CHAPTER X

Determines to leave England--His arrival in America--Settles at

Northumberland--His closing days--His death.

Priestley's position in London for some time after his arrival there was

very insecure, and so apprehensive were his friends of further outrage

that it was thought necessary to provide him with a disguise and to

arrange a plan of escape in case the house should be attacked. At first

he was not allowed to appear in the streets. Ultimately he was moved to

Tottenham, where he spent a month.

In the middle of October a house was taken for him in Hackney, but it

was with difficulty that the landlord, who feared his property would be

demolished, was persuaded to accept him as a tenant. Here, however, he

proceeded to build himself a laboratory, and in a letter to Thomas

Wedgwood, of October 18, 1791, he says:--

"As soon as convenient I shall be obliged to your father if he will

supply me, as usual, with such retorts as you make, viz., earthen

tubes closed at the end and open, and some with two necks. Small

_retorts_, _evaporating-dishes_, _mortars_ and _levigators_. Perhaps

your servants here can tell me the price at which I must estimate

those that were destroyed by the riot. I must soon give in an account

of my losses, and I fear that some person on your part must attend at

Warwick to attest the value. Mr Nairn, Mr Parker and others have

promised to attend. But I have prepared [proposed] a conference

between my appraiser and those for the county in London, which, if

they be disposed to do justice, will save much trouble and expense.

"Whether I shall be invited to succeed Dr Price is uncertain. Many

apprehend public disturbance in consequence of my coming. I could not

get a house let in my own name. A friend took it in his. I have,

however, very handsome proposals from France, particularly the offer

of a house completely furnished, two miles from Paris, and another

polite invitation from Toulouse, to take up my residence in the South

of France in 'a monastery which reason has recovered from

superstition.'"

Priestley's claim for damages amounted to £3628, 8s. 9d. Hutton says his

real loss was upwards of £4500 (Jewitt's _Life of Hutton_, p. 255). The

Court allowed £2502, 18s. In the town of Birmingham property to the

value of £50,000 was destroyed, of which sum £26,961, 2s. 3d. was

finally paid by a rate on the Hundred, in which Birmingham is included

(Sam Timmins, _Trans. Midl. Inst._, 1875).

Lindsey, writing to his friend, Alexander of Yarmouth, under date

October 15, 1791, mentioning Priestley, says:--

"He is very well, and with his wonted cheerfulness, which has never

forsaken him. Sunday last he preached for me for the first time since

he has been expelled by fire and destruction out of his own place of

worship, and he does me that favour to-morrow again. He has at last,

though very reluctantly, and much to the concern of his late beloved

people, given up the thought of continuing the pastoral office among

them, as the exercise of it would not probably be consistent with his

personal safety and liberty; such is the temper of his many

adversaries still, and so hostile to him."

The managers of other Dissenting chapels had not the courage of Lindsey

and begged that he would refrain from preaching to their congregations.

Eventually he was invited to take the position formerly occupied by his

friend Price.

The rancour of his enemies now broke out afresh, and the most persistent

efforts were made to damage and disparage him in the eyes of his

congregation. His friends in the neighbourhood were advised to move

their effects to some place of greater safety, as it was common rumour

that his house was to be attacked on the succeeding anniversary of the

Birmingham riot. His servants were afraid to remain for any length of

time with him, and the tradespeople hesitated to take his custom. He was

several times burnt in effigy along with Tom Paine. Coloured caricatures

of him, of the grossest and coarsest kind, in which he was described as

"the treacherous rebel and Birmingham rioter" were scattered broadcast.

Insulting letters, in some of which he was likened to Guy Fawkes or the

devil himself, were sent to him from all parts of the country, even from

men calling themselves ministers of the Gospel. In one of these he was

threatened with being burned alive before a slow fire. The Rev. Dr

Tatham, Rector of Lincoln College, Oxford, whose biographer compared him

with Warburton ("There is much of the same rough, unpolished strength in

his language"), thus addressed him:--

"Long have you been the Danger of this country, the Bane of its

Polity, and the Canker-worm of its Happiness. Long, too long, have

your Principles tended to bereave it of its Religion, its

Constitution, and consequently of its King."

Burke, to his everlasting shame, inveighed against him in the House of

Commons, and many of his associates in the Royal Society shunned him.

