The Sun.
London, England, 1837-09-01 00:00:00

FRASER'S MAGAZINE,

Eschewing Fraser's politics—which, if possible,
are more rabidly ultra Tory than they ever were—
we - have nothing to find fault with, but, on the
contrary, ample scope for commendation in the
varied contents of the Number before us. " The
Tableaux of the Taverns" would of itself put
us in good humour for a month. The adventure
of Reeve and the Cornish Miner at the " Wrekin" is
capitally told. To appreciate the following extract as
it deserves, it is important that the reader should
know that a rich Miner in Cornwall having oc-
casion to wait upon Mr. Canning, when Prime
Minister, on some matter connected with the
working of mines in his native district, was favoured
on setting out for the capital with -a letttr of introduc-
tion to John Reeve, the Comedian. Oa arriving
in London, the miner's first business was to
find out Reeve, who, after performing at the
Adelphi, acccompanied his new acquaintance to
half the taverns in town, when, being rather obfus-
cated, they adjourned to finish the night at the
" Wrekin," in Broad-court, Bow-street. The. up-
shot will be gathered from what follows :
The time had now arrived when the miner might, with
:mire propriety, look for a little information at the hands of
John. "• Who arc they all r was his first comprehensive
qu scion._

" Can I trust you ?" muttered John.
" Trust me! flow ? Why ? What do you mean ?"
" Mean! Why, I mean if you tell it's—all Dickey—
yes, you may look—all Dickey."
" What do you mean by Dickey ?"
" Why, if I tell you, and you tell anybody elsp, and
Anybody else tells anybody that you told them, we shall be
all scragged."
Scragged ?" asked the miner, with not the faintest
perception of what scragged meant.

Aye, scragged !" echoed John ; " hung by the neck
with the legs downwards. Pleasant, eh !—you may look.'
The minor put but little faith in the alternative, and de,
Glared that his first question might be safely answered.

" Well, if you think so," said Jack, " listen!" and lifting
his glass to his lips, he finished his " go" of brandy and
water.

Reeve now continued in an under tone, a little inflated
with pomposit3. He was, in fact, making a speech. " Well,
Sir, after the cares of business—you may look—it befits
great men—you may look, but I say great men—to relax
from their arduous and anxious toils in the society of a few
kindred spirits. Waiter, some more brandy—you may
look—yes, kindred spirits. Now—draw your ear closer—
you won't peach, ell ?"
" Peach ?" said the miner.
" Yes, you may look ; but if you peach, it will be a
neck-train."
And the miner did look, for he was at a nonplus as.to
apprehension.

" I mean tell, you know—tell, tell."
Oh, I -won't tell," said the miner.
Well, then, what was I saying? Let me see—yes—
great men—kindred spirits—ah, I know—draw your ear
closer—well, great men—aye, the greatest men in England
—come here—after the toils of office—and—and—
But Jack feigned to be too big with his subject for utte-
rance, and merely took another swallow of his " cold
without."
" And—and what ?" anxiously inquired Mt. Deepore,
with a suspenseful gaze.
" What—ab, you may look," resumed Jack ; " hut—
well, then, there are four Cabinet Ministers, and three
Members of Parliament, in the room now r
" The devil there be !" said the miner.
" Yes," said Jack, " you may look !" and his friend libe-
rally availed himself of the permission.
" Then, who's that ?" he asked, singling out one of the

guests.
" That--Mr. Ilume."
" You doant say so! And who's that?"
" That's Huskissou."
" Be it really ! And the gentleman' with the bald held a
top o' the table ?"
" That's Canning."
" What, prime minister Canning gasped the miner.
" Yes, prime minister Canning ! You may look."
Mr. Deepore was for a moment filled with amazement ;
but speedily, with the acute perception and peculiar shrewd-
ness of his countrymen, he bethought himself of turning
the incident to instant account. He remembered that his
sole business in London was, if he could so manage it, to
be with Mr. Canning on the subject of those mines of
which he was captain and chief ; and be justly appreciated
the value of the coincidence which had brought him into
free, unrestrained convivial collision with the great man
himself on the very evening of his arrival. At once he
communicated to his friend, John Reeve, his intention of
taking advantage of the prime minister's good-natured move-
ments to press his suit ; and that worthy having passed
round the hint to a company, none of whom were evtr slow
in taking one, the miner began to exp!ore, and commenced
his first excavation into his subject.
He approached Mr. Canning (or rather the intaigent;
bald-headed reporter, who was on that occasion his proto-
type) with a Cornish bow, he begged him a thousand ctn•
Wish pardons, and " Could he
rthe ntiuister aa(kii‘
Deepore had to ssy
secrets from the
ii lends tloluYn °hti—m ; sane
he might say :.loud, without fear end without reserve.
So out spoke the Mitiopt He broached his plans—he
presentfA ; 1 1
twOg°4-,,,e1e eloquently pressed its prayer-
-1111 %Y enPuraged by some lucid observatic,:is from Hus-
AlsOrl-1 and h is first damper was from Mr. Hume, on the
ground el ease. One or two of the members present
spoke to the question. But on John Reeve's remindirg
tlum of his presence, by shouting, " Cut it, Canning—

