SECTION VIII.

DOMESTIC AND SOCIAL RETROSPECT.

THE leading events of Mr. Drew's life have been narrated in nearly chronological order. Other facts, illustrative of his social and religious character, mental peculiarities, intellectual capacity, and literary position, remain to be noticed. To these, a brief description of his personal appearance may be deemed an appropriate introduction.

Slender in form, with a head remarkably small, his stature exceeded the common height. In its repose, his dark, expressive eye indicated a placid disposition, and a mind at ease; but frequently might it be seen, either beaming with gratitude to God and benevolence to man, or lit up with the brilliancy of mental conception. A playful or an arch smile often stole over those features on which the lines of thought were deeply indented. His voice, neither harsh nor melodious, was clear and powerful; producing, by the firmness of its intonations, a conviction that the speaker was no ordinary man. Without exhibiting the polish of gentility, his gait and gesture were not ungraceful; while a general rapidity of motion indicated great

physical activity, and decision of purpose. Aided by the verbal portrait thus roughly sketched, the fancy of the reader who has not seen Mr. Drew will, perhaps, complete the likeness.

"The fixed glance of his eye," a gentleman, intimately acquainted with Mr. Drew in the latter years of his life, remarks, "was particularly searching. When I first became known to him, I used involuntarily to shrink from it. He seemed to be reading the secrets of one's soul; yet it was a glance entirely destitute of fierceness." Another gentleman, to whom he was known about the time of his first becoming an author, observes to him, in a letter dated 1802, "Your restless mind abhors indolence, as men too frequently abhor exertion. From your very make, I am led to calculate upon some future enterprize; and be that what it may, you will not attempt it but on a conviction of your adequacy."

His personal appearance never bespoke an indulgence in the luxuries of life. Though in the enjoyment of almost uninterrupted health, his pale features and meagre appearance excited, soon after his residence in London, the commiseration of some benevolent individual, who, thinking to do him a kindness, sent him a sovereign in a letter, with a request that he would "take a little wine, for his stomach's sake, and his often infirmities." The writer being unknown, the money could not be returned, and was therefore applied as directed.

Whatever change his features might have sustained through advancing age, a circumstance, related by him a few weeks before his decease, shows that, in

their general expression, they must have continued from his early manhood with little alteration. Riding to his office, as he was latterly accustomed, he was asked by a person who sat opposite to him in the vehicle, if he were not called Drew; and on being answered in the affirmative, the gentleman remarked, "You and I, sir, were next-door neighbours at Crafthole." "How long is it, sir, since you lived there?" inquired Mr. Drew. "About fifty years." "And have you not seen me since?" Never, sir, till now," was the answer.

In describing his domestic habits, the reader's attention is chiefly directed to the period subsequent to 1805, the year in which he relinquished trade for literature, and was able to follow a systematic distribution of his time. Previously to this, the frequent and irregular calls of business scarcely permitted the formation, much less the pursuit, of any settled plan.

"Take time by the forelock," was one of his favourite phrases and rules of conduct: the family clock was, therefore, kept a quarter of an hour in advance of the town time. When this clock struck seven, he regularly rose, except in the depth of winter; and, if the weather permitted, walked till eight, the family breakfast hour. Sometimes this walk would be solitary; but usually he was accompanied by his children, and their young companions. To join his morning walk was esteemed a privilege. Even the little ones were eager to be of the party; for the child that was too young to keep pace with the others generally rode upon his father's back or shoulder. In this manner

Mr. Drew's first morning hour was spent, not idly, but in delivering lectures on some topic which he endeavoured to render interesting to his young disciples. Grammar was frequently the subject; at other times, geography; at others, natural science, drawn from any object which might happen to strike his or the children's attention; and sometimes, a rehearsal of poetry. In fine weather, as duly as the clock struck eight, might he be seen returning, with sometimes half-adozen children or more in company; and the appearance of the party was often a signal to the neighbours that the hour of eight had arrived.

From eight to nine was occupied by the morning repast and family devotion. At this, a chapter was read by one of his children; on each of whom, if capable of reading, the duty devolved in succession. Unless the portion of scripture appeared to require explanation, the reading was followed immediately by extemporaneous prayer, in which Mr. Drew manifested the liveliest feeling for the best interests of his dependants, and all whose welfare might at the time occupy his thoughts. He then entered his study, which he never designated by a more classical name than his chamber, and generally continued there, with the interruption only of dinner and tea, until seven o'clock; nor was this room interdicted to his children, while they refrained from noise. On those evenings when he delivered his lectures on grammar, &c., he left his study at an earlier hour.

Independently of his engagements with his pupils, he regarded seven as his hour for "leaving work." A portion of two or three evenings weekly was devoted

to the public duties of religion: his other vacant hours were given to the society of his friends, to conversation with his children, to occasional correspondence, to visiting the sick, or to the reading of such books as did not fall within the course of his ordinary occupation. The only time in which he was wholly released from mental exercise, was the period immediately preceding his retiring to rest. After supper, the family was summoned together for evening devotion. His pipe of tobacco terminated the daily routine.

Though a smoker, he was not addicted to an inordinate use of the narcotic leaf. If the cloudy wreath sometimes curled around his brow, it was not with him, as with Dr. Parr, the atmosphere which he hourly breathed. Two pipes a day, one after dinner and one before bed-time, were the usual limits of his self-indulgence, and these he could easily dispense with where he deemed their introduction would be offensive. The determined hostility of his friend Dr. Adam Clarke to the ordinary use of tobacco he very well knew; and, when at his house, imposed upon himself entire abstinence. On one occasion, the Doctor said to him, after dinner, "Well, friend Drew, do you wish for a pipe?" "Were I in any other place," replied Mr. Drew," I should probably say yes." "Oh!" said the Doctor, "if you desire it, you shall have a pipe now, on the condition of your going outside the back door to smoke: as within my house, no such unseemly practice is allowed." This accommodation was declined. Others, who knew Mr. Drew's predilection, whenever he was to be their guest, always made due provision of the pipe and fragrant weed;'