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DETRACTION 
 
 DISPLAYED. 
 
 BY AMELIA OPIE. 
 
 NEW-YORK; 
 
 PUBLISHED BY ORVILLE A, ROORBACH, 
 
 JF. E. Dean, Printtr. 
 
 1828, 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 With more than usual self-distrust,! give 
 this book to the world, and under circum- 
 stances of a new and trying nature. The 
 voice of affectionate encouragement, which 
 used to animate me to my task, I can hear 
 no more ; and when, from the force of habit, 
 I have sometimes turned round, while writ- 
 ing, to ask as in former times for counsel 
 and advice, I have been painfully remind- 
 ed, that the judicious critic, as well as ten- 
 der parent, was removed from me forever. 
 But I have the consolation of knowing, that 
 should this work excite severe animadver- 
 sion, he will not share in this expected pain ; 
 — I say " expected," because detraction is 
 as common as the air we breathe, and to 
 some, from long indulgence in it, it Is now 
 almost as necessary ; and an endeavour to 
 substitute profitable discourse for talking- 
 over and laughing at one's friends and 
 neighbours, will be thought nearly as cruel 
 as to exclude the air necessary for repira- 
 tion* 
 
 1* . 
 
Yl 
 
 Nor have I been encouraged to my la- 
 bours by any sanguine expectation of do- 
 ing good: for so rare is self-knowledge, 
 that though I am often told that Detraction 
 abounds, that my work is necessary, and 
 will, no doubt, benefit others, scarcely any 
 one says, " I hope it will be of benefit to 
 me ;" yet, general improvement can only 
 be the result of individual reformation. Be- 
 sides, even those persons, who complain 
 that the sin is universal, speak in a careless, 
 indifferent tone, as if they thought it had ac- 
 quired a prescriptive right to remain so, and 
 that the endeavour to make it less common 
 must be Utopian Reverie. 
 
 I have, however, been cheered in my 
 labours by one conviction, — namely, that 
 though what 1 have written may offend 
 many of my readers, and benefit but few, 
 it will at least, as I humbly trust, warn and 
 amend myself. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It is a generally admitted truth, that obser- 
 vation is one of the most effectual methods 
 of improving the mind — observation, there- 
 fore, may be justly reckoned amongst the most 
 valuable faculties which we possess. But, like 
 all other gifts, it is liable to be abused, especial- 
 ly when it is exercised on the character of 
 others ; for then, if not under the directing and 
 restraining power of religious principles, it 
 leads to that pernicious vice in society, known 
 by the name of detraction. 
 
 To observe (that is, to discover) the faults 
 and vices of those with whom we associate, is 
 often a measure necessary for self-defence. But 
 if the observers of the frailties of their friends 
 and acquaintances make those frailties the 
 theme of backbiting conversation, they pervert 
 the useful faculty of observation to the pernr- 
 <3ious purposes of detraction. 
 
^ DKTkACtiaN DISPLAYED- 
 
 All who ha\;e Uviid in the world with arij 
 c'uKffciouVriess of tb^ir own besetting sins, or 
 those of others, rrmst readily admit, that m 
 every t\a.ss or rank in society, from the peer 
 to the peasant, from the master to the valet, 
 from the mistress to the maid, from the most 
 learned to the most ignorant, from the man of 
 genius to the man of the meanest capacity, de- 
 traction is amongst the most common of all 
 vices, and is one in which persons indulge 
 with perfect self-complacency as well as evi- 
 dent enjoyment. 
 
 Should self-reproach and moral disgust at a 
 long continued detracting conversation lead 
 any individual to endeavour to change the sub- 
 ject, and raise its tone to a more intellectual 
 pitch, how often is the virtuous effort wholly 
 fruitless — how often do the conversers seize 
 the first opportunity of escaping from the use- 
 ful consideration of things, to the mischievous 
 discussion of persons ; till, to the mental eye, 
 the scene of this petty warfare against absent 
 friends and acquaintances seems strewed with 
 mutilated qualities, mangled talents and shat- 
 tered reputations. 
 
 It is my intention to point out the deformi- 
 ty of this common vice, in the foll(*wing pages ; 
 though I am well aware, that no small degree 
 of unpopularity atten^Js on all authors who 
 hold up to their readers, as in a mirror, their 
 darling and daily sins. But to excuse my pre- 
 sumption to them as well as to myself, 1 beg 
 leave to add that, in writing this book, 1 have 
 
BETRACTION DISPLAYED. 9 
 
 been influenced by the wish to effect my own 
 reformation as well as that of others ; for, being 
 conscious of falling frequently into the sin of 
 detraction, I could in no surer way arm my- 
 self against myself, than by publishing pre- 
 cepts which it will be incumbent upon me to 
 enforce by my own example. 
 
 I intend to show the origin of this besetting 
 sin ; to describe its habitual style, and the situ- 
 ations which are most likely to lead into the 
 practice of it ; to divide into classes the differ- 
 ent species of detractors ; and humbly to sug- 
 gest such hints for self-government in conver- 
 sation, as may, if acted upon, preclude even 
 the desire to indulge in detraction. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 ON GENERAL AND PARTICULAR COIJIPETITION. 
 
 Whenever we see a great effect produced, 
 it is natural for us to wish to find out its most 
 efficient cause. Therefore, as detraction pos- 
 sesses unlimited power in society, one is desi- 
 rous of ascertaining its chief source ; and it ap- 
 pears to me, that the most abundant source of 
 detraction is competition. The love of dis- 
 tinction and notice, common to us all, prompts 
 to general and particular competition; and 
 when we are conscious that those with whom 
 we are put in competition, by ourselves or 
 
to I>ETRAGTXON 1>1SPLATED<. 
 
 others, are more noticed and distinguished 
 than we are, by particular individuals, or by 
 the world at large, envy is excited in our hearts, 
 and that envy leads to detraction. Hence, 
 though I freely admit that detraction, and even 
 defamation, may sometimes proceed from a 
 Hiere love of talking, I still believe that they 
 are usually caused by general or tarticu- 
 
 XAR COMPETITION. 
 
 Competition is not confined to the human 
 species. Petted animals are as susceptible of 
 it as men and women. They are displeased 
 when they see occasional caresses bestowed 
 by their owners on rival favourites ; and if ne- 
 glected for other pets, their jealousy is mani- 
 fest to every one, and they not unfrequently 
 vent their rage on the objects of iheir envy. 
 They can, however, inflict injuries only on the 
 hody ; but human beings can injure the fame 
 and the peace also of their rivals. For it fre- 
 quently happens that some one, either through 
 ill-judging kindness, or real malignity, in the 
 garb of good intention, lets the subjects of sa- 
 tire know, that their claims to virtues, talents, 
 and graces, are nibbled away by the teeth of 
 time-killing gossips, or torn in pieces by the 
 fangs of scandal-mongers, and murderers of 
 reputations. 
 
 I shall now endeavour to define what I con- 
 sider to be general, and what particular com- 
 petition. 
 
 General competition is a desire of notice and 
 attention, common to us all. Few persons en- 
 t^r into society without wishing to become ob- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. ll 
 
 Jects of notice at least. Even the humblest 
 of human beings would be hurt, if, while pass- 
 ing an evening in company, no conversation 
 was addressed to themselves, and they would 
 not only exclaim against the dulness of the 
 party, but would naturally feel envious of their 
 companions : and unless under strong religious 
 or moral restraint, they would be led to detract 
 from the merit of the rest of the company the 
 next time that they were named in their pre- 
 sence. Detraction, consequently, would, in 
 this case, be the result of the dis.\.p pointed 
 DESIRE OF NOTICE. Nor was it necessary that 
 the persons so disappointed should imagine 
 they possessed claims to distinction : they 
 might be, as I before observed, the humblest 
 of their species, but it was enough that they 
 were social beings, that they had humaii sym- 
 pathies ; that attention and notice appeared to 
 them a sort of public property, to which with 
 others they had a common right ; and being 
 denied participation in it, they gave way to 
 envy, and envy led to detraction. But had 
 they possessed certain talents, and exerted 
 them at the party, in rivalship with their com- 
 panions, they would have been in particular 
 cOMPETiTioiv ; and had they felt themselves 
 excelled, their comments would probably have 
 been more severe, as then the prize aimed at 
 would not only have been notice, but admira- 
 tion, and in proportion to the ambition, is usu- 
 ally the disappointment. 
 