His position in the Society became eventually so irksome that he

withdrew from it, as he explains in the preface to his _Observations and

Experiments on the Generation of Air from Water_, which he published in

pamphlet form at Hackney, with a dedication to the members of the Lunar

Society.

In a letter to Withering, written from Clapton, October 2, 1792, he

says:--

"... One of the things that I regret the most in being expelled from

Birmingham is the loss of your company and that of the rest of the

Lunar Society. I feel I want the spur to constant exertion which I had

with you. My philosophical friends here are cold and distant. Mr

Cavendish never expressed the least concern on account of anything I

had suffered, though I joined a party with which he was, and talked

with them some time. I do not expect to have much intercourse with any

of them.

"I have, however, nearly replaced my apparatus, and intend not to be

idle. I have already made some experiments relating to the _doctrine

of phlogiston_, and when I have made a few more shall probably write

something on the subject. I am surprised at the confidence with which

the French chemists write; but I cannot yet learn what they have to

object to my last paper in the _Philosophical Transactions_....

"I was in hopes to have been able to pay my friends of Birm. a visit

long before this time, but was always discouraged, so that I have now

given up the thoughts of it, and must content myself with seeing as

many of them as I can here.... I do not, however, think I shall

continue here long. Though unwillingly, I shall some time hence follow

my son to France. But as I can _do_ nothing there I will stay here as

long as I can."

To what lengths the Government were determined to go was seen in their

banishment, in 1793, of Thomas Fyshe Palmer, a gentleman of a highly

respectable and opulent family in Bedfordshire, to Botany Bay for seven

years, because he had been concerned in publishing a paper in favour of

Parliamentary Reform; and in their treatment of Mr Winterbotham, a

Calvinistic minister of Plymouth Dock, on account of his political

opinions. The mock trial of Mr Winterbotham at Newgate and the four

years' imprisonment which followed it, created a wide-spread feeling of

indignation and alarm, and many families were constrained to leave the

country in disgust. Among them was Priestley's friend and

fellow-sufferer, the worthy Mr Russell, who on his way to Boston, New

England, was captured with his family by a French privateer and thrown

into prison in Brest.

Priestley, at length, also determined to follow them. It was however

with the greatest reluctance that he came to that decision. It meant

parting from affectionate and devoted friends to whom he was warmly

attached, whose zeal to serve him and to minister to his wants far

outweighed the hatred of those who sought to cover him with oblivion. It

meant too the relinquishment in large measure of his philosophical

pursuits since he could not hope to procure elsewhere the same

facilities for inquiry that he enjoyed here. More than all it seemed to

mean the relinquishment of what was still dearer to him--his active

efforts in the propagation of Unitarianism. Lastly it meant in all human

probability a lasting severance from the daughter to whom he was so

tenderly attached. He was largely guided to his decision by

consideration for his sons, since, as he says, he found that the bigotry

of the country in general made it impossible for him to place them here

with any advantage. His second son, William, had been some time in

France, but on the breaking out of the troubles in that country he had

embarked for America, where his two brothers, Joseph and Henry, met him.

They had a project of founding a settlement near the head of the

Susquehanna in Pennsylvania, and several of Priestley's friends at home,

among them Mr William Russell of Birmingham, a leader of the New

Meeting-House, were directly interested in the scheme.

Priestley at length decided to throw in his lot with his sons, and in

the preface to his _Fast and Farewell Sermons_, which he delivered to

his Hackney congregation on the eve of his departure, he gave his

reasons for leaving the country:--

"After the riots in Birmingham it was the expectation, and evidently

the wish of many persons, that I should immediately fly to France or

America. But I had no consciousness of guilt to induce me to fly from

my country. On the contrary, I came directly to London, and instantly,

by means of my friend, Mr Russell, signified to the King's ministers

that I _was_ there and ready, if they thought proper, to be

interrogated on the subject of the riots.

"Ill-treated as I thought I had been, not merely by the populace of

Birmingham, for they were the mere tools of their superiors, but by

the country in general, which evidently exulted in our sufferings, and

afterwards by the representatives of the nation, who refused to

inquire into the cause of them, I own I was not without deliberating

upon the subject of emigration; and several flattering proposals were

made to me, especially from France, which was then at peace within

itself and with all the world; and I was at one time much inclined to

go thither, on account of its nearness to England, the agreeableness

of its climate, and my having many friends there.

