To these pursuits he for some years added those of farming, taking into his own occupation a farm which he possessed, of about three hundred acres, of no very productive soil, about a mile from the place of his residence, more to the advantage of health from exercise, than to the enriching of his pocket by agriculture. Dr. Drury had always some inclination for this amusement; and even during the latter years of his laborious life at Harrow, he had his little farm in Devon to run down to in his vacations, and to grow his own wheat, feed his own sheep, and press his own cider. This had led him into some occasional correspondence with Lord Somerville, and, we believe, with Sir John Sinclair also, in the more palmy days of agriculture; and the former, speaking of him in one of his publications, hints a translation of Columella as a good task for his sixth form, to be revised by the rather rare combination of a scholar and practical agriculturist; a proposal not likely to suit the taste of boys, and for the performance of which, as apart from their studies, the master had certainly no spare time. After he had contracted these occupations into a narrower space, he entered on the duties of a county magistrate, in which he was exceeded by few, in temper, judgment, and discretion; nor did he wholly retire from them until the last five or six years of his life. Within doors, the enjoyment of a well-furnished library, the delight which he took in music, especially when he had any young female visiters, proficients in the art, added to the society of a wife of a most rare and cultivated understanding, effectually excluded all sense of weariness. It was not his custom to go very much into general society: but the southern coast of Devon was so much frequented, especially before the conclusion of the war, by strangers from different parts of the island, that he had often the pleasure of receiving old and valued friends, both pupils and others, at his retreat; and statesmen, lawyers, and divines have carried away very pleasing recollections of the spot. Among his immediate neighbours, some only temporary, others permanent, residents, were several gentlemen of taste and literature. At the houses

of his friend and pupil Sir Thomas Acland, and Mr. Charles Hoare, of Luscombe, near Dawlish, he was enabled to enjoy the society, not only of his well-informed hosts, but also of the many eminent and agreeable visiters who frequented their mansions. He had excellent intellectual neighbours in the late Sir William Watson, a Mr. Swete of Oxton House, and the late Sir George Dallas, who resided for some few years at Dawlish; and few things interested him more of late years than passing an occasional hour with Sir William Grant, the retired Master of the Rolls, who chose his retirement at the same place, at the house of his brother-in-law, the venerable Admiral Schank, and afterwards of his sister, the admiral's widow, where he died. Dr. Drury's own brother-in-law, and predecessor in the Harrow mastership, Dr. Benjamin Heath, also spent the few last years of his life at Dawlish, much to the satisfaction and happiness of his relations; and here, too, at a little marine villa in the immediate neighbourhood, which he had purchased for (what he deemed) the cradle of his old age, although destined to be rocked in it only for one or two short seasons, he entered into terms of great intimacy with the late Colonel Johnes of Hafod, one of the most accomplished of men, and attractive of companions; to whom his son-in-law, Mr. Merivale, who had himself, for some years previously, enjoyed the happiness of the colonel's friendship and correspondence, had the satisfaction of first introducing him.

The Memoir of the celebrated Edmund Kean, the tragedian, which appeared in the last volume of our Annual Biography, contains, we have every reason to believe, every reason to believe, a perfectly correct account of the circumstances which led to Dr. Drury's first becoming acquainted with that great actor, and to his subsequent instrumentality in establishing him on the boards of the chief London theatre; so that much of what it would otherwise have been our duty to state, with reference to those circumstances, it would now be an idle waste of words to repeat. In various other statements which have appeared before the public, we have seen intermixed so much of what

