The literary reputation of the metaphysical shoemaker was now established. Journals and reviews spoke in terms of high praise. Literary men, clergymen, and ministers of various denominations, wrote in congratulatory terms, and proffered friendship and assistance. The best libraries in the locality were placed at his service, and invitations or visits came so thick upon him, that the modest shoemaker was at times fairly bewildered by them. A little book, issued in 1803, the year after Drew's essay appeared, brought his circumstances before the public. It was entitled, "Literature and Literary Characters of Cornwall," and was edited by the above-named Mr. Polwhele. To this book Drew, by request of the editor, sent a short autobiographical sketch. "His lowly origin," says his son, "and humble situation being thus made public, the singular contrast which it presented to his growing literary fame attracted much attention. St. Austell became noted as the birthplace and residence of Mr. Drew, and strangers coming into the county for the gratification of their curiosity did not consider that object accomplished until they had seen 'the metaphysical shoemaker.'" Referring to those flattering attentions, he once shrewdly observed: "These gentlemen certainly honor me by their visits; but I do not forget that many of them merely wish to say that they have seen the cobbler who wrote a book." The following picture of the literary shoemaker during this period of his life must not be omitted here, for it gives us a glimpse of his method of working at this time when employed on his double task of making _boots_ and _books_. It recalls the sketch given in the life of Bloomfield, much of whose poetry was composed under similar conditions. Indeed, it were hard to say who had the worst of it, the poet in the crowded garret or the theologian in the noisy kitchen. The first paragraph is written by Samuel Drew himself, and the second by his son.