"But I likewise considered that if I went thither I should have no

employment of the kind to which I had been accustomed; and the season

of active life not being, according to the course of nature, quite

over, I wished to make as much use of it as I could. I therefore

determined to continue in England, exposed as I was not only to

unbounded obloquy and insult, but to every kind of outrage; and after

my invitation to succeed my friend Dr Price I had no hesitation about

it...."

He then goes on to show how insecure his position was, and how

impossible it was to follow his avocations in peace, in face of the

odium and insult he continually met with:--

"These facts not only show how general was the idea of my particular

insecurity in this country, but what is of much more consequence, and

highly interesting to the country at large, an idea of the general

disposition to rioting and violence that prevails in it, and that the

Dissenters are the objects of it. Mr Pitt very justly observed, in his

speech on the subject of the riots at Birmingham, that it was 'the

effervescence of the public mind.' Indeed, the effervescible matter

has existed in this country ever since the civil wars in the time of

Charles I., and it was particularly apparent in the reign of Queen

Anne. But the power of Government under the former princes of the

House of Hanover prevented its doing any mischief. The late events

show that this power is no longer exerted as it used to be, but that

on the contrary there prevails an idea, well or ill founded, that

tumultuary proceedings against Dissenters will not receive any

effectual discouragement.

"After what has taken place with respect to Birmingham, all idea of

much hazard for insulting and abusing the Dissenters is entirely

vanished; whereas the disposition to injure the Catholics was

effectually checked by the proceedings of the year 1780. From that

time they have been safe, and rejoice in it. But from the year 1791

the Dissenters have been more exposed to insult and outrage than ever.

"The necessity I was under of sending my sons out of this country was

my principal inducement to send the little property that I had out of

it too; so that I had nothing in England besides my library, apparatus

and household goods.

"By this I felt myself greatly relieved, it being of little

consequence where a man already turned sixty ends his days. Whatever

good or evil I have been capable of is now chiefly done; and I trust

that the same consciousness of integrity which has supported me

hitherto will carry me through anything that may yet be reserved for

me. Seeing, however, no great prospect of doing much good, or having

much enjoyment here, I am now preparing to follow my sons; hoping to

be of some use to them in their present unsettled state, and that

Providence may yet, advancing in years as I am, find me some sphere of

usefulness with them."

He then goes on to deal with the charge that he was a factious,

political parson who preached sedition:--

"As to the great odium that I have incurred, the charge of _sedition_,

or my being an enemy to the constitution or peace of my country, is a

mere pretence for it; though it has been so much urged that it is now

generally believed, and all attempts to undeceive the public with

respect to it avail nothing at all. The whole course of my studies

from early life shows how little _politics_ of any kind have been my

object. Indeed, to have written so much as I have in _theology_, and

to have done so much in _experimental philosophy_, and at the same

time to have had my mind occupied, as it is supposed to have been,

with factious politics, I must have had faculties more than human."

It is true, he says, he wrote a pamphlet "On the State of Liberty in

this Country" at the time of Wilkes's election for Middlesex, and at the

request of Franklin he wrote an address to the Dissenters on the subject

of the approaching rupture with America; but he has nothing to reproach

himself with on that score, and posterity agrees with him. His

connection with the Marquis of Lansdowne was in no sense political.

"Although," he says, "I entered into almost all his views, as thinking

them just and liberal, I never wrote a single political pamphlet, or

even a paragraph in a newspaper, all the time that I was with him, which

was seven years."

He had never preached a political sermon in his life, unless such as he

believed all Dissenters usually preached on the 5th of November in

favour of civil and religious liberty may be said to be political. Even

on those occasions he had never advanced any sentiment that would have

made him until then obnoxious to the administration of this country. The

doctrines he adopted when young, and which were even popular then

(except with the clergy, who were at that time generally disaffected to

the family on the throne), he could not now abandon merely because the

times were so changed that they had become unpopular and the expression

of them hazardous.

Although he did not disapprove of societies for political information,

he never was a member of one, nor did he ever attend any public meeting

if he could decently avoid it.