you may look!" the proxy prime minister brought the m. t-
ter to a close.

" Mr. Deepore, when I first gav2 you perm'ssien to
speak, I was not aware that you wished to address me
upon a matter of business. As my friend Reeve says, you
may look! But the fact is, we come here to cseap from
business altogether, and to have a little pleasure. Ic tt
not, therefore, consent to any usurpation of cony:6 ility
here ; you must drop the subject. You shall not, ho vever,
be forgotten. You have been introduced to me und th;
most favourable auspices, by a gentleman remarkable for
gravity, sobriety, and judgment, in the selection of bi's
friends. I will give you a card. Here ; I have w•itt
upon it, Admit the bearer instantly.—G. C.' Call upan
me at two o'c!ock to-morrow in Downing-street, and .1 the
clerks make any ceremony in admitting you, show them
this. Tell them it was given you last Light by Mr. Can-
ning at the Wrekin in Broad-court, and you'll be us scrod
in directly. But don't show the card unless you find ant
cessity. And now, gentlemen, as two of our lamps are out,
and the other is upon its last legs, I beg to knock Mr.
Reeve down for a song." There was a shout of approval.
It has since been supposed that Reeve was inebriated ;
for he exclaimed, " Well, as you've knocked me down, I'll
put, your last lamp out. You may look—but hear."

" The Last Rose of Summer.
It's the last lamp on t)he table,
Left blazir.g alone ;
All its oily kimpaniops
Is burnt out and gote.
I'll rot leave thee, th 6 lone one,
To go out in smoke ;
Since the rest arc in darkness,
Why, you shall be broke."
Wherewith Jack finished his " cold without," and aimed
its empty tumbler with sufficient accuracy to smash the
,amp, douic the glimmer, and break up the cornpz ny.

Even amid all the dilemmas of drunkenness, and although
he went to bed with his feet on his pillow and hi. head to
the pons, and put his candle out with his nizhtci-p instead
of an extinguisher, Mr. Diepore did not forget his appoint-
ment with the prime minister, and two o'clock the next day
found him punctually at Downing-street. Mr. Canning was
denied, and Mr. Deepore's Cornish blood was up: 'He was
on the eve of calling the chief clerk a liar, when he thought
of his card. " There," said he, pulling it triumphantly from
his pocket, " there, read that : Admit the bearer in-
stantly.—G. C.' Now, then. I got, that from Mr. Can-
ning last. night, when we were all drinking together at the
Wrekin in Broad Court, Bow-street. There, Will you let
me in nor?"

It was in vain that the clerk, who now doubted the mi-
ner's sanity, assured hint that Mr. Canning' was with the
King et Windsor. Mr. Deepore would not believe, and he
remained in an agitated and somewhat uproarious state of
non-coneiction, until it was found necessary to have him
forcibly exi oiled into the streets of Westminster. Sensibly
alive to his degradation,. he felt himself an injured man._ Hie
Cornish blood,' in his indignation, had now .set fire to his
cheeks, and his heart almost burned a hole in his waistcoat.
He put himself upon a coach for the place of his nativity,
and on arriv.ng there assured his friends :and relations that
the prime minister of England was a blackguard, who
could make an appointment with an honest man in his cups
over night, and have him kicked down stairs the next morn-
ing, which is the impression respecting George Canning in
that part .of Cornwall up to this day.

The "Oiland ScrQeant" is an affecting tale, but
the idea has long since been worn threadbare. " Blue
Friar Pleasantries" is pleasant enough in its way, but
the conceptions are for the most part either hacknied
or common-place.