 I must here observe, that though we may be 
 ^Unconsciously in general competition, a»d 
 
12 DETRACTION DIS.PLAyEI>. 
 
 know not that our detraction proceeds from 
 the envy which a sense of rivalry excites, we 
 must be conscious when we are in particular 
 competition, and if we reflect at all, our mo- 
 tives must be clear to us as they are to others. 
 Professional jealousy is proverbial, and 
 whence does this proceed but from competi- 
 tion 1 But in a metropolis, competition is ge- 
 neral , in a provincial town it becomes parti- 
 cular ; as the narrower the field of rivalry, 
 the more pointed is the jealousy. But though 
 all unsuccessful rivalship is hard to bear, that 
 which more immediately provokes the deadly 
 vengeance of the detracting tongue, is the 
 successful rivalship that is forced upon the 
 sight and the conviction. The barrister or the 
 solicitor, the physician or the surgeon, who 
 sits at home anxiously expecting the business 
 which, for him^ never arrives, though he con- 
 cludes that it goes to some one else, will 
 probably be tempted to some unkind remarks 
 on his more successful brethren. But if the 
 solicitor who has no clients, enters an assize 
 or sessions-court, time after time, as a spec- 
 tator and an idle one merely ;'if the barrister 
 sits in those courts briefless and unheededy 
 seeing his rivals employed, and listening re- 
 luctantly to their successful eloquence ; if the 
 medical man, while going on foot to visit his 
 two or three patients, sees the never- resting 
 gigs or chariots of his competitors driving 
 across his path, proving at every turn their 
 superior popularity ; it is, I believe, impossible 
 for tmregeneraied nature, not to feel sensa- 
 
I 
 
 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. IJi 
 
 tions of mortification and envy, which would 
 very probably lead to the bitterest remarks on 
 the professional skill of the successful rivals. 
 
 But the jealousies of competition and its re- 
 sults are by no means confined to the profes- 
 sions of lawand physic. Public characters^ 
 in ALL professions, experience the dangerous 
 feelings produced by general and particular 
 competition ; and the most distinguished 
 amongst them have often suffered in their in- 
 terest, their reputation, and their peace of mindy 
 from the detraction and defamation excited by 
 their success. 
 
 Painters and sculptors, may be said to ba 
 always in general competition, and conse- 
 quently are exposed to the temptations which 
 attend it ; but they are in particular competi- 
 tion, when their performances are submitted 
 to public view in a gallery, or in the annual 
 exhibition at Somerset House. If an artist 
 enters the exhibition rooms day after day, and 
 sees a loudly applauding crowd before the pic- 
 tures or sculpture of others, while no one is 
 standing, in either loud or silent admiration, 
 before his own, he must be under a very unu- 
 sual degree of moral government, if he forbears 
 to detract from the merit of the work so evi- 
 dently preferred to his own ; and will undoubt- 
 edly return home from this scene of disap- 
 pointed claims, with a sense of mortification, 
 which nothing can allay but rigid criticism on 
 the p'^rformances of his rivals ; in which his 
 eye, seeing through the medium of unsuccess- 
 
14 DETRACTION DISPLArED. 
 
 fill competition, magnifies defects, and throws* 
 beauties into the shade. 
 
 All candidates for fame must be wounded 
 by reading the praises of their successful corn* 
 petitors in the daily prints, if nothing, or no- 
 thing in commendation, be said of themselves. 
 But those who are brought, at the same time, 
 into personal and direct competition in public, 
 are tempted to detraction more powerfully than 
 any other class ; because loud applauses are 
 often bestowed on some of those competitors, 
 while the rest are heard in silence, or find 
 their efforts received with marked disapproba- 
 tion. Hence the jealousy of persons in these 
 classes of society is said to be the strongest ; 
 but, if it be so, considering the infirmity of 
 human nature, it must be allowed to be the 
 most excusable. 
 
 Authors also, as public characters, are often 
 under the influence of the painful feelings ex- 
 cited by competition. . Except when they are 
 competitors for prizes at college, they are not, 
 indeed, called into that close rivalry which 
 causes the most bitter jealousy, and its most 
 painful results ; but they are exposed to feel 
 envy and mortification, and do undoubtedly 
 feel them, if they see their own works criti- 
 cised, and those of others commended. 
 
 Before I proceed, I would fain impress on 
 the minds of those who read this book, and 
 are humble enough to admit the possibility of 
 their learning something from worldly expe- 
 rience, though they may think meanly of the 
 ability of the author, that the simple desire of 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 15 
 
 iv^o TICK and attention, without the exertion • 
 and collision of similar talents, is sufficient to 
 account for much of the detraction which exists 
 in society. Dr. Goldsmith was a remarkable 
 proof of th-e truth of this assertion. Boswell 
 says, that " when Goldsmith was accompanying 
 two beautiful young ladies, with their mother, 
 on a tour to France, he was seriously angry 
 that more respect was paid to them than to 
 him." And Dr. Johnson said of him, " Sir, 
 he is so afraid of being unnoticed, that he of- 
 ten talks lest one should forget he is in the 
 company." And once, (according to Boswell,) 
 at the exhibition of the Fantoccini in London, 
 when those who sat next him observed with 
 what dexterity a puppet was made to toss a 
 pike, he could not bear that it should have 
 such praise, and exclaimed with some warmth, 
 " Pshaw ! / can do it better my self. ^^ It is 
 also related of him, that he expressed a wish 
 to destroy the Lincolnshire ox, because it was 
 the theme of general wonder, and the object 
 of general attention. This was, undoubtedly, 
 the simple jealousy of notice, as he could 
 not compete in beauty with the ladies in ques- 
 tion, nor with the mechanist in skill, nor with 
 the ox in size, but he was impatient and angry 
 merely because they attracted attention from 
 himself. 
 
 It i« with reluctance that I have brought 
 
 forward the infirmities of a man so highly gift- 
 
 i as Oliver Goldsmith — a writer from whose 
 
 orks the British public has probably derived 
 
 ore varied intellectual delight, thati from 
 
16 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 most other authors ; but I thought it necessary 
 ia order to strengthen my own opinion on this 
 subject. However, it may be advantageous 
 to as all to remember, that, as a mind, power- 
 ful and superior as his, was liable to be over- 
 come by the vice of envy, it is doubly incum- 
 bent on weaker minds to be watchful against 
 its power ; for, whether it be in little or in 
 great things, the feehng of competition in us 
 is daily called forth, and its results are often 
 degrading to ourselves, and mischievous to 
 others. 
 
 The candid and the generous could turn 
 from Goldsmith's weaknesses to admire his 
 excelling talents ; but how can detractors es- 
 cape unmitigated censure, who, without talents 
 to compensate for their defects, often take a 
 mean delight in ridiculing " the excellence 
 they cannot reach?" 
 
 The competition amongst women on the 
 ^core of personal charms is notorious, and the 
 rivalry of professed beauties, is even prover- 
 MaL Addison, in the first volume of the 
 Spectator, gives a story illustrative of this sort 
 of competition, which I originally intended to 
 introduce in these pages, but as I have never 
 seen it carried to such weak and odious lengths 
 as he describes, amongst beauties of the pre- 
 sent day, and think the whole tale beyond 
 the bounds of nature and probability, I shall 
 simply refer my readers to the tale itself. 
 
