placed him far above me, and what did he care for
the censure of a poor curate .'' " He never attended
a visitation during the remainder of his Lordship's
life, which continued for a series of years. The
Bishop never asked for him, nor seemed surprised
at his absence, for his own breast told him the
cause of it. After his promise to him, he disposed
of many livings without offering him one of them.
" I saw then," said Skelton, " sorry fellows, time
after time put over my head, but I could not mend
myself, though it vexed me more than it ought."
It appears that the sense of his injury had some
effect on his patience. He was then a young
man ; his temper was warm, his notion of honour
just and pure ; he expected that the conduct of so
dignified a personage as a Bishop should be regu
lated by the same principles as his own. His dis
appointment in this particular, especially as it
touched him so closely, made him express his
resentment against the person that deceived him.
All this was the natural and necessary effect of
the injury he sustained.
The respect, which Mr. Hawkshaw entertained

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 77
for Mr. Skelton his curate, was shown on his first
obtaining the living. He said to him, " Sir, I am
but a very young man, and you are fit to direct
me, give me your advice and I'll do whatever you
desire me." This showed him to be a young man
of a noble and ingenious disposition, which he
displayed in the whole of his subsequent conduct
towards Mr. Skelton. Under such a rector, he
must have been as happy as the condition of a
curate situated as he was could admit.
Mr. Hawkshaw, who was himself scrupulously
attentive to his duty, told me, Mr. Skelton gave
him the clearest ideas of the duty of a clergyman
that could possibly be conceived. He was often
forced, he said, to steal to attend the sick, as
Mr. Skelton would be angry at him if he would
not let him go himself A noble emulation between
a rector and a curate.
Though Mr. Skelton strove to act so consis-
tendy with the character of a clergyman, yet he
could not escape the censure of the sour fanatic.
One John Porter, a presbyterian church-warden,
coming in on him on a Sunday morning, when he
happened to be shaving himself, seemed surprised,
and told him it was a shame for one of his coat
to shew such a bad example. " Well John," said
he, "if you think it is your duty, present me."
" I believe I wiU," he replied. At the visitation,
he asked the Bishop, if a clergyman could be pre
sented for shaving himself on a Sunday .'' The

78 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
Bishop said he thought not ; this made John stop
his proceedings.
However, he was actually presented to the Bishop
for abusing a Mr. Wrightsome at a vestry, where
parishioners usually display their eloquence. A
vestry being held at Monaghan a short time before
to bring an overseer to an account, who had
the management of some repairs in the church,
Wrightsome (who formerly lent him the horse)
openly insulted him there before all the people.
Skelton then told him, shaking his fist at him out
of the reading-desk, that if he had him out of
that place he would chastise him for his insolence.
This gave rise to the charge laid against him, which
set forth, " that he was a wrangling, buUying
clergyman, and a dangerous man to deal with, as
he would readily strike any one who seemed
offensive to him." The Bishop disregarded their
accusation, which was drawn up by one Littie, who
was rebuked by Mr. Skelton and Mr. Hawkshaw
for getting bastards. The common report is, that
he leapt out of the reading-desk, and cuffed
Wrightsome in the aisle. But a person of veracity
who was present assured me, that he only threatened
him in the manner I have mentioned.
At another vestry he was almost involved in a
serious quarrel with a Major of the army. The
Major having affronted him there, as he thought,
when he came out of the church, he threw off his
gown, and challenged him to fight him, " but the

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 79
Major (he remarked to us in conversation) though
he was one of the bravest men on earth, treated
me with contempt ; for he scorned to fight a clergy
man." He thus candidly allowed him his merit.
He always spoke with horror of his conduct on
that occasion, and begged God's pardon, pleading
as an excuse the violence of passion, which hastily
hurried him on to give the challenge. For in his
serious and sober days he had an utter aversion to
duelling, which he considered as sacrificing one's
soul at the shrine of false honour.
He related a curious remark of Swift's upon an
affair of honour of this nature. A friend came
one morning to see the Dean In Dublin. The
Dean bade him sit down. " No," he replied,
" I cannot stay, I must go immediately to the park
to prevent two gentlemen from fighting a duel."
"Sit down, sit down," said the Dean, "you must not
stir, let them fight it out, it would be better for the
world that aU such fellows should kill one another."
The strict attention that Mr. Skelton paid to
the duties of his profession prevented his being
engaged in the softer concerns of human life.
I question if he ever was really in love, though it
is allowed he had a variety of sweethearts. He
seems indeed to have been proof against the fas
cinating charms of the fair, whose gentle weapons
have conquered the greatest heroes and philo
sophers, and made them submit to their yoke.
Monaghan was the scene of his loves, and possibly

8o THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
a short account of these may not be unentertaining
to my readers.
He was once courting a young lady, and when
they were just on the point of being married, she
said to him one day, " my dear, as you are but a
poor curate, how will you provide for our chUdren ?"
" Why my love," he answered, " suppose we have
three sons, I'll make one of them a weaver, another
a taylor, and the third a shoemaker, very honest
trades my jewel, and thus they may earn their bread
by their industry." " Oh ! " she replied, "never will
I bring forth chUdren for such mean occupations."
"Well then," said he, "I have no other expectations,
and of consequence you and I wiU not be joined
together, for between your pride and his poverty
poor PhU. Skelton will, never be racked." Thus
the match was broke off. Soon after this one
g * * g * * ^ ^j^g fellow with a gold-laced waist
coat paid his addresses to the young lady, who
was so much captivated with his appearance, and
especially with the waistcoat, that she instantly
married him without once inquiring how he would
provide for her chUdren. However, they lived
very unhappUy ; he starved her, and she cuckhold
him, and turned out a whore and a drunkard.
Skelton often thanked God he did not get her,
observing that he had a fortunate escape, for she
would surely have broke his heart. If she had
married him, he said, she would have got rough
plenty, but she preferred the man with the gold-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 8i
laced waistcoat, and was thus deceived by outward
show. He paid his addresses once, he told me, to a
young lady, who, in her conversation with him,
began to talk boastingly of her great family, say
ing what grand relations she had, and the like.
" Upon this (he remarked to me) I found she
would not answer for a wife to me ; because she
would despise me on account of my family, as my
father was only a plain countryman, and therefore
I thought it best to discontinue my addresses for
the future."
Again, he was courting another young lady,
and was just going to be married to her ; when
he happened to find a gay airy young fellow in a
private room with her, and then in his rage took
the beau with one of his hands and held him up
before her, as you would a puppet, and carrying
him to the stairs, let him drop down. When he
had thus punished my gentleman, he broke off
from the lady in a passion, and would never visit
her again in the character of a lover. His brother
Thomas strove to dissuade him from this odd
resolution, teUing him he ought to think the more
of the young lady for having many admirers.
But his advice did not avail, for he was rather
obstinate on the occasion, observing, that if she
were fond of him, she would have no famUiar
intercourse with another.
He seemed indeed once to have had an ardent

82 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
passion for a Miss Richardson, for in his eagerness
to see her, he rode cross the lake of CoothiU in
the great frost, without perceiving he was riding
on ice. However, we may suppose his fondness
soon began to cool. His being a curate, I should
think, made him cautious of plunging too deep into
love. He knew that marriage must have confined
him StiU more in his charities, which were always
nearest to his heart ; unless he could get a good
fortune by it, a boon seldom conferred on one ofhis
station. He therefore strove to keep down his
passions by abstinence, and lived for two years at
Monaghan entirely on vegetables. I was told
indeed that he would once have been married to a
young lady, had he not been disappointed of a living
that was promised to him. He had however pure
and refined notions of love ; nor did he, like some
others, affect to ridicule that gentle passion. He
thought it cruel of a parent obstinately to thwart the
affections of a child ; unless there was a glaring
impropriety in the choice. " Poor things (he used
to say of two lovers) since they love one another,
they should let them come together, it is a pity to
keep them asunder."
In 1 741, he published the Necessity of Tillage and
Granaries in a Letter to a Member of Parliament.
The art of cultivating the ground, next to the care
of our souls, is certainly the most useful to man.
Consequently, any piece of writing, which has
agriculture for its object, is worthy of attention.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 83
The estate of the member of parliament, to whom
this letter is addressed, lay in the South of Ireland,
which, though of a soil admirably fit for tillage,
by a pernicious sort of management, was applied
almost entirely to grazing ; and its condition is yet
too much in need of improvement. In this letter
he shows by the strongest arguments the excellence
of agriculture over pasturage, advising the gentle
man of fortune, from motives of private interest, to
encourage the one in preference to the other. As
a consequence of the neglect of tillage, and the want
of public granaries, he takes notice of a horrible
famine that prevailed in this country for the two
years before he published his letter. "It was com
puted, that as many people died of want, or of dis
orders occasioned by it, during that time, as fell by
the sword in the massacre and rebellion of forty one.
Whole parishes in some places were almost desolate ;
the dead were eaten in the fields by dogs for want
of people to bury them." A shocking picture of
national calamity. This letter proves his know
ledge in agriculture, and contains many exceUent
precepts, which, if put in practice, would help to
civUize the South of Ireland, that Is sunk in idle
ness and sloth, and ready on every occasion to
burst forth into acts of violence and disorder. Its
style is remarkably perspicuous, though somewhat
tinctured with vulgarity, which might possibly be
owing to the nature of the subject it treats of It
has, however, been remarked by some judges of
F 2

84 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
agriculture, that many of his calculations in favour
of the farmer will not hold good in practice.
In the same year he published, in the transactions
of the Royal Society, a piece entitled a Curious
Production of Nature. It gives an account of a great
number of caterpillars, that crawled (in 1737) on
some trees in the county of Monaghan, leaving
behind them a fine sUken web on the bark of the
trees. Some of these continued for two years, but
were mostly all destroyed by the frost in the
terrible winter of forty. Many distempers, he
imagined, are owing to invisible insects.
About this time he was nearly brought into a
scrape by an anonymous publication. His brother
Thomas having a quarrel with one Steers, who
first carried on the Newry canal, prevailed on him
to write a pamphlet against him, which was very
severe, and vexed Steers so much that he threatened
a prosecution. The printer told him he must
for his own sake declare his name ; on which
Mr. Hawkshaw advised him to conceal himself,
until the storm would blow over, an advice which
he found it prudent to take. However, the man's
passion cooling after a while, he ventured then to
come out from his retreat.
Having now given up all hopes of preferment
from the Bishop of Clogher, he accepted (in 1 742)
of the tuition of the present Earl of Charlemont.
Mr. Hawkshaw advised him to make a trial of it,
as it might tend to advance him in the world.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 85
offering in the mean time to keep the cure open
for him. His tuition seemed at first so agreeable
to him, that he wrote to Mr. Hawkshaw to dispose
of the cure of Monaghan, for he would stay where
he was on account of the civUity he met with.
Accordingly, Mr. Hawkshaw began to look out
for a curate, and had nearly fixed upon one, when
he received a letter from Skelton, informing him,
he would quit the tuition and resume his cure.
This sudden change of sentiment in him it is
necessary to account for.
Mr. Adderley, who had married Lady Charle
mont, and was guardian to the minor, on her
death, would lose his place if he could not procure
sufficient security. He applied to Skelton, who,
by his acquaintance with one Law, Cashier to the
Bank of Fede and WUcocks, got that Bank to
promise to give security. At this time, the Bank
of Mr. Dawson offering the same, Mr. Adderley
gave it the preference. Skelton was angry at him
for putting him to so much trouble, and then
making a fool of him. This was the beginning
of their quarrel. He also it seems gave Lord
Charlemont some advice that was disagreeable to
Mr. Adderley*.
This little dispute with the guardian producing
some Ul humour between them, Skelton deter-
* This intelligence relating to Mr. A. I received at Mo
naghan from a person, to whom Mr. Hawkshaw recom
mended rae to apply for authentic inforraation.

86 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
mined to resign the tuition, and took the follow
ing method to give him warning of his intention.
Mr. Skelton, and he, and some more company
sitting one day after dinner over a glass of wine,
Mr. Adderley said to Skelton, who was tedious in
drinking his glass, "you are hunted Mr. Skelton ;"
"Yes Sir," said he, "I have been hunted by you
this some time past, but you shall hunt me no
more." Accordingly he gave up the care of his
Lordship's education, and returned to his cure.
It appears, that even then Mr. Skelton had a
very high opinion of Lord Charlemont. Soon
after he left him he published (in 1 743) Truth in
a Mask, with a dedication to this Nobleman. At
the beginning of it he says, " it was for many and
weighty reasons, which in charity he forbears to
mention, that he chose to quit him so soon."
Though he owns no blame can be laid to his
Lordship. It is easy indeed to observe by the dedi
cation, that he looked on Lord Charlemont in his
juvenUe years to be far superior to the generality
of our young Irish Lords ; nor has the maturer
age of this venerable nobleman disappointed the
expectations formed of him in his youth. The
advantages derived to this kingdom from his
exertions, and from those of the illustrious armed
patriots, who chose him their commander, men
who sacrificed private ease and profit to the public
good, are too weU known to be dwelt upon here.
His reason for writing Truth in a Mask, which

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 87
consists of thirteen AUusions, is thus expressed in
the dedication; "I have found by experience,
that the naked truth is displeasing to most people,
and even shocking to many. I have therefore in
the foUowing AUusions given religious truth such
a dress and mask as may perhaps procure it
admittance to a conference with some of its opposers
and contemners." He mentions also the example
of our blessed Saviour, who gained an admission
to the human heart by his parables. His aUusions
however, he says, " cannot be understood without
a competent knowledge of Church History, and
a near acquaintance with the present reigning
controversies in religion ; so that, as they are
calculated for the perusal of the learned and judi
cious alone, it is not to be hoped they wiU please
many." Yet I doubt if they~ ever proved as
agreeable even to the leamed and judicious reader, as
the Author expected. Their meaning is often too
dark ; the things to which they allude are not
shown with sufficient clearness. In compositions
of this sort, which proceed whoUy out of an author's
own brain, it requires great art to make them
palatable. Their intent is to expose the absurdities
of Popery, and false principles of Arianism. Yet
the dedication prefixed, which contains some admir
able advice in very forcible language, is more
worthy of being preserved than any ofthe Allusions.
On leaving the tuition of Lord Charlemont, he
returned, as already mentioned, to his cure, which

88 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
was kept open for him by his indulgent rector
Mr. Hawkshaw, and applied busily as before to
reading and composition. While he was a curate,
and engaged thus at close study, he was offered a
School worth five hundred pounds a year arising
from the benefit of the scholars. But he refused
it, as his accepting of this oflfice must have put a
stop to him in his progress to literary improve
ment. He had marked out for himself several
useful compositions which he intended to pubUsh,
few or none of which could ever have been com
pleted, had he embarked in the tumult of a public
School. The noise and hurry of such a place are,
it is well known, adverse to study, which requires
silence, quiet and calmness. How could we settle
ourselves to composition, if a parcel of clamorous
boys were bawling about our ears .''
I nunc et tecum versus meditare canoros.
It was remarked to him by some of his friends,
that he might sit in a private room at his studies,
and leave to his ushers the chief trouble of the
school, which he might visit occasionally, as it
would suit his convenience. But he said, he could
not in conscience take the money, without giving
up his whole time and attention to his scholars ;
which would prevent him for executing the plan
he had formed.
About this time he was walking on the road
near Monaghan, when a fine dressed servant came

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 89
riding up to him, and asked him if he knew a
Mr. Skelton .'' He said he had a right to know him
a little for he was the man himself The servant
then gave him a letter he had for him signed * * * *
a lady of good fortune, who told him that her
dear husband was just dead, and as she had more
dependance on him than on any other man alive,
she begged he would come to her family to teach
her children for which she would allow him an
ample salary, and also sufficient leisure to pursue
his studies. The offer appearing advantageous
required some consideration. He therefore in
formed the lady by the servant, he would give
her a positive answer in a day or two. The rest
of the day he passed in anxious thought ; at
night he lay sleepless in bed, without forming a
fixed resolution ; towards morning he fell into a
doze, and saw clearly, he said, a vision which
determined his choice *. He saw, he assured us,
the appearance of a wig-block rising by degrees
out of the floor of his room, which continued thus
to rise tiU it got above the floor, and then moving
back and forward, said in a solemn voice, " Beware
of what you are about," and sunk gradually
down. He was thus warned by the awful vision.
Instantly he went to the lady, and told her he
could not leave his cure. She expressed her
sorrow at his determination, but requested he
* This is somewhat on the marvellous, but I give it as I
got it.

90 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
would look out for some one, who, he thought,
would suit her purpose. He promised to do so,
and in a short time brought her a gentleman every
way qualified. When she saw him, she took
Mr. Skelton aside, and told him, she had no objec
tion to the gentieman but one ; and that was, he
was too handsome, which would probably cause ill
natured people to throw reflections on her character,
as she was a young widow. She therefoire requested
he would get her some other one more ordinary.
Accordingly he procured her one who answered
her description. But, as Skelton remarked, "she
married him in two years, in half a year after she
cuckhold him, and then I saw her with my eyes a
beastly drunkard." Thus the wig-block warned
him of his danger.
In 1744, he published the Candid Reader, ad
dressed to his terraquous Majesty, the World. This
production is among the best ofhis short occasional
pieces. In his attempts at wit he is tolerably
successful. The objects of his ridicule are Hill the
Mathematician, who proposes making verses by an
arithmetical table. Lord Shaftsbury, and Mr. John
son, the Author of a play called Hurlothrumbo.
The paraUel he draws between the Rhapsody of
Lord Shaftsbury and the Hurlothrumbo of Johnson
appears somewhat pleasant and judicious.
In the same year, he also published a letter to the
Authors of divine Analogy and the minute Philosopher;
from an old officer. This is a plain sensible letter.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 91
The veteran, in a miUtary style, advises the two
polemics to turn their arms from one another
against the common enemies of the christian faith.
The year 1 745 was remarkable, it is well known,
for an attempt made on the religion and liberty of
these kingdoms. At this season of general com
motion, Mr. Skelton published his short piece
entitled Chevaliers Hopes. It is a bold animated
production fraught with excellent advice ; but
appears by its style to have been written in a
hurry, to suit the circumstance of the time, which
was too confused to afford leisure for a polished
composition. It shows, that the Pretender had no
real hope of success but one — the horrible wicked
ness of these kingdoms, which might justly bring
down on them the divine vengeance.
The people, he said, in many parts of the North
were possessed then with a terrible dread of the
Highlanders, whom they expected every day to
come over on them. At that time, he told us,
a doughty captain of mUitia and his men were
parading and exercising on a rainy day to prepare
for combat, and when they had finished their
manoeuvres, went to a public house to regale them
selves, and dry their clothes, and were sitting at
the fire burning their shins, and boasting of what
feats they would do, when the woman of the house,
who happened to be out, opening the back-door,
shouted to her husband, "Johnny, Johnny, here
are the Highlanders at the back-door." On this

92 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
the captain and his men all started up, and ran out
of the other door in dread of their lives, leaving
their arms behind them. They ran near a mUe
cross the country, without looking back, until at
last, hearing no shots, nor any one pursuing, they
ventured to look back, and found all was quiet.
Their fears it seems put a wrong interpretation on
the good woman's words. Her Husband had lately
got from the Highlanders two Scotch ponies,
which to distinguish them they called Highlanders.
These having a few days before strayed to the
adjacent mountains, could not be found untU
the rain brought them home ; and the woman
rejoiced to see them shouted to her husband,
"Johnny here are the Highlanders at the back
door ; " which the militia men supposing to be
the real Highlanders took to their scrapers to save
themselves, and thus were frightened away by two
Scotch ponies.
Bishop Sterne having about this time finished
his earthly career, the See of Clogher was conferred
on Dr. Clayton, the notorious Author of the Essay
on Spirit. His Lordship being a professed Arian
In principle, it could not be expected that there
would be a close coincidence of opinion between
him and Mr. Skelton. Whenever they happened
to come into contact, they were generally in each
others hairs, to use a boxing phrase. The Bishop,
as it may be supposed, always gave the first blow,
and Skelton stood resolutely on the defensive.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 93
The polemic weapons were handled on both sides
with sufficient skiU ; probably to the amusement
of the standards by. But the Bishop in dignity of
character and station had the advantage over poor
Skelton, whose only dependance was upon the
strength of his arguments. He told me, the
Bishop once made a speech to him a whole hour
long against the Trinity, to which he was forced
to listen with respectful attention. " I was then
on the watch," he observed, " to see if I could
catch hold of any thing the Bishop said, for I knew
I would not be aUowed to speak five minutes in
my turn, as I was but a poor Curate." Accordingly,
he perceived some flaw in the Bishop's arguments,
and when he had finished his oration, asked his
Lordship how he reconcUed that with the rest of
what he said, for he appeared to contradict him
self.'' His Lordship, who never suspected the
weakness of his own reasoning, seemed startled at
Skelton's objection ; but when he pressed him,
according to the Socratic mode, with the absurdity
of his own arguments, his Lordship was left in
a hobble, and had nothing to say. Mr. Skelton
told me all the particulars of this dispute with the
Bishop, which I cannot now recollect, but I know,
I was convinced at the time, that Skelton had
gained a complete victory. Yet, however honour
able all this might be to Mr. Skelton, or consistent
with his duty, it could not at all be conducive to
his private interest. Every victory of this sort

94 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
gained by a Curate over a Bishop, like that of
Pyrrhus over the Romans, tends only to lessen his
power, and may probably defeat him at last. The
livings, as usual, were given away to others, and
no notice taken of Skelton, who had then suffi
ciently distinguished himself by literature.
His constitution, he imagined, was impaired by
the unlucky accident he met with at the long-
buUets, and hence he became afterwards liable to
the hips *, a disorder which continued to increase
on him. Once, whUe curate of Monaghan, he was
strangely affected by this imaginary malady. Mr.
Hawkshaw and his lady going to Manor-water-
House took him in their carriage along with him ;
but he had got only a short way on the road when
he told them, that he was just on the point of
death, and begged they would stop the carriage
and let him out, that he might die in peace. He
repeated his request three or four times without
effect, for Mrs. Hawkshaw, who knew his little
weakness, would not humour him in his notions.
Her refusal, as it was expected, helped to cure him
of his disorder, of which he got quite free before
he arrived at the place appointed f. The most
sensible men are liable to some infirmities, which
* Hips is a cant word signifying an hypochondriac com
plaint, with which the person possessed imagines himself sick
when nothing ails him.
t I was told this anecdote at Monaghan, but not by Mr.
Hawkshaw.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 95
shows they are not excluded from the general lot
of humanity.
He used to pay frequent visits to old Archdeacon
Cranston, who lived near Monaghan, and generally
walked to his house with a cudgel in his hand.
One day, whUe he was thus equipt, he was attacked
at the door by a huge mastiff, which he kept off
with his cudgel after many attempts to get on him.
This amused the old Archdeacon and Mr. Hawk
shaw, who were looking on at the diversion.
The old Archdeacon had weathered it out then
a long time. His death it seems had been often
wished for, but this did him no harm ; he lived, if
possible, the longer on that account. Mr. Skelton
said to him one day, " you have lived a long time.
Sir, in the diocess of Clogher, and I dare say you
have seen many changes in it." "Oh yes (he replied
in a drawling voice) I have seen a great many
changes in it ; I remember about twenty years
ago, the Bishop of Clogher of that time had a fine
young man a nephew, whom he wished to promote
highly in his diocess, and had given one good
living already, which it seems was not enough for
him, for he was going to get him married to Squire
Knox's daughter of Dungannon. Upon this he
told the Squire, that, beside the living he had, he
would get my living, as I was just going to die ;
but you see I have long outiived the nephew, and
his uncle the Bishop too." " Well Sir," said
Skelton, " would you be content to die now ? "

96 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
" Why, if I could live till after the next crop
would come in, for the sake of my friends, I would
not care much." I then asked Mr. Skelton if he
got the next crop ? " Yes he did," he answered,
"and another one too, and then he died."
He also went as often as convenient to see
Mr. Pringle of Caledon, about ten miles from
Monaghan, where he spent his time very pleasantly.
On his first coming there he had a curious adven
ture which deserves to be related. Mr. Pringle's
father, who was then alive, being very old and
doting, was unfit to manage his house, which was
left to the direction of his son, who in fact was
master of all. Consequently, he had a right to ask
what company he thought proper. This gentleman
invited Mr. Skelton to dine with him, and Arch
deacon East, who had lately come to the parish,
telling them his father was doting, and not to
be offended at any thing he said. When he
introduced the Archdeacon to his father, he said,
' ' father this is Archdeacon East the clergyman of
the parish, who has come to dine with us to day."
" Ay ay," observed the old man, " come East,
come West, come North, come South, you all
come here to fill your bellies." When dinner
was brought in the old man refused to sit at
the table with them, but took his seat in an ad
joining room with the door quite open, where he
watched them to see how much they would eat.
Mr. Pringle placed Skelton just opposite the door.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 97
desiring him to eat voraciously, and take large
mouthfuls. Accordingly he began to devour up the
dinner, as if he were starving, stuffing his mouth
with huge lumps of meat and bread. The old
man staring at him a while, at last cried to his son,
"Johnny, Johnny, see that feUow, he'U eat you
up." Skelton then shouted out aloud to the
servant, " give me a tumbler of wine," whispering
to him to put some water in it. " Ah ah ! " the
old man cried, " a whole tumbler of wine, Johnny
don't give it to him ; where did you come from.
Sir ?" After dinner, Mr. Skelton brought him
a glass of wine, and bowing presented it to him,
which he snapt from him, and drank up most
greedily. When he gave it to him again, he said
to him, "what trade are you. Sir .'' " " A gospeUer,"
replied Skelton. "A gospeller, a gospeller, what
trade's that .'' " " A preacher of the gospel."
"Ah man ! " he said, "that's a brave trade, I thought
you were a pedler." In the evening a fine lady
happened to be in company with him, who took
great airs on her, but he soon said to her before
a room full of people, " Madam, you are flanting
about now with your fine dress, and think your
self so great, but I remember your father a poor
servant in the country here." The old man, it
seems, though he was doting, hit upon the truth.
Mr. Pringle in his will appointed Mr. Skelton
executor to his chUdren, an office which he dis
charged with great fidelity, as his son the present

98 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
Mr. Pringle of Caledon assured me. I question
if he ever committed with his knowledge a single
act of injustice.
Some years after, a Mr. Clarke, who had married
his brother Thomas's daughter, made him executor,
leaving his fortune at his disposal. To the widow,
who, I believe, had no chUd, he gave as much as he
thought just, and the rest to the Clarkes. This
lady was afterwards married to Mr. Ennis an
attorney. Lord Orrery, when he lived at Caledon-castle,
often invited Mr. Skelton to come and see him.
Once his Lordship did him the honour to dine
with him at his lodgings in Monaghan, a short
time before he went to London to publish Deism
Revealed. This was a work, he thought, of too great
importance to be published in Ireland, and there
fore resolved to take it to London. Accordingly,
his Rector having offered to do duty for him in
his absence, and pay him his salary, he set out for
that metropoUs (in 1748) to dispose ofit. In this
expedition he was accompanied by a Mr. Thompson
a clergyman. Having taken Oxford in his way, he shewed his
production to Dr. Connebear. This good man,
who himself stood forth a strenuous supporter of
our faith, after slightly looking over the m.anuscrlpt,
approved of it as far as he went. He then took
down from his library the Essays of Mr. Hume,

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 99 '^
whose curious method of weighing evidences, as a
small dealer does his ware, is so much admired by
his ingenious disciples. " Have you seen these,"
he said, "that were lately published .''" Mr. Skelton
replied he had not ; but on reading parts of them
here and there, he remarked that he had anticipated
answers to the chief of Mr. Hume's objections.
However, in compliance with Dr. Connebear's
desire, he introduced Hume's cavils about a
ballance, and answered them on the principles of
common sense, which that gentleman, in his refine
ments, seems to have forgot. It is still to be
lamented, that the enemies of truth are often
superior to its friends in clearness of expression,
and elegance of style, the chief requisites of an
agreeable writer. The defenders of our holy
religion, depending on the strength of their
arguments, have sometimes paid too little attention
to arrangement and perspicuity. Whereas the
advocates for infidelity, who are destitute of solid
arguments, endeavour to make amends for this
defect, by the beauty of language, and aUurements
of eloquence, which, Uke the voice of the Syrens
of old, are only designed to charm us to our ruin.
" What's the reason. Sir, (I said to Mr. Skelton
once) that these deistical writers Hume, Boling
broke, and Gibbon are so clever, whUe their
opponents, worthy good clergymen, are often
inferior to them In point of composition ? " " Do
you think," he replied, "the DevU ever sent a
G 2