"If, then, my real crime has not been _sedition_, or _treason_, what

has it been? For every _effect_ must have some adequate _cause_, and

therefore the odium that I have incurred must have been owing to

something in my declared sentiments or conduct that has exposed me to

it. In my opinion it cannot have been anything but my open hostility

to the doctrines of the Established Church, and more especially to all

civil establishments of religion whatever. This has brought upon me

the implacable resentment of the great body of the clergy; and they

have found other methods of opposing me besides _argument_ and that

use of the _press_ which is equally open to us all. They have also

found an able ally and champion in Mr Burke, who (without any

provocation except that of answering his book on the French

Revolution) has taken several opportunities of inveighing against me

in a place where he knows I cannot reply to him, and from which he

also knows that his accusation will reach every corner of the country

and consequently thousands of persons who will never read any writings

of mine. They have had another, and still more effectual vehicle of

their abuse in what are called the _treasury newpapers_, and other

popular publications.

. . . . . . .

"I could, if I were so disposed, give my readers many more instances

of the bigotry of the clergy of the Church of England with respect to

me which could not fail to excite in generous minds equal indignation

and contempt: but I forbear. Had I, however, foreseen what I am now

witness to, I certainly should not have made any attempt to replace my

library or apparatus, and I soon repented of having done it. But this

being done, I was willing to make some use of both before another

interruption of my pursuits.... I hoped to have had no occasion for

more than one, and that a final, remove. But the circumstances above

mentioned have induced me, though with great and sincere regret, to

undertake another, and to a greater distance than any that I have

hitherto made.... And I trust that the same good Providence which has

attended me hitherto, and made me happy in my present situation, and

all my former ones, will attend and bless me in which may still be

before me. In all events the will of God be done.

"I cannot refrain from repeating again that I leave my native country

with real regret, never expecting to find anywhere else society so

suited to my disposition and habits, such friends as I have here

(whose attachment has been more than a balance to all the abuse I have

met with from others), and especially to replace one particular

Christian friend, in whose absence I shall, for some time at least,

find all the world a blank. Still less can I expect to resume my

favourite pursuits with anything like the advantages I enjoy here. In

leaving this country I also abandon a source of maintenance which I

can but ill bear to lose. I can, however, truly say that I leave it

without any resentment or ill-will. On the contrary, I sincerely wish

my countrymen all happiness; and when the time for reflection (which

my absence may accelerate) shall come they will, I am confident, do me

more justice. They will be convinced that every suspicion they have

been led to entertain to my disadvantage has been ill founded, and

that I have even some claim to their gratitude and esteem. In this

case I shall look with satisfaction to the time when, if my life be

prolonged, I may visit my friends in this country; and perhaps I may,

notwithstanding my removal for the present, find a grave (as I believe

is naturally the wish of every man) in the land that gave me birth."

As the time of his departure drew near his friends vied with each other

in their expressions of esteem and affection and many evidences of their

regret were offered to him. Among these was a silver inkstand from some

of his admirers in the University of Cambridge, on which was an

inscription of their sorrow "that this expression of their esteem should

be occasioned by the ingratitude of their country."

On April 8, 1794, Priestley and his wife set sail from London, and

arrived at New York on June 4.

On the way out he wrote some _Observations on the Cause of the Present

Prevalence of Infidelity_, which he prefixed to a new edition of his

_Letters to the Philosophers and Politicians of France_.

Alas! one of the most distinguished of those philosophers and

politicians was even then no more. Coffinhal had pronounced his

judgment, declaring "the Republic has no need of men of science," and

whilst Priestley was on the high seas his great protagonist, Lavoisier,

more unfortunate even than he, met his death on the scaffold.

"Such was the treatment bestowed upon the best of their citizens by

two nations which considered themselves as without exception the most

civilised and enlightened in the world!"

Priestley was well received in New York, many people meeting him on

landing, and he was presented with addresses of welcome from various

societies. After a stay of about a fortnight he proceeded to

Philadelphia and received an address from the American Philosophical

Society, and by a unanimous vote of the trustees was offered the

Professorship of Chemistry in the University of Philadelphia.

In the following July, in order to escape from the heat of the city, he

moved to Northumberland, a town about a hundred and thirty miles

north-west of Philadelphia and situated at the confluence of the

north-east and west branches of the Susquehanna, near to which place his

eldest son, together with certain other persons, mainly Englishmen,

projected a settlement. Priestley himself had no pecuniary interest, as

has been stated, in the undertaking, and he was not consulted in its

formation, nor had he even decided to join it if carried into effect. We

learn from his son's account that the scheme of settlement was not to be

confined to any particular class or character of men, religious or

political. It was set on foot to be, as it were, a rallying point for

the English, who were at that period emigrating to America in great

numbers, and who, it was thought, would be more happy in society of the

kind they had been accustomed to than they would be if dispersed through

the whole of the States.

