Mr. Skelton, in his conversation with him, talked lightly of the common stories we hear about devils and ghosts, and mentioned to him, in a ludicrous way, that some people in one of his parishes, imagined they were haunted by them. But Mr. W. he said, was very grave, and did not seem willing to join in the joke. He would indeed have been inconsistent with himself, if he had; for there was scarce a magazine he put out, that had not some marvellous story in it of this kind. Yet he probably considered these and the like as so many pious frauds necessary to serve the cause of Methodism, which usually has most effect on weak minds. And indeed it is but reasonable to think, that he had too much good sense to believe every absurdity he countenanced by his authority.

In June, Mr. Skelton changed his lodgings again. Leaving the grocer's in Trinity-street, he went to board and lodge in Peter's-row with the Rev. Richard Drury, a young clergyman whom he recommended for a cure to the archbishop of Dublin. His reasons for going to live with this clergyman were such as had always an effect on his benevolent mind.

His strenuous applications for me at this time to certain persons of consequence, the disappointments he met with, and the excuses that were offered, I am obliged to omit, lest I should seem to obtrude myself or my affairs on the public attention, which of late has been the practice of some biographers, who had not prudence enough to conceal their vanity. Yet I shall not, I hope, be accused of this weakness by quoting a part of a letter he wrote me then, espe cially as it contains a general advice to every young clergyman on undertaking the care of a parish.

"You see I have lost no time nor ground which I could use for you. And you see too how I am made accountable for you to lord ***. But pray consider, how awfully, and even fearfully I am made accountable for you to an infinitely greater Lord. You cannot blast me without blasting yourself in the sight of God and man, You are rather to derive fear than vanity from the high character given of you, and for the struggle made for you among the most considerable men of the time, excited by the providence of God. Let therefore a warm zeal animate you to the service and

glory of God, and to the salvation of souls. Let the wisdom of the serpent and the innocence of the dove direct all your exertions. Let your words be few, slow, and articulate, that the hearer, whether in church or company, may have no trouble in taking your meaning, nor have occasion to find fault with it when he understands it. Maturely consider, that lord ***, dean **, and many others, before whom you are to appear either publicly or privately, have a thousand times more sense than you. Think therefore before you speak, and speak but little, enough for the occasion, whatever it may be, and not a syllable more. God direct and bless you. You cannot conceive how great an object of apprehension you are, to your poor old friend,

"PHIL. SKELTON."

It was indeed with propriety he prescribed to others, who was himself so eminent for his abilities in the pulpit, and his conduct in private life.

About the end of the same year, his ears were stunned with the fame of the pulpit-orator, Dr. Peckwell, who preached through Dublin in meeting-houses, methodisthouses, and churches. Crowds followed after him, enticed by novelty, as he preached without notes, which is a sure way of captivating the multitude, who are always taken with strange appearances. I went to Bride's church to hear him, and sat in the reading-desk with Mr. Skelton, who, though he complimented him when he had finished on the orthodoxy of his sermon, yet afterward remarked to me, that his action seemed more violent than proper. “When I looked up at him," he said, "I saw his arms from my seat under the pulpit moving over my head, like the arms of a windmill." He also observed, that he was too handsome for a preacher, as the women, instead of profiting by his sermons, would be only admiring him. Our Saviour's person and face were, he said, on that account, rather ordinary, as some of the fathers inform us. About three months after, he sent him from England a sermon he had just then "published, the merits of which I thought not extraordinary. But a cold phlegmatic reader is not so easily pleased as a hearer who is warned and captivated by the voice, gesticulations and countenance of the extempore preacher. Adde vultum habitumque hominis.

To remedy, in some degree, the inconvenience that attends the use of notes, Mr. Skelton advised me to follow his method of copying my sermons in a large fair hand. It was indeed his ardent wish, that the clergy of our church, in their public and private conduct, should afford no pretence for the cavils of sectaries, some of whom tell us we read our sermons like a ballad. Yet he was possessed, I think, with an unreasonable dread of the Presbyterians; for he imagined they would have taken his living from him before he died; one of them, he said, who was a volunteer, told him so. But his apprehensions, we may suppose, were partly the effects of old age. Senectus falsa formidine ludit.