100 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
fool of his errand ? " He then remarked, that
God Almighty often made use of weak instruments,
like him, in the support of his religion, to shew,
that with the most puny defenders, he could over
come all the strength of his enemies. For the
weakness of God is stronger than man.
Upon Mr. Skelton's arrival in London, he
brought his ^ manuscript to Andrew Millar the
Bookseller, to know if he would purchase it, and
have it printed at his own expense. The Book
seller desired him, as is usual, to leave it with him
for a day or two, until he would get a certain gen
tleman of great abUities to examine it, who could
judge. If the sale would quit the cost of printing.
These gentlemen who examine manuscripts, in the
Bookseller's cant, are called triers. " Can you
guess (he said to me) who this gentleman was,
that tried my Deism Revealed.''' " No, I cannot."
" Hume the infidel." He came it seems to Andrew
Millar's, took the manuscript to a room adjoining
the shop, examined it here and there for about an
hour, and then said to Andrew, />n'«A By Deism
revealed he made about two hundred pounds. The
bookseller allowed him for the manuscript a great
many copies, which he disposed of himself among
the citizens of London, with whom, on account of
his preaching, he was highly famed. His powerful
pulpit eloquence, which he displayed in their
churches, brought him into notice. The citizens
of London, to whom he afterwards dedicated a

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. loi'
Volume of Sermons, were, he said, at that time
excellent men, and admirable judges of preaching.
Mr. Thompson and he took lodgings at a noted
Coffee- House, where it seems accommodations of
this sort were to be met with. He had an oppor
tunity, he said, of making many observations on
mankind, during his residence in that great city,
which affords such an amazing variety of charac
ters, and found his understanding to increase
dally by his conversation with people of good
sense and knowledge of the world ; whose obser
vations made him discover many errors and defi
ciencies in his Deism Revealed, which he took
care to rectify and supply, passing after his arrival
there, a great part of his time altering and im
proving it. He spoke always with a degree of
rapture of the citizens of London, from whom he
received many public and private civilities. He
had a letter of credit, he told us, upon a great
merchant there, who, without regarding it, though
it was very good, gave him money on his own
account, saying, " Sir, I am to take as many of
your books as will nearly amount to all this."
One day he went into a jeweller's shop in London
to look at some articles of great value, which he
was commissioned to buy ; and when he told him
he could not purchase them, tiU he would get an
acquaintance of skiU to examine them, the jeweUer,
though a stranger to him, bade him take them with
him, for he had an honest face, and he was sure he

102 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
would bring them back. This was a degree of
confidence which an Irish visitant but rarely
experiences in England.
He remarked, that the London merchants sel
dom had company at dinner, as their business
prevented them from staying to enjoy the glass.
But they made suflicient amends for this seeming
stinginess by splendid and elegant suppers, fur
nished with every rarity and luxury. At these, he
said, he passed many agreeable hours with company
fit to entertain and instruct him. It was pleasant,
he observed, to see merchants, many of whom had
the whole, or at least the greater part of their
property on sea, liable to the mercy of the winds
and waves, relaxing themselves in private with as
much ease and complacency, as if they had not
a ship exposed to the fickle elements.
At one of these entertainments, he happened to
meet with the late Dr. Lowth, who was afterwards
raised by his learning to the bishoprick of London.
Mr. Lowth was then, he said, a tall, thin, remark
ably grave man. When he perceived Mr. Skelton
was a clergyman from Ireland, he told him, he
could have been highly promoted in the Irish
church, but he refused it, as he did not wish to
live in that country. "WeU Sir," replied Skelton,
" there are good pickings in the Irish church, and
some of your countrymen have no objections to
come over and take a large share of them, to the
great sorrow of us poor clergymen natives of the

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 103
land." Mr. Lowth, like every man of genius,
was sensible of his merits, which, he knew, must
raise him in the English church, where learning
and abilities are respected and rewarded. It was
natural therefore, as he had a choice, that he
preferred promotion in his own country. Mr. Skel
ton, with all the world, had a high opinion of that
learned and ingenious prelate, the late ornament
of the English church. " Lowth on the Prophecies
of Isaiah," he said, " Is the best book in the world
next to the bible."
When he was in London, there was a man from
the parish of Derriaghy, he assured us, that passed
there for a wUd Irishman, and was exhibited as
a public show, dressed up with a false beard,
artificial wings, and the like. Hundreds from all
quarters flocked to see a strange spectacle, which
they had often heard of before ; and among others,
a Derriaghy man, who happened to be in London,
came In the crowd, and saw the wUd Irishman,
a hideous figure, with a chain about him, cutting
his capers before a gaping multitude. Yet notwith
standing his disguise, he soon discovered, that this
wild Irishman was a neighbour's son, a sober
civUized young man, who had left Derriaghy
a little before him. When the show was finished
he went behind the scene, and cried out so as to
be heard by his countryman, "Derriaghy, Der
riaghy." Upon this the seeming wUd Irishman,
staring with surprise, spoke aloud, "I'U go any

I04 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
place for Derriaghy." They had then a private
meeting, when he told him, that being scarce of
money, he took that method of gulling the English,
which succeeded far beyond his expectations.
Mr. Skelton, whUe in London, once attended
the levee, dressed in his gown and band. The
King, he said, being unable to lift up his feet as
he walked, was forced to sweep them along the
floor. His Majesty, as he passed him, stopped
a while and looked in his face, which might be
owing to his striking appearance. Some of his
friends then whispered to him, " you are in the
way of promotion, the King has you in his eye."
Possibly his Majesty in his reign promoted persons
less worthy of the royal patronage than the great
and good Mr. Skelton.
He spent a great part of his time in going
through the city purchasing books at a cheap rate,
and laid out on these the most ofthe money he got
by Deism Revealed, which afforded a good library
for a curate. The managers of a Review offered,
he said, at that time, to enrol him among their
number, and give him a share of their profit, on
condition of his staying in London. But he
refused, for he thought an Irish curacy more
secure bread, than the precarious subsistence to
be acquired by criticism.
He went then, through curiosity, to a certain
cheap place to get his dinner, which cost him
three halfpence, for which he got a quart of thick

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 105
soup and a piece of bread. The soup was made
up of broken meat collected from cook-shops,
kitchens, and strolling beggars. However he did
not choose to try the experiment a second time.
He told us of this cheap dinner when he was
teaching a young man to live on littie money in
Dublin. In London he continued about half a year, and
then returned to his curacy in Ireland. At sea,
I am told, he had a dangerous voyage ; the vessel
he sailed in being nearly lost. The newspapers
indeed gave an account that it was wrecked, and
that all on board perished. But it pleased God
to preserve his life some time longer for the benefit
of mankind.
The first edition of Deism Revealed, published
by Andrew Millar, in 1749, is comprised in two
tolerably large octavo volumes. It consists of
eight dialogues ; in the first seven there are four,
and in the eighth only two, speakers. At first
three unbelievers attack one christian, who at last
makes a convert of one of them, a young gentle
man of great fortune, but of good sense and can
dour. In these dialogues, the most of the infidel
objections against the gospel are introduced with
their whole force, and fully and candidly answered.
So that the book is rather a complete answer to
deistical cavUs, than a regular proof of the divine
authority of the gospel. But if their cavUs are
proved groundless, Christianity consequently Is true.

io6 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
The titie oi Deism Revealed shows it was intended
to expose the craft of the Infidels. In this book
there is a great deal of good sense, sound argument,
and original observation. It proves the author
deeply read, and well acquainted with the subject
of which he treats. But it is defective in point of
arrangement ; the matter Is too loosely thrown
together, the arguments do not follow each other
in regular order. This remark, however, only
holds good with respect to particular places. The
style Is also somewhat coarse ; words are uselessly
multiplied, and arguments drawn out beyond their
proper bounds. The author, in his attempts at
wit, frequently fails ; he is merry himself, but the
reader unhappily cannot join with him in the joke.
True wit subsists where the writer is grave, and
the reader merry.
This book was in high repute on its first publi
cation. A second edition was required in a litde
more than a year. Among others. Dr. Delany
admired It, well pleased with the growing fame of
his pupil, to whom he had proved himself so sin
cere a friend. And even now, there is scarce any
man of reading in this country that has not at least
heard of Deism Revealed. A few months after its
publication, the Bishop of Clogher happened to be
in company with Dr. Sherlock, Bishop of London ;
who asked him if he knew the author of this book.''
" O yes," he answered carelessly, " he has been
a curate in my diocess, near these twenty years."

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 107
" More shame for your Lordship," replied he, " to
let a man of his merit continue so long a curate in
your diocess."
The ingenious Bishop of London sent a mes
sage once to inform Mr. Skelton, that he would
promote him in his diocess, if he would write
a book upon christian morals. On which he desired
the messenger to ask his Lordship, what objection
he had to the old Whole Duty of Man ? To this
question he never received an answer. The old
Whole Duty of Man was one of his favourite books.
The style, he said, was admirably qualified for
instruction, being so simple as to be easily under
stood by the most unlearned.
In 1749, he paid a visit to a distant northern
Bishop of great consequence, whose lady was what
you may call, a learned woman, and had such
influence over her husband as often to dispose of
the livings to her own favourites. So that, as
Mr. Skelton remarked, the lady was a sort of
a bishop herself. She was on this account courted
by the clergy who humoured her in all her notions.
She professed herself an admirer of Hutcheson's
System of Moral Philosophy, and the clergy of
consequence approved of her taste. As she had
a respect for Mr. Skelton's judgment, she took
the following method to find out his opinion on
this subject. Having lately got a new book written
by one of Hutcheson's disciples, she ordered it to
be put in the room in which he slept, naturally

io8 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
supposing he would examine it a littie, and he did
so. In the morning, an Archdeacon, by the lady's
directions, came to Skelton's room to sound him
on the book, and asked him carelessly if he had
read any of it ? Yes, he told him, he had looked
into It here and there. He then asked him how
he liked it ? He said but indifferently, for he
thought there was a great deal of nonsense in it.
This brought on a sort of a scuffle between them.
At last Skelton said he would lay him a wager,
open the book at any page he pleased, and he
would show him nonsense in it before he read to
the bottom. The Archdeacon agreed ; and whUe
he was reading the page, Skelton stopped him now
and then, and said, " that's nonsense ;" " yes it is,"
he owned ; and thus he was forced to acknowledge
there was nonsense in every page of it. The
Bishop's lady when she heard how contemptibly
he spoke of the book which she so highly esteemed
could scarce keep her temper ; especially as she
was accustomed to be flattered in her notions by
the clergy, who would never oppose her. She
therefore resolved to affront Mr. Skelton in an
open company, supposing a poor Curate like him
dare not say a word. Accordingly, after dinner,
before the Bishop and a large company of clergy
and others, she said to him, " Mr. Skelton, I heard
you preached in St. James's chapel when you were
in London." " Yes Madam, I did." " WeU sir,
a lady, a friend of mine who heard you, told me

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 109
you preached very absurdly, talking of heU's fire,
and such coarse subjects, as are never introduced
in so polite a place." " Pray Madam, who is this
lady, a friend of yours, that made these remarks
on my preaching ? " " Such a lady. Sir," she
answered, naming her. " Oh !" he said, " she has
a good right not to like sermons about hell's fire,
for she is whore to the Archbishop of York, all
London knows it."
This Bishop, whose lady was so learned, having
a niece unmarried, some people advised Mr. Skelton
to court her and marry her, observing that he
would get a good living by it ; but they could not
prevail on him to seek for preferment from a
connection with that lady.
However, the time of his being promoted above
the humble office of a curate at length arrived.
In the year 1750, a large living fell in the diocess
of Clogher ; and immediately on the vacancy
Dr. Delany and another Bishop waited on Bishop
Clayton, and told him, that if he did not give
Skelton a living now, after disappointing them so
often, they would take him out of his diocess.
The Bishop then gave him the living of Pettigo In
a wild part ofthe county of Donegal, having made
many removals on purpose to put him in that
savage place, among mountains, rocks, and heath.
In the living of Pettigo he succeeded a Mr. Lindsay,
who was removed to EnniskiUen. When he had
got this living he had been eighteen years Curate

IIO THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
of Monaghan, and two of Newtown-Butier, during
which time he saw, as he told me, many illiterate
boys put over his head, and highly preferred in the
church without ever serving a cure.
The name of the parish is properly Templecarn ;
but as the church is placed in the small viUage of
Pettigo, the people by custom call It the parish of
Pettigo. This viUage is situate on the extremity
ofthe counties of Donegal and Fermanagh ; a little
river that runs through It, over which a bridge is
built, separates these counties from each other.
It has a sort of a market on a Monday, and some
stated fairs in the year. Even then there was
probably some culture about this village, but the
parts of the county of Donegal adjacent, and to
a great extent, in which Mr. Skelton's parish lay,
were mostiy wild, mountainous, covered over with
heath. The parish of Pettigo is fifteen miles long,
and ten broad ; of this he had the whole tithes,
and had also a glebe of a hundred and fifty acres
situate in the county of Fermanagh. Yet, strange
as it may seem, tithe and glebe did not on an
average produce two hundred pounds a year.
Possibly he might have scraped up a little more,
had he been rigid in demanding his dues ; though
it Is allowed that scarce a fourth part of the
parish was arable. One Robert Plunket, brother
to the Dissenting Minister, came with him from
Monaghan, and got a cabin in Pettigo, with
some land adjacent. He appointed him his tithe-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. m
farmer, and also agreed with him for his diet and
lodging. The nature of the people was similar to that of
the soU ; they were rough, uncultivated, disorderly,
fond of drinking and quarreUing. Mr. Skelton,
by the account he heard of them, which however
was greatly exaggerated, was really afraid they
would kiU him in that wild country, and therefore
took with him from Monaghan, by way of servant,
one Jonas Good, a great boxer, to defend him ; a
man of a decent family, who had a small freehold
near that town, and yet consented to go with him
through respect for his character. When he was
agreeing with Jonas, he said to him, " I hire you
to fight, at which I am told you are very clever."
The man said he could do a little that way, that
he had never served any one before but the King,
and he would serve him too, he was so good a man.
" Well Sir, you must fight bravely ; when you see
me laying down my hands, be sure do the same,
then strike stoutly, and when I stop, stop you."
The man promised he would do so. To make
him look more terrible, he got him a good horse,
and a military saddle with holsters, in which he
put two large pistols, and equipt him suitably in
other particulars ; though he did not dress him in
livery, but in plain grave clothes. All this made
his appearance decent and formidable, for he was
a large able-bodied man. In their travels he always
rode before him to face the danger, and got all the

112 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
bows, as the people mistook him for the master.
Mr. Skelton gave it out through the country, to
raise a terror of him, that he could easily beat
three or four men, which excited the envy of some
wicked people, who way-laid Jonas at night, and
beat him most shockingly.
His parishioners were sunk in profound igno
rance. One could hardly have supposed, on
viewing their manners, that they were born and
bred in a christian country. Yet many of them
were nominally protestants. Mr. Skelton declared,
they scarce knew more of the gospel than the
Indians of America ; so that, he said, he was a
Missionary sent to convert them to Christianity.
Like others in a rude state, their chief study was
to supply their natural wants, and indulge their
gross appetites. The most of them seemed ignorant
of the use of books, which they thought very few
applied to but for some bad purpose. Mr. Skelton
assured me, that soon after he came to Pettigo he
was reading one evening in his room by candlelight,
with the window shuts open, and heard many
people whispering in the street at his window,
which brought him to the door to see what was
the matter, when he found a whole crowd of
people listening and watching him ; for it seems
they thought he was a conjurer he dealt so much
in books. So true is the observation of Swift's,
Thus clowns on scholars as on wizards look.
And take a folio for a confring book.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 113
Such were the people whom he was appointed
to instruct. To a benevolent clergyman like him
it surely gave concern, to see them In this state of
ignorance and error. He had a wide field for
improvement before him, and began to work im
mediately. He visited them from house to house ;
he instructed them late and early ; he told them
of Jesus Christ who died for their sins, whose
name some of them had scarce heard of before.
In his journies through the parish he took down
the chUdren's names, desiring their parents to send
them to church to be instructed in the catechism ;
and introduced the proof-catechism such as he had
already made use of at Monaghan. During the
summer, whUe he was thus employed, he explained
the catechism on Sundays before all the people,
which served to edify both young and old. At
this lecture or explanation he spent an hour and
a half every Sunday the whole summer season.
He gave the people this instead of a sermon, as it
seemed to please them better, being delivered
without notes, and also remarkably plain and in
structive. He was thus, like Job, eyes to the blind
and feet to the lame. When he had reason to
suppose that the grown-up people were tolerably
acquainted with their duty, by means of his public
and private lectures, and admonitions, he locked
the church door on a Sunday, when he had a large
congregation, and examined them aU to see what
progress they had made under his care in religious

114 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
knowledge. He would not intimate to them the
day he intended to do this, weU knowing, if he did,
that few or none of them would come. He thus
endeavoured to work upon their' shame, which is
often a more powerful motive with men than the
dread of temporal or eternal evils. In time, by
his extraordinary care, he brought these uncultivated
people to believe in a God who made them, and
a Saviour that redeemed them.
Sir James Caldwell's residence being at the
extremity of his parish, he preached once in the
month, on a Sunday, in his parlour, where he had
a tolerable congregation, and used also to examine
the people there in religion. He was once exam
ining some persons' of quality there, when one of
them told him there were two Gods, and another
three Gods, and so on. Such was their ignorance.
One of them indeed who had nothing to say, every
question he was asked, made a genteel bow, In
which he was better instructed than in religion.
In Pettigo the greater number of the inhabitants
were poor catholics living in wretched hovels
among barren rocks and heath ; of whom there
were many real objects of charity, that required
the assistance of the humane. In such a place the
benevolent disposition of Mr. Skelton found fuU
room for exercise ; and I may safely say, that no
human breast ever had more genuine charity than
his. His wonderful acts of goodness will be re
membered for ages in that remote corner of the

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 115
North, and be transmitted from father to son for
successive generations. But a particular display
of them is reserved for its proper place.
On his first coming there, he made an agreement
with his hearers to give as much in charity in the
church, as the whole collection on a Sunday should
amount to. But when he perceived the people
began to give less than what they used, he said to
them, " farewell conjunction for the time to come ;
you are now falling short of what you gave at first,
but you shaU not confine my charity ;" and then
divided his own portion among the poor every
month. He also practised physic at Pettigo as at
Monaghan, and bestowed on his people medicines
that he had procured for the purpose. His medi
cines and advice must have been indispensibly
requisite in a country so uncivilized, where such
assistance could not be easily obtained. Yet In
dangerous cases he would not depend on his own
skill, but sent fourteen miles off to Enniskillen for
his intimate friend Dr. Scott, to whom, for his
trouble in attending his parishioners, he allowed,
I am assured, rent-free, the whole glebe of the
parish of Pettigo, already mentioned, which is now
set for forty pounds a year.
Soon after he got this living, the Bishop of
Clogher let him know by a message, that he
expected he would preach the next visitation-
sermon. Though he was unwilling, as some
H 2

ii6 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
others, wha were promoted before him, had not
then preached, yet he promised to prepare himself
for it. But his Lordship had soon reason to
suspect he would speak some disagreeable truths
in his sermon, and make some sharp remarks on
those clergymen who enjoy ecclesiastic emoluments,
though they disbelieve or oppose the principal
doctrines contained in our articles. Consequently,
as he was afraid, that some of the weapons the
preacher would dart from the pulpit might hit
himself, he began to repent that he had offered to
put him in a situation so convenient for him to
make his attack upon others. His apprehension,
increasing daUy as the visitation approached, caused
him to send to him a favourite clergyman, one
happily of his own religious notions, to inform him,
that the Bishop would not ask him to preach at
the visitation. But having, in compliance with his
Lordship's desire, made a sermon for the purpose,
he told the clergyman, that he had prepared his
sermon, and that he would preach it at the visitation.
The Bishop, it may be supposed, did not interpose
his authority, and therefore he preached his sermon
entitied the Dignity of the Christian Ministry at the
visitation in 175 1. This probably is one of the
best occasional sermons of this sort extant in our
language. Its style is clear, forcible, animated
with true piety. He makes in it a very proper
distinction between the temporal dignity derived
from the possession of worldly goods, and the

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 117
spiritual dignity conferred by Jesus Christ upon
the ministers of his gospel. To quote every
excellent part in this sermon, would be indeed to
quote the whole ; and it is impossible to contract
it, as it contains almost as many thoughts as words.
The Bishop himself, and all double-dealers in the
church got a gentie rub as he passed ; but he
made no personal application. For any further
particulars the inquisitive reader is referred to
the sermon itself
The publication of the Essay on Spirit, which
made a great noise in the world, produced, as
might be expected, some very severe answers.
Mr. Skelton, who apprehended not without reason,
that the Bishop suspected him to be author of some
one of them, wrote him a letter (in 1752) assur
ing his Lordship he was not. He used to say in
private companies, that he would not write against
the Bishop, as he considered himself under obli
gations to him for the living of Pettigo. Yet his
solemn asseverations were not sufficient to remove
his Lordship's . scruples, who notwithstanding,
under pretence of being convinced by his letter,
dined with him afterwards in Pettigo.
The want of rational company seemed to add to
the natural gloominess of the place. Pettigo he
called Siberia, and said he was banished to It from
all civUized society. I heard him often declare, he
was forced to ride seven mUes before he could
meet with a person of common sense to converse

ii8 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
with. He found it necessary, in his own defence,
to take frequent excursions to hear some rational
conversation, and to get rid for a whUe of the
iUiterate people of Pettigo, whose lingo was con
stantly dinned into his ears. Sir James CaldweU,
Dr. Scott, Rev. Dr. Mc. Donnel, Rev. Mr. Wallace,
and some other clergy of the diocess of Clogher,
were the persons he used generally to visit.
Plunket, with whom he lodged, could give him
but one room with an earthen floor where he slept
and studied ; in which he had a screen or curtain
so fixed that he could let it down upon occasions
to conceal his bed. Here Sir James Caldwell, and
other gentlemen of the country, have dined with
him ; for he was always fond of polished society.
His chief meal at that time was his dinner, as he
eat but little breakfast, and no supper ; a sort of
abstinence he found requisite to keep his passions
in due order. He was for the same reason equally
abstemious in sleep as in food ; for he took but
four hours sleep, and passed the rest of the night
in prayer and meditation. Being at that time
unhappily afflicted with religious melancholy, to
which many good men are liable, he was seized
with doubts about his salvation, and in the middle
of the night often fell a crying, imagining he
should be damned, he was so sinful a creature.
While he was in these gloomy fits, he used to
raise the man of the house out of his bed, and beg
of him to waken the rest of the family, that he

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 119
and they might pray with him, as he stood in need
of all good christian's prayers, his case was so
desperate. I heard this from a Lady who slept
in a room adjoining his at the time. The poor
man of the house strove to comfort him, tellins
him he was a pious charitable clergyman, and that
there were few or none as good as he ; so that he
had no reason to have such scruples about his
salvation. These gloomy notions were partiy
produced by his lonely sequestered life, for soli
tude is the parent of melancholy.
He was also at that time, on the same account,
more liable to the hips, imagining often that he
was just on the point of death. One day he told
his servant that his hour was approaching, and
his thread of life spent, and desired him to get the
horses ready, that he might go to Dr. Scott's and
die there. The servant obeyed ; but when he got
a short way on the road, he began to whistie and
sing, and said he was happy. The ride, it is to
be supposed, helped to raise his spirits, an effect
which it is often able to produce.
However, a ride had not always this happy
effect on him. He rode to Dr. Scott's again when
he had the same complaint. The Doctor being
then abroad, Mrs. Scott, on his appearing uneasy,
offered to send for him ; on which he began to
hesitate, now he allowed her ; then he refused ;
and continued in this wavering state until evening,
when he told her, he would die that night in her

120 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
house. This dismal news frightened her so, that
she could not sleep the whole night. She lay in
a room adjoining his, and was always listening if
she could hear him breathe, which he did stoutly
and strongly. The Doctor, who came home in
the morning, on his inquiring into his case, would
prescribe nothing to him but a glass of wine.
Once more he came to Dr. Scott's when he was
similarly affected, accompanied by Robert Plunket
with whom he lodged, and assured the Doctor, as
usual, he would die that night ; but he cured him
by a little wine, and company. In the morning
he sent for a taylor to take his measure for a suit
of clothes, when Plunket coming in observed, that
he thought the undertaker would be taking his
measure for a coffin. He told him, he was growing
better, but if he died, the clothes would suit some
one else.
Another time, while these plaguy hips were on
him, and he was telling the people about him, that
he was just going to die, one Robert Johnston of
Pettigo who was present said to him, "make a
day. Sir, and keep it, and don't be always disap
pointing us thus." This made him laugh, and
shook off his disorder. It may be remarked, that
all this tends to degrade the person whose life
I write ; but in my opinion it only shows, that he
had his own peculiarities, to which great characters
are in general more subject than ordinary men.
The private stills in the parish of Pettigo being

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 121
at that time innumerable, made the whiskey cheap
and plenty, which caused the people to be addicted
to drunkenness, a vice among others prevalent
there. The catholics, who were most numerous,
were chiefly remarkable for this ; though the
protestants, as they called themselves, were but little
better. At burials in particular, to which they
flocked from all quarters, they drank most shame
fully. It was the custom then with them, as soon
as the corpse was buried, to meet all in a field
adjacent to the churchyard, and pour whiskey, like
cold water, down their throats. Twenty gallons of
strong spirits of whiskey have been often drunk at
such a meeting. When their blood was sufficiently
heated by the spirits, they then, as it was natural,
fell a boxing with one another, probably the near
relations of the deceased, and thus cut and bruised
each other most terribly. Many have been killed
at such riotous meetings, either by quarrelling or
whiskey. Mr. Skelton told me a story that marks clearly
the savage manners of the people. One of these
Pettigo men came up to him one day with joy in
his face, and said to him ; " O ! we had the finest
" drinking ever was two or three days ago ; we
"were all drinking in a field after a burial, and
" we drank two or three kegs of strong whiskey.
" While we were drinking the last keg, a poor
" fellow (he said mimicking him) who sat on the
" grass near me, fell down on his back, and then

122 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
"gave a shake or two with his hands and feet,
"and stirred no more. We looked at him, and
" found he was quite dead ; then we took an empty
" keg, and clapt it on his breast, and shouted,
"we'd have another fine drinking bout at his
" burial. Then we waked him that night ; and
" next day, at the burial, we drank strong whiskey,
" as much as before. So we had fine sport." The
wild parts of Munster or Connaught could scarce
exhibit such savage barbarity of manners.
Mr. Skelton strove with all his power to break
them off from this brutish practice. Those he
could prevail on he made swear against drinking,
and in his own church he preached against it. A
sermon he preached to them on this subject is
printed in his works, entitled Wo to the Drunkard;
which, had they the feelings of common men,
must have had an effect on them, especially when
delivered by such a preacher as Mr. Skelton.
Yet his advice and preaching produced in this
instance but little reformation. Whiskey was
plenty, and the vice was established by long
practice. It is almost impossible to make people
break off at once from customs of this sort, sanc
tioned by time, and pleasing to their appetites.
The advance from barbarism to civility must, like
every other improvement, be gradual. His own
hearers were probably in some degree reclaimed
by him from beastly drunkenness. He strove also
to limit the expenses of aU his people at christen-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 123
ings and marriages ; for they usuaUy spent aU
they could scrape together at these, and afterwards
were in a manner starving. I heard of a curious
answer an old woman of Pettigo made him, when
he was just going to marry her to a young man.
" What's the reason," he said to her, " you're
doing this ; 'tis for your penny of money he marries
you, sure he hates you, for you're both old and
ugly." " Don't despise," she replied, " the Lord's
handy work ; " meaning herself
He began himself indeed at that time to feel
the want of a wife ; not I believe from any unruly
propensities towards the fair sex, for he was then
bordering upon fifty. But he perceived, I should
think, the use of having a gentle partner through
life, as a partaker in his joys and sorrows, an
assistant in sickness, and consoler in adversity.
However, for some reasons or other he began then
to repent, he had not married when he was young,
and used frequentiy to exclaim, "would to God
I had married a servant maid ! " It was reported
then he was jilted in his younger days, which
gave him a distaste to marriage. This indeed is
not improbable, as men of sense are as liable as
any others to be deceived by the arts of women.
Yet in my various and famUiar conversations with
him he never gave me a hint of this, which Is a
misfortune that men generally wish to keep to
themselves. Some time after, he owned in a large
company at EnniskiUen, that he never had carnal

