before her, as you would a puppet, then carrying him to the stairs, let him drop. When he had thus punished the 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 resolution, telling him he ought to think the more of the young lady for having many admirers. But his advice did not avail, as he observed, that if she were fond of him, she would have no familiar intercourse with another.

He seemed indeed once to have had an ardent passion for a Miss Richardson, for in his eagerness to see her, he rode across the lake of Coothill in the great frost, without perceiving he was riding on ice. However, we may suppose his fondness soon began to cool. His situation of curate, I should think, made him cautious of plunging too deep into love. He knew that marriage must have confined him still 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 of his 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 1741, 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 estate of the member of parliament, to whom this letter is addressed, lay in the south of Ireland, 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 im

provement. In this letter he shews by the strongest arguments the excellence of agriculture over pasturage, advising the gentlemen 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 computed, that as many people died of want, or of disorders occasioned by it, during that time, as fell by the sword in the massacre and rebellion of fortyone. Whole parishes in some places were almost desolate; the dead were eaten in the fields by dogs, for want of people to bury them." The letter proves his knowledge in agriculture, and contains many excellent precepts, which, if put in practice, would help to civilize the south of Ireland, which is sunk in idleness 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 which it treats of. It has been remarked by some judges of 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 silken web on the bark of the trees. Some of these continued for two years, but were nearly 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 difficulty 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. How

ever, the man's passion cooling after a while, he ventured to come out from his retreat.

Having now given up all hopes of preferment from the bishop of Clogher, he accepted (in 1742) 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, 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 civility 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 Charlemont, 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 Wilcocks, 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. Adderly.*

This little dispute with the guardian producing some ill humour between them, Skelton determined to resign the tuition, and took the following 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 pub

This intelligence relating to Mr. A. I received at Monaghan from a person, to whom Mr. Hawkshaw recommended me to apply for authentic information.

lished (in 1743) "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." He acknowledges that no blame could be laid to his lordship. It is easy indeed to observe by the dedication, that he looked on lord Charlemont in his juvenile 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 for their commander, men who sacrificed private ease and profit to the public good, are too well known to be dwelt upon here.

His reason for writing "Truth in a Mask," which consists of thirteen allusions, 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 following allusions 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 allusions, 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 judicious alone, it is not to be hoped they will please many." Yet I doubt if they ever proved as agreeable even to the learned and judicious reader, as the author expected. Their meaning is often too dark; the things to which they allude are not shewn with sufficient clearness. In compositions of this sort, which proceed wholly 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 admirable advice in very forcible language, is more worthy of being preserved than any of the allusions.

On leaving the tuition of lord Charlemont, he returned, as already mentioned, to his cure, which was kept open for

him by his indulgent rector, Mr. Hawkshaw, and he began to apply busily, as before, to reading and composition. While he was a curate, and engaged thus at close study, he was offered a school worth 500l. a year arising from the benefit of the scholars. But he refused it, as the acceptance of this office must have obstructed him in his literary progress. He had marked out for himself several useful compositions which he intended to publish, few or none of which could ever have been completed, 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 clamourous boys were vociferating around us?

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 from executing the plans he had formed.

About this time he was walking on the road near Monaghan, when a fine dressed servant came 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 dependence 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, also sufficient leisure to pursue his studies. The offer appearing advantageous required some consideration. He therefore informed 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 his 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 *This is something of the marvellous, but I give it as I received it.