Answers to Correspondents.

Auckland Examiner, Volume 1, Issue 30, 16 July 1857, Page 2

Answers to Correspondents.

M.— lt is true that We love at proper time and place, To laugh behind the gravest face; But it is NOT true that we crack jokes in a malicious spirit, or would laugh virtue out of countenance. Charges of such, fiimsily false character are as “the idle wind which we regard not." Whence they come is evident. Our real and unforgiveable offence amounts just to this: When the EXAMINER began its work of home-truth-telling, sundry Auckland olitical cocks were crowing their hard-.

est. Never before in the wide world were seen such cocks, and never before had mortal man heard such crowing. No more able to endure it than we can the constant grating of a wheel upon its axle, we caught these ungame nuisances, cut their combs, and stopped their crowing. Sooner or later all but the ungame cocks themselves will thank us for taking such laudable pains to put down a public nuisance. Nag, we will, even at risk of offence to some easily offended people, and of provoking others to accuse us of blowing our own trumpet, borrow a tale, and personally point its moral:— “Once upon a time there was a madman, at Cordorva, who made it his business to carry about the streets upon his head a huge stone of pretty considerable weight, and whenever lie met with a dog without a master, especially such a surly cur as would stalk up to his nose, he very fairly dropped his load all at once dead upon him. The poor beast would hold and growl, and clapping his tail between his legs, limped away without so much as looking behind ; for two or three streets length at least. The madman, mightily pleased with his new device, served every dog that had courage to look him in the face with the same sauce; till one day it was his fortune to meet with a sportsman's dog, a cap-maker by trade, though that is neither here nor there. The dog was mightily valued by his master; but that was more than the madman knew — so slap went the stone upon the poor dog. The animal being almost crushed to death, set up his throat, and yelped most piteously, insomuch that his master, knowing that it was his dog by the howl, runs out, and touched by the injury, whips up a stick that was at hand, lets drive at the madman, and belabors him to some purpose, crying out at every blow, ‘ You son of a bad one, abuse my spaniel! you inhuman rascal, did you not know that my dog was spaniel?' And so thwacked the poor lunatic that he had not a whole bone in his skin. At last he crawled from under his clutches, and it was a whole month before he could lick himself whole again. Nevertheless, out he came__ once more-with his invention, and heavier than the former; but coming by the same dog again, though he had a month's mind to give him the other dab, yet recollecting himself, and shrugging up his shoulders, ‘No,’ quoth he ‘ 1 must have a care this • dog is a spaniel.’ In short, all he met, whether mastiffs or hounds, were downright spaniels to him ever after.’’ To the leading argument of our soft-spoken but rather sly correspondent, we answer by help of this fable; for it seemeth to us that during years John Williamson and his hell-broth-preparing literary cooks acted as though theyliad taken a leaf from the hook of this Cordova madman. Certanly they were animated by his spirit. Always prepared with a load of abuse they seized every fair and many a foul opportunity to drop it “ all at once souse” upon the head of any unfortunate opponent. But they are as much qualified by our “ thwackings” as the Cordova madman was by the “thwachings” of the master of the spaniel; and for reasons not unlike those which disturbed his amiable practice of sousing a huge stone upon every dog he met, our once formidable gang of public defamers are less inclined than formerly to drop a load of filthy abuse upon the head of every one who offends. CniTICUS — is thanked for his courtesy and good-will, though the facts sets forth in his excellently-written letter are not new to us. Of the Hama Rama block affair we heard some time since. Also about a certain fat subject whose taste for tasting whatever can be tasted at public auction rooms acquired for him the expressive soubriquet of Mr. Samples. Our little bird keeps us well-informed with regard to all such matters. Junius Redivivus-— will find that with respect to the letters published as Letters of Junius, there is nothing certain but uncertainty. Our most learned critics are, or very lately were, at pens drawn upon the point. By one party the Letters are proved to have been written by Sir Phillip Brands. By another varty no less learnedly eriLal the L ttirs are proved not to have been written by Sir Phillip Francis. So much for learned critics, and their fine critiques o/ 7 pure reason, concerning pure matter of fact. Oor correspondent is right as to Tom Moore hoving written the following lines: Whene'er yonr in doubt said a sage I ooee knew T’wixt two lines of conduct which course to pursue ; Take a woman's advice, and whate'er she advise Do the very reverse, and your sure to be wise. But though Moore was the author of these lines, the philosophy of them may be traced to a remote period. f lhe greatest geniuses are the greatest appropriators. Emerson says so, and history justifies his judgment. Nothing rarer than a new thought, or even a new phrase. When Daniel 0‘ Connell described one of his political contemperaries as neither fish nor flesh nor good red herring, he gained vast credit ; but merely upon the strength of a joke borrowed from Cervantes. It is clear that the excellent story about the Countryman and Partridge the Almanac-maker told by Quiz zicus in one of his Sketches, is derived from the source whence Tom Moore derived the philosophy of his melodious lines. Not long after that Sketch appeared « gentleman of this city favored us with a note in which, after referring to Moore’s lines fie drew our attention ft the fact that

