cowardly, and once gave a woman half a crown for beating a man who strove to take a child from her.

While he lodged with William Watson, he preached a sermon at St. Andrew's, on Friday, December 13, 1776, being the day appointed for a general fast and humiliation. 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 furrowed 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 judgments 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 seemed to retain his wonted eloquence, and had an astonishing effect upon his bearers.

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 published for the benefit of the charity schools of the parish. It is an animated composition, but displays evident marks of hurry.

The regular series of events conducts me to another conspicuous period of his 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 possessed. Their mode of subsistence was therefore very precarious, of which the poor in that place were made too sensible about 1778, when they were in a very 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 ill prepared for it as then, for with difficulty he had collected, on account of the general distress, even a small part of his parochial income; all of which, except what barely afforded him subsistence, he had already given away to the poor, their necessities being 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 641. to buy oatmeal for them; which sum, being sent to Drogheda for that purpose, produced but four ton 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 fail, while the necessities and the number of 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 gentlemen who had landed property in the parish. Of this letter I obtained a copy at Fintona, and thus got some satisfactory intelligence respecting the dearth. He tells them of the afflictions of the poor, through 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 smallpox, 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, 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 nettles, to relieve a perishing parent or child; that some months before he had borrowed 647. 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 proportion to their quantity of land in the parish. The portion assigned Sir George Saville, who had 2001. a year in it, was 21. 13s. 4d.; which sum he thought so moderate, that he ordered his agent to give it annually to the poor of Fintona during his life. Mr. Eccles, his squire, and Miss Ecklin, of Stephen's Green, gave the most.

A great part of this money he laid out immediately on oatmeal, which was bought in Drogheda, and conveyed by carmen to Fintona in certain quantities as necessary. On Friday, which was the market-day, he determined to divide it among 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 equipped 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 still 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 to September, he distributed gratis among his indigent parishioners a 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, at that time there were on the poor's list from a 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 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 one day to his lodgings, and falling down on her knees, declared that 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 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 he 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 money would fail before the dearth ended, he starved himself, I may say, of the common necessaries 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 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 family nearer his heart, than Mr. Skelton had that of his people. He used to say triumphantly, "They all came through, and none of them starved."

At this season of calamity, the lady of Mr. Knox, for

merly a pupil 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 1001., 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 care of them, was his ostensible reason for parting with them; but the real cause of it was, that he wanted money to give to his poor, and the year after he bestowed on them 601. Some books that the doctor did not choose to take he gave to 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 distribute money among indigent housekeepers, who 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 some 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 came.

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 301. to buy flax-seed, which with her is a usual donation.

In 1778, he went up to Dublin in his chaise, and drove on to St. Mary's church, where Mr. Jameson one of the

At Fintona they assured me he got but 100l. for them, though I thought he told me be got more.