Owing to disagreements among the projectors, the scheme of the

settlement fell through. Priestley, however, who was charmed with the

beauty of its situation and the nature of its surroundings, determined

to settle at Northumberland. Although at that time remote from any

considerable town it was obviously destined to become a great

thoroughfare. It was apparently healthy and less enervating, at least in

summer time, than Philadelphia. Living was cheaper there than in that

city, and he would be more free from care and more at liberty to follow

his own pursuits than if burdened with the responsibilities of teaching.

Lastly, his poor wife, who had never recovered from the shock of the

Birmingham riots, needed rest and quiet. On these grounds, therefore, he

decided to decline the offer of the Professorship at Philadelphia, as

well as an invitation to take charge of an Unitarian congregation at New

York, and to spend his remaining days in peace and retirement on the

beautiful spot he had chosen. The year before his death he was offered

the principalship of the University of Pennsylvania in succession to Dr

Euen, but this office also he declined.

On his first settling at Northumberland in 1795 he was mainly occupied

with his theological and metaphysical studies. During this year he

published the work which had occupied him during his voyage from

England, his _Fast and Farewell Sermons_, some tracts in defence of

Unitarianism, and the third part of his _Letters to a Philosophical

Unbeliever_, in answer to Paine's _Age of Reason_, and he continued his

_Church History from the Fall of the Western Empire to the Reformation_.

In the house he had first occupied, which was barely sufficient in size

to contain the family, he had little opportunity or convenience for

doing experimental work.

Still, he made some observations on the analysis of air, and continued

his inquiries on the generation of air from water.

Having determined to make Northumberland his home, he proceeded to build

a house more suitable to his needs and pursuits, and, as his letters of

the period show, its planning and arrangement gave him much thought and

greatly interested him.

The house, which still exists, is similar in character to many

middle-class American houses built in the country, a plain substantial

erection, covered with match-boarding and fitted with jalousies, and to

the front a loggia or verandah. The laboratory is a small building to

the side, partially shaded by a large, wide-spreading tree.

In the autumn of this year he lost his youngest son, Henry, a bright and

intelligent youth, of whom he was remarkably fond. This loss greatly

affected him, for he had hopes that the young man would follow him in

his theological and philosophical pursuits, to which he had shown an

inclination. The death of his son was even more profoundly felt by his

wife, whose health and spirits now began rapidly to decline, and she too

passed away a few months later.

"Through life," says her son, "she had been truly a helpmeet for him;

supporting him under all his trials and sufferings with a constancy

and perseverance truly praiseworthy, and who, as he himself, in noting

the event in his diary, justly observes, 'was of a noble and generous

mind, and cared much for others and little for herself through life.'"

At about this period he preached and printed another of his defences of

Unitarianism and completed his _Church History_, and began the

compilation of his last treatise in defence of phlogiston.

He spent the spring of 1796 in Philadelphia, where he delivered a series

of lectures on the evidences of revelation to crowded audiences,

including most of the members of the United States Congress, at that

time sitting in Philadelphia, and of the executive officers of the

Government. He delivered a second series on the same subject in the

spring of the following year, but with less success, partly owing, his

son imagines, to the novelty of the thing having passed away, and partly

from prejudices that began to be excited against him on account of his

supposed political principles. In reality Priestley took even less

interest in the politics of America than he had done in those of his own

country. He seldom read the debates in Congress, and beyond Adams and

Jefferson he knew few of the leading politicians. He never attended a

political meeting or took part directly or indirectly in an election,

and excepting an article in a newspaper called "Aurora," or "Maxims of

Political Arithmetic," and signed "A Quaker in Politics," he wrote

nothing on the subject of politics. At that period political feeling ran

high and politics were the one subject of conversation, and to some

extent, therefore, he could not escape their discussion, but it was

noticed that he always argued on the side of liberty. As regards British

politics his speculations went no further than a reform in Parliament,

such as that which was accomplished less than thirty years after his

death. He had no desire to see changed the constitution of the kingdom

as vested in King, Lords and Commons.

