HARRY, a man distinguished by both poetry and music, but perhaps more so by a certain facetiousness, which made him agreeable to every body. He published in 1720 a little collection of poems; and in 1732, six cantatas, written and composed by himself. He also composed sundry songs for modern comedies, particularly those in the "Provoked Husband;" he wrote a farce called "The Contrivances," in which were several little songs to very pretty airs of his own composition; he also made two or three little dramas for Goodman's-fields theatre, which were very favourably received. In 1729, he published by subscription his poems much enlarged: with the addition of one entitled "Namby Pamby," in which Ambrose Philips is ridiculed. Carey's talent, says his historian, lay in humour and unamiable satire: to ridicule the rant and bombast of modern tragedies he wrote one, to which he gave the strange title of "Chrononhotonthologos;" acted in 1734. He also wrote a farce called "The Honest Yorkshireman." Carey was a thorough Englishman, and had an unsurmountable aversion to the Italian opera and the fingers in it; he wrote a burlesque opera on the subject of the "Dragon of Wantley;" and afterwards a sequel to it, entitled, "The Dragonets;" both which were esteemed a true burlesque upon the Italian opera. His qualities being of the entertaining kind, he was led into more expenses than his finances could bear, and thus was frequently in distress. His friends, however, were always ready to assist him by their little subscriptions to his works: and encouraged by these, he republished, in 1740, all the songs he had ever composed, in a collection, entitled, "The Musical Century, in 100 English Ballads, &c." and, in 1743, his dramatic works, in a small volume, 4to. With all his mirth and good humour, he seems to have been at times deeply affected with the malevolence of some of his own profession, who, for reasons that no one can guess at, were were his enemies; and this, with the pressure of his circumstances, is supposed to have occasioned his untimely end; for, about 1744, in a fit of desperation, he laid violent hands on himself, and, at his house in Warner-street, Cold-Bath Fields, put a period to a life, which, says Sir John Hawkins, had been led without reproach. It is to be noted, and it is somewhat singular in such a character, that in all his songs and poems on wine, love, and such kind of subjects, he seems to have manifested an inviolable regard for decency and good manners.