ing for its object to examine and reply to whatever had been written against Unitarianism during the preceding year. So much activity and perseverance on his part tended to excite the severe displeasure of his theological opponents, especially of those who were connected with the established church; and he was attacked and answered in the most virulent style of party denunciation. Dr. Horsley especially, and two clergymen of Birmingham, Mr. Madan and Mr. Burn*, gained a sad preeminence by the abusiveness of their manner, and did their full share toward exasperating the public mind, and bringing on the catastrophe which followed.

The state of the times was peculiar, full of causes of convulsion and peril. The French Revolution was breaking out, and the whole English community was agitated by sympathy and alarm. Priestley, with his friends, took side with those who saw every thing to hope from this political movement, and thus made himself obnoxious to the party in power, who saw every thing to fear and abhor. At the same time the Dissenters were strenuously exerting themselves to extort from Parliament an acknowledgment of their rights and a restoration to perfect religious liberty; and here, too, Priestley made himself obnoxious to those in power, who saw nothing in the acknowledgment of these claims, but the ruin of the church and the overthrow of Christianity. Upon these subjects Priestley published very little; but that little attracted great attention from the eminence of the man, and was offensive from the plain and unguarded style of remark which

*At a public meeting in 1825, Mr. Burn took occasion to recur to his share in these controversies. He said, "that had he to live his past life over again, he should have to correct the asperity of feelings and expressions which it was his misfortune to have used in his controversies with a late respectable and highly talented individual (Dr. P.) Whatever degree of error there might have been in that procedure, he begged to say that it did not arise from any disrespect to that highly respected individual, but from what he then considered to be his duty."

was characteristic of him.
and commented on in the
taken to convince the people everywhere that he, with other
Dissenters, was engaged in a plot for the destruction of the
church and the establishment of republican government. It
consequently became a favorite toast of the day, "Damnation
and confusion to the Presbyterians." To fan the flame yet
more, falsehoods of the most atrocious character respecting
him were published and circulated, and caricature prints
were scattered abroad to help persuade the multitude that he
was an atheist. One of these was entitled, Sedition and Athe-
ism defeated. Silas Deane is represented on his death-bed.
A clergyman stands by him, holding up his hands and ex-
claiming, "No God! who taught you that doctrine?" The
dying man replies, "Dr. Priestley." A note is annexed to
the print, saying, "The particulars of this awful and inter-
esting conversion to atheism may be seen in a pamphlet en-
titled Theodosius, and sold with or without the print." This
pamphlet was industriously circulated, and Dr. Priestley was
obliged to publish a formal refutation of the unprincipled
slander.

Passages were unfairly quoted
House of Commons, and pains

In a ballad written and sung against the Dissenters at this time, was the following stanza.

66

"Sedition is their creed;

Feigned sheep, but wolves indeed,
How can we trust?

Gunpowder Priestley would

Deluge the throne with blood,

And lay the great and good

Low in the dust."

"Dr. Priestley," said one of the pamphlets printed at this time, seems a chaos in miniature, not worth God's notice, has neither belief nor understanding given him. For a

careful analysis proves his spirit of the order of rebelling angels, his principles frothy and fiery, like fixed and inflammable air, mixed with gunpowder, his body a terra damnata,

and the whole compound a devil incarnate." The clergy lent themselves eagerly to this work. It was continually sounded from their pulpits in Birmingham and in other places, that he was a declared enemy to revelation and a setter up of reason in its stead; that he had publicly said, he would never rest till he had pulled down that impostor Jesus Christ; and a preacher in Bristol even reported from the pulpit, that he had said he would rather be damned than be saved by Jesus Christ. By such means was the public mind poisoned and inflamed. The passions of the vulgar were worked up to the proper pitch. On the walls of the houses, along the streets, were written in large characters, Madan for ever, damn Priestley, no Presbyterians, damn the Presbyterians; and even the boys, leaving their play as he passed by, once followed him shouting Damn Priestley, damn him, damn him, for ever, for ever, for ever. It had thus become evident that only a fit occasion was wanting, and the populace would be found prepared for any act of violence that might be desired at their hands. Such an occasion arose.