"He used frequently to say," says his son, "and it was said of him,

that though he was an Unitarian in religion he was in that country a

Trinitarian in politics. When he came to America he found reason to

change his opinions, and he became a decided friend to the general

principles and practice of a completely representative Government,

founded upon universal suffrage, and excluding hereditary privileges,

as it exists in this country. This change was naturally produced by

observing the ease and happiness with which the people lived, and the

unexampled prosperity of the country."

But in his feelings he was still an Englishman. He never was

naturalised, saying that as he had been born and had lived an Englishman

he would die one, let what might be the consequence.

Towards the end of 1797 his new library and laboratory were finished,

his books once more arranged and much of his old apparatus installed. He

found workmen in Northumberland who could repair his instruments and

make such new ones as he wanted. He was thus able to resume the kind of

life he led at Birmingham, spending much of the day in the laboratory or

alternately in his study, sometimes engaged on experimental philosophy,

at other times in the composition of the theological works which seemed

to flow in an unending stream from his pen. He delighted to walk in his

garden and to view the beautiful prospect it afforded him of the river

and the distant landscape. He had, too, a kindly interest in the whole

community, and noted with pleasure the many little improvements going

forward in and about the town. There was no apparent abatement in the

vigour of his mind or in the keenness and enthusiasm with which he

followed the extraordinary expansion of the science he loved so well

during the opening years of the nineteenth century. In a letter to

Humphry Davy, then at the outset of his brilliant career, he says:--

"It gives me peculiar satisfaction that, as I am far advanced in life

and cannot expect to do much more, I shall leave so able a

fellow-labourer of my own country in the great fields of experimental

philosophy.... I rejoice that you are so young a man; and perceiving

the ardour with which you begin your career I have no doubts of your

success."

The following letter to his old friend Mrs Barbauld, with whom he kept

up a correspondence to the last, gives some account of his condition at

this time:--

"Dear Madam,--This will, I hope, be delivered, as it will be conveyed

by my son. How happy should I think myself to wait on you and Mr

Barbauld in person. Should there be a _peace_, I do promise myself

that pleasure, but at present this great blessing seems to be at a

great distance. How many melancholy changes have taken place since I

left England, and among these is the death of Dr Enfield, a man at

least ten years younger than me, and to appearance more healthy. I am

also much alarmed at the accounts I receive of your brother [Dr John

Aiken], whom I left in perfect health, but the last were rather more

favourable. His life is of great value, both to his relatives,

acquaintances and the world at large, few men having been more

usefully employed. I am willing to hope he is yet reserved for more

usefulness.

"When I compare the perturbed state of Europe with the quiet of this

place I wish all my friends were here, provided they could find

sufficient employment to be happy; but if they be like myself they

must be content to be idle, except so far as they can make themselves

employment in their closets. My library and laboratory sufficiently

occupy me, and of common society I have as much as I want. A few more

_rational Christians_ to form a society would make this place a

paradise to me, and this would be wanting in many parts of England.

"It is a pleasure to be in a place that is continually and visibly

improving, and this is the case here to an astonishing degree. In

every year we find a very sensible difference, and in all probability

improvements of all kind will go on more rapidly than ever. Nature has

done everything that can be done for any place. Perhaps you have seen

the views of it taken by Miss Daich. They are not by any means too

flattering.

"Could I have my daughter here I should be happy indeed. But this, I

fear, is not likely to be accomplished, owing to the strange obstinacy

and prejudice of Mr Finch. Her trials must be very great, but she is

naturally cheerful, and has a strong sense of _religion_, which, I

hope, will support her. This, sufficiently impressed, will make us

equal to everything. Your kindness to her affects me much. _A friend

in need is a friend indeed._ Something will, I hope, be done for her

before my son returns, but what it can be I do not know. Her uncle has

some proposal to make to my son in her favour, but the obstinacy of Mr

Finch may defeat everything.

"You have obliged me very much by the exquisite little poem you sent

me. I hope you will add to the obligation by the communication of the

fragment on the 'Game of Chess,' or any other little piece you may

think proper to send me. You had no copy of your first poem to my

wife, or I should value _that_ above any other, and also the little

poem you wrote on the birth of Joseph.

"I shall always be very happy to hear from you; and, with my best

respects to Mr Barbauld, I am, dear Madam, yours sincerely,

J. Priestley.

"Northumberland, _Dec. 23, 1798_.

"Mrs Barbauld, Hampstead,

near London."

His son has given us a faithful picture of his closing years and of the

serenity of the evening of his life.