124 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
knowledge of a woman ; on which an old lady,
who was present, told him plainly she did not
believe him.
Yet he was very sensible of the obligation that
lies on parents to take care of their offspring. A
man who had a numerous family of children, his
wife having a child every year, being reduced to
poverty by giving bail for another, came to him
once to ask for assistance, setting forth his melan
choly story. " What (he said to him) you had so
many children, and yet you baUed a man ; you
ought not to have any, for you are not fit to take
care of them." He then supplied him with present
aid, and promised to settle five guineas a year on
him, upon condition his wife should have no more
children ; observing, that one so careless as he
ought not to enjoy conjugal gratifications.
His eminent virtues and charities gained him
the love and respect of most of his people, and
his courage, strength and activity, made him
dreaded by those who could be only influenced by
fear. Upon his arrival at Pettigo he found the
people, as I mentioned before, rude and disorderly,
fond of rioting and quarrelling. Among these
there were bullies, who, ruling over the rest,
wished also to bully Mr. Skelton, and keep him
down ; but they were disappointed in the man
they had to deal with. He told me, that one of
them called Acheson came into his room one day
to insult him ; but he fell on him, and cuffed him

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 125
and turned him out of the house. This same man
came once into his church when he was drunk,
and disturbed him so in his duty, that he was
obliged to dismiss his congregation.
It appears he had no objection at that time, as
usual, to try his strength on occasions. Some
people raising stones at Pettigo came to one too
heavy for them ; upon which Skelton, who was
present, told them they were a parcel of rats, and
taking the crow-iron in his hand raised the stone,
but broke the crow-iron in the experiment.
One Graham a farmer coming up to him one
day in a garden offered to wrestle with him.
"What," said he, "you insignificant little fellow
would you presume to wrestle with me .'' " And
then took him by the collar, and threw him down
among the keal.
His lonely situation at Pettigo gave him more
leisure for study. In 1753 he published the
Consultation, or a Dialogue of the Gods, in the manner
of Lucian ; sed magno discrimine. It is intended
to ridicule the Arians, whom it represents as a sort
of polytheists ; because they hold one supreme
and other inferior Gods. Jupiter of consequence
and his clan are fond of the Arians, who, they say,
are their friends, and may be the means of bringing
them once more into fashion. His attempts at wit
are certainly laudable, as employed in a good cause,
but they are not so successful as I could wish.
In this or the following year he went to London

126 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
again to publish his Discourses ; the neighbouring
clergy in his absence attending his church, as I was
assured by an old clergyman who preached there
in his turn. This clergyman told me, that he
copied over his discourses for the press, an assistance
he always made use of when he could obtain it ;
for he disliked copying, which is but a servUe
employment, especially, I suppose, as he was not
Ycvy fair at it, if one may judge by his handwriting
In his letters. I could hear of no adventure on
this second visit to London worth relating. We
may suppose indeed he returned as soon as con
venient to his parish, which was so much the object
of his care.
In 1754, his two volumes of sermons were
published by Andrew MUlar, entitied Discourses
Controversial and Practical on Various subjects. Proper
for the Consideration ofthe Present Times. By the Author
of Deism Revealed. To his first volume is prefixed
a Preface addressed to the Clergy of the Church oj
England, and to his second another addressed to the
Citizens of London. The corrupt and dangerous
opinions that were then beginning to prevail he
makes, in his first preface, his apology for publishing
his controversial discourses. In his second he
expresses his gratitude to the citizens of London
for their civUities to him, during the time he lived
among them ; and mentions, as I collect from his
preface, that partiy at the request of some of these,
and partiy to animate men. If possible, with some

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 127
religious warmth, in this winter of Christianity, he
offers his practical discourses to the public. To
the preface of each volume he signs his name.
In these discourses there is abundance of good
sense and original thought. He is no servile
copier of others, but draws his arguments from
scripture and his own understanding, his picture
of human motives and actions from a close obser
vation of mankind. He read few sermons, he
said, that those he wrote might, if possible, be his
own ; and I believe but very few can be more
justiy than his styled the real property of their
respective authors. Of these sermons I could
quote many passages striking and sublime, produced
at once by his own fertile capacity. For he took
too little care in his compositions, and depended
mostly on his genius, whence chiefly arose all his
faults. Hence the vast inequality in his sermons ;
some of which are composed in a pure and elegant
style, and others in one coarse and obscure. Yet
there is scarce one of them that does not prove him
to be a man of parts. It must also be observed,
that they are all animated with a warm and genuine
piety, and an ardent desire for the salvation of
men's souls, which will be esteemed by a devout
christian an excellence sufficient to make amends
for their defects.
These sermons were remarkable for their ortho
doxy ; some of them indeed were written on
purpose to prove the Trinity and Atonement ;

128 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
which he told us, gave offence to the Reviewers,
who were very sharp in their remarks on him, and
called him an orthodox bully. They quoted him
he said, very unfairly, for they took a piece of a
sentence in one part, and another piece in another,
and then patching them up together, said, "this
is nonsense." He then made an observation on
Reviewers, which it is not I think prudent to
mention. He told me, that soon after his Discourses were
published, some one came into the present Marquis
of L  's chambers at Oxford, where he was
then a student, and saw Skelton's discourses before
him, which caused him to ask, why he troubled
his head reading sermons, as he knew he was easy
about any religion ? He said, he happened to
look into a sermon entitled the Cunning Man,
which engaged his attention a little, as the Author
was describing his father. Mr. Skelton said, he
did not at that time know his father, who was a
remarkably cunning man, and kept his son closely
pinched at the university, which made him suppose
that the character in the sermon alluded to him.
About two years after he came to Pettigo,
Robert Plunket removed to a farm a mile distant
from that vUlage, whither Mr. Skelton accompanied
him, and lodged with him two or three years more,
until he and his family went to America to another
brother, who had made a fortune on that continent.
I was shown in the garden a seat in a tree adjoining

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 129
a murmuring brook, where Mr. Skelton used to
read. He then took lodgings with one Carshore,
a low farmer in the vUlage of Pettigo. His
situation here was even more inconvenient than
at Plunket's. He had indeed wretched lodgings.
The floor of the room was not only earthen, but
also so uneven, that he was forced to get a table
with two long and two short feet to fit it. He
also found it necessary to buy a pair of tweezers,
to pick the dirt out of the keal which they served
up to his dinner.
Some gentlemen who came to see him there,
went out and killed a few wood-cocks, which they
desired the people of the house to roast for their
dinner with the train in them, as is usual. A short
time after, when he had company to dine with
him, they served up to them a turkey-cock roasted
with the guts in It, which they imagined to be the
most fashionable way. At length, he was obliged
to send Carshore's daughter to Dr. Madden's, to
get a little knowledge of cookery, which she stood
much In need of.
Carshore had two sons, William and Thomas.
William was born nearly blind ; but In a few
years after lost what little sight he had by the
measles. However, Mr. Skelton perceiving him
to be a young man of extraordinary understanding,
and surprisingly acquainted with the scriptures,
employed him to go through the parish during
the winter, to Instruct his people in religion, and
nos-i I

130 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
in the summer examined them himself, to know
what benefit they had derived frora his instruction.
The most of the time I was at Pettigo I spent in
his company, and found him to be one of the
most rational, agreeable, sensible men I ever saw.
The methodists strove to bring him over to their
opinions ; for they always wish to deal with
persons that have some natural defect, that the
interposition of the spirit may be more apparent.
But he had too much good sense to become a
convert to their odd notions.
His brother was by nature disabled in his limbs ;
he was reel-footed, as they call it ; which signifies,
that his feet were bent under him ; by means of
which he was unable to earn his bread by labour.
Mr. Skelton, through pity, taught him to read
and write, and also made him shave a wig-block in
his room every day, giving him some curious
directions, that he might learn to shave thus human
faces, and earn his bread by it. He also sent him
to Monaghan to learn the wig-making trade, and
afterwards to Armagh to learn to sing psalms ;
upon which occasions he defrayed all his expenses.
He and his brother at present serve between them
the office of clerk In the Church of Pettigo.
When he lodged at Carshore's, he became
extremely fond of flowers, and used to send twenty
miles off to get a curious one. These were planted
in Carshore's garden ; every scarce flower having
a paper affixed to it with its name. Those who

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 131
are at a loss for company often seek for amuse
ment from things inanimate. He used then in
cold weather to go through Pettigo with a straw-
rope about him, to keep his big coat on ; being
never very fond of finery ; nor was it indeed
requisite in that remote part of our island.
The course of my narrative leads me to one of
the most conspicuous periods of his life. In 1757,
a remarkable dearth prevailed in Ireland ; the
effects of which were felt most severely in the
rough and barren lands of Pettigo. Mr. Skelton
went out then into the country to discover the
real state of his poor, and traveUed from cottage to
cottage over mountains, rocks, and heath. He
was then a witness to many scenes of sorrow, to
which the gay world were insensible, and which
coiUd be only felt by a soul so sympathetic as his.
Ih one cabin he found the people eating boiled
prushia * by itself for their breakfast, and tasted
this sorry food which seemed nauseous to him.
Next morning he gave orders to have prushia
gathered and boiled for his own breakfast, that he
might live on the same sort of food with the poor.
He eat this for one or two days ; but at last his
stomach turning against it, he set off immediately
for Ballyshannon to buy oatmeal for them, and
brought thence with all speed as much as appeased
the hunger of some of them. He also gave
money to one Hanna to go through the parish,
* A weed with a yellow flower that grows in corn fields.
I 2

132 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
and distribute it among those who were in great
distress. By this supply, some of the poor who
were so weak with hunger that they could not rise
out of their beds, in eight days grew so strong as
to be able to get up.
When he had thus afforded them present relief,
he went to Ballyhayes in the county of Cavan, and
brought thence oatmeal which he could buy at a
cheaper rate. He then set out through the country
to see what subsistence the indigent people had in
their wretched hovels, and used to look into the
crocks and chests in which they kept their meal,
and count their number of chUdren, that he might
be a better judge of their necessities. To some
he gave one peck, to others more, according to
their wants, and to those who could afford to pay
a little he allowed meal at about half value. He
thus like his great master went about doing good.
One day, when he was travelling in this manner
through the country, he came to a lonely cottage
in the mountains, where he found a poor woman
lying in child bed with a number of children about
her. All she had, in her weak helpless condition,
to keep herself alive and her children, was blood
and sorrel boUed up together. The blood, her
husband, who was a herd, took from the cattie of
others under his care, for he had none of his own.
This was a usual sort of food in that country, in
times of scarcity ; for they bled the cows for that
purpose, and thus the same cow often afforded

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 133'
both mUk and blood. Mr. Skelton tasted the odd
mixture, the only cordial the poor woman had to
strengthen her in her feeble state. His tender
heart being touched at the sight, he went home
immediately, and sent her a hundred of meal,
a pound of brown sugar, and a bottie of brandy.
He then visited her every second day in her cot
among the mountains, bestowing on her such
comforts as seemed requisite, until she recovered.
At that time, he and Jonas Good, the strong
man, regulated Pettigo market on a Monday,
standing among the meal-sacks, each of them with
a huge club in his hand, and covered over with
meal. They were obliged then, when the carriers
were bringing the meal to Pettigo, to guard it with
their clubs, as the people of the adjacent parishes
strove to take it by force, and eat it themselves ;
in which they sometimes succeeded ; for hunger
makes people desperate.
When he had procured some meal to supply
the immediate wants of the necessitous, he sent
off to Drogheda for flax to them, and having It
carried to Pettigo, bestowed on them in greater
or less quantities, according to the number of
people in a family that could spin. The yarn thus
made was sold every market-day, and the money
it produced placed in his hands, as also the earn
ings of the men, in return for the meal and flax he
gave them for the succeeding week; but this far
exceeded in value the pittanqg the women could

134 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
earn by spinning, or the m.en by labour. He thus
made them contribute their industry to their own
support. On those who were unable to work he
bestowed meal sufficient for their subsistence ; and
with the money produced by the earnings of the
people, and what he could scrape together of his
own, he bought more meal and flax, and thus
daily strove to preserve them.
For some time he was tolerably successful ; but
at last his money was nearly all spent, and yet he
knew the dearth must continue many weeks more,
until the new crop would relieve the poor. He
was then very apprehensive, lest, after keeping
them alive so long, he should see them at last
dying of hunger. This forced him to an expedient
extremely unpleasant for a scholar excluded, as he
was, from all civUized society. He resolved to
sell his books, the companions of his solitude, and
relieve his indigent parishioners with the money.
With this intent he sent them to Dublin to
William Watson the bookseller in Capel-street,
desiring him to dispose of them immediately ; who,
in compliance with his orders, advertised them for
sale in the newspapers. But as buyers were tardy,
and the wants of the poor very urgent, Mr.
Watson bought them himself for eighty pounds,
and instantly paid the money. Soon after the
advertisement appeared in the newspapers, two
ladles, who guessed at his reason for selling his
books, sent him a fifty pound blU, requesting him

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 135
to keep the books, and relieve his poor with the
money. These ladies did not discover their names ;
but I am assured, that one of them was Lady
Barrymore, who gave twenty, and the other a Miss
Leslie, who gave thirty pounds. However, with
expressions of gratitude he told them, he had
dedicated his books to God, and he must sell them.
Consequentiy, the contribution of the ladles, and
the money he got for his books, were both applied
to the relief of his poor. This was a sacrifice to
duty of which no one can have an adequate idea,
except a scholar, fond of reading situate, like
Mr. Skelton, in a coarse barren country, among
illiterate people, with a number of agreeable books,
the only companions of his many solitary hours.
Such were the exertions, and extraordinary
charities, of this exemplary clergyman, employed
in a time of scarcity for the preservation of his
poor parishioners. He was indeed like an angel
sent down from heaven to visit them in their
distress. A few such primitive apostolic christians
in this kingdom might almost be sufficient to avert
the divine judgment off the land, which God
knows how soon may overtake us for our sins.
In the disposal of his charities, he made no
distinction with respect to the religion of the
persons, as the only claim they had to offer was
poverty and want. Indeed he frequentiy declared,
that during the several dearths in which he had
the care of a parish, his charities were mostly

136 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
conferred on Roman catholics ; for these, when
they got a littie money, spent it aU profusely in
drinking and carousing, without laying by a penny
for any unforeseen accident, and consequently, in
times of scarcity, should, many of them, have died
of hunger, had they not been relieved. But
protestants of every description being more ceco-
nomlcal generally had something saved, and of
course, when a famine prevailed, stood In less
need of assistance.
It is necessary to mention, that Mr. Watson
sold a part of the books ; those that remained,
Mr. Skelton, when he could afford it, took from
him at the price he sold them for, but insisted on
paying interest for the sum they amounted to, for
the time Mr. Watson had them in his possession.
He continued for a few years to lock the church
door at intervals, while he examined the grown-up
people in religion ; but was at last forced to desist
as a woman fainted in the church, because she
could not get out. However he did not on this
account leave off examining them, as usual. It
was a fashion with them then to be still going out
and coming In, during the time of service, which
obliged him at length to speak out to them thus
from the reading-desk, "remark the disturbers of
God's worship." This rebuke partiy cured them
of the irregularity.
All his exertions were indeed scarce sufficient to
keep his people in due order. Among their other

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 137
bad practices, they used to steal timber from the
adjoining woods. One man, who was notorious
for this, he forced with much difficulty to swear to
take no more in future. A hearer of his who,
he was told, had taken a bundle of scollops and
some timber out of Rapee-wood in the county of
Fermanagh, kneeling one Sunday at the sacrament,
had got the bread, and was just getting the wine,
when looking in his face, he perceived who he
was, and then stopt short, and said to him, " you
have stolen a part of the Lord's sacrament, but
you shall get no more." The man replied to him
very sharply. However he was afterwards recon
ciled to this man, and Invited him to dine with
him. Doctor Clayton, the Bishop of Clogher, was,
it is well known, a strenuous opposer of the most
essential doctrine of the orthodox faith. He
declared his disbelief of some of the articles of our
church to which he had solemnly subscribed;
though he had no scruple of conscience to enjoy
the ample revenue it afforded him. His Lord
ship, it seems, was not content with the conscious
ness of having found out by his sagacity the right
opinion himself, but, like some others of the same
stamp, had a longing desire to make converts.
When he was putting down on paper his strange
notions in his study, his lady used to come in, and
say to him, " My Lord, quit writing, or you'll lose
your bishoprick." But he would not be persuaded

138 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
by ha- ; the wcM-ld was all wrong, he said, and he
would strive to set it right. AccMdii^y, beade
the £ssay on Spirit, he puUished afterwards some
other pieces, in which he decJared his sentiments
too plainlv on the sulgect of the Trinity. This
gave occasion for an open attack on him in the
House of Ltffds, when Primate Stone made a very
severe speech against him. The House resolvii^
to deprive him of his bishoprick, summoned him
to appear before them. He then consulted
a great lawver on the subject, and asked him, if
he thought he would lose his bishoprick ? " My
Lord," he answered, " I believe you wUL" " Sir,"
he replied, " you have given me a stroke IU never
get the better of." His apprehensions were un
fortunately too true ; fbr he was instandy seized
with a disorder, and soon after died in 1758.
A lady, who usually had a correspondence with
Mr. Skelton, in a letter she wrote him from
Dublin, mentioned, among otho* transactions, the
Bishop's death, and the probable cause of it- In
his answer he lamented the Bishop's fate, and
thought his gentle spirit could not bear the severity
he experienced, but that it broke his heart. The
world knows how strenuous an advocate he was
for those religious opinions that are exactly
contrary to his Lordship's; but his gratitude for
the benefice he had conf^red on him made him
feel so sensibly for his condition. Tliis Bishopi,
with all his odd notions, was a usefid man to the

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 139
poor. Being a member of the linen board, he got
a great many wheels and reels for the poor about
Clogher, and thus kept the most ofthem employed.
He also had the honour of giving Mr. Skelton
his first living, which, if he pleased, he might have
refused to his dignified solicitors.
In the see of Clogher, he was succeeded by
Dr. Garnet, a prelate of great humUity, and a friend
to literature and religion. This Bishop, though
he had but one eye, could discover, as I am told,
men of merit, as well as some people with two
eyes. Sensible that Mr. Skelton was a man of
worth and parts, he treated him with the respect
such men deserve. A superior, who treats a man
of learning and abUities with coldness and indif
ference, shows he has no regard for literature.
About this time a pamphlet appeared in Dublin
entitled An Appeal to the Common Sense of all Christian
People. This being an artful defence of the Arian
opinions, which the author insinuated were alone
consistent with common sense, was written with
so much cunning, and such a show of candour,
that it had a dangerous effect on many well-
meaning people. An Answer was published to it
In about half a year, consisting of above two
hundred duodecimo pages, which was ascribed to
Mr. Skelton. It is really a masterly performance,
and exceeding in style and manner any of his
former compositions, completely overturns, at least
in my opinion, the author's objections, and proves

140 THI' Lll'l'", OF SKI'll.TON.
the doctrine of the Trinity from the very texts he
quotes against It. This piece is not contained in
the five volumes of his works published in 1770.
But as the Appeal had sunk into obscurity. It was
probably thought needless to republish the answer.
In the parish of Pettigo, about three miles from
the little village, is situate Lough-Derg, so much
turned over liurojic for the holy exercises per
formed by the pious pilgrims that resort to it.
From the twelfth of May, till the latter end of
August, the village is crowded with pilgrims, either
going, or returning from that place; and the
public houses of Pettigo get many a good iienny
from these spiritiitil visitants, who arc sufficientiy
liberal in spending their money on whiskey.
Mr. Skelton wrote a description of Lough-Derg,
so remarkable for its surprising qualities, In a letter
to the Bishop of Clogher, which niade its way into
the newspapers without a name; but he afterwards
thought fit to claim it as his property, and publish
it in his works. It Is needless to be more par
ticular about a place that has so often employed
the pen of the curious.
A poor blind man, called Petty, who lost both
his eyes by boxing, had a cabin just adjoining
Lough-Derg, and usually got a halfpenny out of
sixpence-halfpenny Irish given by every pilgrim,
or stationer, for the boat which carried them over
tf) the island. On a complaint made against him
to the titular Bishop and Prior, his cabin was

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 141
thrown down, and himself banished. Mr. Skelton,
who pitied his case, when the Bishop came to
Lough-Derg, invited him to dine with him, and
got Petty restored, who continued there to the
year 1786, when he died. A priest, who was also
turned out, by his means got his place again.
Such was his interest with the titular Bishop.
I" i759> ^6 Bishop of Clogher, without any
solicitation, removed him from Pettigo to Devenish,
a living in the county of Fermanagh, near Ennis
killen, worth about three hundred a year. Thus,
by the kindness of the good Bishop, he was brought
once more into civilized society, after continuing
ten years in that rugged part of Ireland, where his
virtues and charities shall long be remembered*.
When he was leaving Pettigo, he said to the poor,
"give me your blessing now before I go, and
God's blessing be with you. When you are in
great distress, come to me, and PU strive to relieve
you." He used to say, "I want nothing but as
much as wUl keep a pair of horses and a servant."!
He was fond of a good horse, and generally
had the best saddle horses that could be got,
though he was remarkably awkward on horseback.
* It" must, however, be owned, in justice to the people of
that country, that they seem at present very much improved
in every particular.
t Jonas Good, the famous man, already mentioned, quitted
his service on obtaining a farm at Pettigo, in which his widow
and children now hve : he himself having died some years

142 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
For he turned out his toes, and took no hold with
his knees, but balanced himself in the stirrups,
like a man on slack-wire ; so that when the horse
began to trot, he jogged up and down like a taylor.
A lady, who was riding along with him one day,
near Pettigo, observed to him, that he turned out
his toes too much, " O yes," he said, " my educa
tion was inverted, for I was taught to ride by
a dancing- master, and to dance by a riding-master."
Horace himself informs us very candidly, that he
rode awkwardly on his mule.
It has been mentioned, that old Mr. Leslie, his
father, as he called him, who died while he had
Pettigo, recommended his grandchildren to him
on his death-bed. He assured him he would be
a father to them, and proved himself to be so, for,
among his other virtues, he possessed, in a high
degree, gratitude and veracity. A lady once asked
him, if he had, as reported, kept the Rev. Alexander
Leslie, a grandson of this clergyman, while a school
boy, at Monaghan school .'' He acknowledged to
her he had partly. When Mr. Leslie's sister was
left a widow with a large family, he sent her fifty
pounds. Once he gave thirty pounds as an apprentice
fee with a young man who was no way connected
with him, except by being his godson.
As the living of Devenish lay near Enniskillen,
he boarded and lodged In that town, with his
physician and friend Dr. Scott ; where he had an

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 143
agreeable and rational society, which must have
been doubly pleasing to him, after nine years exUe
in the desert wilds of Pettigo. The Doctor and
he used to sit up pretty late in the winter nights
playing piquet, of which he was very fond ; but
he seldom played higher than a farthing a game.
The whole living was then divided in two parts,
placed at some mUe's distance from each other.
The part that lay to the North of Lough-Ern was
called Monea, that to the South of it Trory*. In
the former was the parish church, and in the latter
a chapel of ease. He usually preached in the
chapel of ease, as it was only two miles distant
from Enniskillen, and kept a curate In the parish
church. However, he frequently changed places
with his curate, extending his care over the people
in every part of his parish. In both churches
there was a large congregation, as Is the case over
the whole county of Fermanagh, where the church-
of-England-men exceed the presbyterians in the
proportion of at least three to one. This is very
unusual In the North of Ireland, where presby
terians of every species so much abound. In
these churches Mr. Skelton had the sacrament
administered once a month ; a regulation he
thought fit to make on account of the number of
hearers. His endeavours to instruct his people both in
public and private were equally strenuous now as
* This part of the living is now made a perpetual cure.

