enjoys working out problems in figures; the poet loves to indulge his fancy and clothe his imaginations in the guise of poetry; and the metaphysician is happiest when employed in the task of definition and reasoning. Drew's capacity, and therefore his taste, lay in the direction of metaphysics, and it is curious to notice how the future logician and theologian manages to make his most ungenial and untoward circumstances as a shoemaker in an obscure country town serve his purpose and help him forward to the accomplishment of his life-destiny. All this was partly the result of natural gifts and partly the fruit of strenuous application and toil. Men who have done notable things in the world have been spoken of as belonging to two classes. There is the man who "seems to have what is best in him as a possession;" and the man who "seems to show that what is regarded as an inspiration may come as the result of labor."[33] This is but another method of stating the old distinction between "genius and talent." If Samuel Drew must be classified at all, we should certainly place him in the former category. What was _best_ in him was indeed a possession, not an acquirement. Yet, like all men of mark, he owed much to close study and hard work. Without these his fine natural gifts would have been useless. [33] _Athenæum_, No. 2770, Nov. 27, 1880, p. 719. Drew's master at St. Austell combined the three somewhat kindred businesses of saddler, shoemaker, and bookbinder. His shop was also a regular meeting-place for the gossipers of the town; and as St. Austell was then in a ferment of religious excitement, most of the talk ran on religious topics. The Calvinist and Arminian divided the field between them, and in their contests, sometimes as arbiters, and sometimes as the champion of a party, Drew was often called in to contribute to the discussion. Here he found the first arena for the exhibition of his natural powers as a debater, and gained for himself no small renown.