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.