1 44 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
before: The chUdren he catechised, as usual, in
the proof-catechism, and lectured on these occa
sions. The grown up people he also examined in
the diurch. At Trorv he had a great many
quality, whom he examined as well as the rest, but
he was plaguUv afraid they should miss anv diing
for he wished to set than up as examples fijr the
others to imitate. On this account he asked them
always the easiest questions imaginable ; yet they
often did not hit on the right answers. WTien he
was going to examine one of these he used to s^
to the rest of the people, "I only ask this
gentleman a question to show you I make no
distinction, for I am sure he is very weU acquainted
with his duty." One day he asked a man of
fortune in his church how many commandments
there were." and he answered nine: on which it
was observed, that he forgot the seventh, t^u dab
not commit adulterj, as he was apt to stray firom the
wite. The situation of his parish, which adjoined
Lough £m, made his attention to the morals of
his people more requisite. In the Lough, it is
well known, thare are near four hundred litde
islands. These swarmed at that time with jmvate
stills, which, as being out of the reach of the
revenue officers, made the whiskey too plenty, and
in proportion the morals of the people dqpraved.
It therefore required all his attention to counteract
the corrupt influence of the place. Govemment

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 145
have now, I am told, appointed a barge with
officers and men to seize on these private stills,
that are so injurious to good morals.
In 1763, Mr. Skelton, with the rest of the
established clergy, was forced to make his escape
to Dublin from the Oak-boys, who were then
persecuting the church ; all his virtues not being
able to secure him from those enemies to religion.
He thought It prudent to take a circular way, that
he might thus elude the search of the villains who
pursued him ; and staid in Dublin tUl he could
return to his parish with safety.
At that time, I think, he found at the Bishop
of Clogher 's, to whom he paid a visit, a grave
clergyman, an author, who boasted to him, that
he had written a large English grammar with one
pen ; which he thought a great feat ; and probably
he had more merit in doing It, than in writing the
book. He then said, that he lately intended to
write a translation of Suetonius, but was gravelled
in the very first sentence, and forced to desist.
The literary world has reason to lament the loss.
While Mr. Skelton was in Dublin, the Oak-boys
seized on Arthur "Johnston Esq. of Enniskillen,
a gentleman of a stiff temper, worth five hundred
a year. They then ordered him to swear to be
true to their cause, and so on ; but he refused
obstinately ; on which they put a rope about his
neck, and were on the point of hanging him,
when one Simpson, a supernumerary ganger, who

146 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
afterwards got a commission in the army, bursting
in on them with a pistol, rescued him out of their
hands. Skelton, on his return, met Mr. John
ston in the streets of Enniskillen, and putting
his hand in his pocket, took out a shilling, and
gave, it to him, saying, " here, take this, I gave
a shilling to see a camel in Dublin, but an
honest man is a greater wonder in the county
of Fermanagh."
To a gentieman, who told him once he expected
to represent that county in parliament, he said,
" aye, they are all a parcel of rascals, and a rascal
is the fittest to represent them." These expressions
of resentment proceeded from a temporary dislike,
probably occasioned by his Imagining them some
what favourable to the Oak-boys. Yet if I could
judge by my own little experience of them, 1
should give them a very different character.
A Mr. C. of the same county invited him to
spend a fortnight at his house ; but when he was
there a day or two, his servant came and told him,
he could get no oats for the horses. This he
thought a hint to him, that his company could
be dispensed with ; so he hastened to set off
immediately. When he was just going away Mr. C.
said to him, " I am surprised you would leave
me so soon, after promising to stay a fortnight
with me." " Sir," he replied, " you have fed
myself, but you starved my horses." He thus
freely spoke his mind.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 147
No hopes of private advantage could prevail on
him to vary a tittle from the truth. Having
a fine mare at Enniskillen, which happened once
to fall under him, he resolved to part with her,
and on a fair day in that town, sent her out with
a servant to sell her, and soon followed himself
accompanied by Dr. Scott, who told me the anec
dote, to set off the mare. When any one who wished
to buy her, asked him, " what sort of a mare is
this .'' " he answered, " she is a very bad mare, she
fell under me ; " then he told all her faults, and
many more imaginary ones. The people, of
consequence, when he gave her so bad a character,
went off without offering any thing. At last
a Mr. Galbraith of Omagh, who came up to him,
and heard the same bad account of her, said to
him, " well what will you take for her with all her
faults .'' " Why, I don't doubt but she may be
worth eight guineas for drawing the car, but she
Is not fit to ride." "Tis a bargain," said the
other, and gave him the money immediately. But
in a week after he sold the same mare for twenty
six pound. This shows Mr. Skelton was but
a bad jockey, as these gentry make it a rule not to
be so scrupulous in teUing all the faults of the
horses they wish to sell. It is a. maxim now
a days, I understand, that a man may be honest
in every thing else, but a rogue about horses. By
these and many other instances, it appears, that
Mr. Skelton was void of hypocrisy, a quality
K 2

148 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
which has often helped to insinuate ecclesiastics
into favour.
A gentleman of great consequence near Ennis
kiUen, who often Invited him to his house, but was
still disappointed of seeing him there, at last
pressed to know his reason for it ; " to be plain
with you. Sir," he answered, " you're too great
a man for me to be acquainted with."
Being informed one evening while he was
in Dr. Scott's, that a methodist preacher was
declaiming in the streets with the usual violence, he
kindly Invited the preacher to drink tea with him
after preaching. The man came accompanied by aU
his followers, who pushed after him into the parlour,
to hear Mr. Skelton and him arguing. " What
commission. Sir," said Skelton, " have you to
preach the gospel ?" " A commission from above ;"
replied the preacher. " By whom were you
ordained.'"' " By the spirit," he answered. "WeU
Sir, suppose you have got the spirit, as you say, it
is still necessary you should be ordained by the
laying on of hands, before you attempt to preach ;
for you read in the Acts of the Apostles, the Holy
Ghost said, separate me Barnabas and Paul for the
work whereunto I have called them. And when they
had fasted and prayed, and laid their hands on them,
they sent them away. These, it is allowed, had
already got the spirit ; but they were not permitted
to go abroad to preach, till they were first ordained
by the laying on of hands. Hence your preaching.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 149
without being ordained, is contrary to the practice
of the apostles." The man being confounded by
this objection made his escape as fast as possible.
When he was arguing again with a methodist
preacher, he said to him, "Do you advise Pres
byterians to go to Meeting, and Church-People to
go to Church .?" " Yes." « WeU then," said he,
" your religion is not the same as St. Paul's, for
he says, be ye all of one mind one with another."
Once a year he went to Lisburn to see his
relations, when he generaUy took with him sixty
guineas, which he divided among them. In Der
riaghy, there is a handsome rural place called the
Big Glen, near Collin mountain, which has been
so often celebrated in poetry, where he used every
summer to give his friends a treat on the grass, who
spent one day with him in innocent relaxation.
Returning once from Lisburn with his hat tied
over his face he met with his tithe-farmer near
EnniskiUen, and lifting up the brim of his hat, he
saw him, and said, " Is this you, George Irwin ? "
" Yes," replied George. " Can you give me a
guinea } " " I can." " Can you give me a shUling ^ "
" I can." " O then," he said, " I'm as rich as
a Jew, I'm as rich as a Jew."
Derriaghy, the place of his birth, belongs, it is
well known, to the Earl of H. Before that noble
man obtained the government of this kingdom, he
used frequentiy to say, as Mr. Skelton told me,
that it was a shame for the Lord Lieutenants of

I50 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
Ireland not to make Skelton a Bishop. It was
reasonable then to suppose, that these sentiments
should operate with his Lordship, if an opportunity
offered of putting them in practice. Consequently,
when he came over to us Lord Lieutenant in the
year 1765, Skelton probably expected to be raised
by him to that high office, for which, from his
virtues and abUities, he was so eminently qualified.
But he was disappointed, we know, in his hopes, if
he had any.
On former occasions, when his Lordship paid
a visit to Ireland he used to send for Mr. Skelton,
but, I believe, neglected to do it then. However,
soon after his arrival, he passed a few days with
him at Lord Loftus's in the county of Fermanagh,
where" his ExceUency spent some time shooting
woodcocks. Skelton then remarked to him, that
he was happy to find a Lord Lieutenant that could
govern the kingdom and shoot woodcocks. On
this occasion, he asked him what sort of a living he
had .'' " A very good living, a vety good living,
please your ExceUency, much better than I deserve."
Few clergymen would return such an answer to
such a question from a Lord Lieutenant ; for the
most of them think they have not got nearly equal
to their merits.
In the disposal of his ecclesiastic preferments,
his ExceUency took no notice of Mr. Skelton,
which might be owing to his declaring himself
content with his condition ; for he might suppose,

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 151
there was no occasion to heap favours on a man,
who did not seem to desire them ; especially, when
so many were gaping to snatch at them. How
ever, Mr. Skelton mentioned to me another reason
for the neglect he then met with, which I am forced
to omit, lest I should give offence to persons of
eminence, which one in my station should carefully
avoid. In Justice, however, to Lord H. I must
own, that he gave his brother Richard's son a
commission in the army at his request. The young
man was soon obliged to go out on half-pay, but
when he was preparing to join the regiment again,
he took a fever and died.
His brother Richard had a daughter who was
married to one Magee, but in some time she
parted from her husband, who appears not to have
been without his faults. Mr. Skelton laid down
rules for his niece to observe with respect to her
husband, but she would not observe them. He
sent her ten guineas, in 1780, on condition she
would go and live with him, but she refused. He
then ordered the money to be given to one of his
relations at Dundalk. When any of his poor
relations came to see him, he told them freely, they
wanted to get something from him.
His charities, while he continued at Devenish,
were equally extraordinary as before. They were
even, if possible, more extensive, in proportion
to the increase of his living. He was the same
attentive friend to the poor, the same reliever of

152 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
their distress and asswager of their pain. But a
particiUar account of these would be too similar
to that I have already given. It is necessary only
to observe, that his memory is there also held in
high esteem.
In 1766*, the Bishop of Clogher promoted him
again to the living of Fintona in the county of
Tyrone worth at least a hundred a year more
than that of Deyenish. Neither Mr. Skelton, nor
any one for him, asked the Bishop for this or the
other living ; so that a regard for his merit was the
sole principle that induced his Lordship to bestow
these benefices successively upon him. Such a
Bishop was indeed an honour to the station he
filled, and a blessing to the clergy who had the
good fortune to be under him.
When Mr. Skelton visited his Lordship on his
promotion, he said to him, " My Lord, I return
you thanks for your kindness to me, and for
putting so worthy a person in my room ; but I
know, the chief pleasure you enjoy is in being able
to do good." " I am glad, Skelton," said the
* In his Senilia he says he was at Fintona about 1765, but
I was assured there, that he came to it in 1766. In his fifth
volume he informs us that he got the hurt at the long-bullets
when he was twenty one years of age ; but in his Senilia he
says he got it when he was twenty. In his sixth volume he
tells us, his works were published in 1777, but the works
themselves inform us, they were published in 1770. Hence
it appears, that through inadvertence, or defect of memoiy.
he was liable to raistakes with respect to time and dates.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 153
Bishop, " I have done what is agreeable to you."
" But, my Lord," he continued, " you are only
a puppet in the hands of God Almighty. God
sent one of the royal family to the university in
England, where you were a professor, that you
might please him, and be raised high in the church.
Then God Almighty, using him as an instrument,
sent you over to Ireland, and made you Bishop of
Ferns, and at length raised you^ to the see of
Clogher, where you have great power and many
livings to bestow, and a horrible account you must
give hereafter of the manner you dispose of them.
Thus God sent you over to us to do good, and to
promote worthy men. He sent you also my
Lord, to promote me, who, I hope, will not shame
you before him and the world. You see now, my
Lord, you are only a puppet in the hands of God
Almighty." " You're right Skelton, you're right
Skelton," replied the good Bishop.
When he got the living of Fintona he was just
fifty nine years of age. " God Almighty," he used
to say, " was very kind to me : when I began to
advance in years and stood in need of a Horse and
Servant, he gave me a living. Then he gave me
two livings one after another, each of which was at
least worth a hundred a year more than the
preceding. I have therefore been rewarded by
him, even in this world, far above my deserts."
Such was his humility.
Fintona is a market-town in the County of

154 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
Tyrone, five miles distant from Omagh. The
proper name of the parish is Donacavey, but as
Fintona is the market-town, the parish by custom,
as before observed of Pettigo, assumes that name.
It is six mUes square, and though of a coarse soil
was even then tolerably well cultivated. It also
has two hundred acres of glebe ; seventy of which
lie near the town, but the rest is mountainous,
and consequently of little value. A third part
of the parish is tithe-free, which made the living,
though so large, and with such a glebe, worth
scarce five hundred a year. However, he received
but four hundred neat, as the curate's salary, which
was at least sixty pounds, and the expense of
collecting tithe, consumed the other hundred.
Possibly he could have made more of it, had he
been rigid in requiring his dues. There is a market
in Fintona every Friday, and also sOme stated
fairs in the year, when they usually have violent
quarrels. The twenty second of June is a remark
ably quarrelling fair. But they were then even
more furious quarrellers than at present, as the
private stUls were more numerous, and of course
the people more disorderly. In this town he at
first boarded and lodged with one Buchannan.
Upon entering on the care of this parish he
perceived, that he had but few hearers, the most
of the people being Roman Catholics and Presby
terians. In the town of Fintona in particular
they were almost all Presbyterians, but in a short

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 155
time he brought over nearly the whole of these to
the established church ; which was no easy task,
considering the firmness with which they usually
adhere to their opinions of nonconformity.
A clergyman, with whom he lodged a whUe,
assured me he told him, that when he found, on
first coming to one of his parishes, that his pro
testant parishioners were mostly dissenters, he
used the following stratagem to entice them to
come to church. Having invited their minister
to dine with him, he asked his leave to preach in
his meeting-house on the next Sunday, though he
owned he could not with safety allow him to
preach in his church. The man gave his consent ;
but his people were so pleased with Mr. Skelton,
that the greater number of them quit their own
teacher, and came afterwards to hear him. He
then sent for him and asked him how much he
lost by the desertion of his hearers .'' He told
him forty pounds a year ; on which he settied
that sum annually on him, and paid it out of his
own pocket.
His practice of Physic at Fintona was at least
equally expensive to him ; for his bestowing
medicines on the poor, and prescribing to the
people gratis, as at Pettigo, made Dr. Gormly the
physician of the place complain, that by his means
he lost a great part of his business ; which caused
him also to settle forty pounds a year on him.
In both these instances he not only took on him the

156 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
toil of doing good, but also voluntarUy paid for
doing it.
At Fintona he made converts of a few Roman
Catholics, as also at all his other parishes. At
Devenish in particular, one Ann Develin of that
persuasion being converted by hearing his awful
lectures to a sick woman on her death-bed,
renounced the Popish Religion ; which caused her
to suffer hard usage from her own famUy, who
vainly strove by all harsh means to bring her back
to popery.
About the time he was advanced to his last pre
ferment, he received a letter from the present
Earl of Bristol, before he got his Bishoprick,
informing him, that as he expected soon to be
raised to a station of some eminence in the Irish
church, he hoped then to be able to prove the
high opinion he entertained for the Author of
Deism Revealed. Accordingly, in 1767, upon his
obtaining the Bishoprick of Cloyne, his Lordship
sent him another letter to- this effect, that having
some time before made a sort of an engagement
with him, he begged leave now to fulfil it, and
therefore requested him to come up to Dublin and
preach his consecration sermon, assuring him that,
upon his compliance, he would promote him in the
church as high as he was able. Skelton in his
answer informed his Lordship, he wovdd comply
with -his request, though he was content with the
living he had ; and if he would consent to go to

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 157
the diocess of Cloyne, it would be only to be nearer
the sun, and nearer his Lordship. He then pre
pared a Sermon for the occasion ; but when the day
approached, finding himself somewhat unwell, and
the weather very cold, he thought he could not
with safety go to Dublin, and of course the Bishop
was disappointed. However, he sent his Lordship
the sermon, who, though astonished at the ability
it displayed, was still offended with Mr. Skelton,
as he imagined his excuse for his absence was not
sufficient. Upon this he informed him by letter,
that the chain of their friendship was broke in
two ; to which Mr. Skelton replied, that if it were
broken, it was of his Lordship's own forging not
of his. Yet the Bishop, after his promotion to
the see of Derry, came to Fintona to pay him a
visit when he happened to be abroad, and desired
a young gentleman who was in his lodgings to
inform him, that he had come fifteen mUes out of
his road to see him. Of this visit Mr. Skelton,
it seems, took no notice. It is a pity that the
disappointment of the sermon produced such a
disagreement between them, for otherwise his
Lordship, in all probability, would have promoted
him highly in his diocess, as, it is well known, he
is a liberal encourager of literature.
His brother John of Dundalk died this year.
1 have heard it mentioned to his credit, that he
would not, like some others, use his influence over
the landlord to take fields from the poor people

158 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
to suit his own convenience. His brother Thomas
of Newry died some time before ; for whom he
had such an affection that he wore ever after, as
mourning for him, a blue coat with black cuffs.
When he obtained the living of Fintona, he
seemed to have arrived at the height of his wishes.
He had no ambitious notions ; he wished to do
good here, in hopes of getting to heaven hereafter.
In no human breast was there ever a more settled
contempt for the vain pomp of all sublunary things.
A gentleman mentioned him once with respect to
Lord Townshend, during his lieutenancy, adding,
that he was content with what he had ; on which
his Excellency observed, that he must be a very
extraordinary man, and he would be glad to be
acquainted with him ; for he never knew any one
in all his life content with what he had. Another
gentleman of consequence, intimately acquainted
with this nobleman, offered to introduce him to his
Excellency, but he refused, assuring him, he did
not wish for any higher preferment In the church.
Besides, he knew he was not qualified to pay that
humble attendance at court, requisite to gain the
favour of a great man In power.
His people at Fintona being but little acquainted
with religion, though well accustomed to Whiskey
and quarrelling, he found It necessary, first to visit
every house in his parish, and then collect to
a particular place the people of each town-land, that
he might instruct them more conveniently. When

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. ijQ
he had thus gone round them himself, he afterwards
called to his assistance blind Carshore of Pettigo,
who spent the whole winter among them teaching
them religion, for which he was paid by him. In
summer he catechised the chUdren in church as
usual, bestowing on them Bibles, or WeekV
Prepiuationsi according to their answering, or the
distance they came, and accompanied his examina
tion with improving lectures on the catechism,
introducing in these some ofthe most notorious bad
deeds done in the parish the week before. Thus
he strove to shame them out of their vices, and
also out of their ignorance, by publicly examining,
as usual, the grown-up people in the church.
One Sunday, some time after he came to Fintona,
when he was esunining them in the church, he
came up to a woman, and asked her how many
Commandments there were ? She answered, seven.
He told her, there were ten, and asked her what
was the first .^ This was too hard for her, and
when she was stammering about it, one John
Patterson, a Taylor, behind her, whispered to her,
TAou shab have ho other Gods hut me. '' Do you
hear. Sir," quoth she, "what Jonny Patterson
a TaUor body here says to me."^ he says, 1 shall
have no other Gods but him : Deel in hell take
such Gods." This is an instance of the ignorance
of the people.
He was examining there again an old gentieman,
called John Hamilton, who could not answer him

i6o THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
a word. When he found, he said nothing, he
thought he was deaf, and said, " ah ! poor man,
he's deaf" " Oh ! indeed I am," he replied.
Though his people had himself, his Curate, and
blind Carshore to instruct them, they were stiU
very far from being perfect ; and therefore he
thought it requisite to appoint, as an additional
instructer, one Armstrong, a miller of Tonagh,
near Fintona, whom he supposed to be a very
sober discreet man. To him he gave the charge
of his neighbours, to keep them in due order,
telling him, he expected he would give a good
account of them. Soon after this, he met Arm
strong drunk in Fintona, on a market-day, and
said, " Oh ! Oh I Mr. Armstrong, is this the man
I have trusted the care of my people to.'' "
" Why, I am a better man than you are," he replied.
" How can that be .'' " " I'll tell you : the people,
you gave into my charge, I have all safe and sound ;
but there are you, the Priest, and your Curate, and
you have let the Devil take a man from among the
middle of you." " How so .'' " said Skelton.
" Sure," he answered, " Dick Saggerton, you know,
a day or two ago, cut his throat in the town with
you, and the Devil has carried him off in spite of
you all." This, it seems, was really the case.
The irregularity of his people required Indeed
every exertion. Their heads, it appears, were too
often disordered, and their manners corrupted by
Whiskey, which was too plenty by means of the

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. i6i
private stills, that are so destructive of good
morals. One day he met a carpenter drunk, who was
repairing the church, and checked him for his
drunkenness, and neglecting the business he was
employed about ; he then said, the people of
Fintona were aU beggars, yet they were stiU drink
ing. " Sir," replied the man, " Solomon gives us
liberty to drink, for he says. Give strong drink unto
him that is ready to perish, and wine to those that be of
heavy hearts. Let him drink, and forget his poverty,
and remember his misery no more *. You see then
poor people should drink to keep up their spirits."
He saw a mill grinding malt for Whiskey on a
Sunday, and in his lecture took notice of it, as
usual, saying, " we have malt on this side, and
malt on that side. Ah 1 my poor parishioners lose
their souls by it ; the distillers are the cause of
this, who are hanging by the tongue in hell."
"By * * he lies (one of them who was drunk in
Church said to another one beside him) for you're
not there, and I'm not there."
Another Sunday he carried off a parcel of boy's
clothes who were stript playing ball.
In his own conduct indeed he always set an
example of strict piety and morality. Beside his
private prayers, which were at least twice a day,
he had family prayers evety evening, to which he
* Prov. 31. 6, 7.
1703.1 L

i62 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
summoned the people of the town by the ringing
of a hand-bell.
His neighbours frequently resorted to his lodg
ings, being amused and instructed by his agreeable
conversation. With some of them he used to play
cards after dinner, to keep himself awake, for he
was apt to slumber at that time, as is usual with
some others.
Having a few of his parishioners with him one
evening at his lodgings, he happened to fall asleep ;
and then, whUe one of them blowed his nose very
violently with his handkerchief, another one pluckt
the handkerchief smartly, so as to make the noise
very shrill. This instantly wakened Mr. Skelton,
who said, " what, you're blowing a trumpet in my
room to insult me ; " and then starting up, he said
he wculd beat them, and turned them out of the
room. However, he received them again into
favour, on their humbly begging to be reconcUed
to him, for they did not wish to fall out with him,
his company was so agreeable.
It may be supposed, that even before he got
the living of Fintona, he had improved, as much
as possible, his extraordinary talent for preaching.
When he preached Charity Sermons in Dublin, as
he often did, he always brought thither a crowded
audience. It was remarked, that on these occa
sions he generally got more to the poor than any
one else, and well might he enjoin charity to
others, who set such a noble example of that

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 163
virtue in himself. His manner in the pulpit was
unusually vehement, suitable to the warmth of
his feelings. Some degree of vehemence in a
preacher is absolutely requisite now a days, when
mankind are so careless about religion ; indeed, it
requires no ordinary skill in one of these to make
an audience listen to him for twenty minutes with
tolerable attention. He never made use of spec
tacles in the pulpit, not even in his old age ; in
which he justly consulted the feelings of his
audience ; for surely it is disgusting to see a
preacher mount the pulpit, and clap a pair of
spectacles on his nose, to snivel out his dull
lecture to his drowsy people. But when he turns
up his eyes off the paper, and looks at us through
the spectacle which we see glittering on his nose,
his appearance for an orator is really burlesque.
To avoid all this, Mr. Skelton first made his own
sermons, so that he had the marrow of them
already in his head, and next, he had them copied
in a large fair hand, which a young man could
read at three yards' distance. Consequently, in
his very advanced age he could easUy read them
without spectacles. He generally hired a servant
who could write a tolerable hand to copy at
leisure-hours his Sermons an"d other writings, in
which he always improved by practice. Surely
our beneficed clergy could at least afford to do
this ; and then they would no longer contribute
by their spectacles to set their congregations asleep ;
L 2

1 64 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
to which indeed they are sufficientiy inclined of
themselves. Being In Lisneskea Church one Sunday, where
the Rector spoke in a low squeaking voice, he
remarked to him after dinner, before some others,
" Sir, you speak in company loud enough, but
you squeak so in Church, that we can't know
a word you say."
In Fintona church he took down the Pulpit,
and in its place raised the Reading-Desk to such
a height, as to serve both for Reading-Desk and
Pulpit. This gave him more room for action,
with which, as already mentioned, he always set
off his Sermons.
In 1770, he published his works by subscription,
in five volumes octavo, for the benefit of the
Magdalen Charity. The first volume contains
Deism Revealed, the second and third, the Ser
mons he published in England, the fourth, an
additional volume of sermons never published
before. To these four volumes he prefixed a
dedication addressed to Lady Arabella Denny, the
illustrious patroness of the charity above mentioned,
dated Fintona, June 7, 1770. The fifth volume,
which consists of Miscellanies, he dedicates to the
Revd. Dr. Henry Clarke, who had some time been
his tutor in the university. These five volumes
were printed by WUliam Watson of Capel-street,
and obtained for the charity five hundred pounds.
The additional volume of Sermons he preferred

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 165
to the others, as his understanding was more
mature when he wrote them. His Sermon on
these words, the children of this world are in their
generation wiser than the children of light, I have
always admired for its just observations on mankind.
In the fifth volume, there are a few pieces not
published before, of which it may be necessary to
take notice.
First ; Reasons for Inoculation ; in which he
mentions, that, some time before he wrote this
littie piece, seven children, on an average, died
each day of the SmaU Pox at Lisburn.
Second ; An Account of a Well or Pool near
Clonis in the county of Monaghan, famous for
curing the jaundice. The cure he supposes not
owing to the virtue of the waters, but to the mode
of application.
Third ; Observations on a late Resignation. It
aUudes to the conduct of the Revd. Mr. Robertson,
late of the established church, a short account of
whom may not be unnecessary. He had the
benefice of RathvUly, in the diocess of Leighlin
and Ferns ; but as he could not believe In the
Trinity, resigned it through a scruple of conscience.
On his resignation, he published his reasons
entitied an Enquiry &c. which Mr. Skelton thought
a book vety agreeably written. He then wrote to
Mr. Robertson requesting he would come and
spend the remainder of his life with him, and
take part of what he had ; if not, he offered him

i66 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
a large share of his income to support him. In
his letter to him he said, "we should often
argue, but never dispute, if we could not concur
in one creed, we should at least coalesce in one
heart." Such were his proposals to a man whose
religious opinions differed so widely from his. But
Mr. Robertson nobly refused, and preferred retir
ing to a country part of England, where he kept
a school for his bread. They were intimate ever
after, and continued a regular correspondence with
each other. When he sent his grandson afterwards
to our university, he committed him chiefly to the
care of Mr. Skelton, who would not allow him,
on urgent occasions, to be in want of money.
This was a man that, without any pompous dis
play of principle, quietly resigned a good living
for conscience sake. Skelton assured me that
Mr. Lindsey, who made such a parade about
his honesty, was not influenced by motives as
pure as his, as the society which he established in
London brought him more yearly than the vicarage
he resigned.
Fourth ; A Dream. This is intended to expose
the folly of fashion. In imagination it is not
deficient ; but it is too long, and its style stiff and
affected. It requires no ordinary skill to make
fiction appear pleasant.
Fifth ; Hilema. By this he means a copse, or
shrubbery. It consists of a variety of short
observations, some of which, if written in an easy

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 167
Style, would be agreeable. There are also in it
a few anecdotes well worth reading.
His good friend the Bishop of Clogher coming
to visit him at Fintona this year, arrived at his
lodgings on a Sunday morning, when he had his
hat on in his room, and was just ready to go to
church. The Bishop, it was observed, on entering,
took off his hat, but he kept his on. Yet no one
had a higher respect than he for his worthy patron,
though he might not strictiy observe every little
ceremony. At Fintona, this year, there were some remark
able events. One or two people killed themselves ;
others were murdered ; one man in particular was
murdered in the street opposite to his window ;
which had such an effect on him, that he instantly
made his escape from the place in dread of his life,
imagining, if he staid, that he also should be
murdered. He durst not venture back again for
three months, it was so long before he could shake
off his apprehension.
The county of Tyrone, he said, was remarkable
for many murders, the perpetrators of which
generally escaped unpunished. However, it has
at last been thought expedient to punish them.
In AprU 1788, I saw three of their heads fixed
on Omagh JaU for a barbarous murder lately
committed. It is to be hoped, for the honour of humanity,
that Mr. Skelton was in no real danger of his life

1 68 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
at Fintona ; for they must have been worse than
savages, had they attempted to injure a man, who
was constantly doing good among them. Even
in plentiful times he gave nearly the half of his
income to the poor ; or should he on an odd year
happen not to give so much, he only reserved his
money to be more liberal to them at a season of
scarcity. At the division of the poor's money
evety Easter, he always joined to the whole
collection twenty or thirty pounds of his own.
Besides, he very often put a guinea in the poor-
box, and seldom less than a crown. He also gave
money to buy flax-seed to those who stood in
need of it. Indeed he was constantly dividing his
charities, either publicly or privately, among the
necessitous. Yet in the distribution of these, he
was scarce ever imposed on by improper objects,
he examined so strictly into the condition of those
he relieved. To the strolling beggars he was not,
I must own, very liberal, for he suspected the
most of them to be impostors. In one of his
pieces he says, " of all nuisances and grievances
incident to poor Ireland, strolling beggars are the
worst." His strict and rigid oeconomy enabled him to
give so much away. His curate, who lodged
many years In the same house with him, told me,
he often saw him sitting up in his bed in the
morning mending his breeches. He had a trash-
bag, as they call it, in which he kept needles,

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 169
thread, and such like articles, to put a few stitches,
if necessary, in his clothes.
Yet he was obliged at last, on account of his
age and infirmities, to be at the expense of buying
a chaise, which, as he got it, not for show, but
convenience, was very plain. He used to say he
would put asses to his chaise, if he could get any,
that he might, in this at least, bear some resem
blance to his great master.
About 1773, there was a dearth in that part of
Ireland, at which time, as usual, he kept his poor
alive by his own money and the assistance he got
from others. The land about Fintona was toler
ably fertile, but cadgers bought up the oatmeal,
and carried it off to the barren parts of the county
of Derry and Antrim, which made the dearth be
felt more severely at Fintona. It was therefore
requisite at that time to bring meal thither from
other places ; but this was attended with some
difficulty, as the people of the adjacent parishes,
who were in a manner starving, strove to take the
meal by force from the carmen. Of consequence,
the people of Fintona found it necessary to arm
themselves, and go in a body to meet the carmen,
and conduct them to the town.
About this time, he left Buchannan's, and went
to board and lodge with James West a shop
keeper, in whose house Mr. Eccles, the squire of
his parish lodged along with him a while, when
they lived very agreeably together, as Mr. Eccles,

170 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
who is a gentieman of real piety, was fond of a
religious conversation. He was indeed so remark
able for this, that Mr. Skelton used often to
say, he had too much religion for a gentieman.
However, we need not be apprehensive that others
of his station will catch the infection.
Mr. Eccles had a brother a clergyman, the Revd.
Charles Stewart Eccles, who offered to preach In
Fintona church, but Mr. Skelton refused him
leave, as he suspected him to be a methodist ; and
seemingly with good reason, for he preached
publicly in the conventicles of those religionists.
However, they had a friendly communication at
Mr. Skelton's lodgings, and staid in a room
together a whole week, all which time he spent
examining into Mr. Charles Eccles principles, and
was at length convinced, that, strictly speaking, he
was not a methodist. Of consequence, he then
allowed him to preach in his church. Two parts
out of three of the whole parish belong to
Mr. Eccles, yet he would not allow his brother to
preach in his church, till he was convinced, he
was not tinctured with false principles.
Mr. Eccles told me, that his brother had been
in Georgia, where he was head of the college of
Savanna. WhUe he was there, he and another
clergyman went among the Indians to convert
them to Christianity ; but their preaching was
unhappily not successful. In one town, in par
ticular, the savages chased them away with stones ;