Caliph Omar, reno wed for many reasons, but chiefly because he destroyed the famous Alexandrian library, was ungallant enough to declare that the mari who wants a sound opinion should ask a woman’s 1 and take the opposite or, to state the idea exactly according to the English version of Omar’s foreign idiom, “ If you want a good opinion, ask a woman and take the opposite." A.—may take offence at our bluntness; but we will, offence or no offence, bluntly tell him that he is rather too fastidious, and very much too exacting. Sir Toby Belch reproached for his freedom by stiff-as-buckram Malvolio asks that ridiculous person the quite pertinent question—“ Dost thou think because thou art virtous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ?" A. seems to imagine that readers of the Examiner shall neither have the cakes of sarcasm nor the ale of wit but the dry-unto-mouldiness crusts of virtuous seriousness soaked in an everlasting dish of skimmed milk. A. condemns what we write against the “New-Zea-lander” but extenuates what the “ Newlander” writes against all and sundry who differ from it. Why does A, condemn in us whet he applauds in John Williamson, or think quite right in the “New-Zealander” what he thinks “too bad” in the Examiner. We fear he is one of our motley mob of political Pharisees who while swallowing camels will strain at gnats. So recently as Saturday last the “New-Zealander," through one of it's hired charaoter slabbers, made another attack upon Magistrate Beckham, who, though no lawyer, seems to be better acquainted with the laws of his oivn Court than any one of the small crowd of small lawyers who carry briefs into it. Jits decisions are seldom unsound, and always upright. A more conscientious judge never sat upon the Auckland bench—a more painstaking judge it would be hard to find. And this is the judge whose judgments are sneered at, whose integrity is denied, and whose feelings are outraged by a band of the most illiterate, conceited, corrupt, and cowardly scribblers that ever fell under our notice. They may properly be called the “ NewZealander” Brass Band. Which of them perpetrated the abusive article referred to is of no moment ; but that the Auckland public should know towhat personal length the members of this Brass Band are prepared to go I take a few words from that article. After mentioning Judge Stephens, for no other obvious purpose than the basest, the writer proceeds as follows :—“ It was His Honor’s timely caution that intimidated but pliable gang of Progress Magistrates, who came submissive to the voice of ’.heir magician, not to protect life or property by tie impartial administration ot law; no, but to strip a majority of their fellowcitizens of the elective franchise.” Now, even woise, though less contemptible than the baseness of toady.ng Judge Stephen in this very offensive manner, is the charge of “ wishing to strip a majority of their fellow-citizens of the elective franchise” made against a body of gentlemen who by this scribbling “ Citizen of Auckland" are collectively designated as the “GANG of Progress Magistrates.” Methinks we hear our correspondent say, with all the sense and directness of Sam Weller, — saryes 'em right, But whatever he may say or think, let him cease to abuse people for being abusive, and not judge New Zealand writers upon one principle and Auckland EXAMINER writers upon another.