is altogether false and unfounded, that we gladly take this opportunity of cautioning our readers against placing the slightest dependence on any of them. It is undoubtedly the truth, that the earliest notice ever taken by Dr. Drury of the performer-the first time that ever his name, or his existence, was known to him was during the Exeter season of 1810-11, when (as is seen in the Memoir already referred to) Kean was acting on the boards of that city's theatre. That he, about the same time, attracted the notice of Mr. Nationhimself acknowledged by all who knew him to be a most discerning dramatic critic-is also true; as it may be (though of this we are not so sure), that it was Mr. Nation who first introduced him to Dr. Drury's personal acquaintance. However that may be, we are at least certain that the admiration, amounting to a degree of enthusiasm, with which the Doctor was inspired in witnessing his performances, was owing to no previous commendation of others—that his first sight of him on the stage was purely accidental—that his subsequent repetition of visits to the theatre, night after night, till he had beheld him in a very extensive range of characters, was produced by a continually increasing conviction of his vast natural genius and that his mention of him to Mr. Grenfell—a circumstance from which may be dated the whole of his brilliant career of fortune and popularity—was made at a casual meeting with that gentleman (then one of the Committee of Management of Drury-lane Theatre), in the house of a mutual friend, when on a visit of Mr. Grenfell's to Devonshire, in the autumn of 1813. From what has already been recorded of Dr. Drury's peculiar taste and accomplishments, as well as of some of his earliest and most agreeable associations, there is little reason to be surprised at the ardour of his admiration, and the eloquence of those praises which were thus rendered, undoubtedly, the immediate cause of Kean's advancement to the summit of a provincial actor's ambition. But not all the success of his endeavours reflects so much credit on Dr. Drury for the excellent judgment which dictated them, as for the generous and active benevolence which, after

he had once opened a way to the attainment of his object, would not suffer him to relax his efforts, although under circumstances (for a time) of great discouragement, till, he enjoyed the full triumph of their accomplishment. And it is still more highly to his honour, that not even after he had witnessed the realisation of his warmest wishes in the entire dominion which the actor soon acquired over the minds of his audience, did he suffer his zeal to grow cool, or his vigilance to slumber. On the contrary, fully aware, as he was, by his own experience of the world, as well as by his observation of Kean's peculiar character, of the dangers to which his very astonishing career of success must of necessity expose him, it was long before he ceased-and not until too painfully convinced of the utter hopelessness of the task-from the endeavour, by his advice and countenance, to avert the sad shipwreck of fortune and reputation which it was at length his affliction to witness. The patronage of the great and the affluent, which was sure to follow the high tide of his glory, Dr. Drury well knew to be a circumstance likely rather to augment the perils of his situation, than to add solidity to the fabric of his fame; and it was accordingly in the society of some few friends, whose rank and station in life were not so far above his own level as to preclude all hope of the advantages to be derived from familiar and confidential intercourse, that it was for a time the Doctor's favourite object to domesticate his favourite actor. Among these his son-inlaw Mr. Merivale, and his friends Mr. Utterson and Mr. Halls the painter, may be named, as having seconded, by their strongest endeavours, his benevolent intentions, and also as having participated most feelingly in his regret for the failure of their principal object; and when to these names is added that of the noble and learned Lord who now presides in the Court of King's Bench, where he then practised as an advocate-himself no mean or incompetent judge of theatrical excellence, and ever one of Kean's warmest admirers it will be at once felt how great was the obligation of gratitude, which it is only justice to the actor's memory to:

admit that he was never unwilling or slow to acknowledge, though unhappily not gifted with the prudence which could alone have rendered it available.

We now willingly turn from a subject, in many respects so painful, to subjoin a brief notice of some few remaining particulars, which will serve to complete our sketch of the amiable subject of this Memoir.

Music, as we have before observed, was ever a source of great delight to him. His taste was averse to the modern frippery and ornament with which it is so often overlaid. The simple and sublime ever commanded his most willing homage. His own vocal powers were fine, and he rarely passed a day, until extreme old age, without exercising them for an hour or so, accompanying himself, if he happened to be alone, on the piano. It was in sacred music that, when alone, he took the greatest pleasure. His venerable friend Richard Allott, late Dean of Raphoe, celebrated for his taste in this art, was much with him during one summer; and a beautiful sight it was to behold the two fine old men the Dean was a most apostolic figure standing up and singing the Non nobis Domine for grace before they sat down to table. These pursuits at home were varied by occasional absences. For some time after he quitted Harrow, he frequented London at least once in two years, and was sure of a most cordial reception from those who had formed a strong attachment to him in earlier years, and from none more in the metropolis than from his old pupil, Mr. Perceval. In addition to this, too, he much enjoyed the society he met at the house of his sonin-law; consisting, in very great part, of gentlemen of the bar who have since become very eminent; among whom, the conversation of Mr., now Lord Denman, always greatly interested him. The ancient music, too, had great attractions for him, as had the theatre about the time when Mr. Kean had, by his recommendation, been established at Drury Lane, as already mentioned. In the year 1814, he took a tour over the greater part of Ireland; the ultimate object of which was a visit to the hospitable mansion of one of Mrs. Drury's brothers,