 But though I cannot fully accede to the 
 truth of Addison's painting, in the tale in ques- 
 tion, yet I believe, that most women, and I 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. l7 
 
 dare say most men, can remember that, at some 
 period of their lives, they have gone into com- 
 pany, meaning to enter into general, and per- 
 haps, /)ar^icw/ar competition ; not on the score 
 of beauty, hke Philhs and Brunetta in the 
 tal«, but on that of agreeableness and smart- 
 ness in dress and appearance ; and that in pro- 
 portion to their conviction of having attracted 
 superior notice and general admiration, has 
 been their pleasure during the evening ; and 
 according to their consciousness of failure 
 in the objects of their ambition, has been its 
 pain. *'Hovv did you like the party last 
 
 night, at Lady 's," said a friend of mine 
 
 to an acquaintance, (now no more, I believe,) 
 who piqued herself on her personal charms. 
 ** O ! it was delightful!" washer ingenuous 
 reply, " all the women were so ugly !'' There 
 the feeling of competition was carried to the 
 utmost, for the party was rendered delightful 
 to this lady, merely by her conviction that no 
 one present could compete with her in beauty. 
 I shall now treat of competitions of perhaps a 
 lower nature. Competitions general and par- 
 ticular in houses, furniture, and style of living. 
 ** We must live up to our rank or station in 
 life, or to our real or imputed fortune," is 
 often the language of the' head or ruler of 
 every considerable family in Europe, proba- 
 bly, when parsimony or principle does not 
 prevent this feeling from being acted upon. 
 •* We must live as our neighbours and equals 
 do," is another axiomic phrase, by which ma- 
 ny persons in society are governed in their 
 2* 
 
IS DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 ilomestic arrangements. And a feeling of 
 general competition is its source amongst the 
 first class, and of particular competition 
 amongst the latter. 
 
 The man of rank desires to live as his ances- 
 tors did, and as his peers do, but does not 
 wish to vie with any particular individual in 
 his own class. 1 he man of a certain station, 
 or consequence, in hfe, wishes to live like 
 men of his standing in the world ; and the rich 
 or seemingly rich man is desirous of living 
 like other men in the world at large, who ap- 
 pear on a level with himself; and these persons 
 are consequently in len^ral competition. But 
 those who say, '* we must live, and do as our 
 neighbours live and do," are residents proba- 
 bly in the bounded circle of a country town 
 or village, and have some family or persons 
 in view with whom they feel particular com- 
 petition. In a Metropolis, one has no neigh- 
 bours, nor is it easy to ascertain who there are 
 one's equals or inferiors. It is in provincial 
 residences that the feeling of paiticular com- 
 petition is called forth ; — it is from the facility 
 of ascertaining, with some degree of accuracy, 
 who our neighbours are, and whether our 
 friends and relations are equal to ourselves in 
 opulence, that this often ensnaring and ruinous 
 rule of living, this proof of pride of heart and 
 weakness of judgment, escapes the lips, '' One 
 must do as our neighbours do, one must live 
 as one's neighbours live." And, perhaps, the 
 sense of competition can never be so danger- 
 ous 9s when it prompts to the foregoing ex- 
 
L 
 
 PETRACTION DISPLAYED. 19 
 
 pressions, and instead of principle and pru- 
 dence, makes the expenses of others the regu- 
 lation of our own. 
 
 The following dialogue will not only exem- 
 plify my meaning, but at the same time 
 represent a true picture of many family de- 
 liberations. "• Pray. papa, let me learn mu- 
 sic," says an ambitious little girl to her in- 
 dulgent father ; "• Emily D learns, and 
 
 why should not I ?" " Because her papa is 
 very richj my dear, and I am not." '' O ! dear 
 papa, I am sure you can afford it as well as he, 
 and really, papa, every body wonders you 
 do not let me learn as Emily does." " But it 
 costs so much money, Louisa, and these are 
 hard times, besides, Emily has an ear for mu- 
 sic, and you perhaps have not." " O ! dear 
 papa, I am sure I have quite as good an ear as 
 she has, and she has very little voice, and I 
 have a great deal. Dear me ! every body says 
 I should sing and play so well if I were to learn! 
 and really, papa, people will think you quite 
 stingy." " Well, well, child, If I know my- 
 self not to be so, that does not signify ; but I 
 will hear what your mother says." <' ! 
 papa, I know mamma wishes it as much as I 
 
 do ; she does not like Emily D should be 
 
 more accomplished than I am." " JVor I 
 neither, my dear ; but you are young yet." 
 " Young, papa ! I am two months older than 
 
 Emily D ." ** Indeed ! well, but wait till 
 
 next year." " Next year ! and let Emily get 
 so much before me ! I might then just as well 
 not learn at all." Here, just as the young 
 
20 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 voice is beginning, probably, to falter with 
 mingled anger and disappointment, the mother 
 enters. " So, my dear," cries her husband, 
 " I find you have been putting extravagant 
 wishes into our child's head." " How so ]" 
 " She wishes to learn music, and says that you 
 approve it." " Well, my dear, and so I do, 
 and where is the extravagance or impropriety ? 
 
 you can afford it; and really, those D s 
 
 and those L s are so set up, and so con- 
 ceited of their children's acquirements, that 
 as our Louisa is quite as clever as they are, I 
 do think she ought to have as many advan- 
 tages." '< I think so too ; but if she has a music 
 master, she must give up her drawing master. 
 I cannot with prudence let her have both." 
 Here an indignant exclamation from both 
 mother and daughter interrupts the speaker, 
 and Louisa falters out, *'Give up my drawing 
 master, papa, just as I have begun to copy 
 prints ?" " What, my dear, make the poor 
 child give up her master now that he says she 
 has such a genius, that she has already made a 
 better copy of a head of Vandyke, than Emily 
 D— — , who has learnt twice the time ; and 
 
 that Harriet L 's eyes, noses, and ears, 
 
 though she is so much older, are not to be 
 compared to Louisa's ]" " Is this really the 
 case T' cries the gratified father, overcome by 
 these proofs of his child's superiority; *' well 
 then, I fear I must consent to let Louisa have 
 tvv^o masters at once, but she must promise to 
 be very diligent, and learn quickly, for I as- 
 sure you, my dear, that business^ just now is 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 21 
 
 very dead, and things are not going well, and 
 I feel that I ought to draw in a little ; however, 
 I am willing to stretch a point for Louisa's ad- 
 vantage " 
 
 Thus, the feeling of competition with the 
 
 set up D s and L s, conies in aid of 
 
 parental affection, and parental vanity, and 
 
 the point is carried ! Emily D must not 
 
 be permitted to excel his own daughter in 
 what, by the world, is deemed indispensable 
 knowledge ; and the suggestions of a well 
 principled prudence are wholly disregarded. 
 Nor, probably, will these indulgent parents 
 
 ever hear Emily D sing or play with any 
 
 pleasure again. They will always be compar- 
 ing her performance with that of their own 
 Louisa, and they will be ready to say, that she 
 sings out of tune, and plays out of time, when- 
 ever her musical abilities are the theme of 
 conversation Yet far be it from me to ridi- 
 cule even the weakness of parental affection. A 
 tender and indulgent parent must ever be in 
 my eyes, an object of affectionate reverence ; 
 but in this instance, and I believe it is a com- 
 mon instance, the indulgence was not the re- 
 sult of yielding affection only, but was full as 
 much occasioned by a weak feeling o{ particu- 
 lar competition, and that feeling was leading 
 the father to permit what his circumstances 
 could but ill afford ; he was therefore running 
 the risk of injuring the fortune of that very 
 child, whose young and dangerous ambition 
 he was thus thoughtlessly willing to gratify. 
 Alas ! I fear we all have, or have had, though 
 
22 DETRACTION DISPLAYED^ 
 
 in different instances, and on different occa- 
 sions, our Emily D s, and our Harriet 
 
 L s. 
 