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 171
on which they shook the dust off their feet as a judgment
against them. But in a day or two after they heard,
(strange to teU !) that another body of Indians
came on them, and destroyed the town, and put
them all to death. This indeed was a signal
event. This clergyman met with his death (in 1780)
in the foUowing manner. WhUe he was studying
a. Sermon near the banks of a river in England, he
saw a boy just drowning in the river ; upon this,
he ran to it, and leaping in to save him, was
drowned in striving to preserve his life.
It appears, Mr. Skelton was not over fond of
the methodists. A few years after he came to
Fintona, some of his people began to adopt their
religious notions. A man, who had lately turned
methodist, coming somewhat late into church on
a Sunday, whUe he was walking up the aisle, was
thus addressed by Skelton, " I suppose, Sir, you
have not come to hear me, tUl you had dismissed
your own congregation ; but you do not come
here to be instructed ; it is only to make your
remarks." At that time he preached against the
methodists on this text, by their fruits you shall know
them. One Browne, a methodist preacher, rebuked
him at Fintona for playing cards. He pleaded as
an excuse for himself, that he only played for a
farthing a game ; but the man still insisted it was
a heinous sin. When the methodists told him,

172 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
they could live without sin, (a doctrine peculiar
to their sect) he said to them, " ah, you are very
different from me, for I am sinning every hour."
He that exalteth himself shall be abased, but he that
humbleth himself shall be exalted.
In his private conversation with Mr. Eccles, he
remarked, that if men preached the gospel now
with the same dispositions as the Apostles, miracles
would follow. Again he said to him, "between
you and me, I'll pawn my salvation on the Truth
of the Trinity." He once declared to me, that
he would resign his living. If the Athanaslan Creed
were removed from the prayer-book ; and I am
sure he would have done so. Few, I suppose, of
the established clergy were so sincerely attached
to it.
It has been mentioned, that he always kept a
curate at Fintona. Mr. Hawkshaw's son was
curate to him a short whUe, until he got a living.
About 1773, Mr. Auchinleck became his curate,
and still continues there. Upon his getting the
cure, he gave him grass for his horse in the glebe,
and desired him to lodge with him in James
West's, when he told him, he might give twenty
pounds a year for his diet and lodging, &c. and he
would pay the rest he should be charged out of
his own pocket. But this gentleman imagined,
Mr. Skelton would have to pay too much, and
therefore declined accepting for some time of his
kind offer, until he made, what he thought, a

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 17,^
more reasonable agreement with Mr. West. He
theu went to lodge in the same house with
Mr. Skelton, who insisted on ghing him share of
his own wine after dinner, and lUso on paving for
whatever company Mr. Auchinleck chose to invite
to dine with him. He considered, he said, all
these as his own guests, and therefore would pav
tor them. For the cure he o-i%-e him sixtv pounds
a year, while he resided at Fintona, and seventy
;ifterwards. He also allowed him iKh-,intages from
the management of his tithe, and set him a p;xrt
of the olebe at a low rent when he ^emo^¦ed to
Dublin.^ Being c>tten, on a v.icancv, appointed sequestni-
tor to a ll\-ing, he alwavs raised the curate's s;Uary
from fortv to fiftA* pounds. This he did at
Rosserv, where he was sequestrator, when he had
Devenish. To the poor curates indeed he was always a
sincere friend, as :Uso to all others, whose condition
made tiiem stand in need of his assistance. WhUe
he had Fintona, he went once to recommend to a
certain eminent Prelate an old Curate who was
remarkable for his mor;Us, le;u-ning, and abilities.
After some con%-ers;ition, he told his Grace he had
come to him on business. " What business .- "' his
Gr.ice quicklv replied. " I ant come," he answered,
"to recommend to your Grace, Mr. Johnston,
an old curate of oT<?-it merit in your diocess,
who will soon die, and its a shame he shoidd

174 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
die a curate. I beg therefore you may give
him a smaU living." "He is an odd sort of
a man," his Grace said, and then gave him a
refusal. On which Mr. Skelton spoke to him
thus, " 1 agree with your Grace, he is a very
odd sort of a man, for he has more learning,
and knows better how to apply It than the whole
diocess of * * *."
Some dignified clergy at the Bishop of Clogher's
were remarking one day before dinner, that Skelton
himself was an odd sort of a man, mentioning the
oddity of his dress, and the like. "Aye, aye,"
observed the old Bishop, " Mr. Skelton may
wear a rusty gown, and a brown wig, but he Is
such a jewel, that we should overlook his littie
peculiarities." The Bishop of Clogher wrote him once a letter
to Fintona, to inform him, that the same eminent
Prelate, just now mentioned, would, be at his
house on such a day, and said, he expected he
would come and wait on him. Immediately he
returned an answer to this effect, "that if his
Lordship desired him to come to him on the most
frivolous occasion, he would obey ; but as for the
other (naming him) he was out of his books, and
he would not turn his heel where his toe was to
pay him a compliment." Of this iUustrious person
he also remarked, that he was very careful to buUd
churches, but did not care what sort of clergymen
he put in them.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 175
At Drogheda, he was told once, that the
same eminent Prelate wovdd be there the next
day. Upon which he hastened immediately out
of the town, declaring he would not see him or
speak to him, as he neglected his old curates.
In the recital of these anecdotes I have observed
as much delicacy as in my power, but it is not,
I think, the duty of a biographer to conceal the
truth. In 1 77 1, he went to live, during the winter,
with his nephew Dr. Skelton in Drogheda, and
continued to stay there in winters, tiU about 1774,
when he parted from him in a huff, on an imagi
nary insult. He had written a letter to the Revd.
Dr. King in Dublin, inviting him and his two
sisters to spend some time with him in Drogheda.
This letter lying with an other on his table, sealed,
but not directed, he by mistake directed the wrong
letter to Dr. King, and his to the other person.
When he did not get an answer from the Doctor
at the usual time, he imagined, that his nephew,
by his wife's directions, had detained the letter,
and having, on this account, treated him and
Mrs. Skelton, a lady of great gentieness and good
ness, somewhat roughly, he hastened away from
the house ; nor was he afterwards, which is very
odd, sufficientiy reconcUed to his nephew, though
he found out the mistake.
To this mistake indeed he was sometimes
subject. Dr. Scott told me, he received a letter

176 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
from him at EnniskiUen from Dublin, which was
intended for the Revd. Mr. English in the county
of Armagh, who of course got his letter.
His portmanteau was stolen from him once at
an inn in Drogheda, in which he had some
Sermons, and other curious articles he valued very
much. But the villains, I dare say, expected some
thing more substantial in it than Sermons, or the
like; otherwise, they would not so eagerly have
snatched it away, for such fellows are easy about
divinity. The air of Fintona being now too keen for him
in winter, he was at that season forced to go to a
place more suitable to his constitution. In 1775,
he went to lodge in Dublin with William Watson,
the Bookseller, where he staid two or three winters.
As yet he returned to Fintona before Easter
Sunday, when he began his lectures on the
catechism, which continued sixteen weeks.
Even in his old age he preserved some remains
of his juvenUe strength. Two fellows were boxing
in an inn at Fintona, and he happened to see them ;
on which he ran in between them, to part them,
which he accomplished with diflficulty ; this vexed
him, and made him say, " O, if I were as strong as
when I was young, I could easily master you
both." When he got them asunder, he held
them at arm's length, and said, " now you dogs
spit your venom at each other."
He was always angry at any one who showed

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 177
himself cowardly, and once gave a woman half a
crown for beating a man who strove to take a
child from her.
WhUe he lodged with WiUiam Watson, he
preached a Sermon at St. Andrew's on Friday
December 13, 1776, being the day appointed for
a general fast and humUiation. Some time before,
the Rector of that parish waiting on him requested
him to preach on the ensuing fast ; he pleaded
his age and infirmities as his excuse, but desired
the Rector to block out a Sermon himself, and he
would correct it. Accordingly, a few days before
the day appointed, he brought him the Sermon
which he had made to have it corrected by him.
But on examining it, he found it would be easier
for him, as he told me, to make a new Sermon of
his own, than to correct his nonsense, and therefore
bade him take his Sermon home with him, and he
would preach himself. His appearance on that
day was suitable to the occasion. His wig was
quite brown, it had not even the colour of powder
in it ; his gown was old and rusty, his face fur
rowed with wrinkles, and venerable by age ; his
person tall, though somewhat bent by years. In
fact he bore a resemblance to one in mourning
commissioned to remind the world of the judg
ments of God brought on them for their sins.
In the pulpit, old as he was, he displayed his
usual vehemence ; he spoke with abhorrence
of the corruptions and infidelity of the age ; he
1703-1 M

178 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
seemed to retain his wonted eloquence, and had
an astonishing effect upon his hearers.
After service, Mr. Skelton, the Rector of the
parish, and some more clergymen were sitting In
the vestry, when the Rector, who wore a very fine
powdered wig, said to him, by way of compliment,
"I wish I could exchange heads with you;"
"would you," said Skelton, " wig and all .'"' This
raised a loud laugh.
The Sermon, at the desire of the parishioners,
and many clergymen who were present, was pub
lished for the benefit .of the charity schools of the
parish. It is an animated composition, but dis
plays evident marks of hurry.
The regular series of events conducts me to
another conspicuous period ofhis life. At Fintona
there was no trade or manufacture but that of yarn,
from the sale of which, and of some oatmeal after
a plentiful harvest they derived the little money
they had. Their mode of subsistence was there
fore very precarious, of which the poor in that
place were made too sensible about 1778, when
they were in a vety distressed state. The yarn for
a year before had been remarkably cheap, and the
provisions for three years constantly rising in price.
Hence he perceived a famine must ensue, and was
anxious to provide against this calamity. But he
was scarce ever so 111 prepared for it as then, for
with difficulty he had scraped up, on account of
the general distress, even a small part of his

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 179'
parochial income ; all of which, except what barely
afforded him subsistence, he had already given
away to the poor, their necessities were so urgent.
When his money was all gone, he still saw their
wants and the price of provisions increasing daily
to an alarming degree. This forced him, about
the beginning of spring, in compassion to their
unhappy state, to borrow sixty four pounds to buy
oatmeal for them ; which sum, being sent to Drog
heda for that purpose, produced but four tun of
meal including the expense of carriage ; a supply
that was sufficient for some months to relieve those
poor that stood most in need of it. But In time
this charitable donation began to faU, whUe the
necessities and the number of the indigent were
daily Increasing. He. was then obliged, as the
last resource, to write a circular letter setting forth
their distresses, a copy of which he sent to each of
those gentiemen who had landed property in the
parish. Of this letter I obtained a copy at Fintona,
and thus got some satisfactory Intelligence respect
ing the dearth. He tells them of the afflictions of
the poor, by the cheapness of the yarn, and the
growing price of provisions, which had now
produced a famine ; " that this famine, which was
in a manner general through Europe, was attended
in his parish by two epidemic distempers, the
small-pox, and a purple fever, that raged with
great violence ; that from one or other of these
scarce a family was free ; so that in many houses,
M 2

i8o THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
out of seven or eight inhabitants, there was not
one able to attend the rest, or to search the fields,
or ditches, for sorrel and netties, to relieve a
perishing parent or chUd ; that some months before
he had borrowed sixty four pounds to buy meal
for them, all of which was almost expended now,
though the dearth had not as yet arrived at its
height ; that he had no other prospect but of
a broken heart, nor his numerous poor any hope
of redress but in death, unless the gentlemen who
had estates in the parish would lend their aid ; that
the tenants on his glebe, and his tithe-farmers owed
him more than would be sufficient to preserve his
poor, but should he attempt to force payment, he
would do It in vain, or increase, instead of mitigating
the calamity."
This letter had the desired effect. To each of
the gentlemen he appointed their quota, in pro
portion to their quantity of land In the parish.
The portion assigned Sir George Saville, who had
two hundred a year in it, was il. 135. i\d. ; which
sum he thought so moderate that he ordered his
agent to give It annuaUy to the poor of Fintona
during his life. Mr. Eccles, his squire, and Miss
Ecklln of Stephen's Green gave the most.
A great part of this money he laid out immedi
ately on oatmeal, which was bought In Drogheda,
and conveyed by carmen to Fintona In certain
quantities as necessaty. On Friday, which was
the market-day, he appointed to divide it among

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. isf
the poor. Part of it he intended to give away,
and part to sell at a lower rate. The former was
placed in the parlour of his own lodgings ; the
latter in the street. On the first day of the division,
having dressed himself in his gown and band, he
asked Mr. Eccles, who was present, if he had
a fine suit of clothes, who told him he had, and put
on a suit of green and gold. Thus equipt they
both walked out into the street, when the poor,
anxious for food, gathered about them in crowds.
Mr. Skelton then spoke to them thus ; " My
good people, don't despair ; after all the meal we
bought, we have stUl money remaining. You see
Mr. Eccles here ready to help you ; the rest of the
gentlemen of property have also contributed, and
I your minister, as usual, will assist you. Those
that have money will get meal for three pence
a peck lower than the market price, and those that
have no money will get it for nothing ; but the
poor that have no money must be served first."
During that summer, from May till September,
he distributed gratis among his indigent parishioners
an hundred and twenty five pecks of meal every
week. In this account the meal sold at a low rate,
which was far more, is not included. For that
time there were on the poor's list from an hundred
and sixty to two hundred, all of whom used to
assemble on the market-day in the street opposite
his parlour window. When he was ready to divide
the meal, he put his head out of the window, and

i82 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
shouted to them, " come all of you and get your
shares." Then each of them was handed his share
out of the window.
A decent-looking woman, he told me, came to
him then one day to his lodgings, and falling down
on her knees to him declared she and her family
were starving ; but she was ashamed to take meal
with the rest, having never been accustomed to ask
charity before. Moved by her tender tale, he
relieved her privately, and kept her alive.
One poor man a Roman Catholic, to whom he
offered meal, refused to take any of it, saying he
had a lock of potatoes at home which would keep
him from starving, and bade him give the meal to
those who had more need for it. It is rare to
meet with such an instance of self-denial even
among those who pretend to finer feelings than this
poor illiterate man.
The meal being once all spent before a fresh
supply arrived from Drogheda, Mr. Skelton was
then just sitting down to his breakfast on a Friday
morning, when he asked the people he lodged with,
if the meal had come from Drogheda for the poor .''
They answered, " no." " What, you thieves,"
said he, " will I feed myself while my poor are
starving .'' " and sent off immediately before he
would eat. a morsel himself, and bought as much
meal at a dear rate as was sufficient for that day's
division. Having some suspicions that both meal and

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 183
money should fail before the dearth would end, he
starved himself, I may say, of the common neces
saries of life, to buy more meal for those in need.
As a substitute for snuff, which was also very dear,
he made use of a sort of snuff of heath, which he
had manufactured on that occasion, and also pinched
himself of food, eating only a little slink- veal every
day for his dinner, as much as was barely sufficient
to subsist on. The most indulgent father could
not have the welfare of his famUy nearer his heart,
than Mr. Skelton had that of his people. He used
to say triumphantiy, " they all came through, and
none of them starved."
At this season of calamity, the lady of Mr. Knox,
formerly a pupU of his at Monaghan, who was
then deputy secretary of state, sent over money to
his poor. Upon which he and his congregation
publicly prayed for her and her husband. It is to
be supposed, that they were not unmindful in their
prayers of the rest of their benefactors.
In this year, or in the one immediately before
or after, he sold his books, which consisted of seven
hundred volumes, for a hundred pound*, to his
intimate friend Dr. Woodward, Dean of Clogher,
who is now the well-known Bishop of Cloyne ;
a Prelate whose arguments are able to convince,
and his eloquence to please and reform. The
defect of his faculties, which made him unfit to take
* At Fintona they assured me he got but a hundred pound
for them, though I thought he told me he got more.

i84 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
care of them, was his ostensible reason for parting
with them ; but the real cause of it was, that he
wanted money to give his poor, and the year after
he bestowed on them sixty pounds. Some books
that the Doctor did not choose to take he gave his
Curate Mr. Auchinleck.
In hard times he made a present of half a year's
rent to his poor tenants on the glebe, and, if absent,
wrote to his tithe-farmer to give each of them
a receipt for that sum.
In times of moderate plenty, he used to dis
tribute money among indigent housekeepers, who
yet strove to preserve a decent appearance. James
West, with whom he lodged, often conducted him
by his own desire to the dwellings of such, that he
himself might examine into their state. Yet he at
last made it a point not to give any thing away in
charity in any house where he was called upon to
visit a sick person ; having been deceived by those
pretending to be sick that they might get money
from him. He was once sent for to visit a sick
woman, but when he came near the house, he saw
her running hastily in, that she might get into bed
before he would come.
It might be mentioned here, that Miss Ecklin
of Stephen's Green, who was always so liberal to
his poor, in the spring of 1788, bestowed on her
poor tenants of Fintona thirty pounds to buy flax
seed, which with her is a usual donation.
In September 177S, he went up to Dublin in his

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 185
chaise, and drove on to St. Mary's church, where
Mr. Jameson one of the curates happened to be
at prayers. After prayers he said to him, "you
must take me in, I am come to lodge with you."
Mr. Jameson told him it would be very Incon
venient for him, as his house was too small, and so
on. But Mr. Skelton still insisting, he was forced
to submit. He lived there some time very happily,
untU one night, that he went early to bed, there
was a good deal of smoke in the house, which
caused them to open the windows in the story
above him to let out the smoke. This It seems
disturbed him, and made him suppose they rattled
the windows on purpose to make the house
disagreeable to him. Next morning he told them
his mind, and would not be convinced by their
account of the smoke, but left the house Imme
diately, nor could they prevail on him to come
back to lodge with them again.
On the ensuing summer he returned to Fintona ;
but as he was then on the point of leaving it
entirely, it may not be improper to introduce here
a few more particulars of his conduct while there.
He not only assisted his poor by his charities,
but also strove to promote his decent parishioners'
children, if they got a suitable education. He told
me, he wrote a whole quire of paper in letters,
striving to get ordained a widow's son In Fintona,
who was educated in the university of Edinburgh ;
but at last effected it by the kindness of his friend

i86 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
the late Dean of Down. For this young gentieman,
who was worthy of every attention, he soon obtained
a very beneficial cure, which he holds at present
under a clergyman * who, in point of character and
fortune, is one of the most respectable persons in
our church.
There was one Joseph Moore a miller's son at
Fintona, whom he discovered to be a boy of great
genius, and therefore sent him at his own expense
to the school of EnnlskUlen, where he lived In the
house with Dr. Scott, and afterwards had him
entered in our university ; but he died before he
had completed his education, having naturally
a tender constitution.
Dr. Gormley, the physician of Fintona, dying In
very low circumstances, left behind him a helpless
family of daughters. On which, Mr. Skelton, who
was always a friend to the distressed, took the poor
orphans under his care, and supported them till he
put them in a way of supporting themselves.
Those of them, that were of an age fit for it, he
recommended 'for waiting-maids to ladles of for
tune. One of them lived in that capacity with
Miss Brooke, who afterwards Informed him by
letter, that the girl, who was bred a catholic, had
voluntarUy conformed to the protestant religion ;
which intelligence, It may be supposed, was very
agreeable to him ; though he had always, through
a principle of delicacy, avoided speaking to her on
* Dr. Leslie of Tanderagee.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 187
the subject of her religion, lest he might appear to
use his influence on her in so nice a point, where
one should be directed, not by complaisance, but
conscience. One of these came to see him in
Dublin, about the year 1782, and kneeled down
on her knees to him to ask his blessing. Many
indeed has he supported that were left desolate on
the world.
Having toUed now fifty years In the office of the
ministry with as much dUigence as ever man did
before, he found himself at length, through age
and infirmities, incapable for the discharge of his
public duty. His frame was now unable, as men
tioned already, to withstand the keen sharp country
air, especiaUy in winter, as every blast pierced
through him. He could not bear, he thought, the
fatigue of travelling ninety miles every summer,
from DubUn to Fintona, and of returning thence
on the approach of winter. He therefore took his*
final departure from it, about 1780, and removed
to Dublin, to end his days. His carriage and
horses he made a present of to Mr. Leslie, of
Nutfield, in the county of Fermanagh. At that
time he boarded and lodged with Samuel Watson,
the bookseller, who lived in Dame-Street. For
himself and servant he paid him about seventy
pounds a year, and provided his own wine.
My acquaintance commenced with this most
excellent man in January 178 1. A relation of
mine,, whose pleasure is to do good, took a filial

iSS THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
care of his two old sisters living in Dromore ; for
which kindness he being vety grateful expressed
his desire to do as much for my friend, who only
asked, that he would shew some countenance to me
who was then a student in the universitv. Upon
this he told him plainly, he could not promise to
be of any use to me in the church, having but littie
interest in it, but he would assist me with his good
advice. In compliance with his desire I waited on
him at his lodgings, and found him in his bed
chamber, where he always sat unless when he had
company he could not make free with. He was
a remarkably taU large man ; his e\-ebrows were
quite grey ; his shoiUders somewhat bent by age ;
and his bones nearly twice the size of those of an
ordinaty man. He wore a brown wig, a blue coat
with black cuffs, the breast of which was covered
over with snuff, black velveret waistcoat and
breeches, yarn stockings made of black wool, and
smaU sUver buckles in his shoes. His countenance
showed he had been handsome in his youth, and
visibly displayed in it that genuine phUanthropy
which he possessed in such an eminent degree.
He received me with kindness free from ostenta
tion ; but began soon to rally me for having bright
steel buttons on my coat, which he thought too gay
for one of a bachelor's standing in the universit}'.
" You're finely dressed (he observed) with your
fine bright buttons ; I thought you were a man of
sense and a scholar, but I have been deceived.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 189
1 find ; I believe you are but an indifferent sort of
a body ; I always judge of a man by his buttons."
However, in a few minutes he became more civU,
and, after conversing on different subjects, we
parted on good terms. I renewed my visits, to
which I was enticed by his agreeable and instructive
conversation ; but took care never to show him the
bright buttons again.
His manner of living then was simple and regular.
He rose at nine o'clock in the morning, and took
a breakfast of herb-tea, having not drunk foreign
tea for thirty years before. Then he passed about
an hour at prayer. After prayer he read two
chapters in the old testament, two In the new, and
four psalms, which latter, as he told us, conduced
to enliven his piety. Then he generally amused
himself at entertaining books until dinner, and after
spending an hour at it, read untU nine o'clock at
night, when he took a supper of bread and whey,
and then summoned the people he lived with to
family-prayer ; after which he employed himself
at his books until eleven, and went to bed. His
bed-chamber was like a stove, he kept It so close,
and burnt in It, except in the heat of summer,
night and day such huge fires. This was his
general way of living. Now and then indeed he
went out to pay visits to those he esteemed, and
attended church regularly every Sunday, where he
still sat in the reading-desk. At his lodgings he
was visited sometimes by ecclesiastics of con-

190 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
sequence, and others ; but more usually by poor
curates and readers, to whom he preached up
content with their condition, and submission to
superiors. Indeed he was always giving them
good advice, reminding them of the 'sacred obliga
tion laid on them, and telling them how they
should be useful to the souls and bodies of the
people under their care. He also now and then
offered a littie advice to his superiors, some of
whom were not offended at his freedom.
Among these may be reckoned the Archbishop
of Dublin. His Grace having paid him a visit at
Mr. Watson's, he ventured to give him some advice,
and at the same time begged pardon for the liberty
he took. On which this Prelate politely replied,
" Sir, it is usual to look up to Bishops, but 1 look
up to you." He recommended once a candidate
for holy orders to his Grace, observing, that he
was only acquainted with him for one year, but
knew more of him during that time than others
could ordinarily do in three years. " I'll ordain
him," he rejoined, " on this recommendation." The
Archbishop, who was fond of his company, often
pressed him to come and dine with him, but he
declined his kind invitations, as he did not choose
to be out at night, which he found hurtful to his
constitution. His Grace offered then to send his
carriage for him, and home with him. Once he
seemed to consent to go, but when the hour of the
day approached, he sent an apology, apprehensive

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 191
of getting cold. It is pleasing to see the second
character in the Irish church pay such attention to
so good a man. Mr. Skelton was sensible of his
kindness, and used to say that this Prelate was
a good-natured man, and a friend to religion.
" He is warm," he remarked, " but that Is a con
comitant of good nature." He then mentioned an
Instance of his Grace's conduct, in his public
capacity, highly to his honour ; but it is not, I
think, prudent to publish it, lest it should seem to
reflect on a certain eminent layman. On another
occasion he observed, that no one read the service
ofour church with so much solemnity and devotion
as the Archbishop of Dublin.
His first visit to the Archbishop at his palace
put him in mind of a sharp remark of the famous
Archbishop King's, which he mentioned to his
Grace the present Archbishop. When he was last
in that room, he was just going, he said, to take
his degree, having, with some more candidates for
degrees, accompanied the proctor who brought
them, as usual, to present them to his Grace.
They found the old Archbishop sitting on a chair,
and propt up with pillows on every side of him,
having before him a table with two or three folios
on it. After the ceremony of introduction, his
Grace being informed that one of the candidates
was a young Lord who had been very attentive to
his books, and was a good scholar, he said to him
in a drawling voice, " My Lord, I am happy to

192 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
find you have been so dUigent, and have made
such proficiency in your learning, but 1 have
a piece of advice to give you, which I hope you
wUl take, be as unlike the rest of the Lords of
Ireland as you can, and then you'll do very well,
you'll do very well."
Mr. Skelton, I believe, commenced his acquain
tance with the Bishop of Cloyne when he was
Dean of Clogher, for whom and for his family he
had a high respect. His opinion of this Prelate's
great abUities both as a preacher and a writer was
such as is generally held in this kingdom, and even
acknowledged by most of his opponents. His
Lordship, he said, exceeded all preachers in tones,
and Dr. Campbell In propriety of action ; which
latter he ascribed to his extraordinary sklU in
drawing. The Bishop of Raphoe he esteemed for
refusing, when he was a Dean, on a scruple of
conscience, another good living when It was offered
to him. With respect to himself, he prayed God
might strike him dead when he formed a thought
of taking two livings. Once, he said, he could
have obtained a second living, but he refused.
Yet we must not suppose that he spoke always
in a strain of high panegyric of dignified eccle
siastics. But it would not be safe to touch on this
delicate subject, and therefore at present every
reader must strive to form a supposition for himself
I might produce here some of his sharp remarks
both on persons and practices, which, however

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 193
agreeable to others, would probably be injurious to
myself. He used to advise Bishops to take care
of their old curates, and reward their faithful
services. To one in particular, to whom he gave
this ad\nce, he said, " My Lord, if you do so, the
curates wUl be more attentive to their duty, for
I must say, to the shame and scandal of the clergy,
that there is scarce one of them who would not do
more for a living of a hundred a year than for the
whole Kingdom of Heaven." However, his advice
was so disagreeable to the Bishop, that he could
never after gain an admittance into his Lorciship's
presence. His late Rector Mr. Hawkshaw, whom in jest
he called Metisk-r, when he came to Dublin, paid
him frequent visits. Indeed, from their first
acquaintance they had lived on the most friendly
footing, in the mutual exchange of every kind office.
In February 1781, the late Dr. Forsayth of
Trinity College waiting on Mr. Skelton informed
him that the university, sensible of his great
merit, had sent him to offer him the degree of
Doctor of Divinity, if he would accept of it. Yet
he declined this Intended honour with expressions
of gratitude to the university, observing that he
was too old to assume any new titie. He told me,
he was unable from age and Infirmities to go
through the coUegiate exercises appointed on such
occasions, and otherwise he would not take the
degree. Besides, he said Jesus Christ forbade him

194 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
to be a Doctor, quoting a text of scripture which
he imagined to favour this odd opinion.
If a Doctor of Divinity ought to be deeply read
in the science he professes, there were but few so
well qualified as he to obtain that distinction.
The perusal ofthe holy scriptures employed a great
part of his time, to which he was excited by a sense
of duty, making use of all human means necessary
to assist him in that spiritual study. His know
ledge in divinity was equal to his dUigence, of
which he has given evident proofs by his learned
works upon that subject. For the assistance I
received from him in that most useful science I have
a right to be grateful. He advised me to read
Leland's view ofthe state of religion In the Heathen
world, which, he said, was the best book extant on
the subject, candidly acknowledging that that author
showed the necessity of revelation even more
clearly than he did in Deism Revealed. "When
you have read that book," he said, " you may take
the bible into your hand, for he proves it to be the
word of God." He told us it was he that first
proposed the plan of this book to Dr. Leland, but
he did not acknowledge It, though he returned
thanks in his preface for the assistance he got
from others. He recommended the study of the
Septuagint rather than the Hebrew, which was not,
he said, sufficiently understood by the critics who
revived it. He also advised me to read the Greek
testament without a comment, that I might hence

