sharp remarks both on persons and practices, which, however agreeable to others, would probably be injurious to myself. He used to advise bishops to take care of their curates, and reward their faithful services. To one in particular, to whom he gave this advice, he said, "My lord, if you do so, the curates will 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 lordship's presence.

His late rector Mr. Hawkshaw, whom in jest he called Measter, 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 title. He told me, he was unable from age and infirmities to go through the collegiate exercises appointed on such occasions, and otherwise he would not take the degree. Besides, he said Jesus Christ forbade him 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 of the 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 knowledge in divinity was equal to his diligence, 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 of the State of Religion in the Heathen World," which, he said, was the best book

extant on the subject, candidly acknowledging that that author shewed 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 perceive the meaning which the original language naturally presented; and he explained to my satisfaction 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 afterward published in his Senilia.

His knowledge, however, was not confined to divinity. He was a complete master of every subject, on which literary men usually converse. 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 shewed him some little pieces in prose of my own composition, with which he found great fault 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 the advantage. It is, however, necessary 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 in tobacco, as he thought, at the beginning of the war, he quitted the snuff-shop, and became all at once a grand tobacco merchant. In his religious opinions he was somewhat fickle, for he generally changed them once a year; having been in his time a Church-of-England-man, Moravian, Anabaptist, Presbyterian, Quaker, Seceder, Newlight-man, Old-light-man, Mountain-man, and the like. Skelton and he were often together, for he used to break in on him to argue with him on religious matters. They argued furiously whole hours at once; but B-, he acknowledged, beat him at quoting Scripture, as he had it all by heart. He had odd notions 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 all his religion, he was a little licentious 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 little 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, which he sometimes exercised; at least, if he did not preach publicly, he exhorted the brethren in private.

Mr. Skelton's situation with them was not very pleasant. He was by nature of a social turn, and from age often stood in need of company; therefore 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 they 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, informing him, it was inconvenient for his wife to entertain his company; so that, if he could not be 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 Phoenix-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 Rev. Mr. O'Neill, 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 effect 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 few weeks after he was attacked by this disorder, I wrote him a letter from the north of Ireland, 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 mentioned, as the business seemed to require, what a high respect the late dean Bailie 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 * A school for educating the orphans and children of soldiers, in Ireland.

see me twinkling below him; the distance equally dimi nishes his magnitude to my eyes."

While he stayed at the Hibernian school, he catechised the children every Sunday in the chapel at the communiontable, and lectured most instructively 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 condition 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 October, he took up his abode in Trinity-street, at the house of Kinaban 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 which 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 disputing 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.