His strict and rigid economy 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, 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 resemblance 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 tolerably fertile; but persons 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. Consequently, 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 timehe left Buchanan's, and went to board and lodge with James West, a shopkeeper, in whose house Mr. Eccles, the squire of his parish, lodged along with him some time, and they lived very agreeably together, as Mr. Eccles, who is a gentleman of real piety, was fond of religious conversation. He was indeed so remarkable for this, that Mr. Skelton used often to say, he had too much reliligion for a gentleman. However, we need not be apprehensive that others of his station will catch the infection.

Mr. Eccles had a brother a clergyman, the Rev. 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. Skel

ton's lodgings, and stayed in a room together a whole week, all which time he spent examining into Mr. Charles Eccles's principles, and was at length convinced, that, strictly speaking, he was not a Methodist. 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. While 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 particular, the sayages chased them away with stones; on which they shook the dust of their feet as a judgment against them. In a day or two after they heard, (strange to tell!) 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 clergymen met with his death (in 1780) in the following manner. While 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 partial to 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, while he was walking up the aisle, was thus addressed by Skelton, " I suppose, Sir, you have not come to hear me, till 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 ye shall know them."

One Brown, 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, 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, and 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 Athanasian 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 while, until he got a living. About 1773, Mr. Auchinleck became his curate. 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 201. a year for his diet and lodging, &c. and he would pay the rest with which 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 more reasonable agreement with Mr. West. He then went to lodge in the same house with Mr. Skelton, who insisted on giving him share of his own wine after dinner, and also on paying 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 pay for them. For the cure he gave him 607. a year, while he resided at Fintona, and seventy afterward. He also allowed him advantages from the management of his tithe, and let him a part of the glebe at a low rent when he removed to Dublin.

Being often, on a vacancy, appointed sequestrator to a living, he always raised the curate's salary from 40 to 50l. This he did at Rossery, where he was sequestrator, when he had Devenish.

To the poor curates indeed he was always a sincere friend, as also to all others, whose condition made them stand in need of his assistance. While he had Fintona, he went once to recommend to a certain eminent prelate,

an old curate who was remarkable for his morals, learning, and abilities. After some conversation, he told his grace he had come to him on business. "What business?" his grace quickly replied. "I am come," he answered, "to recommend to your grace, Mr. Johnston, an old curate of great merit in your diocess, who will soon die, and it is a shame he should die a curate. I beg, therefore, you may give him a small living." "He is an odd sort of man," his grace said, and then gave him a refusal. On which Mr. Skelton spoke to him thus: "I 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 ***.”

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 little 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 illustrious person he also remarked, that he was very careful to build churches, but did not care what sort of clergymen he put in them.

At Drogheda, he was told once, that the same eminent prelate would 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 all the delicacy in my power, but it is not, I think, the duty of a biographer to conceal the truth.

In 1771, he went to live, during the winter, with his nephew, Dr. Skelton, in Drogheda, and continued to stay there in winters, till about 1774, when he parted from him on an

imaginary insult. He had written a letter to the Rev. Dr. King in Dublin, inviting him and his two sisters to spend some time with him in Drogheda. This letter lying with another 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 gentleness and goodness, somewhat roughly, he hastened away from the house; nor was he afterward, which was very odd, sufficiently reconciled 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 from him at Enniskillen from Dublin, which was intended for the Rev. 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 which he valued very much. But the villains, I dare say, expected something more substantial in it than sermons, or the like: otherwise, they would not so easily 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 stayed 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 juvenile strength. Two fellows were boxing at an inn at Fintona, and he happened to see them; on which he ran in between them, to part them, which he accomplished with difficulty; 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 shewed himself