nown. Nevertheless the narrative is charming, and the
reasons of its charm are in part these:--

In the first place the book belongs to that department of literature
known as autobiography. Autobiography has peculiar virtues. The
poorest of it is not without some flavor of life, and at its best it
is transcendent. A notable value lies in its power to stimulate. This
power is very marked in Priestley's case, where the self-delineated
portrait is of a man who met and overcame enormous difficulties. He
knew poverty and calumny, both brutal things. He had a thorn in the
flesh,--for so he himself characterized that impediment in his speech
which he tried more or less unsuccessfully all his life to cure. He
found his scientific usefulness impaired by religious and political
antagonisms. He tasted the bitterness of mob violence; his house was
sacked, his philosophical instruments destroyed, his manuscripts and
books scattered along the highway. But as he looked back upon these
things he was not moved to impatience. There is a high serenity in his
narrative as becomes a man who has learned to distinguish between the
ephemeral and the permanent elements of life.

Yet it is not impossible that autobiography of this sort has an effect
the reverse of stimulating upon some people. It is pleasanter to read
of heroes than to be a hero oneself. The story of conquest is
inspiring, but the actual process is apt to be tedious. One's nerves
are tuned to a fine energy in reading of Priestley's efforts to
accomplish a given task. 'I spent the latter part of every week with
Mr. Thomas, a Baptist minister, ... who had no liberal 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' This seems easy in the telling,
but in reality it was a long, a monotonous, an exhausting process.
Think of the expenditure of hours and eyesight over barbarous
alphabets and horrid grammatical details. One must needs have had a
mind of leather to endure such philological and linguistic wear and
tear. Priestley's mind not only cheerfully endured it but actually
toughened under it. The man was never afraid of work. Take as an
illustration his experience in keeping school.

He had pronounced objections to this business, and he registered his
protest. But suppose the alternative is to teach school or to starve.
A man will then teach