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 195
perceive the meaning which the original language
naturally presented ; and explained to my satis
faction some passages which I could not fully
understand. In the margin of his bible he wrote
many curious explanatory notes, the most of which
he afterwards published in his Senilia.
His knowledge, however, was not confined to
divinity. He was a complete master of every
subject literary men usuaUy converse on. I have
gained more information by two hours' conversation
with him on an evening, than I did by studying
hard at books a whole day. A young gentleman,
a member of a debating society in the university,
who was obliged to be prepared on a certain night
In a part of the Life of Philip of Macedon, told
me, that he happened to call on Mr. Skelton a day
or two before the time, who acquainted him more
accurately in an hour's conversation with every
particular he wished to know, than if he had spent
a whole day reading on the subject.
Beside the assistance already mentioned he gave
me some useful advice with respect to composition.
In compliance with his desire I showed him some
littie pieces in prose of my own composition, which
he found great fault with for want of perspicuity.
I was therefore forced to pluck out of them many
fine flowers which served only to conceal the sense.
He advised me to' copy some parts of Swift, of
Robertson's History of Scotland, and of Blair's
Sermons, to improve my style ; of which I found
N 2

196 THE LIFE OF SKELTON
the advantage. It is, however, necessaty to
observe, that every man of genius writes in a style
peculiar to himself; he has a just confidence in
his own powers, and dares to judge for himself.
Many writers of inferior abilities have made
themselves completely ridiculous by attempting to
imitate the peculiarities of great authors. Of all
writers, Mr. Skelton said, Lactantius was the most
clear, for in perusing him you seem to read only
ideas not words.
Having left Mr. Watson's about the beginning
of the year 1782, he went to board and lodge with
a Mr. B — in B — • Street, a curious character, with
whom he thought he should be very happy, as he
was a man of a serious turn, and fond of talking
about religion. He formerly kept a snuff-shop in
C — • Street, but having made a lucky hit at the
tobacco, as he thought, at the beginning of the war,
he then, quitting the snuff-shop, became all at once
a grand tobacco merchant. In his rellglousopinions
he was somewhat fickle, for he generally changed
them once a year ; having been in his time a Church-
of-England-Man, Moravian, Anabaptist, Presby
terian, Quaker, Seceder, Newlight-Man, Oldlight-
Man, Mountain-Man, and the like. Skelton and
he were then often together, for he used to break
in on him to argue with him on religious matters.
They argued then furiously whole hours at once ;
but B — , he acknowledged, beat him at quoting
scripture, as he had it all by heart. He had odd

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 197
notions then about the influence of the Spirit, and
forms of prayer, supporting them with great
vehemence ; which made me ask Mr. Skelton if
he were a Methodist ? " Oh yes," he said,
" a powerful Methodist, he is inspired." Yet with
aU his religion he was a littie fleshly given, as I am
assured, though he had a wife of his own. Indeed
you would not suspect this from his appearance,
for he was a gross littie man, dressed in a blue
coat, with a grave melancholy face ; somewhat
bald ; having a few gray hairs scattered on the
back of his head, and hanging stiffly down. You
would rather, indeed, on looking at him, suspect
he was a Methodist Preacher, an office, I believe,
he sometimes used ; at least, if he did not preach
publicly, he exhorted the brethren in private.
Mr. Skelton's situation here was not over plea
sant. He was by nature of a social turn, and
from age often stood in need of company ; there
fore he now and then asked his friends to dine
with him, when he always paid for their dinner ;
but this, it seems, was not agreeable to Mrs. B — ,
who set up for a grand lady, and did not choose to
entertain the persons he asked to her house, though
these were such as might amuse and instruct her.
He told me once he was sorry he could not ask
me to dine with him, as Mr. B — had sent him
a letter into his room a day or two before, inform
ing him, it was inconvenient for his wife to
entertain his company ; so that, if he could not be

198 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
without these, he must change his lodgings. He
said, he would provide other lodgings for himself
before winter ; but he would soon go out to the
Phcenlx-Park to spend one or two of the summer
months at the Hibernian School *.
He had boarded and lodged the summer before
in the same place, at the house of the Revd. Mr.
O'NeiU chaplain to the School, who, having a relish
for his conversation, used every means to make
his house agreeable to him. About June of this year
he went out to live at this gentleman's during the
summer, having left Mr. B — 's in consequence of
the letter he received. Soon after his arrival here
he got a terrible fall which might have killed
an ordinary person of his age, but it did him no
harm. However, he took it into his head about
the end of July, that he was just going to die, and
was visited then, among others of consequence, by
Dr. Hastings, and the Bishop of Cloyne. His
disorder at that time was, I believe, mostly the
effects of Imagination. At least his physician
Dr. Fleury seemed to think so. Yet it was observed,
that in the latter part of his life he was not so
much affected with imaginary complaints as before.
Experience had probably in some degree convinced
him of the inanity of his gloomy conjectures, and
therefore he did not yield so much to the influence
of Imagination.
* A School for educating the orphans and children of
Soldiers in Ireland.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 199
A few weeks after he was attacked by this dis
order, I wrote him a letter from the North of Ire
land, requesting his assistance in a particular affair ;
on which occasion he applied in my behalf with
the sincerity of a friend. In his answer he men
tioned, as the business seemed to require, what
a high respect the late Dean BaUie had for a certain
Illustrious lady, who was so eminent for her charities,
and then made use of these words ; " The Dean
knows me too, but affects to revolve in an orbit so
far above me, as scarce to see me twinkling below
him ; the distance equally diminishes his magnitude
to my eyes."
While he staid at the Hibernian School, he
catechised the children every Sunday In the chapel
at the communion table, and lectured most in
structively on the catechism. One of his lectures
I had the happiness to hear, and was pleased and
improved by it. He was indeed remarkably fond
both of soldiers and seamen, and once gave this
advice to Miss Bruce, " marry a soldier, my girl,
for you will find more honest soldiers than honest
parsons." He offered ten guineas to make a reservoir to
keep water in for the benefit of the school, on con
dition it should be built with stones alone without
mortar, which he thought would make it more
durable. But the mason refusing to comply of
course did not get the money.
On his return to Dublin about the beginning of

200 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
October, he took up his abode in Trinity Street,
at the house of Kinahan and Gregg, grocers, with
whom he had agreed for his diet and lodging.
The Dublin Evening Post being published next
door to him, I once asked him if he ever read it .''
" No," he replied, " I have not read a newspaper
these five years past, I have nothing to do with this
world ; for I am just on the point of leaving it.
Besides, they are all full of malice which must offend
a christian to see." When I remarked to him that
he seemed to know all that was In the papers, he
observed, that he heard it from those who came to
see him, as they were often talking of politics.
His antagonist Mr. B — , at whose house he
lodged before, used to visit him In Trinity Street,
and argue with his usual violence, being very stiff
In the opinions he adopted for the time. He had
then, it seems, assumed some new notions, as he
was not so much of a Methodist as formerly. One
evening I was sitting with Mr. Skelton when his
servant brought him in a letter, which, on opening,
he perceived to come from B — , stuffed with texts
of scripture, on some of the points they were dis
puting about a day or two before. For B — , as It
suited him, attacked his adversary either in close
fight, or threw his darts at a distance ; so eager
was he for victory. He was strenuous in asserting
the necessity of extempore prayer, despising all
forms, as is usual with fanatics.
A few more particulars of this original character

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 201
may, not improperly, be introduced here. In
January, 1787, having come to Dublin after two
years' absence, I saw him walking through the
streets with a long gray beard, like that of an old
Turk or Rabbi. On inquiry, I found he had
appeared in that trim some time before in a coffee
house, when the people, gathering about him, asked
him why he wore the long beard .'' He replied
gravely, he would not shave his beard tUl he had
paid his debts, having faded in the year 1785.
Soon after his failure, on a meeting of his creditors
at his house, they asked him how he could account
for the great deficiency in his affairs ? On which
he caUed for the bible, that he might reply
scripturally, and read to them the first verse of
the thirtieth chapter of Job in a grave solemn
voice ; " but now they that are younger than I, have me
in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to
have set with the dogs of my flock." This was the only
answer he would give them. When one of them
a Mr. L — said to him, " these are two handsome
pistols over the fire-side." "Yes they are," he
replied. Then taking them down, he put one
into his hand, and kept the other to himself, and
said to him, " will you take a shot .-' " Which
made Mr. L — run out of the house in dread of
his life. Thus did he settle accounts with his
creditors. Some time after my return to the country I re
ceived a letter from a friend in Dublin, a man of

202 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
real original humour, informing me, that Mr. B — ,
who had so often changed his religions before, had
now at last turned Papist. He enclosed me B — 's
Apology to the public for so doing, with his name
annexed. It was printed and spread through
Dublin to justify his character which was mali
ciously attacked by some evil-minded persons. In
this he candidly owns his having adopted at dif
ferent times the religious opinions of almost every
species of protestants. On his becoming a Papist
he shaved his beard, and resumed his usual ap
pearance ; on which my friend's little nephew,
who heard him declaring in the coffee-house he
would not shave his beard till he had paid his
debts, came running up to him one day with joy
in his face, and said, " uncle ! uncle ! B — has
paid his debts, for I see him walking through the
streets without the beard."
Having been drawn naturally into this short
digression, I return now to the course of my nar
rative. In 1782, Mr. Skelton was deprived by death
of his old friend and patron the Bishop of Clogher,
who lived until he was above ninety ; so long did
It please God to bless the world with this good
Bishop, who, to the honour of his country, was
born in England. He had the satisfaction of hav
ing promoted some worthy men of great merit,
but little interest ; among whom, beside Mr. Skel
ton, is Dr. Thomas Campbell, who has paid a just

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 203
tribute of praise to him In the Philosophical Survey
of Ireland. The Bishop was a pious, humble, good-
natured man, a generous encourager of literature,
kind to his domestics, and justly esteemed by all
those who had an opportunity of knowing his
virtue. This same year produced also another event,
which affected Mr. Skelton even more sensibly
than the death of his good friend the Bishop of
Clogher. It being uncommonly wet and cold both
in seed-time and summer, the poor scanty crop,
that escaped from the inclemency of the weather,
was not fit to be cut down until winter approached,
and then it was mostly destroyed by the rain.
Mr. Skelton foresaw, with many others, that a
dearth should be the consequence of all this, and
endeavoured, like the Patriarch of Egypt, to provide
against this calamity. In the winter he sent first
a large sum of his own to Drogheda to buy oatmeal
for his poor, and then applied, as usual, to those
who had landed property in the parish ; all of
whom contributed except a Mr. D — who holds
a bishop's lease. With these contributions, and an
additional sum of his own, he bought more meal
at Drogheda, where the whole was stored during
the winter, in order to be conveyed In certain
portions to his parish, when the dearth should
require it. He was not deceived in his appre
hensions. The famine that prevaUed in the
summer of 1783, was the most severe that even

204 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
history records to have taken place in Ireland.
The poor in many parts must have died of hunger,
had they not been relieved by the liberal donations
of those whom Providence blessed with riches.
While the famine was advancing towards its
height, Mr. John Latouche carried a message to
Mr. Skelton from his father to this effect, that if he
wanted money to buy meal for his poor, he might
draw on his bank for any sum he stood in need
of, which he would willingly bestow for so good
a purpose. Mr. Skelton, who had never seen the
good old gentleman, being surprised at this un
common liberality, replied, that he was very grate
ful for his kind offer, but that he had sufficient to
keep his poor alive without taking money from him,
who employed his wealth in doing good. The
generosity of this truly charitable man, who is now
gone to reap the fruits of his labours, and of his
worthy family, whose purses have also been always
open to relieve the distressed, is sufficiently known
in this kingdom without any commendation of mine.
Mr. Skelton, during this dearth, intrusted the
distribution of the meal to his curate Mr. Auchin
leck, who assured me, that this good clergyman
laid out on it, beside the contribution of others,
two hundred pounds of his own. At dinner he
used to say to us, I cannot suffer my poor
parishioners to starve in hard times, for they have
fed me on good fare these many years past. His
first toast now after dinner was the famUy of the

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 205
Latouches, who had souls, he said, of a superior
nature to the generality of m.en. His next was
Richmond the dancing- master, which he usually
prefaced with these words ; " I give you the health
of a hero, Richmond the dancing-master." He
then told us of the noble exploits performed by
this brave old man, a short account of which
I transcribe from his Senilia.
" One night, after his seventy fifth year, having
" read prayers with his famUy, he heard, as he
"was going to bed, a loud cry of murder in a
" female voice, repeated from an house, not far
" from his own, in Prince's Street, Dublin. This
" hurried him down to his parlour with a case of
" pistols in his hands, followed by his daughter.
"The cry still continuing, he opened a window,
"but it was too dark without to see any thing.
" Having a providential apprehension for his
" daughter, though none for himself, he had just
" time to push her from the window behind the
" adjoining pier, when one of the robbers, of whom
" there were six, fired on him, and the ball passed
" through the place where his daughter stood.
" Richmond, by the light of the villain's discharge,
" shot him dead. He and a brave servant-boy
"of his then saUied into the street, where per-
" ceiving by the woman's cries, that the rest of the
"gang had got into the house of a neighbour con-
" fined to his bed by sickness, and were by re-
" peated wounds murdering the servant-maid, he.

2o6 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
" his boy, and some of the watch then coming to
"his assistance, soon cleared the house, fought
"the gang in the street, knocked one of them
" down with a clubbed pistol, pursued the rest,
" and took two of them, whom he lodged in New-
"gate, before he returned to his terrified family.
"The prisoners he afterwards prosecuted to the
"gallows. It was but too plain, this was the first
" time the brave man had been concerned in
"blood. It was with difficulty that the minister
" of his parish could prevent his sinking under
" the grief of having sent a fellow-creature into
" eternity with a load of guilt on his head. Some
" time after, this undaunted man going homeward
" at night, found a servant boy crying In the street,
" who had been just then robbed by three footpads
" of a tankard, which he had been sent out with
" for some drink. These Richmond instantly pur-
" sued into a close back-yard, being joined by
" a stranger of a spirit like his own. They were
" fired upon by the villains, but they took two of
" them, and afterwards had them convicted and
" executed. It has been said, that my hero
" acquitted himself with simUar honour In a third
" adventure with robbers, the particulars of which
" I am not acquainted with."
If Richmond had lived in heroic ages, he would
have been crowned with laurel, he said, as a public
benefactor of mankind ; and then accused this
country of ingratitude for not rewarding his use-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 207
ful services. The Duke of Rutland, during his
lieutenancy, once met Mr. Richmond in the park,
and asked him, if he were the person mentioned
by Mr. Skelton in his last volume ? He answered
he was. His Grace then promised to provide for
him, but died before he was able to effect It.
A few months before the dearth already men
tioned, a young man from Fintona, who was then
a journey-man apothecary In Dublin, being at
tacked by a violent disorder, Mr. Skelton paid a
nurse-tender half a guinea a week to take care of
him, and employed a physician to visit him twice
a day. When he grew a littie better, he sent him
to Fintona for the advantage of his native air, and
on his return to Dublin had a place provided for
him. His father, who was then dead, had been
a great favourite with Mr. Skelton, as he dealt
extensively in linen-yarn, and was thus very useful
to the industrious poor at Fintona.
WhUe he was employed in supplying the wants
of his indigent parishioners, he had an interview,
in May of the same year, (1783) with the late
missionary Mr. Wesley, who was then also engaged
in his work of charity. This being their first meet
ing, they had no religious altercation. A few
days after Mr. Wesley paid him a second visit,
and on the evening of the same day I happened to
visit him. He informed me then, that that gentie
man had been with him in the morning, and told
him something which he thought a littie extraor-

2o8 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
dinary. A woman had come over to him from
England, he said, who was plagued with a strange
disorder in her beUy ; on which, being pressed to
speak plainly and tell her complaint, he owned,
after some hesitation, that it was the DevU, she
said, she had got In her belly, and had applied for
cure to many protestant bishops, popish priests,
and presbyterian teachers, but all to no purpose.
" What will you do then .'' " he asked him. " I
expect," he replied, " to cure her by prayer and
fasting, and the like." " Take care, Mr. Wesley,"
he remarked, " of what you are about ; you want,
I perceive, to support your new religion by the force
of miracles ; but if you once set up for working
miracles, the people will flock to you from all
quarters, they wUl meet you in the streets and
high-ways, as they did our Saviour, and perhaps
they may take you short ; so that you may lose
more than you'll gain by pretending to work
miracles." He could not swallow Mr. Wesley's
story about the woman with the Devil in her belly,
and this gentleman thought it better to send her
home to her own country, without attempting to
take the Devil out of her.
However, If we can believe what he tells us in
his journals, he has been very successful in effect
ing some cures of this sort. He went once, as he
informs us *, to see a woman in this melancholy
* 3 .lourn. p. 95.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 209
state, and when he got to her, stoutiy asked the
DevU how he dare enter into a Christian ? On
which the DevU spoke thus to him out of her
beUy, " She is not a christian, she is mine." But
Mr. W., it seems, soon forced my gentleman to
shift his quarters.
Mr. Skelton, in his conversation with him,
talked lightiy of the common stories we hear about
devUs and ghosts, and mentioned to him in a
ludicrous way, that some people in one of his
parishes, who were wrong in the head, imagined
they were haunted by these. But Mr. W. he
said, was very grave, and did not seem willing to
join in the joke. He should indeed have been
inconsistent with himself, if he had ; for there
was scarce a magazine he put out, that had not
some marvellous story in it of this kind. Yet
he probably considered these and the like as so
many pious frauds necessary to serve the cause of
methodism, which usually has most effect on
weak minds. And indeed it is but reasonable to
think, that this extraordinary man had too much
good sense to believe every absurdity he coun
tenanced by his authority.
In June, Mr. Skelton shifted his lodgings again.
Leaving the grocer's In Trinity-street, he went to
board and lodge in Peter's-Row with the Revd.
Richard Drury, a young clergyman whom he
recommended for a cure to the Archbishop of
Dublin. His reasons for going to live with this

210 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
clergyman were such as had always an effect on
his benevolent mind.
His strenuous applications for me at this time
to certain persons of consequence, the disappoint
ments he then met with, and the excuses that were
offered, I am obliged to omit, lest I should seem
to obtrude myself or my affairs on the public
attention, which of late has been the practice of
some biographers, who had not prudence enough
to conceal their vanity. Yet I shall not, I hope,
be accused of this weakness by quoting a part of
a letter he wrote me then, especially as it contains
a general advice to every young clergyman on
undertaking the care of a parish.
" You see I have lost no time nor ground which
" I could use for you. And you see too how
" I am made accountable for you to Lord * * *.
"But pray consider, how awfully, and even
" fearfully I am made accountable for you to an
" infinitely greater Lord. You cannot blast me
"without blasting yourself in the sight of God
"and man. You are rather to derive fear than
" vanity from the high character given of you, and
" from the struggle made for you among the most
"considerable men of the time, excited by the
" providence of God. Let therefore a warm zeal
"animate you to the service and- glory of God,
" and to the salvation of souls. Let the wisdom
"of the serpent and the innocence of the dove
"direct aU your exertions. Let your words be

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 211
" few, slow, and articulate, that the hearer, whether
" in church or company, may have no trouble in
" taking your meaning, nor have occasion to find
" fault with it when he understands it. Maturely
" consider, that Lord * * *, Dean * *, and many
"others, before whom you are to appear either
"publicly or privately, have a thousand times
"more sense than you. Think therefore before
"you speak, and speak but little, enough for the
"occasion, whatever it may be, and not a syllable
" more. God direct and bless you. You cannot
"conceive how great an object of apprehension
" you are, to your poor old friend
PHIL. SKELTON."
It was indeed with propriety he prescribed to
others, who was himself so eminent for his abilities
in the pulpit, and his conduct in private life.
About the end of the same year, his ears
were stunned with the fame of the pulpit-orator.
Dr. Peckwell, who preached through Dublin in
meeting-houses, methodlst-houses and churches.
Crowds followed after him enticed by novelty, as
he preached without notes, which is a sure way of
captivating the multitude, who are always taken
with strange appearances. I went to Bride's
Church to hear him, and sat in the Reading Desk
with Mr. Skelton, who, though he complimented
him when he had finished on the orthodoxy of his
Sermon, yet afterwards remarked to me, that his
o 2

212 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
action seemed more violent than proper. " When
I looked up at him," he said, " I saw his arms
from my seat under the pulpit moving over my
head, like the arms of a wind-mUl." He also
observed, that he was too handsome for a preacher,
as the women, instead of profiting by his sermons,
would be only wishing to be in bed with hlrti.
Our Saviour's person and face were, he said, on
that account, rather ordinary, as some ofthe Fathers
inform us. About three months after, he sent
him from England a sermon he had just then
published, the merits of which I thought not
extraordinary. But a cold phlegmatic reader is
not so easily pleased as a hearer who is warmed
and captivated by the voice, gesticulations and
countenance of the extempore preacher. Adde
vultum habitumque hominis.
To remedy in some degree the inconvenience
that attends the use of notes, Mr. Skelton advised
me to follow his method of copying my sermons
in a large fair hand. It was indeed his ardent
wish, that the clergy of our church, in their public
and private conduct, should afford no pretence
for the cavUs of sectaries, some of whom tell us
we read our sermons like a ballad. Yet he was
possessed, I think, with an unreasonable dread of
the presbyterians ; for he imagined they would
have taken his living from him before he died ;
one of them, he said, who was a volunteer, told
him so. But his apprehensions, we may suppose.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 213
were partly the effects of old age. Senectus falsd
formidine ludit.
If the people of our church were allowed to
adopt the presbyterian mode of choosing their
own clergy, it would produce, he said, more harm
than good. For in that case, the landlords would
oblige them to vote for those they pleased, as they
do now at elections, because it would then be
worth their while to interfere to get a friend or
a relation a good living. " If so " (he continued)
" I should never have got a living, for my father
was only a plain countryman." But if there were
opposite interests in a parish, this would produce
boxing, quarrelling, and ill will. It appears then,
that injustice would be done according to that
mode ; injustice, it is owned, is also done now,
and since injustice must be done, let it be done
quietly. He was not only qualified for sober reasoning
of this kind, but could adapt his conversation and
behaviour to his company. I never found him
out of temper, but always gay and good-humoured.
He was never sour or sullen with the young, but
made a proper aUowance for the levities peculiar
to their age, having nothing of the old man about
him, except that he was a little deaf Of children
he was remarkably fond, and could spend hours
with them partaking of their little sports.
Some time after this he consented to dine
with a certain Bishop, on condition he would

214 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
have dinner on the table at two o'clock ; but
Mr. Skelton came exactiy at twelve, when his Lord
ship and his lady were going out on business. The
Bishop told him he was very sorry he came so
soon, as Mrs. * * and he were obliged to go out,
and could not be home until two. But he observed,
that his Lordship need not be concerned, as he
would amuse himself with " these sweet littie
things," pointing to the chUdren. Accordingly,
he diverted himself with them, at ball or marbles,
or such like childish sports, untU his Lordship
returned, when he told him he was charmed with
their company, and that they only wanted wings to
be angels.
A part of a letter he wrote me, when I com
plained of being too much disturbed by the noise
of children, may serve still more to illustrate his
character in this particular. " Play with the
" children," (he said) " now and then, the best
" method of conciliating their father and mother ;
" and then little laughing children are, of all
" others, the sweetest and most pleasing com-
" panions. Give one of them an apple, and
" another a fig, and settle with them not to be too
" noisy when you are at your book or pen. At
" other times, invite them to be noisy with your-
" self, and to ride on your back."
Though his company was so agreeable, yet he
frequently spent his evenings alone, and often
told me, when I called to see him, that it was a

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 215
charity to come and sit with him a while, he was
so much deserted. Of his conversation, however
instructive and amusing, I was deprived in the
beginning of the ensuing year, (1784) but stiU
enjoyed the benefit of his letters.
In the same year he published by subscription
his sixth volume, entitled An Appeal to common
Sense on the Subject of Christianity, ^c. This
volume, the profits of which were, as the former
ones, to be applied to the Magdalen Charity, is
also dedicated to Lady Arabella Denny.
The Appeal is, in my opinion, superior in style
and arrangement to any thing he wrote before.
It is in general plain, sensible, void of false
ornament, from which his sermons and other
pieces are not entirely free. It contains an his
torical proof of the truth of Christianity, and shows
his faculties were in their full force at the age of
seventy-six. To this are added Some Thoughts on
Common Sense, in which there are some attempts at
wit not always successful ; for his wit, though
excellent in company, seemed to evaporate when
communicated to paper. The rest of this volume
consists of thirteen hymns, with a poetic intro
duction to them, and a Latin poem, which appear
rather calculated to enliven his own piety in private
than to excite devotion in others.
A few days after the publication of this volume
he received the following letter.

