THE manuscript of William Carleton's unfinished autobiography was discovered 26 years after his death and first published 100 years ago. It was written in the last year of his life when he was becoming blind and deaf but it betrays no sign of incapacity indeed, the old man's memories of his youth are presented with such vividness that they might have been written immediately after the events they describe rather than 60 years later.

Narrated in the picaresque manner of Le Sage's Gil Bias, a book which Carleton greatly admired, the Autobiography traces the young man's progress from his birthplace in the Clogher valley of Tyrone to Dublin where he got married and eventually established himself as a writer.

Unfortunately the story breaks off some years in advance of his debut so we never learn how he came to be writing anti Catholic propaganda under the aegis of the Rev Caesar Otway, a virulent opponent of the Roman Catholic church.

Carleton at one time had thought of entering the priesthood, probably as a means of escaping from the laborious and restricted life of a small farmer, for at no time did he show any strong religious feeling.

According to himself it was the experience of a pilgrimage to Lough Derg and some mature reflection that led to his detachment from the church of his fathers, but it seems more likely that it was his failure to obtain a diocesan bursary that fired the antagonism he expressed in his writings. His conversion to Protestantism did not prevent him from attacking, nor from establishing friendly relations with, the clergy of both denominations.

The Autobiography barely concerns itself with religious matters. It is a colourful portrait gallery of country types and none more colourful than Carleton himself. His origin was "beyond doubt humble", he emphasises, "but it was unquestionably respectable".

His parents had had little or no formal education but they inherited a rich oral tradition, predominantly Gaelic, and the young boy was enthralled by the stories told by his father and the songs sung by his mother. To the boy's English and Irish was added the Latin he acquired in the hedge schools which arose from time to time in his district.

He was not slow to show off his learning and was naively proud of the standing this gave him, especially with the womenfolk; but - more than anything he prided himself on his athletic exploits. He took such pleasure in his prowess - running, jumping, swimming, tossing the weight, football, dancing - that it is almost churlish to note that the scene of one of his greatest triumphs, Carleton's Leap, as it was long called, is less impressive than he would lead us to believe.

Apart from his classical studies and his sports Carleton was ashamedly idle and not till he was over 20 did he make any effort to fend for himself. This was due more to the increasing reluctance of his relatives to support him than to any marked wish of his own.

He was ambitious, he believed in the gipsy's prophecy that he would go to Dublin and be a great man, but he had no clear idea of what form his future might take, so he set out on his travels, tutoring here and hedge schooling there and gradually making his way southward. From whatever scrapes he got into he emerged as, cheerfully as Gil Blas and was as little scrupulous about paying his bills.

Once in Dublin he had a succession of unsatisfactory teaching, jobs and those in Mullingar and Carlow, where his story ends, were no better. Carleton always felt that the fates were against him but had it not been for the thronged early years of his life he could hardly have written with the vigour he did.

This fiction was based more on memory than imagination. He had but to recall a face or a place and he instantly had a whole budget of incidents at hand to adorn a tale or by a process of addition to form a novel.

The Autobiography discloses his wealth of raw materials, as well as his belief in his own genius and his serene incapacity for self doubt no modesty is allowed to spoil the story.