Memoirs of Dr. Joseph Priestley

by Joseph Priestley

In the same interval I spent the latter part of every week with Mr. Thomas, a baptist minister now of Bristol but then of Gildersome, a village about four miles from Leeds, who had had no learned education. Him I instructed in Hebrew, and by that means made myself a considerable proficient in that language. At the same time I learned Chaldee and Syriac, and just began to read Arabic. Upon the whole, going to the academy later than is usual, and being thereby better furnished, I was qualified to appear there with greater advantage.

Before I went from home I was very desirous of being admitted a communicant in the congregation which I had always attended, and the old minister, as well as my Aunt, were as desirous of it as myself, but the elders of the Church, who had the government of it, refused me, because, when they interrogated me on the subject of the sin of Adam, I appeared not to be quite orthodox, not thinking that all the human race (supposing them not to have any sin of their own) were liable to the wrath of God, and the pains of hell for ever, on account of that sin only; for such was the question that was put to me. Some time before, having then no doubt of the truth of the doctrine, I well remember being much distressed that I could not feel a proper repentance for the sin of Adam; taking it for granted that without this it could not be forgiven me. Mr. Haggerstone above mentioned, was a little more liberal than the members of the congregation in which I was brought up, being what is called a Baxterian;[1] and his general conversation had a liberal turn, and such as tended to undermine my prejudices. But what contributed to open my eyes still more was the conversation of a Mr. Walker, from Ashton under line, who preached as a candidate when our old minister was superannuated. He was an avowed Baxterian, and being rejected on that account his opinions were much canvassed, and he being a guest at the house of my Aunt, we soon became very intimate, and I thought I saw much of reason in his sentiments. Thinking farther on these subjects, I was, before I went to the academy, an Arminian, but had by no means rejected the doctrine of the trinity, or that of atonement.

[1] BAXTERIANS, The famous Non-conformist Richard Baxter who flourished about the middle of the last Century, attempted a Coalition between the doctrines of Calvin and Arminius. The former of these held that God from the beginning had elected a few of the human race to be saved, without reference to their good actions in this life, and had left the rest of mankind in a state of final and inevitable reprobation. The latter was of opinion that the Christian dispensation furnished the means of final Salvation to all men, though the merits of the death of Christ would be ultimately advantageous to believers only. Baxter, thought with Calvin that some among mankind were from the beginning elected unto eternal life, and gifted from above with the saving grace necessary in the first instance to the several steps of a believer’s christian character; but he thought also with Arminius that all men had common grace imparted to them, sufficient to enable them if they chose, to attain unto final Salvation by using the means ordained by Christ and his Apostles. Calvin also held the final perseverance of the Saints, or as it has since been expressed that a believer might fall foully but not finally, whereas Baxter seems to have thought that not every one who had saving grace imparted to him would persevere to the end, or as the Arminian Methodists quaintly express it, he held that a believer may fall both foully and finally. The compromising doctrine of Baxter may be seen in his very learned and unintelligible work entitled Catholick Theology. He used to be an annual communicant in the Church of England by way of exemplying his accommodating opinions.

T. C.

Though after I saw reason to change my opinions I found myself incommoded by the rigour of the congregation with which I was connected, I shall always acknowledge with great gratitude that I owe much to it. The business of religion was effectually attended to in it. We were all catechized in public ’till we were grown up, servants as well as others: the minister always expounded the scriptures with as much regularity as he preached, and there was hardly a day in the week, in which there was not some meeting of one or other part of the congregation. On one evening there was a meeting of the young men for conversation and prayer. This I constantly attended, praying extempore with others when called upon.

At my Aunt’s there was a monthly meeting of women, who acquitted themselves in prayer as well as any of the men belonging to the congregation. Being at first a child in the family, I was permitted to attend their meetings, and growing up insensibly, heard them after I was capable of judging. My Aunt after the death of her husband, prayed every morning and evening in her family, until I was about seventeen, when that duty devolved upon me.

The Lord’s day was kept with peculiar strictness. No victuals were dressed on that day in any family. No member of it was permitted to walk out for recreation, but the whole of the day was spent at the public meeting, or at home in reading, meditation, and prayer, in the family or the closet.

It was my custom at that time to recollect as much as I could of the sermons I heard, and to commit it to writing. This practice I began very early, and continued it until I was able from the heads of a discourse to supply the rest myself. For not troubling myself to commit to memory much of the amplification, and writing at home almost as much as I had heard, I insensibly acquired a habit of composing with great readiness; and from this practice I believe I have derived great advantage through life; composition seldom employing so much time as would be necessary to write in long hand any thing I have published.

By these means, not being disgusted with these strict forms of religion as many persons of better health and spirits probably might have been (and on which account I am far from recommending the same strictness to others) I acquired in early life a serious turn of mind. Among other things I had at this time a great aversion to Plays and Romances, so that I never read any works of this kind except Robinson Crusoe, until I went to the academy. I well remember seeing my brother Timothy reading a book of Knight Errantry, and with great indignation I snatched it out of his hands, and threw it away. This brother afterwards, when he had for some time followed my father’s business (which was that of a Cloth-dresser) became, if possible, more serious than I had been; and after an imperfect education, took up the profession of a minister among the Independents, in which he now continues.

While I was at the Grammar School I learned Mr. Annet’s Short hand, and thinking I could suggest some improvements in it, I wrote to the Author, and this was the beginning of a correspondence which lasted several years. He was, as I ever perceived, an unbeliever in Christianity and a necessarian. On this subject several letters, written with care on both sides, passed between us, and these Mr. Annet often pressed me to give him leave to publish, but I constantly refused. I had undertaken the defence of Philosophical Liberty, and the correspondence was closed without my being convinced of the fallacy of my arguments, though upon studying the subject regularly, in the course of my academical education afterwards, I became a confirmed Necessarian, and I have through life derived, as I imagine, the greatest advantage from my full persuasion of the truth of that doctrine.