2i6 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
" Revd. Sir,
" I have read your appeal to common
"sense on the subject of Christianity. I wish all
" the world could say the same, but at present
" few can have that advantage. If you will permit
" a less expensive edition to be published, that
" may be the means of rendering the circulation
" more extensive, and of promoting the great end
"for which you laboured.
Summer-Hill, " I am your humble Servant
Sept. 21, 1784. "SARAH STRINGER."
In compliance with this proposal, which, it may
be supposed, was very agreeable to him, a cheaper
edition was published soon after at her expense,
with the foregoing letter prefixed. When it was
in the press, he sent her twelve pounds to pay
part of the expense of printing, but she refused to
take it. Of this edition he bestowed about two
hundred on each of the parishes he had the care
of either as curate or rector.
Mrs. Stringer having earnestly requested him
to permit her to have his picture taken, he at last
consented, on her promise of allowing no one to
take a copy of it, and of destroying it before she
died. This lady then employed a Mr. Holmes to
draw it on canvass, who made as exact a likeness
as I ever saw *. Formerly a Mr. John Eccles of
' She died in the latter end of March, having destroyed
the picture three months before.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 217
Fintona took his picture in profile, but he would
not sit to have it taken in ftUl.
He was accused this year of being author of
a political pamphlet called the Alarm, which he
publicly disavowed in a newspaper.
The favourable reception of the Appeal induced
him, even at so advanced an age, to continue
writing for the public, which he offered partly as
an apology for not writing to me as often as he
could wish, as appears by the following extract
of a letter I received from him in October 1785.
" My not answering your letters so soon as
" both you and I wish is not by any means owing
"to my forgetfulness of, or indifference to you.
" My esteem of you, and my friendship for you,
" are still the same. But my health is precarious,
" and my spirits, for the greater part, low. Besides
" I am even yet hammering out a seventh volume,
"and have near enough to fiU it up, of matter
" extremely miscellaneous and unconnected. Every
" thing I happen to think of goes into the farrago ;
" but it consists mostiy of short answers to infidel
"arguments, intermixed with strokes of humour,
" and even natural curiosities. The new mode of
"franking letters is yet a greater obstacle to my
" correspondence with you ; for as the franks
" must be dated, when I have got one of them,
" indisposition, or business, or visits run me beyond
" the date, and the cover is lost. I can have no
"frank for this, and therefore send the postage

2i8 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
" with it, that my poor curate need not pay for
" that, which is not worth a farthing."
In the following year his seventh volume was
published, entitled 5^«i/zi3, or an old Man's Miscellany.
The purport of it is, in some degree, explained in
the foregoing extract. Its materials are indeed
very various, and wrought into a style tolerably
natural and agreeable ; but the most valuable part
of it all is, in my opinion. Brief Observations on
some passages of the New Testament, which are
useful, intelligible, consistent with scripture and
common sense.
This volume, being also octavo, was published
by Sleater, to whom Mr. Skelton, when he gave
him the copy, agreed to pay twenty pounds to
purchase the paper, being diffident of its success,
as It was written in extreme old age. But this
bookseller informed him, when It was in the press,
that he was of opinion it would be attended with
the sale desired, and that he would not take the
money. This is an instance of generosity some
what extraordinary, as but few men of business,
in such a case, would have any scruple to take
whatever sum should be offered them.
A part of these twenty pounds, and also of the
twelve pounds which Mrs. Stringer refused to
accept of, he bestowed on the poor In Dublin, and
the rest on those In Fintona, who had a more
natural claim on him than the others. Yet a
great city affords such innumerable objects of

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 219
charity, that a man of a benevolent mind, who
lives there, is excited both by his feelings and his
duty to relieve some of them. A young clergy
man, who was Intimate with Mr. Skelton, went
once by his desire to a bank in Dublin, to know
if they woiUd exchange for him eleven light half-
guineas, which thev had sent him ; but on his
return from the bank, he found that he had given
them all away to the poor.
Yet, in the distribution of his charities, he
seldom gave any thing to those we call gentle
beggars, who tell us, they lived formerly in a
genteel way, but by crosses and losses were
brought to their present distresses. A woman
of this sort came to his lodgings in Dublin one
day asking for charit)' ; but when he began to
speak to her in his usual tone of voice, she
requested he would speak low, for being a gentie-
woman, she did not wish it should be known that
she asked charity. " O then," said he, " you may
go about your business, for I never give charity
to a gentiewoman."
He published this year (1786) a short answer
to a catechism, used at Sunday Schools, written by
one Watson, a Yorkshire vicar, which he supposed
to contain an erroneous doctrine with respect to
the state of men immediately after death. This
answer he sent to all the Bishops in England and
Ireland, that they might exert their authority
against a book of such pernicious tendency. Accord-

220 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
ingly, the Archbishop of Dublin stopt the use of
it in his diocess.
The summer and autumn of this year was
remarkable, it is well known, for the ravages of
the Right-boys, who, without any pretence of
justice, robbed the established clergy in the South
of most of their property. These insurgents,
though barbarians themselves, contributed to serve
the cause of literature, as they gave rise to many
most excellent pamphlets, which otherwise would
never have been produced. The rights of the
clergy thus invaded became a general subject of
conversation, not only with themselves, but also
with the laity. Every news-paper gave some new
account of the horrid doings of these rioters, who
feared neither God nor man. The news-papers
also abounded with many wild proposals for a
commutation of tithe, communicated to the public
fresh from the heads of essayists or paragraph-
writers, residing in aerial habitations. Amidst
this general fermentation, I wrote to Mr. Skelton
to get his opinion on these matters, and received
the following letter, which, for evident reasons,
I give entire. Dublin, Br'ide Street, No. 45, Nov. 4, 1786.
Dear Burdy,
"No more than one letter of yours to
" me, beside this of the present month, occurs
" to my declining memory, and in that you kindly
" excuse my answering every letter. The Infir-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 221
" mities of a man approaching near to his eightieth
"year, makes such an indulgence indeed very
" requisite ; especially, as since we saw each other,
" a sixth and then a seventh volume of my works
" have been published ; and I am now republish-
" ing the sermons of Robert Walker, a Scottish
" presbyterian minister, which have deservedly had
" five previous editions in Great Britain. To this
" sixth edition, I prefix a long letter of my own to
"encourage both the Dublin bookseller, and the
" Irish reader. The sermons of this worthy
"author, deceased two or three years ago, are
" most excellent in themselves, and greatly wanted
" in these times.
" Any advice you may have received from me,
" it was but a smaU part of my duty to impart
"to one so much younger than myself, and but
" a poor proof of my friendship for you. You do
"better in remembering it, than I should do In
" thinking of it.
" The inquiries you make in this letter show to
"me, that you purpose addressing the public by
" somewhat, and on a subject not a little ticklish.
" Take care, whUe you think you are treading only
" on ashes, that there is not a great deal of fire
" under your feet.
" I cannot more exactly than you do repeat the
" resolution of the House of Commons concerning
" the rights and demands of the clergy ; nor the
" year of its date, but I know it was made when

222 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
" Boyle was speaker, I believe, about forty years
"ago. The demands of the clergy for tithe
" agistment was so founded on common law, that
" they carried all the causes In the court of
" Exchequer, which they commenced before that
" vote, but never durst since commence another.
" Who spoke for, or who against that vote, in the
" house, I do not remember, and hardly guess at
" the time.
" The Southern Insurgents are sinking the rights
" of our clergy, wherever they prevail, to a third
"of what had been formerly received, which could
" not have been much more than half of what was
" due. The Immediate cause of this is obvious to
" every body. The primary cause Is equally
" Intelligible to me. We clergy (I include myself)
"are objects of displeasure In the eyes of God.
" Our luxury, pride, and neglect of duty must be
" punished. We must be put In mind, that there
" is a God. Poverty and oppression must bring
" us to ourselves, or extermination must follow.
" When church livings shall no longer be worth
" struggling for, the shameful market made of
" them wiU cease, and here 1 cease with an
" assurance that 1 am stUl your real friend
"PHIL. SKELTON."
This was the last letter he ever sent me. In
January I saw him again In Dublin, where I found
him in Bride-street, living with the same family,

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 223
who had removed thither. He appeared visibly
on the decline, but a severe cold, from which he
was recovering, probably made him look worse ;
this he imagined would be the cause of his death,
for he told me he would die in eight days. But
in a day or two after, having shook off these
gloomy notions, he regained his usual gaiety.
Yet he was still saying he could not live long, as
he would be eighty years of age. If he lived to the
end of the next month. He complained then as
before of the lonely manner he spent his time,
observing that every one seemed to be tired of
him. No one indeed could be tired of his company,
who had a taste for rational, agreeable, and im
proving conversation, for even then his social
qualities were scarce any wise Impaired. But it is
the fate of man to experience neglect in the decline
of life, when it is suspected he can be no longer
useful. At that time I attended his family prayer one
or two evenings, when I found he had made an
additional prayer about the Right-boys, in which
he prayed that God would turn these Infatuated
insurgents, who had risen up against his church,
from their wicked ways. Indeed they stood in
need of all good christians' prayers. He really
beUeved that the presbyterians of the North, and
the catholics of the South, had formed a combina
tion against the established church to destroy It,
which he supposed would soon be effected.

224 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
These apprehensions, however, for the safety of
the church, to which he was often liable, were
not then the mere effects of imagination, as the
gloomy complexion of ecclesiastic affairs seemed
to threaten some destructive revolution. The
pamphlets published afterwards by the abettors of
the opposite parties clearly displayed their cordial
dislike to our church establishment.
His opinions upon every subject he communi
cated then with as much facility as when I saw
him before; but the duties of my profession
hurried me away from his pleasing and instructive
company. In February, 1787, I parted for the
last time from that dear and worthy man, of whose
friendship I shall always retain a grateful re
membrance. When I was just going away, he
said to me, with tears in his eyes, " I know I shall
never see you again, but God be with you, trust
in Christ, and he will preserve you ; when you
meet with afflictions and disappointments in this
world, as you surely wUl, ask for his gracious aid,
and he will give it to you, he will comfort you in
your sorrow. Preach the gospel to your people
without any false refinements, and act as it becomes
a minister of the gospel, and God will reward you."
At these words I left him with a sorrowful heart,
still reflecting as I passed along on this solemn
expression of his, " I know I shall never see you
again." He prophesied at length too truly of himself

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 225
On Good Friday the 6th of April he was attacked
with a suppression of urine, a complaint of which
he had often felt symptoms before, on account of
his taking so little exercise. The professional
skUl of his physician Dr. Fleury, and of Surgeon
Bowes was unable to remove the disorder, which
wasted him gradually. Yet he rose every day,
and felt littie or no pain, but just dozed away.
While he attempted to read at his table, he usually
feU asleep over his book and continued thus for
some time. The disorder, which was owing, as
the physician told me, to a total relaxation of the
parts, was for a whUe in some degree abated by
the use of a catheter, but even this at length
proved inefficacious ; he was then convinced it
would be the j;ause of his death, though at first
he did not imagine it would be so fatal. About
this time a young man from Fintona called to see
him, and found him dozing with his head on his
table. Having inquired of him most affectionately
concerning his parishioners, he lamented with
tears in his eyes the irregularity of their conduct,
but especially their unhappy propensity to drunken
ness, of which aU his instructions could not cure
them. The disorder, though it daily consumed
his constitution, had no effect on his understanding,
so that he saw death approaching with a calm and
steady mind. The Revd. Doctor Hastings, Arch
deacon of Dublin, attended him carefully during
his Ulness ; which, having confined him to his bed

226 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
only two days, put an end to his life on Friday the
4th of May, 1787. When he breathed his last
you would have imagined he was just faUing asleep,
he died so quiet and resigned. The evening
before he repeated intelligibly the Lord's Prayer,
and never spoke after.
He had always a horror of coming to life in his
coffin, and therefore, when he was even in good
health, often requested his physician to cut his
throat before he should be buried. It being
accordingly thought necessary not to bury him,
until some marks of corruption should appear on
his body, he was kept untU the Tuesday following,
when he was buried privately at six o'clock In the
morning, near the west door of St. Peter's church
yard, the place he had appointed for himself. His
funeral was attended by six or seven Dublin
curates, and by Dr. Hales of Trinity College.
The short funeral service was read over his grave
by Mr. Queal one of the curates of the parish.
He left behind him, after all his just debts
were paid, near seven hundred pounds, of which
at least five hundred and forty was due by his
parish, including one hundred and twenty charge
able on his successor, for building part of a glebe
house which lay in an unfinished state for some
years previous to his death. So that he had hardly
an hundred and fifty pounds clear in his own
hands. The whole he disposed of by will * in the
* He begins his will thus, "In the name of the glorious
and eternal Trinity, See."

THEtLIFE OF SKELTON. 227
foUowing manner. To his nephew Dr. Skelton,
he left an hundred and fifty pounds, to his servant
John Swap, forty, and the rest to Miss Leslie,
daughter of Henry Leslie, Esqr. and granddaughter
of the late Revd. WUliam Leslie, his old friend.
He appointed the Rev. Dr. Hastings, his sole
executor. As an apology fbr his making his wiU
in this manner he mentions in it, that he was in
debted to the Revd. Williiun Leslie, under God,
for his preferments in the Church, and to his family
fbr many kindnesses during a series of years. To
his own relations, he declares, he owed nothing, as
he had gi"ven them at different times above fburteen
hundred pounds.
His manuscripts and his works he left to
Dr. Hastings, whom he styles his exceUent friend,
and to his servant his dothes, his wiitch worth
about thirty shillings, and all his other utensils,
except fbur articles to Mr. Drury, with whom he
lodged. His servjftit, who came to live with him
in 1783, received firom him in presents during the
last year of his life, beside the sum left him in his
will, twenty three pounds, fbr he had the ;u"t of
insinuating himself into his good graces. He was
a Scotchman, and an old soldier, but sober, wise,
and remarkable fbr his discretion, a \^ry usefid
talent He also wrote a fair hand and copied fbr
him the greatest part of his two last volumes.
** Sweet Aberdeen," his master used to xty, " that
jMPoduced John and Dr. Reid."
p i

228 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
PHILIP SKELTON, it has been shown, was
of a tall stature and majestic appearance; his
countenance was agreeable and placid, displaying
evident marks of a mind replete with humanity.
His strong athletic frame enabled him in his youth
to excel in the manly exercises, of his skill in
which and of his bravery sufficient specimens have
been produced. But it was the chief business of
his life, he considered, to perform the sacred duties
of the ministry with conscientious care, wherein
he was hardly exceeded by any clergyman of any
age. Sincere, strenuous, vehement in his admoni
tions, he was truly sensible of the importance of
the glorious end he had in view, the eternal
happiness of his fellow-creatures. He told them
of a heaven and a hell where the virtuous shall be
rewarded and the wicked punished, exciting them
by the most powerful arguments to seek the felicity
of the one, and avoid the misery of the other.
He declared open war against'vice and impiety in
every station, careless of the event, and only
influenced by conscience. To instruct the igno
rant, rouse the indolent, rebuke the obstinate,
rectify the misguided, and tum the disobedient to the
wisdom of the just, was the great object of his
labours. His abilities were equal to his zeal. The
natural powers bestowed on him by Providence
he improved by an attentive application to almost
every species of literature, but chiefly by a careful

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 229
perusal of the holy scriptures. His Sermons,
fraught with good sense, and animated with the
sacred truths of the gospel, were composed in
a strong, nervous, oratorial style, that suited the
forcible manner of his delivery. His action in
the pulpit, which flowed from the sincerity of his
heart, was either violent or temperate according
to the nature of his subject. An argument he
used in favour of this mode of preaching may not
improperly be introduced. " Men," he said, " who
are born deaf and dumb have the thoughts of
others communicated to them by external signs,
those who are born blind have them communicated
by words, and therefore those who have them
communicated both by words and signs must
receive them more forcibly."
His descriptive faculties, and his command over
the passions, were very powerful. A gentleman
told me, he heard him describing in Werburgh's
church the torments of hell in a manner so terri
fying as made him shiver in his place. He
preached once two Sundays successively in Lisburn
church. The first Sunday (I was assured by
a person present) he made his audience all laugh,
the second he made them all cry. While he was
delivering his awful lectures in his church, he has
been often so much affected by the subject, that
the tears trickled down his cheeks, which produced
a simUar effect on his hearers.
The purity of his life gave an additional

230 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
authority to his preaching. He prescribed no
duty, enjoyned no mortification, of which he did
not first set the example in his own private
conduct. His charities, which, if not weU authen
ticated, would be Incredible, seem to lead us back
to the pure and primitive age of the gospel when
christians had all their worldly goods in common.
Even in plentiful times he gave, it appears, the
half of his Income to feed the poor ; but in a year
of scarcity he did not allow himself the usual
necessaries of life. His forgiving his indigent
tenants their rent at such a season of calamity, his
denying himself the use of snuff, his living on
scanty fare for the sake of his poor, and above all,
his selling his books to procure them subsistence,
eminently display his unbounded and uncommon
charity. In their sickness he supplied them with
medicines and medical aid, and in their necessities
with food. He had a horror to think of any one
dying of hunger, and once gave this advice to his
poor during a dearth, we may suppose before he
got a living. " If you have not food, beg it ; Ifyou
can't get for begging, steal, if you can't get by
stealing, rob, and don't starve*." The fatherless,
the widow, and those who were in real want, found
him a benevolent assistant ; yet he examined so
carefully into the condition of those he relieved,
* This advice is countenanced by the authority of Solo
mon, Prov. 6. 30. Men do not despise a thief if he steal
to satisfy his soul when he is hungry.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 231
that he was seldom imposed upon by improper
objects of charity. It may be said, that having no
wife and children to support, he had nothing else
to do with his money but give it away to the
poor ; but on examining the conduct of mankind
we wiU find, that those who have no children are
at least as avaricious and uncharitable as those that
have. The feelings of the latter are indeed more
delicate than those of the former, as their tender
ness for their own offspring contributes to excite
in them a sympathy for the distresses of others.
To his relations he was sufficientiy munificent,
though his charity obliged him to give them only
a part; had he not indeed used extraordinary
frugality, he could not have been so liberal to
these and to the poor.
He was also eminent for the virtues of humUity,
sincerity, and gratitude. A clergyman, who
professes himself the follower of a divine Master
so distinguished for humUity, should be decorated,
he thought, above aU others, with that amiable
virtue. He therefore severely censured that pride
and insolence so conspicuous in the conduct of
some churchmen, who show themselves so very
unlike the meek Author of Christianity. The
term gentieman, which is usually affixed to that
of clergyman, he considered as highly improper.
It being a title of worldly origin unsuitable to the
spiritual nature of his office. Our Saviour, he
remarked, was no gentieman, the Aposties were

232 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
no gentiemen ; but, he said, our fine genteel clergy
now a days do not wish to resemble our Saviour
or his Aposties in any particular. Very different
was the conduct of this humble pastor, who looked
on his poorer brethren as his friends and feUow-
creatures, as chUdren of the same universal
Parent, and candidates for the same blessed im
mortality. His sincerity was at least equal to his humUity.
In his private dealings he would take no advan
tage of his neighbour, nor even rigorously require
his due, having a soul superior to every thing
mean. He was entirely divested of hypocrisy
and dissimulation ; he strictly kept his word, and
spoke the truth publicly and privately, without
apprehension, dreading only the reproaches of his
own conscience, and the resentment of his Maker.
On no occasion would he tell a lie himself, or even
allow another to do it for him. When' it was
Inconvenient for him to receive visitors, he would
not order his servant, according to the fashionable
mode, to say he was not at home, but bade him
tell any one who called, that he was in his room
but could not see company. I remember he once
excluded almost every one from him for a fortnight,
expecting then a visit from a certain dignified
person whom he did not wish to see.
It may naturally be supposed he was not well
skilled In the science of flattery, often more useful
than real science for a man's promotion In the

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 233
world ; for he could not say one thing, and think
another, applaud that with his lips of which his
heart disapproved. He was not fit, like a supple
dependant, to sooth the vanity, or soften the crimes
of the great; nor could he, by a tacit consent, or
smUIng rebuke, give countenance to vice. He
openly declared his abhorrence of every mean and
imgenerous deed, of every base compliance of
principle for the sake of private advantage. As he
would not admit of duplicity in himself, he coiUd
not bear it in others. He was remarkable indeed
for a total disregard to his temporal interest, when
it interfered with his dut^- ; a virtue, it is said, not
iiki'iiys prevalent among churchmen.
Yet he was sufficientiy respectful to his superiors,
ready to pav them every compliment they deserved,
and grateful for the favours they conferred on
him. His determination not to write against
Dr. Clayton Bishop of Clogher, who gave him the
first living, though he disliked his religious
opinions, and his lamenting his unhappy fate
already mentioned, proceeded from the same
laudable principle. He entertained, as might be
expected, a grateful esteem and sincere affection
for his worthy patron Dr. Garnet, the late Bishop
of Clogher, who was orthodox in his belief, and
gentie and benevolent in his mind. His donations
to the famUy of the Leslies were owing to the
friendship he experienced from old Mr. Leslie of
Ahavea.

234 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
In his own friendships he was faithful and
strenuous, always exerting the littie interest he
had In favour of young men of merit, or at least
of those whom he supposed to have had merit.
For some of these he has been able to obtain
curacies, and when he could not succeed, endeav
oured to make them submit patiently to the
disappointment. Upon their engaging in a mini
sterial employment he usually gave them an
advice how to conduct themselves. To a young
man who got a curacy in Dublin some years ago
I heard him give this salutary advice. " Your
parishioners will Invite you to their public enter
tainments, and will press you to drink intemperately,
but don't do It for them, for if you do, they will
afterwards expose you." When a curate complained
to him of not being rewarded in the church accord
ing to his merit, he strove to console him by this
quotation from the Psalmist. Promotion cometh
neither from the east, nor from the west, nor from the
south ; but God is the judge ; he putteth down one, and
setteth up another. He was indeed warm and
affectionate to his friends, and mild and forgiving
to his enemies, if it were possible for such a man
to have had an enemy.
His mode of communicating his advice was
extremely agreeable to those who received it ; for
he was not one of those haughty advisers, who
only wish, by assuming Imperious dignity, to
show their own importance; his sole object being

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 235
the good of the person to whom he gave the
advice. His manner, conversation, and social
qualities were indeed highly pleasing, and his wit
in company so excellent as to extort a smile from
the gravest countenance ; which caused his presence
to be StUl eagerly desired. While he lived in the
country he often spent whole weeks together at
the houses of his friends, and at his own lodgings,
particularly in Fintona, usually had company every
day he was at home, being also remarkable for his
hospitality. I was told at Pettigo, that the horses
of some gentiemen who had paid him a visit there,
when they had gone twelve mUes off, immediately
on getting loose came gallopping back to his
lodgings; which shews they were well used
there. It appears he was not one of those recluse sullen
scholars that lock themselves up from society ; his
station requiring him, as he thought, to mix with
the world. Having informed him once by letter
that I spent my time entirely at my studies, he
soon returned the following answer. "Do not
" sequester yourself wholly from mankind. From
" their vices, follies and dissipations you cannot
"keep at too great a distance; but by nature
" you must be social ; and your gown obliges
" you by dutv to be stiU more so, for the spirit of
" Christianity is a social spirit ; and then in an age
"so infidel, so wicked, the Lord expects some-
" what, let me say, perhaps a great deal from***** ;

236 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
"but without speaking, reasoning, and now and
" then even reproving, there is nothing to be got
" out of him."
Yet his Inclination for company never turned
his thoughts aside from his devotions ; his private
and family prayers being constant and regular.
At Fintona it was a custom with him to entertain
his visitors for a short time by explaining a certain
portion of scripture in a clear simple manner, and
making agreeable and improving remarks on It.
When he had finished, he conversed on different
subjects with his usual pleasantness ; for his piety
had nothing in It of gloominess or severity, and
was free both from superstition and enthusiasm.
He therefore could not relish the methodistic rants.
Of a certain clergyman who turned methodist and
quitted the church he observed, that no one stood
more In need of inspiration, for naturally he was
a great blockhead.
Yet even a methodist was not more sensible
than he of the prevalence of wickedness in the
world. I heard him once say In a large company,
" The Devil has more authority in this world than
some people are apt to think ; he is called In
scripture the God of this world, the prince of this
world, the prince of the power of the air, and
accordingly disposes of many places of profit in it,
bestowing high offices on persons of his own
choosing." Though he disliked faction, he was
not blind to the corruptions of a court, and spoke

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 237
with a just abhorrence of those men who sell their
country for gold.
The most of what little religion remained in the
world was possessed, he thought, by the fair sex.
" The Turks," he said, " imagine women have no
souls, but by their conduct we should suppose it
more likely they have them than the men, for they
take more care of them." He was remarkably
fond of the company of the ladies, though he
never had carnal knowledge of a woman, which is
rather a singularity in his character. It probably
required extreme abstinence, and severe struggles
in him to gain such an entire mastery over his
passions. Having sold his library before he came to live
constantiy in Dublin, he was obliged then to
borrow books, of which he got a great variety,
and freely gave his opinion of those he read.
After reading Tristram Shandy he could not, he
said, for two or three days attend seriously
to his devotion it filled him with ludicrous ideas.
Of a certain dignified author he remarked, that,
though a man of learning, he always in his writings
put the wrong end of the argument foremost,
obserV'ing that an argument was like a dart, for if
you put the wrong end foremost. It will not hit
the object aimed at, but run into your own hand.
There was no living author he had so high an
opinion of as Dr. Johnson, whom he called the
greatest and best man of the age, and had his

238 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
picture hung over the fire-side in the room in
which he usuaUy sat. "I have Johnson always
before me (he often said) whom I look on as my
master, and strive to imitate ; when he dies, he'll
not leave a man in these kingdoms of deep
thinking behind him." Johnson's noted ortho
doxy conduced somewhat to increase his good
opinion of him. His own violence In this instance
was reckoned by some among his defects ; though
he had a real esteem for any one who acted con
scientiously, which he clearly exhibited by offering
a part of his income to support Mr. Robertson,
a perfect stranger to him, who resigned his living
as he could not believe in the Trinity. He railed
severely indeed against those clergymen who con
tinue to enjoy the emoluments of an ecclesiastic
benefice, and yet disbelieve the doctrines of the
church that maintains them.
When I told him once that I had been In com
pany the night before with a man who said he did not
believe In hell, " Well," he replied, " tell him the
next time he says so, that he'll not believe in it till he
feels it ; seeing is believing, but feeling has no fellow."
In a candid display of his character and manners
it is necessary to observe, that he was rathei* liable
to be deceived by the art of flatterers. He was
apt to imagine that those who praised and com
plimented him possessed more virtues than they
could justiy claim. This weakness, which was
derived from the sincerity of his own mind, caused

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 239
him often to have a good opinion of those, whom
he found afterwards to be unworthy of his regard.
A certain person of polite address was once particu
larly attentive to him in company, which pleased
him so much, that he used to say he was the
sweetest and most agreeable young gentleman he
ever saw ; but afterwards, when he discovered him
to be a deceiver, he said of him, " he is but the
sheU of a man."
If you once lost his friendship, you could not
easily regain it, for he usuaUy suspected you ever
after. In his old age, however, he sometimes
entertained unreasonable suspicions of mankind.
When I observed to him, a short time before his
death, that he had got fine cotton curtains to his
bed, he replied, " the people who bought these
expected I should soon die, and then they knew
they would get them to themselves."
Having been appointed, on account ofhis services
to the Magdalen Charity, one of its governors, he
attended a public meeting of these, about 1785,
where he found some ladies of great consequence,
who treated his opinion, he declared, on every
occasion, with contempt ; which made him resolve
to go near them no more, to which resolution he
strictly adhered. The benefits conferred by him
on this useful institution entitled him, he thought,
to more respect. Yet his suspicions in this instance
were founded, I should think, rather on imagination
than reality.

240 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
It is remarkable, that in his old age he almost
entirely got the better of the hypochondriac com
plaints, to which he was so subject before. In
the prime and vigour of life he often imagined he
was just going to die, when he had no bodily ail
ment ; yet when he was seized with his last illness,
he did not expect it would be the cause of his
death. His method of getting rid of a cold was
somewhat curious ; he lay in bed then, and eat
little or nothing, and thus drove it away by hunger.
This bears some resemblance to that mentioned
by Lucian of a poor man's frightening away a fever
by gulping down cold water.
He was also not troubled in his old age with
doubts about his salvation, and observed to a friend
who mentioned this, that he was now too old to
be disturbed by such gloomy apprehensions.
In the course of the narrative, a short account
and separate character has been given of each of
his works, which consist now of seven large octavo
volumes. It only remains to make some general
observations on the whole. They discover him to
have possessed strong natural powers, which were
enriched with a complete knowledge both of sacred
and profane literature. Had his taste been equal
to his learning and imagination, or had he em
ployed more care in polishing his compositions,
they would certainly have been more agreeable,
and of consequence more durable. But his
arrangement is somewhat confused, and his style,

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 241
though strong and masculine, is often harsh and
obscure. It is however observable, that the style
of his two last volum'es is far superior to that of
the other five. He seems at length to have been
sensible of his defects in this particular, and has
been tolerably happy in avoiding them. The style
of the last is so different In point of perspicuity
from that of the first volume, that if there did not
appear a simUarity in the mode of thinking, you
could scarce suppose them to be both the produc
tions of the same author. The style of his private
letters, which are remarkably instructive, is also
plain and unaffected ; here he seems to throw aside
his stilts, and to walk upon his feet with an easy
equable carriage.
If his attempts at wit and irony be sometimes
unsuccessful, yet he is scarce ever deficient in
good sense, which he draws abundantly from his
own natural fund, for he Is no servUe copier even
ofthe thoughts of others. He is therefore entitled
at least to the character of an original writer. His
writings are also animated with an ardent zeal for
the happiness of his fellow-creatures. The subject
on which he employed his pen is of a nature the
most noble and exceUent, either to prove the truth
of divine revelation, or to point out to man the
conduct that wiU render him acceptable to the
great Author of his being. From the specimen
of his abUity in explaining the scriptures exhibited
in his Senilia, we have reason to lament, that he

242 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
did not write a commentary on that sacred volume.
If he had, we may suppose he would not have
been so tedious and unentertaining as the generality
of our commentators, whose dulness and verbosity
give us a distaste for a critical study of the holy
scriptures. Though he was so eminent for his pulpit elo
quence, his productions In defence of revelation,
and the exemplary sanctity of his private life, yet
he remained. It has been shown, at least twenty
years a curate. At length he obtained, by power
ful Interposition, a small living from Bishop
Clayton in a wild part of the country ; where
probably he would have continued all his days,
had not Providence placed Dr. Garnet in the see
of Clogher, who was remarkable for promoting
men distinguished for literary qualifications. In
the Irish church, it is well known, that fortune
or powerful relations are the chief requisites for
preferment, and that learning and abilities are too
often neglected and disregarded. Had Skelton
been born In England, even with the disadvan
tage of his humble birth, it is allowed, he would
have risen to a bishoprick. But his being a
native of Ireland, the condition of his parents,
and the honest freedom of his language, contri
buted to prevent his advancement to ecclesiastical
honours. It is to be lamented, that the merits of
a poor Irish clergyman can hardly be so famed
as to reach the royal ear, that lends so favour-

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 243
able an attention to literature in the English
church. The foUowing panegyric on Mr. Skelton, taken
from the Philosophical Survey of Ireland, may naturally
be subjoined.
" Mr. , Orr, published a volume of Sermons,
" which procured him the friendship of Hoadly,
" Bishop of Winchester ; they discover a free and
" original cast of thought, and are composed in a
" manly nervous style. The present Bishop of
" Clogher, has the honour of promoting him to an
" archdeaconry, when he governed the see of Ferns.
" And to the same excellent Prelate Mr. Skelton
" owes his preferment.
"This gentleman though ungraduated, but as
" a Batchelor, by any of the universities, is the
"living glory of the Irish church. He has pub-
" lished five volumes, mostly In defence of reve-
" lation, which, though ably written, shed but a
" secondary lustre on the character of this excellent
" person, to whom I have had the happiness of
"being introduced. His learning is almost uni-
" versal, and his language uncommonly fluent and
" vigorous ; nature formed him a poet, but a bishop
" prematurely ordained him a divine ; and no
" sooner did he assume this function, than his
" feeling heart was penetrated by the nicest sense
"of duty. He resigned himself wholly to the
" service of his master. Such a servant could not
" long escape notice ; he became eminent ; he was
Q 2

244 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
" followed in London as a preacher. He dedicated
" two volumes of sermons to the citizens of that
" metropolis, at a time when he languished upon
" a curacy of forty pounds a year * ; but then he
" was as rich as he is now, for he knows no use
" of money, but to relieve distress. In one of those
" seasons of calamity, which neglect of tiUage in
" this country renders so frequent, he sold his
" books, his only worldly goods wherein he took
" delight, to buy bread for the poor. He Is now
" advancing towards seventy, yet he preserves an
" uncommon share of vivacity. If he sometimes
" descends into the ludicrous, his flashes of wit
" keep the table in a roar. His powers of description
" are beyond what I could have conceived ; he' has
" a stock of imagination sufficient to set up ten
"modern tragic poets. Had he been educated and
" lived In England, a stage little enough for his
" great abUities, he would have long since obtained
" the first niche in the Temple of fame ; now he is
" known only in Ireland, and by a few inquisitive
" men elsewhere."
A marble tomb-stone has been placed over him
at the expense of Miss Leslie, whom he appointed
his residuary legatee, with the following inscription,
the composition. It is said, of the Revd. Robert
Burrowes, Junior ; Fellow of Trinity College,
Dublin. "' This is a mistake ; for he had the living of Pettigo at
that time.