"For the last four years of his life he lived under an administration,

the principles and practice of which he perfectly approved, and with

Mr Jefferson, the head of that administration, he frequently

corresponded, and they had for each other a mutual regard and esteem.

He enjoyed the esteem of the wisest and best men in the country,

particularly at Philadelphia, where his religion and his politics did

not prevent his being kindly and cheerfully received by great numbers

of opposite opinions in both, who thus paid homage to his knowledge

and virtue."

In 1800 he put together his last scientific work, and the one which he

regarded as the crown of all his efforts, _viz._, his _Doctrine of

Phlogiston Established_. It can never be said of Priestley that he was

to one thing constant never: versatile as he was, and with an

extraordinary capacity for adaptation and change in matters of

philosophy and theological doctrine, he was ever constant to phlogiston.

During the spring of 1801, whilst on a visit to Philadelphia, he had an

attack of fever from which he never wholly recovered. It left him

predisposed to the fever and ague at that time prevalent at

Northumberland and he had a succession of attacks which weakened him

greatly. Nevertheless, his spirits were uniformly good and his

complacency and cheerfulness of manner never left him; and although he

was incapable of taking much physical exercise and had to give up

working in his garden, he spent a considerable amount of time in his

laboratory, experimenting with all the enthusiasm and eagerness of his

most active period with the newly-discovered pile of Volta, and sending

his results to _Nicholson's Journal_.

In 1802 he was enabled to send his _Church History_ to press, owing to

the action of his friends in England, who, unknown to him, had set a

subscription on foot sufficient to cover the expense of publication.

Although he was obviously failing in strength, owing to gastric

troubles, he continued to work on either in his study or in his

laboratory. He sent a couple of papers to the American Philosophical

Society on scientific subjects, and he published an essay on _Jesus and

Socrates Compared_. In the November of 1803 it was evident that his end

was approaching. Still he struggled on, hoping by careful attention to

his diet he might still see the spring. He told the physician who

attended him that if he could but patch him up for six months longer he

should be perfectly satisfied, as he should in that time be able to

complete the printing of his works. So precarious did he consider his

life that he took the precaution of transcribing one day in longhand

what he had composed the day before in shorthand, that he might by that

means leave the work complete as far as it went should he not live to

finish the whole.

With the beginning of 1804 his weakness had greatly increased. In his

diary for January 31 he notes:--"Ill all day--not able to speak for

nearly three hours." Still he rose, dressed and shaved himself (which he

never omitted doing every morning till within two days of his death),

went to his laboratory and lit his fire, but found his weakness so great

that he was obliged to get back to his study. During the next and

following days he was better, and was able to see to the correction of

his proof-sheets, but on February 4 he took to his bed, although he was

able to read and look over a sheet of proof and to check the Greek and

Hebrew quotations.

"In the course of the day," says his son, "he expressed his gratitude

in being permitted to die quietly in his family, without pain, with

every convenience and comfort he could wish for. He dwelt upon the

peculiarly happy situation in which it had pleased the Divine Being to

place him in life, and the great advantage he had enjoyed in the

acquaintance and friendship of some of the best and wisest men in the

age in which he lived, and the satisfaction he derived from having led

a useful as well as a happy life."

In the evening he had his grandchildren brought to his bedside, saying

it gave him great pleasure to see the little things kneel. After prayers

they wished him a good-night and he gave each his blessing, exhorting

them all to continue to love each other.

"And you, little thing," speaking to the youngest, "remember the hymn

you learned: 'Birds in their little nests agree.' I am going to sleep

as well as you; for death is only a good long sleep in the grave, and

we shall meet again."

He lingered through the night, and in the early morning requested his

son to take down some additions and alterations he wished inserted in

his proofs, dictating as clearly and distinctly as he had ever done in

his life. When these were read to him he said, "That is right; I have

now done." Shortly afterwards he put his hand to his face and breathed

his last so easy that those who were sitting close to him hardly

perceived he had passed away.

What was mortal of him now rests in a little hill-side cemetery

overlooking the beautiful river. The spot is marked with a simple

headstone on which is engraven--

To

the memory of the

Revd. Dr JOSEPH PRIESTLEY,

who departed this life

on the 6th Feby. 1804.

Anno. Ætatis LXXI.

"Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the

Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.

I will lay me down in peace and sleep till

I awake in the morning of the resurrection."

Joseph Priestley · 第 10 / 12 章