It was proposed by the friends of the French Revolution in Birmingham to celebrate that great event by a public dinner, on the 14th of July, 1791. This was the occasion seized upon for unchaining the fury of the party mob. It was understood and spoken of in London beforehand. A clergyman at Worcester said "it was brewing," the day before it happened. When the day came, between eighty and ninety gentlemen dined, as they had proposed, at the hotel.

"When the company met," says Dr. Priestley, in his own account, a crowd was assembled at the door, and some of them hissed, and showed other marks of disapprobation, but no material violence was offered to any body. Mr. Keir, a member of the church of England, took the chair; and when they had dined, drank the toasts, and sung the songs which had been prepared for the occasion, they dispersed. This was about five o'clock, and the town remained quiet till about eight. It was evident, therefore, that the dinner was not the

proper cause of the riot which followed: but that the mischief had been pre-concerted, and that this particular opportunity was laid hold of for the purpose.

Some days before this meeting, a few copies of a printed hand-bill of an inflammatory nature had been found in a public-house in the town, and of this, great use was made to inflame the minds of the people against the Dissenters, to whom, though without any evidence whatever, it was confidently ascribed. The thing itself did not deserve any notice, and paragraphs of as seditious a nature frequently appear in the public newspapers and other publications, and (as would, no doubt, have been the case with this) are neglected and forgotten. But the magistrates of Birmingham, and other known enemies to the Dissenters, were loud in their exclamations against it, though perhaps fabricated for the use that was made of it; and a copy was officiously sent to the secretaries of state, who ordered a strict inquiry to be made after the author, printer, or distributor; and in consequence of this, a reward of a hundred pounds was offered for the discovery of any of them.

In consequence of all this preparation, we were informed that, though the trade of Birmingham had never been more brisk, so that hands could not be found to manufacture the goods that were ordered, many of the public-houses were that day full of people, whose horrid execrations against the Dissenters were heard into the streets; and it has been asserted, that some of the master manufacturers had shut up their work shop, and thereby left their men at full liberty for any mischief.

It has since appeared, that besides the dinner at the hotel, there were also meetings of the opposite party on this 14th of July; some of whom had distributed copies of a letter signed by Dr. Tatham. This seemed to increase the animosity of the lower class of people, with whom the common alehouses were filled. Some of these meetings did not rise from their entertainment so early, or with so much sobriety, as those who

dined at the hotel; and it was at the breaking up of their companies that the riots commenced. Let the impartial, then, judge to which of the dinners the riot that followed is to be ascribed.

Mr. Adam Walker, the ingenious and well-known lecturer in Natural Philosophy, was passing through the town with his wife and family, and dined with me at my own house, for the last time, on that day. Before dinner, I had walked to the town with him, and they left me in the evening. Some time after this, three of my intimate friends, whose houses were situated near the same road, and farther from the town than mine, called upon me to congratulate me, and one another, on the dinner having passed over so well; and after chatting cheerfully some time on the subject, they left me just as it was beginning to be dark.

After supper, when I was preparing to amuse myself, as I sometimes did, with a game of backgammon, we were alarmed by some young men rapping violently at the door; and when they were admitted, they appeared to be almost breathless with running. They said that a great mob had assembled at the hotel, where the company had dined; that after breaking the windows there, they were gone to the New Meeting and were demolishing the pulpit and the pews, and that they threatened me and my house. That they should think of molesting me, I thought so improbable, that I could hardly give any credit to the story. However, imagining that perhaps some of the mob might come to insult me, I was prevailed upon to leave the house, and meant to go to some neighbour's at a greater distance from the town; but having no apprehension for the house itself, or any thing in it, I only went up stairs, and put some papers and other things of value, where I thought that any persons getting into the house would not easily find them. My wife did the same with some things of hers. I then bade the servants keep the doors fastened; if any body should come, to say that I was gone, and if any stones should be thrown at the windows, to keep themselves