 I sliall now recapitulate what has been said 
 in this chapter. 
 
 That competition is of two kinds, general 
 and particular. 
 
 That general competition is often uncon- 
 scious^ but that particular competition must 
 be consciously experienced. That both lead 
 to envy and to detraction. 
 
 That competition is not confined to the hu- 
 man species, but that petted animals are equal- 
 ly susceptible of it. 
 
 That professional jealousies are proverbial, 
 whether they be those of general competition 
 in a metropolis, or particular competition in a 
 country town, but that those of the latter are 
 from the closeness of the competitorship, the 
 most bitter, and most likely to lead to detrac- 
 tion. 
 
 That all public characters, when brought in- 
 to immediate collision, are more especially ex- 
 posed to feel envy, and be guilty of detraction, 
 as the result of particular Competition. 
 
 That it is not necessary to be in particular 
 competition to feel envy ; that a general desire 
 for notice is sufficient to cause it, and I give 
 anecdotes of Dr. Goldsmith to prove this. 
 
 That the jealous rivalry of women on the 
 score of personal charms is notorious : and 
 lastly, " we must do as others do, and live as 
 others live," is a powerful but dangerous rule 
 of action. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED^ 23 ' 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SUBJECT CONTINUED. 
 
 ^ The cbmpetition between party and ball 
 giving ladies is every where known and ac- 
 knowledged, whether they reside in a metro- 
 polis or in the country, *in a city or a village — 
 whether the giver of the entertainment be a 
 dutchess, or only the wife of a country gentle- 
 man or a rich tradesman ; but, even on these 
 occasions, the bitterness of the rivalry must 
 be in proportion to the closeness of the com- 
 petition. 
 
 " When Greek meets Greek then comes the 
 tug of war." The peeress will be, compara- 
 tively, indifferent to the consciousness that 
 her entertainment was inferior in splendour 
 and excellence to that of her country or city 
 rivals ; nor will the latter be mortified at hear- 
 ing of the superior attractions of the fete given 
 by the peeress. 
 
 But, if the peeress be outshone by a rival 
 peeress, and the country lady and rich ci- 
 tizen's wife be eclipsed by party givers of 
 their own rank in life, then the unsuccessful 
 competition leads to particular envy, and 
 that envy, most probably, vents itself in de- 
 traction. 
 
 But, though particular as well as general 
 competition as certainly takes place in a me- 
 tropolis as in a provincial residence, it is more 
 
24 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 common in the narrow circle of a country 
 town, and its neighbourhood. 
 
 Competition in giving a dinner, and in the 
 excellence as well as number of the dishes, is 
 never so powerful perhaps as in a bounded 
 circle, and it is rarely that professed dinner- 
 givers 'here admit that they ever see, or eat, 
 an elegant and good dinner anywhere but at 
 their own table ; not that they are at all to be 
 pitied on this occasion ; for the pain of eating 
 ill -dressed viands is not to be weighed in the 
 balance against the satisfaction with which the 
 dinnner-giver utters, ** it was certainly not such 
 a dinner as I should have given !" This is how- 
 ever one of the most innocent detractions, and 
 I mention it merely to show how immediately, 
 even in trifles, detraction is the result of com- 
 petition i '* And little things are great to little 
 men," says the poet, as the following anecdote 
 of a gentleman who lived many years in a coun- 
 try town in , will, I trust, amusingly ex- 
 emplify. This gentleman piqued himself on 
 giving good dinners, and equally so on enter- 
 taining, sometimes, at his well-filled table, the 
 no»)lemen and other great personages residing 
 in the neighbourhood. The day after one of 
 these occasions, and when he thought that he 
 and his cook had exceeded themselves, he call- 
 ed on a friend who lived near him to describe 
 to her his conscious success, and give her a 
 detail of the feast ; but just before he had begun 
 it, one of his late guests knocked at the door. 
 " Th« re is Mrs. such a one," exclaimed he, 
 ^' I dare say she will talk of ray dinner. Let 
 
J>ETRilCT10N DISPLAYED. 25 
 
 me hide myself behind the skreen, I should so 
 like to hear what she says of it." According- 
 ly, not waiting for leave the dinner-giver took 
 possession of his hiding-place. He was right 
 in his conjectures, for the lady (a dinner giver 
 herself probably) was full of the entertainment 
 of the precedinjj day, and as soon as the ques- 
 tion of <' but what dishes were in the first 
 course ?" was asked, she regularly and rapidly 
 mentioned them all, till she came to the fourth 
 corner dish, which, after many attempts, she 
 was still unable to remember, and was just 
 saying, " I. really do not know what that dish 
 was," when the impatient dinner-giver burst 
 from his concealment regardless of exposure, 
 and throwing down the skreen in his eager- 
 ness to do his dinner justice, exclaimed, *' Hot 
 lobsters, ladies ! hot lobsters !" This story 
 may appear to others perhaps trifling and ab- 
 surd, but had the censurers heard it. as I did, 
 told by a lady who possesses, amongst many 
 far higher and more valuable gifts, Parf de 
 rac outer in the highest perfection, they would 
 probably have been as much amused by it as 
 I was. 
 
 In a country town, when those who have 
 hitherto gone on foot, set up a close carriage, 
 a sense of mortification is often felt, because 
 the circumstance tells a tale of increased and 
 increasing opulence in the parties who do it ; 
 and if they were below their fellow-citizens, 
 at one period of their lives, in rank and expec- 
 tations, a long time must elapse before they 
 are allowed to enjoy their well earned wealth. 
 
26 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 ^vithout being the objects of petty detraction. 
 But this new carriage will tempt some few in- 
 dividuals to pariicuhir competition with its 
 possessor, and if, ultimately, prudence prevails, 
 and they dare not yield to the temptation of 
 keeping a carriage themselves, then the new- 
 ly aggrandized become probably to them, pro- 
 vocations to constant satire and derision : the 
 reality of their opulence is doubted, and their 
 right to keep this evidence of riches is denied, 
 while the detractors are wholly unconscious, 
 that if the objecls of their censure had not 
 launched out into a style of living, in which 
 they dared not follow them, they would still 
 havp remained in their eyes, industrious, thriv- 
 ing, excellent people. 
 
 But, less prudent than the above-mentioned 
 detractors, how many a John Nokes has set 
 up his carriage, built or hired, a country house 
 merely because Tom Stiles had just done so 
 before him ; and because his wife's or children's 
 jealousy of being outshone by those who were 
 once perhaps their inferiors in consequence, 
 is really the impelling motive to the indul- 
 gence, though the ostensible plea be that of 
 health and convenience. How many diamond 
 ears-rinofs have shone on the ears of even un- 
 pretending matrons, merely because those of a 
 friend or relation have thus been decorated, or 
 that some flattering gossip has said, " I wonder 
 your husband should not buy jewels for you, 
 they would become you better than Mrs. such 
 an one, for we all remember the time when 
 she was in a very different line of life to what 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 27 
 
 she now is, but it is suprising how some peo- 
 ple get on in the world !" and unless the mind 
 of the person addressed is exceedingly well- 
 disciplined, it is most likely that she could 
 not help replying, " But they do say that the 
 husband has made some unfortunate specula- 
 tions lately, and the wife we know is not the 
 best of managers," and so on, in increasing and 
 mutual detraction. But this detraction might 
 never have taken placOj had not these ladies 
 been in particular competition with the lady 
 with the diamond ear-rings, because they were 
 perhaps of the same age, of the same personal 
 pretensions, moved in the same family circle, 
 or that their husbands were in the same line 
 ©f business. 
 