THE LIFE OF SKELTON. 245
"Beneath this stone are deposited the remains of
The Reverend Philip Skelton,
Prebendary of Donacavy in the Cathedral of Clogher,
¦Who departed this life on the 4th day of May, 1787,
In the 59th year of his Ministry, and 8 ist of his age.
Liberally endowed by Providence with intellectual
Perfections,
He did not suffer them to lie waste through Inactivity,
Nor did he pervert them by misdirection.
His understanding he habituated to attentive
Reflection,
Invigorating it by exercise and enriching it with
Information.
And pursuing the noblest ends by means the best
Adapted,
He laboured industriously to promote the happiness
Of Mankind,
By advancing the influence ofthe Christian Religion.
His arguments evinced the reasonableness of its
Doctrines ;
While his example showed at once
The practicability and the amiableness of its precepts ;
For
As his opinions were orthodox his manners were
Primitive.
His conversation was candid and unreserved;
For he harboured no thought which required
Concealment.
His preaching was forcible and dignified.
Impressing on his hearers the rightful authority of
'Virtue,
And with indignant elocution and nervous diction,
Holding out her Adversaries
To contempt and detestation.
Pious without superstition and zealous without
Bigotry ;

246 THE LIFE OF SKELTON.
His life was practical devotion,
And his controversies the earnest efforts of
Philanthropy,
Leading infidels to truth and sinners to salvation.
"With a heart which felt for the distresses of the
Indigent,
He had a hand still open to relieve them.
Denying himself even moderate gratifications
That he might more liberally provide for the
Necessities of others.
Without ambition he acquired celebrity,
And without ostentation he long continued to enjoy
It.
A friend to the poor, an ornament to the church.
Admired for his talents and revered for his virtues.
He was at length called to the rewards of a
Patriarchal life.
In the immediate presence of that God,
Whose name he had worshipped with such piety,
And whose word he taught with success."

INDEX.

Acheson, a bully, 124.
Adamnan, Life of Columba, xii.
Adderley, Mr., 85, 86.
Age ofthe world, 38.
Agnew, James, monody on, xii.
— Mr., 57.
Ahavea, 47.
Ailech, vi.
Alarm, The,not by Skelton, 217.
Alius prositor, vi.
America, date of discovery, 39.
Annals ofthe Four Masters, vii.
Antiquities ofDoiun, Connor, and
Dromore, xii.
Antrim, 169.
Arbuthnot, a curate, 72.
— Hannah, 57, 58.
Archdeacon and Skelton on
Hutcheson, 108.
Ardglass, a poem, xx.
Arians, 67, 125.
Armagh, Book of, vi ; Historical
Memoirs of, viii ; psalm-sing
ing, 130.
Armour, Mr., of Castle Coole,
16.
Armstrong, miller of Tonagh,
160.
Athanasian Creed, 172.
Attica, air of, 27.
Attorney-General, 70.
Aughinleck, a curate, 172, 184,
204.
Aughrim, battle of, xxiii.
B.'s, Mr., phases of faith, 196 ;
controversies, 200.
Bagnall, Marshall, xxii.
Bailie, Dean, 199.
Baldwin, Provost, 22.
Ballyshannon, 131.

Ban, River, vi.
Barrymore, Lady, her liberality,
135.
Battersby, Francis, 48.
Bearnas mor, vi.
Benburb, battle of, xxii.
Benyevenagh, xi.
Bibles, 159.
Big Glen, 149.
Biography, its nature, 9.
Bishop, Catholic, of Raphoe,
xxv.
Bishop a puppet in God's
hands, 153.
Bishop's advice, 39; examin
ation, 38 ; wife, 107.
Blair's sermons, 195.
Blood of cows eaten, 1 32.
Bolingbroke, 99.
Books, opinion of, in Pettigo,
112.
Boulter, Primate, xxiv.
Bowes, surgeon, 225.
Boyne, battle of, xxiii.
Brannan, Peter, brogue maker,
xii.
Bride street, 222.
Bride's church, 211.
Bristol, Earl of, 156.
Brook of Colebrook, 37.
Brooke, Miss, 186.
Browne, a methodist, 171.
Bruce, Miss, advised to marry
a soldier, 199.
Buchanan, 154, 169.
Bullies, at Pettigo, 124.
Burdy, Peter, father ot Samuel,
xiii.
Burdy, Samuel, his descent,
xii ; academic career, xiii ;
curacy of Ardglass, xiii ; let-

248

INDEX.

ters to Bishop Percy, xiii,
xvii ; first visit to Skelton,
188; friendship with Skelton,
6 ; works of, xx ; leases
granted by, xii ; death and
burial at Kilcllef, xix.
Burleigh, Lord, as to gentle
man, 16.
Burns, John, 60.
Caldwell, Sir James, xxvii, 114,
118.
Caledon, library at, xvii.
Callan, River, viii.
Campbell, Dr. Thomas, 38,
192, 202.
Carleton, Sir Guy, 51.
Carleton, widow, third wife of
Thomas Skelton 51.
Carrickfergus, 1 1.
Carshore, of Pettigo 129, 159,
160; Thomas, 129; William,
129.
Cashel, vi.
Castle Caldwell, xxv.
Caterpillars, 84.
Catholics, state of, xxiii.
Cave, Lives of the Fathers, xvii.
Ceallachan, King of Caisil, vi.
Cenncoradh, vi.
Charlemont, Earl of, 84, 85 ;
Lady, 85.
Chronological History of John
Burns, 60.
Clark, Mr., 98 ; Rev. Mr., 13;
Rev. Dr. Henry, 164.
Clayton, Dr., Protestant bishop
of Clogher, an Arian, 92, 109 ;
Hssay on Spirit, 117; his
disbelief in the Holy Trinity,
137.
Clogher, 72, 92, 95, 109;
Bishop of, 84, 106, 115, 140,
152, 167, 202 ; Dean of, 183,
192 ; Diocese of, 48.
Cloughey in Kilcliefe, xii.
Cloyne, Bishop of, 756, 183,
192, 198.

Coghill, the civilian, 27.
Colgan, Trias Thaumaturga,
xxvi.
Collin mountain, 149.
Colton's Visitation, xii.
Columba, vi.
Columcille, vii.
Conchobar, vi.
Connaught, 122.
Connebear, Dr., 98.
Contention of the Bards, vii.
Conway, Lord, 13.
CoothiU, Lake, 82.
Cranston, Archdeacon, 95.
Craven, a sinner, 61.
Corbally, xv.
Cormacan mac Maelbrighde,
vi.
Cudgell playing, 20.
Dares, 20.
Dawson, a banker, 85.
Deacons, horseplay of, 37.
Dearth, (i 757), at Pettigo, 131,
(1773), 169, (1783), 203.
Deity, the, various opinions of
the Quality on, xxvii.
Delany, Dr., 20, 25, 26, 54, 58,
106, 109.
Delusion, cure of, 62.
Demosthenes, 12.
Denny, Lady Arabella, 164,
215.
Derg, Lough, 140.
Derriaghy, 11, 15, 34, 35, 54,
103, 149.
Derriana, viii.
Derry, 169.
Develin, Ann, 156.
Devenish, 151, 173.
Devils, roasted, 63.
Dinner, payment for, 21.
Donacavey, 154.
Donybrook fair, 20.
Down, battle of, vi ; county of,
xxii ; dean of, 186.
Downpatrick, xiii, xv.
Drink, death from, 121.

INDEX.

249

Drogheda, 13, 133, 176, 203.
Dromore, 188.
Druims (Irish, druim, a ridge),
ix.
DrummuUy, 40.
Drunkenness, 121.
Drury, Mr., 227 ; Rev. Richard
of Peter's Row, 2*09.
Dublin, Archbishop of, 190;
Evening Post, 2 00.
Dubourdieu, xiii.
Dundalk, 37, 48, 151.
East, Archdeacon, 96.
Eccles, Squire, 169; in green
and gold, 181.
Eccles, Charles Stewart, sus
pected methodist, 1 70 ;
drowned, 171.
Eccles, Mr. John, his portrait
of Skelton, 216.
Echo at Lisburn, 18.
Ecklin, Miss, 180, 184.
Edinburgh University, 185.
Elwin, 'Whitwell, xii.
Elwood, Dr., 28.
English language, vii.
EngHsh, Rev. Dr., 176.
Ennis, Mr. Attorney, 98.
Ennis, Mrs., her piety, 50.
Enniskillen, 16, 109, 146, 148,
175, 186.
Enthusiast, his white hat, 64.
Ern, Lough, 144.
Essay on Spirit, 138.
Examination in Latin, 38.
Famine, viii.
Fede aud Wilcocks, bankers,
85.
Ferdomnach, vi.
Fermanagh, church-of-England-
men numerous in, 143.
Ferns, Bishop of, 153.
Fever, purple, 179.
Fifty-pound stone, 64.
Fintona, xxvi, 152, 153, 157,
158, 159, 164, 167, 168, 169,

171, 173, 176, 179, 185, 207,
225.
Fleury, Dr. Skelton's physician,
198, 225.
Flowers at Carshore's, 130.
Forsayth, Dr., of Trinity Col
lege, 193.
Galbraith, Mr., of Omagh, 147.
Gardner, James, of Dromore,
xii.
Garnet, Dr., Protestant bishop
of Clogher, 139.
Garron (recte gearrain, a nag),
xi.
George I., 23.
George II., dragged feet, 104.
Gibbon, 99.
Good, Jonas, boxer, in; shock
ingly beaten, 112; regulated
Pettigo market, 133; obtain
ed farm at Pettigo, 141.
Gormley, Dr., 155 ; his daugh
ters, 186.
Graham, John, viii ; verses by,
ix.
Graham, a wrestler, 125.
Grammar, written with one
pen, 145.
Granger, Mrs., 36.
Hales, Dr., of Trinity College,
19, 226.
Half-guineas, light, 219.
Hamill family, 11.
Hamilton, Hon. and Rev.
Francis, 48, 72.
Hamilton, John, 159.
Hanna, Skelton's almoner, 131.
Hastings, Rev. Dr., 58, 198,
227 ; Archdeacon, 225.
Hawkshaw, Mr., 26, 75, 76, 77,
84 ; Mrs., 94 ; their son,
172.
Hell-fire club, call on a member,
46.
Helsham, Dr., 27.
Hertford, Earl of, 149.

250

INDEX.

Hibernian School, 198, 199.
Highlanders, dread of, 91.
Hill, the mathematician, 90.
Hips, a disorder, 91.
Hoadley, Benjamin, satire on,
67.
Hoames, x.
Honour of a poor Catholic,
182.-
Hughes, Dr., expelled from
Trinity College, 33.
Hume, David, 98, 99, 100.
Hurlothrumbo, 90.
Huston, Miss, aunt-presumptive
to Lord Bishop of Down, 50.
Hutcheson's system of philo
sophy, 107.
Ignorance of inhabitants of Fin
tona, 159; of Templecarn,
xxvi ; of man of fortune,
144.
Indians, ill success of Mr. Eccles
with, 171.
Innishowen, (recte Inis Eo-
ghain), xi.
lomarbadh na bfiledh, vii.
Ireland, Established church of,
xxiv ; south of, 83.
Irish, Matthew Young's know
ledge of, xxi.
Irishman, wild, 103.
Irwin, George, tithe farmer,
109.
Isaiah, Lowth on, 103.
Island, Magee, kindness of
natives of, 11.
James II., xxiii.
Jameson, a curate, 185.
Jebb, Dr. John, opinion of
Skelton, xii.
Johnston, Mr., 173.
Johnston, Artliur, given a shil
ling for honesty, 145.
Johnston, George, 148.
Johnston, Robert, of Pettigo,

Kibbed in (Irish ciobail), x.
Killcief, xviii, xix.
Kilwarlin, 1 1.
King, Archbishop, to a young
lord, 191.
King, Rev. Dr., 175.
Knox, Mrs., her charity, 183.
Knox, Squire, of Dungannon,
95-
Lactantius, 196.
Lansdowne, Marquis of, 128.
Latouche, Mr. John, 204.
Laud, Archbishop, 23.
Law, a cashier, 85.
Learning, when little valued, 46.
Leland, Dr., 194.
Leslie, Alexander, 142.
Leslie, Colonel John, xxvii.
Leslie, Dr., of Tanderagee, 1 86.
Leslie, Miss, 135.
Leslie, M iss, daughter of Henry,
227.
Leslie, Mr., 142.
Leslie, Mrs., xxvii.
Leslie of Nutfield, 187.
Leslie, Rev. William, 47.
Limerick, treaty of, xxiii.
Lindsay, Mr., 109.
Lindsey, denier of Trinity, 166.
Lindsey, Rev. Mr., xviii.
Lisburn, 13, 14, 31, 55, 149.
Listress, x.
Little, rebuked, 78.
Lock of potatoes, 182.
Loftus, Lord, 150.
Londonderry, viii, ix.
Long bullets, 64.
Lord advised to differ from
other Irish lords, 192.
Lough, Derg, xxv ; Foyle, xi.
Lowlands of Scotland, language
of, vii.
Lowth, Dr., 102.
Lucas, of Castle Shane, 49.
Macaulay, Lord, opinion of
Burdy's Life of Skelton, xii.

INDEX.

251

Mac. Conmidhe, Gillabrighde,
poem of, vi.
Mac. Donald, Mr., 16.
Mac. Donnel, Dr., 1 1 8.
Madden, Dr., 40 ; his charity,
44 ; his patriotism, 46 ; girl
sent to his house to learn
cookery, 129.
Madd,en, Mrs., her family pride,
41 ; her parsimony, 44 ;
offended with Skelton, 48.
Madden, INIiss, Skelton unjustly
accused of courting, 49.
Magdalen charity, 164.
Maheralin, 66.
Malt ground on Sunday, 161.
Manor-water-house, 41, 94.
Mare, faults not concealed, 147.
Marriage of old woman, 123.
Maul, Dr., 66.
Meal distributed at Pettigo,
133
Measter, Mr., Hawkshaw so
called, 193.
Memory of Skelton, xxvii.
Merchants of London, their
suppers, 102.
Methodists outcry against
Burdy's biography, xvii.
Millar, Andrew, 100, 105.
Misks (Irish miosc), x.
Monaghan, 48, 74, 130.
Monday market of Pettigo,
no.
Monea, 143.
Monthly Revie^u, xviii, xix.
Moore, Joseph, 186.
Morals depraved by stills, 144.
Morna's hill, poem, vii.
Mountjoy, Lord, xxii.
Mourne, 34.
Aloyola river, x.
^Muircheartach na gcochall
gcroicionn, circuit of, vi.
JNIunster, 122.
Mussen, James, 55 ; married
Skelton's niece, 58.
Myroe, ix.

Natives of Ulster, their linguistic
view, vii.
Newcastle, Duke of, xxiv.
Newry, 49, 50 ; canal, 84.
Newtown-Butler, 37, 47, no.
Kiall, Caille, viii ; Glundubh,
vi.
Oakboys, xxiv, 145.
O'Clery, Lughaidh, vii.
O'Donnell, Aodhruadh, vii ;
flight of, xxii ; Manus' Life
of Columcille, vii.
O'Donovan, John, his copy of
Colgan, xxvi.
Omagh, 154; heads fixed on
jail, 167.
O'Neill, Brian, poem on, vi ;
Hugh, xxii ; flight of, xxii ;
Rev. Mr., 198.
Orrery, Lord, 98.
Oxford, 98.
Palliseer, Dr., of Rathfarnham,
28; Mr., 27.
Patterson, Jonny, a tailor body,
159.
Peckwell, Dr., 211.
Percy, bishop, xiv; his daugh
ter, xiii ; his library, xvii.
Pettigo, xxv, xxvi, xxvii, 109,
in, 115, "7, 154, 155-
Petty, a blind man, 140.
Philip of Macedon, hfe of, 195.
Philosophical Survey of Ireland,
203.
Phrases used in co. Derry, x.
Physician, advice of, 51.
Pilgrims, xxvii, 140.
Plantation of Ulster, viii ; coun
ties aft'ected, xxii.
Plunket, Robert, n8, 120.
Poem against Burdy, xviii ; ot
Skelton, v.
Porter, John, a presbyterian,
77-
Portrait of Skelton, 2 1 6.
Premium-Madden, 37.

252

INDEX.

Presbyterians, advice to, 149 ;
in Fintona, 154.
Price of L'fe of Skelton, xix.
Pringle, Mr., 96, 97, 98.
Prior of Lough Derg, xxv.
Prushia {recte praiseach buidh,
brassica), boiled for break-
fist, 131.
Pupils, their malignity, 42.
Quarrels of students and
butcher--, 33.
Queal, a curate, 226.
Rapee wood, 137.
Raphoe, Catholic bishop of,
140; Protestant bishop of,
192.
Rathvilly, 165.
Rats, parcel of, 125.
Rebellion (1641), xxiii.
Reeves, Rev. Dr. William, xii.
Religion, enemies and friends
of, 99.
Reviewers, unfairness of, 128.
Reynell, Rev. William, xix.
Rhapsody of Shaftesbury, 90.
Rich, fond imagination of, 24.
Richardson, Miss, 82.
Richmond, heroism of, 205.
Ride, effects of, 119.
Right boys, 220, 223.
Robertson, History of Scotland,
195.
Robertson, Rev. Mr., 165.
Rossery, 173.
Rough outsport, x.
Rutland, Duke of, 207.
Sacrament, once a month,
reason for, 143.
Saggerton, Dick, suicide of,
160.
.St. George, a, 20.
St. Patrick's, attendance at, 34.
St. Paul, exhortation, 149.
Sampson, Rev. G. Vaughan,
ix.

Saville, Sir George, 180.
Scamined bog, xi.
Scotch professors, 26.
Scott, Dr., of Enniskillen, 115,
118, ng, 142, 148, 175, 186.
Sermons, ditficulties in writing,
71 ; in recompense for injury,
67.
Shaftesbury, Lord, 90.
Shaving on Sunday, 77.
Sherlock, Dr., 106.
Simpson, the ganger, 145.
Six counties, xxii.
Skelton, Dr., of Drogheda, 51,
175; Frances, wife of John
Arbuthnot, 55 ; James, 51 ;
John, 13, 51, 157 ; Mrs., 175 ;
Mrs. Nanny, 56.
Skelton, Philip, ancestry, 10;
sent to school at Lisburn, 13 ;
idleness, 14 ; used furze for
candles, 1 7 ; examined for
halfpence, 18 ; entry as sizer,
19; boxer and fencer, 20;
cudgel-player, 21 ; many ac-
\ quaintances, 22 ; Baldwin his
enemy, 22 ; accused of Jaco-
bitism, 23; Scholar (1726),
25 ; a cut of his, 25 ; con
tested election in college, 27 ;
fire, 30; ruse for degree, 31 ;
B.A., (1728), 32; dancing, 34 ;
ran up turf-stacks like a cat,
35 ; omission of prayers, 36 ;
exercises before ordination,
37 ; private tutor, 41 ;
charity, 43 ; pamphlet on
premiums, 44; curate of Mo
naghan, 48 ; slander against,
49 ; support of his mother,
54 ; letter about sister's
death, 57 ; attention to jail,
59 ; study of Physic, 61 ,
chastises tinkers, 65 ; chas
tises profane ofiicer, 65 ;
satire on Benjamm Hoadley,
6 7 ; Some Proposals for the
Revival of Christianity, 68 ;

INDEX.

253

pamphlet on petty jury, 6g ; I
sermon composed in twelve
hours, 70 ; neglect by Dr.
Sterne, 72 ; never in love,
79 ; experiences of the sex,
80 ; Necess'ity of 'Tillage, 82 ;
Curious Production qf Nature,
84 ; Tutor to Lord Charle
mont, 84; Truth in aMask, S6 ;
offered a school, 88 ; Candid
Reader, 90 ; Letter to Authors
of Divine Analogy, 90; Cheva
lier's Hopes, 9 r ; discussion
with Clayton on Holy Trin
ity, 93 ; hypochondriasis, 94,
J 19 ; joke upon Mr. Pringle,
97; Deism Revealed, g%, 100,
1&5 ; trusted by jeweller,
loi ; attended levee, 104 ; 1
preached about hell, ic8 ; ad- |
vised to marry bishop's niece,
log ; given parish of Tem
plecarn, no; instructed ig
norant parishioners, 113;
charitable gifts, 115; Dignity
of Christian Ministry, 116; ;
room with earthen floor, 118; ,
rehgious melancholy, ii3 ;
IVoe to . the Drunkard, 122;
marriage, views on, 123 ;
Consultation, 125; second
visit to London, 125 ; Dis
courses, 126; Preface to Clergy,
126; Preface to Citizens of
London, 126; sermons, cha
racter of,- 126 ; Cunning man,
128; eats boiled prushia, 131;
care of poor woman, 132;
sells his books, 134 ; charity
without distinction of religion,
135; An appeal to the Com
mon Sense, 139; given living
of Devenish, 141 ; farewell
to Pettigo, 141 ; method of
riding, 142; played piquet,
143; straightforward con
duct, 146 ; has methodist to
tea, 148 ; defects of memory.

154 ; preaches in meeting
house, 155 ; suddenly awak
ened, 162 ; charity sermons
in Dublin, 162 ; published
works in 5 volumes, 164;
Reasons for Inoculation, 165;
Account of a IVell, 165; Obser
vations on a Late Resignation,
165 ; A Dream, 166 ; Hilema,
1 66 ; wore hat before Bishop
of Clogher, 167 ; gifts at
Easter, 168 ; bought chaise,
169; Bishop of Clogher's
remark on him, 174 ; spent
winter in Dublin, 176 ; separ
ates boxers at Fintona, 1 76 ;
sermon at St. Andrew's, 177 ;
his wig, 178; distribution of
meal, 181 ; sells library for
second time, 183 ; wrote
quire of paper iu letters,
185; leftFintonaini78o, 187;
acquaintance with Burdy
began 1781, 187; way of life
in 1 7 81, 189 ; advice to arch
bishop, 190; recommended
study of Septuagint, 194 ;
lodged with Mr. B — , in B —
Street, 196 ; oflTered ten
guineas to make reservoir,
igg; lodged with Kinahan
and Gregg, grocers, 200 ;
toasted the Latouches, 205 ;
toasted Richmond the danc
ing-master, 205; talked with
Wesley, 208 ; lodged in
Peter's-row, 209; letter to
Burdy, 210 ; dined with
bishop at 2 p.m., 214; An
Appeal to Common Sense, 215;
Some Thoughts on Common
Sense, 215; Mrs. Stringer's
edition of his works, 216;
Mr. Holmes' portrait of him,
216; letter to Burdy, 217 ;
Senilia, 218; ' disliked gentle-
beggars ', 219; answered
Watson's catechism, 219 ;

2 54

INDEX.

last letter to Burdy, 220;
Burdy's last interview with
Skelton, 224 ; his last illness,
225 ; death. May 4, 1787,
226; his will, 226; his life,
character, works, and habits,
228 ; horses appreciate his
kindness, 235 ; effect of
Tristram Shandy on him,
237 ; opinion of Dr. Samuel
Johnson, 237; tomb-stone
placed by Miss LesHe, 244 ;
epitaph, 245.
Skelton, Richard, 10, n, 51,
151.
— Robert, 51.
— Thomas, 13, 30 ; three
marriages of, 49, 50, 51, 55 ;
death, 158.
Slaghmanus, cromlech of, x.
Sleater, publisher, 218.
Slide-car rut-way, x.
Slink-veal, 183.
Small-pox, 179.
Smyth, Bishop, 15.
Socinians, 67.
Solomon, drunken carpenter
quotes, 161.
Squire, fate of immoral, 69.
Steers, manager of Newry
canal, 84.
Sterne, protestant bishop of
Clogher, 37, 49, 68, 92 ; did
not encourage literature, 72;
notions of honour, 74; nepot
ism, 75.
Stills in Pettigo, 120; on islands
of Lough Erne, 144.
Stone, Primate, 138.
Straas, x.
Stringer, Sarah, of Summer
Hill, 216, 218.
Stuart, James, viii.
Suetonius, 145.
Suggaun (recte stjgan, a straw
rope), xi.
Swap, John, 227.
Swift, a good fire-maker, 33 ;

letter of, 46 ; succeeded
Sterne as dean of St. Pat
rick's, 49 ; Skelton's pamph
let read by, 69 ; on a duel,
79; verse quoted, n2 ;
writings to be studied, 195.
Table with unequal legs, 129.
Talmud, 38.
Targum, 39.
Templecarn, xxv, no; kind
ness of incumbent, xxvii.
Tench, a gentleman, 16.
Thomond, vi.
Thompson, a clergyman, 98,
XOI.
Tirconnel, vi.
Tithes, xxiv.
Torrens, Rev. Mr., xi.
Townshend, Lord, 158.
Transformation, the, a poem,
XX.
Triers of books, 100.
Trory, 143.
Turkey, ill-dressed, xxvi.
Turkil, Miss, 51.
Turn-out (1798), xxiii.
Tweezers, for dirt in keal, 129.
Tyrone, murders in, 167.
Ulidia (lesser Ulster), vi.
Ulster, literature of, v, vii.
Usher, Scotch, injustice of, 18.
Ficar of Wakefield, xxv.
Vindication, by Detector, xix.
"Volunteers, Irish, 56.
Wallace, Mr., 118.
Walter, Robert, 221.
Watson, Mr., 136, 196.
Watson, a Yorkshire vicar,
2 ig.
Watson, Samuel, of Dame
Street, 187.
Watson, Wifiiam, bookseller
in Capel Street, 134, 164,
176, 177-

INDEX.

2S5

Week's preparations, 1 5 g.
Werburgh's, St., 73.
Wesley, Mr., his cures, 207.
West, James, shopkeeper, i6g,
172.
Wheels and reels for poor, 139.
Whole duty of man, the old,
107.
Wig-block, apparition of, 89.
William III, xxni, 12.

Winding-sheetof Mrs. Granger,
36.
Woodcocks, argument from, as
to turkeys, 129.
Woodward, Dr., 185.
Wrightsome, Mr., 66, 78.
York, Archbishop of, his female
acquaintance, 109.
Young, Matthew, xxi.