gnation had the doctor chosen so to relieve himself. 'On occasion
of the celebration of the anniversary of the French revolution, on
July 14, 1791, by several of my friends, but with which I had little
to do, a mob, encouraged by some persons in power, first burned the
meeting-house in which I preached, then another meeting-house in the
town, and then my dwelling-house, demolishing my library, apparatus,
and as far as they could everything belonging to me.... Being in some
personal danger on this occasion I went to London.'

A much livelier account from Priestley's own hand and written the next
day after the riot is found in a letter to Theophilus Lindsay. 'The
company were hardly gone from the inn before a drunken mob rushed into
the house and broke all the windows. They then set fire to our
meeting-house and it is burned to the ground. After that they gutted,
and some say burned the old meeting. In the mean time some friends
came to tell me that I and my house were threatened, and another
brought a chaise to convey me and my wife away. I had not presence of
mind to take even my MSS.; and after we were gone the mob came and
demolished everything, household goods, library, and apparatus.' The
letter differs from the Memoir in saying that 'happily no fire could
be got.' Priestley afterwards heard that 'much pains was taken, but
without effect, to get fire from my large electrical machine which
stood in the Library.'

It is rather a curious fact that Priestley was not at the inn where
the anniversary was celebrating. While the company there were chanting
the praises of liberty he was at home playing backgammon with his
wife, a remarkably innocent and untreasonable occupation. Mr. Arthur
Young visited the scene of the riot a few days later and had thoughts
upon it. 'Seeing, as I passed, a house in ruins, on inquiry I found
that it was Dr. Priestley's. I alighted from my horse, and walked over
the ruins of that laboratory which I had left home with the
expectation of reaping instruction in; of that laboratory, the labours
of which have not only illuminated mankind but enlarged the sphere of
science itself; which has carried its master's fame to the remotest
corner of the civilized world; and will now with equal celerity convey
the infamy of its destruction to the disgrace of the age and the
scandal of the British name.' It is not necessary to supplement Arthur
Young's burst of indignation with private bursts of our own. We