 In their power of exciting pernicious jea* 
 lousies, the competitions between public cha- 
 racters are nearly equalled by the rivalships 
 in a public ball-room. Nor are private balls, 
 concerts, or any scenes for the display of 
 rival accomplishments, wholly exempted from 
 the dangers alluded to. The first public 
 ball is often anticipated by a girl on her en- 
 trance into the world, as the climax of every 
 thing delightful, and as if it were the chief 
 end of her education, and even of her exist- 
 ence. But I fear that many an amiable girl 
 leaves the ball-room a degree less amiable 
 than when she first entered it. She has begun 
 a career of rivalship and display. She has 
 come into general and particular competition 
 with her young acquaintances. If, as she goes 
 down the dance, or exhibits her graces in the 
 
28 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 quadrille, she hears encomiums on her ovvii 
 charms and elegant performance, her vanity 
 is perniciously fed, she is m danger of consider- 
 ing a ball-room as her sphere, and the scene 
 of the greatest dehghts, while the modest, safe 
 enjoyments of domestic hfe become compara- 
 tively in«ipid. If, on the contrary, she over- 
 hears the praises of her competitors, she is 
 exposed to feel the pain of jealousy and mor- 
 tification, and the young acquaintances who 
 were, perhaps, dear to her before that evening, 
 she will, at least, be in future inclined ro de- 
 preciate. But, if she be so wine and amiable 
 as to remain m this scene of danger and temp- 
 tation, uninjured by her own success, or 
 that of others, I fear that those most inter- 
 ested in her triumphs will not entirely escape 
 from the snares attendant on competition : and 
 parents, or affectionate relations, who had 
 hitherto been candid in judging the merits of 
 their friends' and neighbours' children, will 
 learn to depreciate their claims to admiration 
 as soon as they behold them in a ball-room, 
 in particular competition with their own chil- 
 dren and relatives. But, if even the successful 
 and (he distinguished there be exposed to occa- 
 sional mortification, and its censorious results, 
 how strong must be the temptation to detrac- 
 tion experienced by tliose unfortunate indivi- 
 duals, who have succeeded neither in general 
 nor particular competition, and having gone 
 home without having been asked to dance, at 
 all, or been forced to accept a disagreeable part- 
 ner, rather than not dance! Surelv, their hours. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 29 
 
 after the ball, while they draw closely round 
 the domestic hearth on their return, to talk 
 over the scenes of the evening, with those to 
 whom they probably appeared the ** wonder of 
 their kind," must have been passed in taking 
 to pieces, as the phrase is, their more admired 
 competitors, unless they were to an unusual 
 degree under moral restraint. Therefore, both 
 to the successful and to the unsuccessful, to 
 those in general and those in particular com- 
 petition, the first ball is the beginning of a 
 series of dangers and temptations, which are 
 likely to have a pernicious effect on the youth- 
 ful mind and character. Nor are the youth of 
 the other sex exempted from the temptations 
 to evil attendant on such scenes. They are 
 rivals in the choice of partners, and in skill in 
 the dance : therefore, successful and unsuccess- 
 ful competition will have the same effect on 
 them as on my own sex ; and who that has ever 
 listened to the comments of men as well as 
 women on each other, but must allow, that 
 detraction from the merits of their competitors 
 is the besetting sin of men as well as of wo- 
 men. May I be permitted to observe here, that 
 long experience has taught me to believe, that 
 happy and privileged indeed are those, what- 
 ever may be their own peculiar line of tenipta- 
 tiorif who are born under circumstances which 
 exclude them from the dangers incident to the 
 ball and the concert room ! And happy and fa- 
 voured also are they, who, having experienced 
 their pleasures and their dangers, have been wil- 
 ling to resign them even in their early years, for 
 3* 
 
30 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 the more harmless pleasures of domestic life, 
 and been contented to exert the talents which 
 charmed an admiring crowd, to give variety 
 to the amusements of their family circle, to 
 gladden the parental heart, and to render home 
 to all its inhabitants the dearest and most de- 
 hghtlul, as well as the satest place on earth. 
 
 1 wish to indulge myself in giving an extract 
 from one of Baroness de StaePs works, wliich 
 bears dnectly and powerfully on the subject 
 before me. '* Ob.serve," says that admi able 
 writer, " a young woman in a ball-room, wish- 
 ing to be thought the handsomest woman there, 
 but fearing that her wishes may be disappoint- 
 ed ! Pleasure, in whose name the party had 
 assembled, is annihilated to her. She has not 
 a single moment's enjoyment ; for every mo- 
 ment is, to her, absorbed by her ruhng ambi- 
 tion, and by the efforts which she makes to 
 conceal it She watches the looks, the slight- 
 est signs of the observations of others, with 
 the attention of the moralist, the uneasiness of 
 the ambi ious ; and being anxious to conceal 
 from all eyes the sufi'erings ol her mind, it is 
 by her affectation of gaity during the triumph 
 of her rivals, by the turbulence of her con- 
 versation, while she hears her rivals applaud- 
 ed, and by the too eager kind of overacted 
 interest with which she accosts them ; it is by 
 these superfluous efforts that she betrays her 
 real feelings. Grace, that crowning charm of 
 beauty, cannot exist without the repose and 
 artlessness of confidence ; uneasiness and con- 
 straint deprire us even of the advantages which 
 
i>ETRACT10N DlSFtAYED. 31 
 
 we possess. The contraction of wounded self- 
 love alters and disfigures the face, while a con- 
 sciousness of this painful truth increases the 
 evil, without giving power to remove it. Pain, 
 therefore, is rauhiphed by pam, and the end 
 in view is thrown at a greater distance even 
 by the attempt to obiam it." And in the pic- 
 ture, which this highly gifted woman draws, 
 of the competition of a ball-room, — this pic- 
 ture, as she calls it, of the history of a child — 
 sho sees, as she expresses it, a foundation of 
 the sorrows and disappointments of mankind 
 in general ; and confirms with her valuable 
 opinion, my own belief, that competition, in 
 one way or another, is the operating cause of 
 most of the evils, the sins, and the disappoint- 
 ments of life. 
 
 It has been said, that the enmities between 
 near relations are the most deadly, because 
 of the close collision into which they are 
 brought, and thence, I believe, their jealousies 
 are the greater also, i am not alluding now 
 to the nearest and dearest ties, though I 
 have seen mothers jealous of their daughters, 
 fathers jealous of their sons, uncles of their 
 nephews, aunts of their nieces, and brothers 
 and sis ers of each other ; but I allude to the 
 competition which exists, unconsciously to 
 themselves perhaps, between branches of the 
 same family and its more distant members, 
 such as cousins of different degrees of parenty ; 
 and if any celebrity be grafted in one of the 
 branches, the jealousy of the others shows it- 
 self often in detracting observations. In brc- 
 
32 DRTRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 thers and sisters, in a few instances, however, 
 I have observed a contrary tendency, and a 
 more amiable modification of self-love^ for I 
 have known them idohze, and flatter each 
 other to such an extent, seh-love blowing the 
 flame of natural aft'ection to such a pernicious 
 height, that with a sort of exclusiveness and 
 royalty of pretension, the only competition 
 which they could admit for these idols of their 
 heart was, with the paragons of all ages and 
 countries, and they were ready to assert the 
 right of their nearest of kin, to be not only the 
 most lovely and graceful of their species, but 
 '' the wisest, virtuousest, discretest, best" 
 
 But much oftener 1 have been disappointed 
 at finding my commendations of one part of a 
 family, received by another part of it with 
 striking coldness, and lowering remarks made 
 upon those, who ought to have been to the 
 speakers sources of gratification, as well as ob- 
 jects of affection : but the detractors probably 
 wished to be Jirst in importance in their own 
 famihes, and were painfully alive to the sense 
 of having failed in a competition, which, till 
 they were outdone, they were not conscious of 
 havingfelt. 
 
 The same aversion to acknowledge superi- 
 ority in those with whom the allotments of 
 life oblige us to associate, occasions the cold- 
 ness with which the fame, literary or other- 
 wise, of their old and intimate friends is re- 
 ceived by persons in general . It is the voice 
 of strangers, and never of associates, that con- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 33 
 
 ters distinction on the fearful pretender to pub- 
 lic notice. 
 
