The Sun. — 1829-09-01 (London, England)

MAGAZINE DAY.  BLACKWOOD S MAGAZINE.  PART I.  There is a double number this month of Old Christopher North's spirited Miscellany, and each is excellent in its kind. In the one ‘ve have a romantic poem by the Ettrick Shepherd, entitled " Elen of Reigh," not altogether unworthy of his well-known fairy tale " Kilmeny," and in the other an imaginative piece of blank verse, modelled on the Lake school, both as regards its style and sentiment, by Professor Wilson, under the name of " An Evening in Furness Abbey." In the present Number the articles are numerous and well-selected ; the only one to which we feel inclined to object, being an analysis of a strange German tragedy ; which however, as a piece of criticism is unimpeachable ; though we must confess we should have preferred to see the writer developing his analytical faculties on some less exhausted topic than German melodrame. " A scene off Bermuda" is a spirited little description of a nautical manoeuvre, by which an English little brig escaped the clutches of a huge uncouth American frigate of the largest class. In ,one or two points of this sketch—for it is but a sketch— we are reminded of the vigorous and graphic powers of the American novelist, Cooper. " My Landlady and her Lodgers," by Mr. Galt, improves upon acquaintance.. The following description of a drunken negro is amusing :  "That same night after the conversation I have just told you of," said Mrs. Winsom, " Jugurtha, the now corrupted creature, came home in the twilight ree with drink, his face shining like a carved mahogany head varnished, and his white eyes rolling audaciously. But as he was in the main a good-natured thing, he was more an object of derision than of anger. " He had not well sat down at the kitchen fire, till he  began to sing, in a very odd way, the song of Rule Britannia—Britons never will be slaves ;' and every now and then he rose and rampauged through the kitchen, giving a stamp with his foot that made the whole house dirt, crying out, ' Don't care d—n for Massa—me Massa now—Massa fleggee me—me floggee now Massa—Rule Britannia—Britains eber will be slave !'  " ' Jugurtha,' said I, in a kind and composing manner, he advised by me, and sit down soberly, and tell us what all this outstrapolousness means.' " Missee,' replied he, 'me free—me no black man, nigger—me Briton, me heart of oak—me drub 'em—old Massa pay me shall wage for time me come to Old England—  Me gentleman of England, Dat lib from home at seas.'  " Well, well, Jugurtha,' was my sedate observation, no doubt ye are a gentleman. It may be seen ye are, just by looking at ye ; but what's to become of this Maroon war that we have heard so much about, and how bloodhounds were brought from Santamingo to hunt the runaway niggers? Surely ye're no turned a Maroon ?' " No, Missee—no, Missee—me fire out de clearinghouse round de door, when 'em d—n Maroon would kill Massa.'  " At this moment Mr. Flowerfield, who had heard the uproar, and something of what was going on, came down stairs, and cried, You black rascal!' " The sound of his voice cowed Jugurtha, the intoxicated emancipator, causing him to retire slinking towards his seat at the fire-side, rebuked and subdued. But it was only for a short duration, for the drink was in his head ; he became most dreadful : starting from his seat, looking awful with his white teeth, and crying, as it were with a roar, 'Me no black rascal—me free man—my soul buckra soul.'  " And who washed the Ethiopian ?' said Mr. Flowerfield, looking round the kitchen, as I thought, for some weapon to inflict law and justice for such contumacy. Jugurtha snapped his fingers at the old gentleman, who had, by this time, caught hold of the hearth-brush, and who, without saying a word, knocked him down in a most methodical manner. I thought he was murdered, and Babby thought he was dead ; and so, to see such a black act as the slaying of a nigger in our house, caused us both at once to cry out in desperation, ' Murder and help— help !' " " Colonna, the Painter" is an impressive and finely penned tale, full of high wrought incident. " The Ruined Nunnery," by Delta, is a passable specimen of versification, and the " Noctes Ambrosianw," replete, as usual, with fun and spirit.