If the people of our church were allowed to adopt the Presbyterian mode of choosing their own clergy, it would produce, he said, more harm than good. For in that case, the landlords would oblige them to vote for those they pleased, as they do now at elections, because it would then be worth their while to interfere to get a friend or a relation a good living. "If so," he continued, "I should never have got a living, for my father was only a plain countryman." But if there were opposite interests in a parish, this would produce boxing, quarrelling, and ill-will. It appears then, that injustice, would be done according to that mode; injustice, it is owned, is also done now, and since injustice must be done, let it be done quietly.

He was not only qualified for sober reasoning of this kind, but could adapt his conversation and behaviour to his company. I never found him out of temper, but always gay and good-humoured. He was never sour nor sullen with the young, but made a proper allowance for the levities peculiar to their age, having nothing of the old man about him, except that he was a little deaf. Of children he was remarkably fond, and could spend hours with them, partaking of their little sports.

Some time after this, he consented to dine with a certain bishop, on condition he would have dinner on the table at two o'clock; but Mr. Skelton came exactly at twelve, when his lordship and his lady were going out on business. The bishop told him he was very sorry he came so soon, as Mrs. ** and he were obliged to go out, and could not be home until two. But he observed, that his lordship need not

be concerned, as he would amuse himself with "these sweet little things," pointing to the children. Accordingly, he diverted himself with them, at ball or marbles, or such like childish sports, until his lordship returned, when he told him he was charmed with their company, and that they only wanted wings to be angels.

A part of a letter he wrote me, when I complained of being too much disturbed by the noise of children, may serve still more to illustrate his character in this particular. "Play with the children," he said, "now and then, the best method of conciliating their father and mother; and then little laughing children are, of all others, the sweetest and most pleasing companions. Give one of them an apple, and another a fig, and settle with them not to be too noisy when you are at your book or pen. At other times, invite them to be noisy with yourself, and to ride on your back."

Though his company was so agreeable, yet he frequently spent his evenings alone, and often told me, when I called to see him, that it was a charity to come and sit with him awhile, he was so much deserted. Of his conversation, however instructive and amusing, I was deprived in the beginning of the ensuing year (1784) but still enjoyed the benefit of his letters.

In the same year he published by subscription his sixth volume, entitled, "An Appeal to Common Sense on the Subject of Christianity," &c. This volume, the profits of which were, as the former ones, to be applied to the Magdalen charity, is also dedicated to lady Arabella Denny.

The Appeal is, in my opinion, superior in style and arrangement to any thing he wrote before. It is in general plain, sensible, void of false ornament, from which his sermons and other pieces are not entirely free. It contains an historical proof of the truth of Christianity, and shews his faculties were in their full force at the age of seventysix. To this are added, "Some Thoughts on Common Sense," in which there are some attempts at wit not always successful; for his wit, though excellent in company, seemed to evaporate when communicated to paper. The rest of this volume consists of thirteen hymns, with a poetic introduction to them, and a Latin poem, which appear rather

calculated to enliven his own piety in private, than to excite devotion in others.

A few days after the publication of this volume, he received the following letter.

"Reverend Sir,

"I have read your Appeal to Common Sense on the Subject of Christianity. I wish all the world could say the same; but at present few can have that advantage. If you will permit a less expensive edition to be published, that may be the means of rendering the circulation more extensive, and of promoting the great end for which you laboured.

Summer-Hill, Sept. 21, 1784.

"I am your humble servant,
"SARAH STRINGER."

In compliance with this proposal, which, it may be supposed, was very agreeeble to him, a cheaper edition was published soon after at her expense, with the foregoing letter prefixed. When it was in the press, he sent her, 121. to pay part of the expense of printing, but she refused to take it. Of this edition, he bestowed about two hundred on each of the parishes he had the care of, either as curate or rector.

Mrs. Stringer having earnestly requested him to permit her to have his picture taken, he at last consented, on her promise of allowing no one to take a copy of it, and of destroying it before she died. This lady then employed a Mr. Holmes to draw it on canvas, who made as exact a likeness as ever I saw.* Formerly, a Mr. John Eccles, of Fintona, took his picture in profile, but he would not sit to have it taken in full.

He was accused this year of being the author of a political pamphlet called the " Alarm," which he publicly disavowed in a newspaper.

The favourable reception of the Appeal induced him, even at so advanced an age, to continue writing for the

She died in the latter end of March, having destroyed the picture three months before.