 How often have those compositions, which, 
 when shown to the eye of friendship in nr»anu- 
 script, have met with the warmest encomium, 
 been beheld by the same persons with indif- 
 ference or contempt, and even not read at all, 
 when they have been submitted to the public 
 eye, and received with marked approbation ? 
 And to what can this be imputed, but to a 
 feehng of jealousy, however veiled by self- 
 love and other circumstances, from the con- 
 sciousness of the persons actuated by it ? We 
 all are fond of patronising, and we are wilHng 
 to praise where our praise b»^stows distinction 
 and excites gratitude. We have no aversion 
 to see others enjoy a degree of celebrity, if it 
 be derived from our commendations and no- 
 tice ; but when those who have first been rais- 
 ed into reputation by our encomiums be- 
 come independent of us, and are distinguish- 
 ed by an ad^niring world, we have a mean 
 pleasure in withholding that tribute from 
 them in heir celebrity, which we were wil- 
 ling to give them in their obscurity, are ready 
 to retract our opinion of th^ir alents, and apt 
 to listen to their praises m painful silence, or 
 reply to them with criticism, the most severe, 
 if not the most unjust. 
 
 The pride of nature shrinks from owning 
 for superiors, those who have hitherto been 
 our inferiors only or our equals. Few persons 
 can bear to suppose that their intimate com- 
 panions are of more consequence than they 
 
34 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 themselves are, even for powers which they 
 are not desirous of possessing, and they envy 
 the fame which is the resuh of certain talents, 
 though they do not envy the talents them- 
 selves. 
 
 The following well-known anecdote from 
 Plutarch will not be irrelevant here. 
 
 " At the time that Aristides was banished, 
 when the people were inscribing the names 
 on the shells, it is reported that an illiterate 
 burgher came to Aristides, whom he took for 
 an ordinary person, and giving him his shell, 
 desired him to write Aristide upon it. The 
 good man, surprised at the adventure, asked 
 him whether Aristides had ever injured him. 
 No, said he, nor do I even know him, but it 
 vexes me to hear him every wh» re called the 
 Just,^^ Now, this Athenian was in no sort of 
 particular rivalship with that great and vir- 
 tuous man, but he hated him for his superiori- 
 ty and good name ; and such is the obliquity of 
 human nature, that I fully believe, a degree of 
 the feeling that actuated this Athenian, is often 
 awakened amongst us by the succeses and the 
 reputation of our associates and friends. I beg 
 leave to indulge myself with telling the rest 
 of this anecdote. '* Aristides made no answer 
 but took the shell, and having written his own 
 name on it returned it to the man, and when 
 he quitted Athens, this Chritian Htaihen 
 lifted up his hands towards heaven, and pray* 
 ed for his enemies ; prayed that the people of 
 Athens might never see the day which shouW 
 force them to remember Aristides." 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 35 
 
 The following extract, from the nineteenth 
 number of the Spectator, on envy, paiticularly 
 on the envy which a successful anthor excites, 
 will I trust amuse my readers. 
 
 " But keeping in the common road of life, I 
 shall consider the envious man with relation 
 to these three heads, his pains, his reliefs, and 
 his happiness. Then evious man is in pain on 
 all occasions which ought to give him plea-, 
 sure. The relish of his life is inverted ; and 
 the objects which administer the highest satis- 
 faction to those who are exempt from this pas- 
 sion, gives the quickest pangs to persons who 
 are subject to it : all the perfections of their fel- 
 low-creatures are odious. Youth, beauty, 
 valour and wisdom, are provocations of their 
 displeasure. What a wretched and apostate 
 state is this ! to be offended with excellence, 
 and to hate a man because we approve him ! 
 The condition of the envious man is the most 
 emphatically miserable : he is not only incapa- 
 ble of rejoicing at another's merit or success, 
 but lives in a world where all mankind are in 
 a plot against his quiet by studying their 
 own happiness and advantage. Will Prosper 
 is an honest tale-bearer, he makes it his busi- 
 ness to join in conversation with envious men. 
 He points to such a handsome young fellow, 
 and whispers that he is secretly married to a 
 great fortune ; when they doubt, he adds cir- 
 cumstances to prove it, and never fails to ag- 
 gravate their distress by assuring them that to 
 his knowledge he has an uncle who will leavo 
 him some thousands. 
 
36 DETRACTION DJSPLAVED. 
 
 " Will has many arts of this kind to torture 
 this sort of temper, and delights in it. When 
 he finds them change colour, and say faintly 
 they wish such a piece of news is true, he 
 has the malice to speak some good or other of 
 every man of their acquaintance. 
 
 " The reliefs of the envious man are those 
 httle blemishes and imperfec tions that discover 
 themselves in an illustrious character. 
 
 " It is matter of great consolation to an en- 
 vious person, when a man of known honour 
 does a thing unworthy of himself, or when any 
 action, which was well executed, upon better 
 information appears so altered in its circum- 
 stances, that the fame of it is divided among 
 many, instead of being attributed to one. This 
 is a secret satisfaction to these malignants ; for 
 the person whom the)' before could n«'t but ad- 
 mire, they fancy is nearer their own condition, 
 as soon as his merit is shared among others, 
 
 *' I remember some years ago there came 
 out an excellent poem without the name of the 
 author. The little wits, who were incapable 
 of writmg it, began to pull in pieces the sup- 
 posed writer. When that would not do, they 
 took great pains to suppress* the opinion that 
 it was his. That again failed. The next 
 refuge was to say it was overlooked by one 
 man, and many pages written wholly by ano- 
 ther. An honest fellow, who sat among a clus- 
 ter of them in debate on this subject, cried 
 out, " gentlemen, if you are sure none of you 
 yourselves had a hand in it, you are but where 
 you were, whoever writ it," But the most 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 37 
 
 usual succour to the envious, in cases of name- 
 less merit in this kind is to keep the property, 
 if possible, unfixed, and by that means to hin- 
 der the reputation of it from falhng on any 
 particular person. You see an envious man 
 clear up his countenance, if, in the relation of 
 any man's great happiness in one point, you 
 mention his uneasmess in another. When he 
 hears such a one is very rich he turns pale ; 
 but recovers when you add that he has many 
 children. In a word, the only sure way to an 
 envious man's favour is, not to deserve it. 
 But if we consider the envious man in dehght, 
 it is like reading of the seat of a giant in a ro- 
 mance ; the magnificence of his house consists 
 in the many limbs of men whom he has slain. 
 If any who promised themselves success in 
 any uncommon undertaking, miscarry in the 
 attempt, or he that aimed at what would have 
 been useful and laudable, meets with contempt 
 and derision, the envious man, under the co- 
 lour of hating vain glory, can smile with an 
 inward wantonness of heart at the ill effect it 
 may have upon an honest ambition for the 
 future. 
 
 " Having thoroughly considered the nature 
 of this passion, I have made it my study how 
 to avoid the envy that may accrue to me from 
 these my speculations ; and if I am not mis- 
 taken in myself, I think I have a genius to es- 
 cape it. Upon hearing, in a coffee-house, one 
 of my papers commended, I immediately ap- 
 prehended the envy that would spring from 
 that applause ; and therefore gave a description 
 4 
 
3S DETRACTION DISPLAYED* 
 
 of my face the next day ; being resolved, as I 
 grow in reputation for wit, to resign my pre- 
 tensions to beauty. This, I hope, may give 
 some ease to those unhappy gentlemen, who 
 do mej:he honour to torment themselves upon 
 the account of this my paper. As their case 
 is v€ry deplorable, and deserves compassion, 
 I shall sometimes be dull, in pity to them, and 
 will from time to time, administer consolations 
 to them by further discoveries of my person. 
 In the meanwhile, if any one says the Specta- 
 tor has wit, it may be some relief to them to 
 think that he does not show it in company. 
 And if any one praises his morality, they may 
 comfort themselves by considering, that his 
 face is none of the longest." 
 
