Dorchester. Sir Guy's 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. Philip 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 Turkil. Doctor Skelton of Drogheda is his son, a gentleman highly esteemed in his profession, who has now 401. 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 college. This was an obstruction to his literary progress. He was a man of a singular character, of strong natural parts, but addicted to drunkenness. His two other brothers, Richard and James, were decent country farmers. It is surprising, that the father of all 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.

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 earnestly 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 children he catechised every Sunday evening in the church, and when they became thoroughly acquainted with the original catechism, as in the prayer-book, he made them learn the proof-catechism, which confirms and illustrates the doctrines of the other by texts of Scrip

ture. 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 adults in any of the neighbouring parishes.

In the pulpit he displayed that strong and manly eloquence, which arrests the attention of the hearers. He was neither a dully drowsy lecturer, who calls the congregation to sleep, nor one of the smooth pretty preachers, that tickle the ears 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, being decorated with piety, chastity, humility, and charity. For this last mentioned amiable quality, he was eminent perhaps above all others in Ireland. Being born, as he considered, for the benefit of the poor, he exerted all his endeavours to mitigate their sorrows. A great part of his annual pittance he gave them, and often scarcely allowed himself even the necessaries of life. Some particulars of his remarkable charities I shall relate in the sequel of this narrative. His life and preaching were attended with the success which 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 40l. 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 jails. Yet with this he contrived to do wonders; for he avoided all unnecessary expense, accounting himself 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 however, 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 often obliged him on these occasions. After paying for his diet and lodging, he gave, I am told, his mother out of his stipend 107. 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 all the way to Derriaghy on 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 filial 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 obtained the cure of Monaghan, he made up 201. 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 301. 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. I 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 and resigned. This disease at length put an end to her life, in March 1783, in the seventy-fourth year of her age. It was remarkable, that until her death she could read the smallest print in a newspaper without spectacles.

A maiden sister, Mrs. Nanny, as we called 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 volunteers looked very handsome to-day, their arms glittered beautifully." Her vanity in this respect made her liable to mistakes; she has often, on my coming to see her, called me by a different name, yet, when undeceived, would never acknowledge her infirmity. She came once into a very small 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 expense, who had contributed sufficiently 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.

"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 of the house I am still debtor for to 21. 10s. and for funeral expenses, as before for poor Fanny's remains, 51. 13s. 9d. making in all 81. 3s. 9d. If Mr. Agnew,† to whom my best wishes, will be so good as to pay her that Hannah Arbuthnot, niece by the husband to widow Arbuthnot, his other

sister.

↑ A relation of mine, who acted like a son towards Mr. Skelton's two old sisters living in Dromore.

sum, or the 21. 10s. 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 expenses himself, if she did not take them out of the fourteen guineas I sent her by him. Hannah is the best judge of the maid's attendance and trouble, and may either give her the 11s. odd money included in the fourteen guineas, or keep them to herself. If she gives them to the maid she shall be no loser by so doing. If I shall die worth any thing, she will find herself entitled to 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 persons, 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 build 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 yours,

"PHIL. SKELTON."

He calls Hannah Arbuthnot his sister for her tenderness to his two old sisters in their sickness. Afterward 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 lifetime, which he intended to leave them in his will. Having given this information concerning 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, but 301. 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 scrupulous in observing. They generally received from him all except what barely afforded him the necessaries of life, of which he often pinched himself to supply