EDITORIAL SQUABBLES.

There are not many things we like better than a row, a paper war between a couple of newspaper editors; there is something so delectable in the sincere cordiality with which they abuse each other—so amusing in the air of surpassing wisdom and knowledge with which they contradict, and in the easy confident superiority with which they demolish each other’s assertions and positions. The most pleasant feature perhaps in the whole, however—and it is one that pervades all the manifestoes of their High Mightinesses—is the obvious conviction of each that he is demolishing, annihilating his antagonist; while you, the cool, dispassionate, and unconcerned reader, feel perfectly satisfied (and here lies the fun of the thing) that this said antagonist, so far from being demolished or annihilated, will become only more rigorous and rampant for the castigation inflicted on him.

Another amusing enough feature of editorial controversies is the infallibility of these worthy gentlemen. An editor is never wrong; it is invariably his “contemporary,” who has misunderstood or misrepresented him, either through ignorance or wilfulness. He did not say that—what he did say was this; and if his contemporary had read his article with ordinary attention, he would have found it so.

The editorial war being carried on in different styles according to circumstances and the tempers of the belligerents, the hostile articles assume various characters, amongst which are what may be called the Demolisher or Smasher, the Contradictor (calm and confident), the Abuser, and the Rejoinder and Settler (with cool and easy accompaniments). Of these various styles we happen to have at this moment some pretty tolerable specimens before us, two or three of which we shall select for the edification of our readers. The first is from “The Meridian Sun,” and is of the description which we would call

THE DEMOLISHER.

Our contemporary “The Northern Luminary,” as that concentration of dullness and opacity has the effrontery to call itself, is, we see, at his old tricks again. In the present case he is amusing himself with nibbling and cavilling at our account of the great public political dinner given by the inhabitants of our good town to our independent member, Josiah Priggins of Parsley-green, Esq. Our veracious contemporary accuses us of having omitted all notice of the hisses with which, he says, some portions of Mr Priggins’s speech were received. He further charges us with passing over in silence certain “disgraceful disturbances” by which, he asserts, the evening was marked, and concludes by stigmatizing the meeting as one of the lowest in character, and most unruly in conduct, that ever brought odium on a respectable community.

Now, can our readers guess the secret of all this spleen on the part of “The Northern Luminary,” of which, by the way, a certain prominent feature of that gentleman’s face is no bad type? We will tell them: he was not invited to the dinner! And, more, let us tell him, had he presented himself, he would not have been admitted!

Here, then, is the whole secret of the affair, and having mentioned it, we have explained all, and need not say that the “hisses” and “disgraceful disturbances” are gratuitous inventions of the enemy—in other words, downright fabrications.

We had the honour of bring at the dinner in question, and sat the whole evening at Mr Priggins’s left hand, and, thus situated, if there had been hissing, we certainly must have heard it. But there was none. Not a single hiss; and for the truth of this assertion we unhesitatingly pledge our word of honour. So far from any part or parts of Mr Priggins’s speech being hissed, every sentiment, almost every word that gentleman uttered, was hailed with unanimous and unbounded applause. In fact, we never heard a speech that gave such general satisfaction. As to the “disgraceful disturbances,” these we leave to the party of which the Northern Luminary is the avowed supporter.

Has he forgotten the scene that occurred at the last public dinner of his friends at the Hog and Pigs Tavern? He may, but we have not.

This statement, of course, rouses the utmost wrath of the editor of the “Northern Luminary,” who to the Demolisher of his contemporary replies with a red-hot

ABUSER.

It is (says the editor of “The Northern Luminary”) the nature of the serpent to sting, of the cur to bite, and of the editor of the Meridian Sun, save the mark!—the farthing candle—to fabricate falsehoods. This low scurrilous scribbler, this vile reptile, who leaves his slimy track on every subject over which he crawls, is again spitting his venom at us, and the friends of social order. But we will put our heel on the loathsome toad, and crush him as we would the disgusting little animal which he so much resembles. We were not invited to Mr Priggins’s dinner! We were, thou prince of liars! We were invited to the dinner, but we treated the invitation with the contempt it deserved. We knew that you, the editor of the Farthing Candle, were to be there—(when did you refuse a dinner, pray?)—and on this account we declined the invitation. We would not be seen sitting in the company of a man so utterly devoid of the feelings and principles of a gentleman, as the person alluded to is well known to be; and this, we repeat, was the reason why we did not honour the dinner in question with our presence.

That Priggins was hissed, and that the evening was marked by a most disgraceful disturbance, we have most respectable and most undoubted authority for repeating, and we repeat it accordingly. The effrontery is indeed monstrous and unblushing that would deny facts so notorious. Let the dastardly editor of the Farthing Candle again deny those facts if he dare.

Our next specimen is from “The Patagonian,” a paper of gigantic dimensions. It is

THE CONTRADICTOR (with calm and confident accompaniments).

Our contemporary “The Watch Tower” is grossly mistaken when he asserts that Ministers were outvoted on the question of the potato monopoly. They were not outvoted. They merely abandoned the measure, as we foresaw they would do from the first, and as we from the first advised them to do. Our contemporary is equally wrong in ascribing to a certain political party an undue influence in the affairs of this city. We know for certain that the party alluded to have no such influence. The idea is absurd.

Pray what can “The Watch Tower” mean by saying that the balance of power would not be in the least disturbed by Russia’s taking possession of Timbuctoo. Absurd! The balance of power would be disturbed, and very seriously too, by such a proceeding. By gaining possession of Timbuctoo, Russia would gain possession of Africa; and by gaining possession of Africa, Russia would gain possession of Cape Coast Castle, the coast of Guinea, and the Cape of Good Hope; and by gaining the Cape of Good Hope, she would deprive us of the East Indies. And, pray, where would we be then? We put the question to our contemporary with solemn earnestness, and with calm composure wait for his reply.

Really, our friend “The Watch Tower” is but a so-so hand at politics. He positively should be more cautious how he speaks of matters with which he is unacquainted. The consequence of an opposite conduct is a series of the most ridiculous blunders.

“The Watch Tower” is not to be contradicted and brow-beat in this way with impunity. He gives in return

A REJOINDER (with cool and easy settler).

In reply to certain captious remarks that appeared in yesterday’s Patagonian on our leading article of the 15th instant, we beg to say, for the information of the editor of that paper, that we did not say that Ministers were outvoted on the potato question. What we did say was, that Ministers would have been outvoted on that question had they brought it to issue. Strange that our contemporary will not read us aright.

Again, in ascribing a certain influence to a certain party, we guarded our expressions by the word “conditionally,” which, however, our contemporary, with his usual candour, has chosen to overlook, and thus entirely altered our meaning. Our contemporary concludes his tirade by asking us what we mean by saying “that the balance of power would not be in the least disturbed by Russia’s taking possession of Timbuctoo.” Now, what will our readers think when we tell them that we made no such assertion? What we said was, that the balance of power would not be disturbed by Russia’s occupying Timbuctoo, not possessing it, which difference of expression makes, we apprehend, a material difference in meaning. We supposed Russia occupying Timbuctoo as a friend, not possessing it as an enemy; and in this view of the case we repeat that the balance of power would in no ways be affected. We grant our contemporary’s conclusions, but deny his premises.

With regard to our contemporary’s sneer at our political knowledge, we would reply by calling his attention to his own blundering articles—(see his incomprehensible article on the corn-laws, his interminable article on the poor-rates, his unintelligible article on free trade and the Kamschatka loan, &c. &c. &c.) The editor of the Patagonian may rest assured that he has much to learn in the science of politics, and much, too, that we could teach him, although it is no business of ours to enlighten his ignorance.

C.