 I believe competition is never so dangerous 
 as when it is between married people, and I 
 have always admired the wisdom of those hus- 
 bands and wives who never venture to play 
 chess together. But, if the collision of ability 
 in a single game of chess be replete with dan- 
 ger to wedded harmony, how much more so 
 the competitions of authorship ! and while I 
 presume to advise authors and authoresses not 
 to marry each other, I give the following ex- 
 tract from Dr. Young's Universal Passion, tO' 
 strengthen my advice. 
 
 ** But not in shades the Muses smile alone, 
 Their sacred force Amelia feels in town; 
 
 ******** 
 
 Nought but a genius can a genius fit, 
 
 A wit herself, Amelia weds a wit. 
 
 'Tis said that miracles will never cease -, 
 
r 
 
 DETRACTION DISPLAYED; 3d 
 
 Three days, three wondrous da)'s they liv'd in peace, 
 On the fourth raorn a warm dispute arose 
 On Durfey's poetry and Bunyan's prose ; 
 The learned war both wage with equal force, 
 And the fifth morn concluded the divorce." 
 
 I have asserted in a preceding page, that 
 some persons, from a feeling of jealous com- 
 petition, undervalue and speak loweringly of 
 the merit and ability of their relations ; while 
 the failing of others is to praise and overrate 
 every one that belongs to them. The follow- 
 ing anecdote illustrates these contrasted ope- 
 rations of self-love in a peculiar degree. " I 
 was sitting one morning with a lady, (said a 
 friend of mine) who was remarkable for speak- 
 ing of her relatives in a lessening and com- 
 plaining manner, and to whom their praises 
 were evidently unpalatable ; so much so, that 
 I had long ceased to commend them in her 
 presence, and I attributed this weakness to a 
 sore self-love which brought itself forward 
 in competition, where no one else could see 
 any ground for it. Soon after I was seated, 
 another visiter came in, and thinking herself 
 privileged to find fault with the lady's rela- 
 tions, even in her presence, as she had heard 
 her speak ill of them herself, she talked of 
 them in very lowering terms, while I sat in 
 uneasy silence, disgusted at the coarse daring 
 of the detractor, and dreading to hear the perr 
 son addressed join in the detraction. But, on 
 the contrary, she not only eagerly defended 
 the accused, but lavished on them the kindest 
 lencomiums, and showed such just indignation 
 
40 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 at the severity of the detractor, that she was 
 glad to shorten her visit." " How I have en- 
 joyed the correction which you gave that rude 
 woman ! (said I, vvhen she was gone) and I am 
 glad to find that your opinion of those whom 
 she censured, is so happily changed." <* It is 
 not changed at all," she bluntly replied ; " I 
 think just as ill of them as ever, but no one 
 shall presume to find fault with my relations 
 in my presence : I think it is taking a great 
 liberty with me ; it is an affront to my dignity \ 
 for, however ill I may think of my relatives, 
 no one has any right to abuse them in my hear- 
 ing, and I shall defend them to the utmost.'^ 
 O ! poor human nature ! thought I, when I 
 heard this anecdote Here was salf-love at its 
 climax ; this person was induced to violate, un- 
 blushingly, what she believed to be the truth, 
 and commend those to whom she thought no 
 commendation was due, not from the amiable 
 impulse of natural aflfection, but from the sor- 
 did impulse of st^lf-love ! the influence, as I 
 may call it, of the pronoun possessive, " my 
 and mine." 
 
 Having thus alluded to the pronoun posses- 
 sive and its influence, I beg leave to digress, 
 and say here what I had once intended to say 
 on this subject in a publication by itself. 
 
 I shall now recapitulate what has been said 
 in this chapter. 
 
 That the competition between party-giving 
 ladies of all ranks in a metropolis is well 
 known, — that even there, the bitterness of the 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 41 
 
 rivalry depends on the closeness of the com- 
 petition. 
 
 That competitions in dress, style of living, 
 and dinner-giving, are probably greatest in a 
 country town. 
 
 That competitions in a public ball-room, or 
 wherever rival talents are displayed, have a 
 hurtful tendency. 
 
 That competitions amongst near relations, 
 from the closeness of the collision, excite the 
 greatest detraction. 
 
 That competitions in chess- playing, or ta- 
 lents of any kind, between husbands and wives, 
 are dangerous to connubial happiness. 
 
 And lastly, as a digression growing out of 
 the subject, I express my intention to make 
 some observations on the influence of the pro- 
 noun possessive. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ON THE PRONOUN POSSESSIVE. 
 
 There is no pronoun, except it be the pro- 
 noun personal, that is so fond of going into 
 company and playing the first fiddle there as 
 the pronoun possessive. The latter is as om-. 
 nipotent as any fairy of old, for it has a trans- 
 forming power, , against which we cannot be 
 too much on our guard, since it sometimes 
 throws over every person'and every thing that 
 belongs to us, a lustre which may be mere de- 
 4^^ 
 
42 BETRACTION DISPLATED. 
 
 lusion, like the mirage on the sea-shore. That 
 " 1" is a hero, we have long known, from 
 good authority, " and I the little hero of each 
 tale," says the poet of good sense ; but then I 
 must consider my or //<me as a hero also ; nay, 
 I nust own that I feel his influence so much, 
 and he forces himself so continually into my 
 conversation, against my sense of propriety, 
 that, m revenge, I have resolved to hold him 
 and his darinji up to public reprehension. It 
 is in vain that 1 say to myself why should I 
 talk of myself] Who cares about my symp- 
 toms, my invitations, or my acquaintances, 
 my works, or my plans, or any thing belong- 
 ing to me, or whether my relatives or friends 
 be sick or well, alive or dead, promoted or 
 transported ? Yet, that tyrant mij is always 
 forcing me to talk of somebody or something 
 belonging to myself, and probably of no inter- 
 est whatever to any one who hears me ! 
 
 But though this egotism, or rather meum- 
 ism is dangerous, so far as it may make me 
 laughed at, and lead others into the snare of 
 laughing at me as soon as my back is turned, 
 or even before ; (and it is no new thing to me, 
 to be laughed at in my presence,) this is not 
 the cuost dangerous part of the influence of 
 the pronoun possessive ; it is most dangerous 
 when it blinds us to the defects of all who be- 
 long to us ; when it elevates their charms, ta- 
 lents, and virtues, to a height pernicious both 
 to us and to themselves, by feeding our self- 
 consequence, and theirs also, filling us with a 
 degree of family arrogance fatal to the charac- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. <|^ 
 
 ter of a humble Christian ; yet, who that have 
 ever looked into themselves, or ever regarded 
 others with observing eyes, but must be sen- 
 sible of the power of the pronoun my and 
 mine, in Httle as well as great things, and will 
 not own that the following fable, written by 
 that accurate judge of nature, (Esop, one of 
 tl>e earliest friends of youth, is a faithful pic- 
 ture of the delusions of self-love, and of the- 
 pronoun possessive ? 
 
 THE EAGLE AND THE OWL. 
 
 The Owl and Eagle, once were apt to quarrel ; 
 
 But, wiser grown they long'd for peace. 
 
 1 know not which of them obtained most laurel; 
 
 But, as both thought that war had better cease. 
 
 The one on a king's honour swore, 
 
 And by an owl's the other, 
 
 That they, sweet peaceful souls, 
 
 Would, from that moment, ever more, 
 
 All sparks of former hatred smother; 
 
 And ne'er, though hungry, kill and eat 
 
 Each other's Utile ones, however sweet. 
 
 But let the eaglets live, and tiny owls. 
 
 But, in the head of wisdom's bird, 
 
 Popt this saae question — " Though thy word. 
 
 Dear friend, I doubt not, fain I'd learn 
 
 (Andlhcu the reason wilt discern) 
 
 Whether the race of owls, and most my own, 
 
 To thee are personally known." 
 
 *' No I" cried the Eagle, " none ere met my sight' 
 
 '* Then," cried the mother, in a fright, 
 
 " For my sweet little ones I tremble !" 
 
 *' Why so, dear friend .'" the Eagle said, 
 
 " Suppress this foolish dread ; 
 
 Tell me what tjwlets most reserabTe , 
 
44 DETRACTION blSPLAYEI?* 
 
 Describe them so as I may know them, 
 
 (Thy own especially) and I'll forego them. 
 
 Nay I may I from my throne be hurl'd, 
 
 If I would kill tl^y dears for all the world !" 
 
 The owl bow'd low, and on her heart 
 
 Her claw in gratitude she laid ; . 
 
 And then, with fond, deceptive art, 
 
 Her young ones thus pourtray'd — 
 
 " My dears are always small, well made, and beautifuT^ 
 
 All other owls above, as well as dutiful. 
 
 Thou, by their beauty, will at once 
 
 Know them for owls, and wilt be sure they Ve mine, 
 
 Therefore thou wilt to spare them all incline, 
 
 Nor on their lovely forms destroying pounce." 
 
 The Eagle then repeated to himself, 
 
 (Not knowing she for Dresden took her Delf) 
 
 ** Small, beautiful, well made .' 
 
 ! without further aid, 
 
 1 now must know them, and if e'er I meet them,, 
 As Pm a gentleman, I will not eat them." 
 
 " Thanks !" cried the Owl, and bade good bjc^ 
 
 "While her friend soar'd along the sky ; 
 
 And she into a hole retir'd 
 
 Within a moss-crown'd rock ; and there, 
 
 Ere many days expir'd, 
 
 She gave the owlet darlings birth, 
 
 Sweet objects of her tender care, 
 
 Whom, ere they grac'd the earth, 
 
 She bade her dread ally, the Eagle spare. 
 
 And he, in truth, of noble nature. 
 
 Would have rejoic'd to spare each owlet creature,, 
 
 Had not the weakly partial owl, 
 
 Quite blinded by the strong control 
 
 Of MY and MINE, the pronoun called possessive. 
 
 Described her ugly race as fraught with every grace^ 
 
 And fam'd indeed for beauty e'en excessive. 
 
 But this maternal and too common blindness 
 
 Made vain the royal bird's intended kindness; — 
 
 For when, one luckless day, 
 
 Upon his sounding wings 
 
 He sought for prey 
 
 Within the hole upon the rock, 
 
 And spy'd some wry-nosed, croaking things. 
 
 liig-eyed and hideous. 
 
 And with heads so prodigious, 
 
I 
 
 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 45 
 
 They gave his feelings quite a shock, 
 
 He could not think he saw those birds so preifj/^ 
 
 Whom he was taught to admire as well as pity .; 
 
 ^' No, no," said he, 
 
 *' These cannot be 
 
 The owlets I was ask'd to spare ; 
 
 These monsters, and not beauties, are^ 
 
 And, with their ugliness o'erpower'd, 
 
 I think them only fit to be devoured ; 
 
 So, sans f aeon, I shall upon them sup ;" 
 
 Then, in a trice, they all were eaten up ! 
 
 When the too partial owl returned, 
 
 And found the nest bereft ; 
 
 And, of tlie forms she left, 
 
 Nought but the bony feet retnaining, 
 
 Oh ! loud indeed was he complaining ; 
 
 And like another Niobe she mourned. 
 
 Then to the gods the sufferer went, 
 
 In hopes Minerva, her protector, 
 
 Would in her sorrows not neglect her ; 
 
 But bring to punishment condign, 
 
 The false destroyer of the owlet line. 
 
 *' No !" cried iVflincrva, " Vm too just for that 5 
 
 Thou hast io blame thyself, 
 
 Vain-glorious elf! 
 
 For thy poor owlets' most untimely fate ; 
 
 Thou bad'st the royal bird expect to find 
 
 In them the brightest of the feather'd kind, 
 
 And when he monsters saw, instead of beauties^, 
 
 (As he declares in self-defence,) 
 
 How, in the name of common sense. 
 
 Could he believe he saw thy dears? 
 
 Therefore, with no misgiving fears, 
 
 He thought it one of his first duties 
 
 To put an end to such a frightful race. 
 
 Know then, poor injured one, though hard's thy case, 
 
 'Tvvas not the royal bird's unkindness 
 
 That kili'd thy darlings, but their mother's blindness. 
 
 Before thy partial sight 
 
 They seem'd so fair and bright. 
 
 Merely because they oft^ipring were of thine-; 
 
 The loss thou'rt doom'd to moan 
 
 Was caus'd by the resistless sway 
 
 Of that imperial pronoun, 
 
 Which all the vain obey : 
 
 Henceforth, be on thy guard 'a«faihst mv and'iilTK'.'' 
 
4t) DKTUACTION DISPLAYED^. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE SUBJECT RESUMED. 
 
 I SHALL now return to my subject. As com- 
 petition is always great, as I have said before^ 
 in proportion to its closeness, contemporaries, 
 that is, those who are of the same age and 
 standing in society, come into the most imme- 
 diate competition, and are therefore likely to 
 yield to the temptations consequent on rival- 
 ry. I have often heard both men and women, 
 who have readily admitted the worldly pros- 
 perity, the charms,^ the talents, and virtues, of 
 those who were avowedly older or younger 
 than themselves, speak doubtfully of the as- 
 serted pretensions of their immediate contem- 
 poraries ; and if it is remarked that they are 
 very young looking for their age, the respond- 
 ents have hesitatingly said, " Do you think so ? 
 I cannot say I am of that opinion ;" adding, 
 ** No, I think they look full as old as they are. 
 Let me see ! we were at school together, and 
 I know I was at least by two or three years 
 the youngest." 
 
 There is also an obvious jealousy amongst 
 persons of talent and acquirement residing in 
 a country town. Those who are accustomed to 
 be the oracles of their own circle, '^ bear, like 
 the Turk, no brother near the throne." (though 
 
Detraction displayed, 4ll 
 
 liiere are sometimes honourable exceptions to 
 this general rule,) and are apt to judge with 
 harshness, and deny the claims of any new 
 competition for listeners and admirers. But, 
 with what severity, and even contempt, do 
 men and women, who pique themselves on 
 their reasoning faculties and powers of argu- 
 mentative conversation, regard those amongst 
 their acquaintance, whose talents are of a dif- 
 ferent nature, especially if the exertion of their 
 talents has given them any reputation in the 
 world, while they are unconscious, probably, 
 that their low estimation of the merit of their 
 associates -is caused by a feeling of rivalry — 
 ^« How can that be ?' they might indignantly 
 exclaim, *' our abilities are not of the same 
 kind." No, but in the narrow circle in which 
 they meet, they are competing for notice, ad- 
 miration, and importance, and much of Dr. 
 Goldsmith's feeling, mentioned in the preced- 
 ing pages, is at work in them ; they, therefore, 
 are under the influence of particular compe- 
 tition. " Two of a trade cannot agree," says 
 the proverb ; but it is equally true, though not 
 generally felt, and therefore not sufficiently 
 guarded against, that we are as liable to feel 
 envy and jealousy of those whose abilities are 
 wholly different to our own, as of those who 
 possess the same gifts as ourselves ; only in 
 this latter case the jealousy is stronger and 
 conscious, in the other it is often unconscious ; 
 but, unconscious it would not continue to be, 
 if we were all in the salutary habit of fer- 
 reting out our secret motives, and could bear to 
 
48 DETHACTION DiSPLAfED. 
 
 contemplate " that ugly thin^, a naked human 
 heart." 
 
 Competition for the attribute called feeling 
 or sensibility, leads as constantly to ungene- 
 rous detraction as any other. This is a quality 
 which all persons arrogate to themselves, but 
 rarely allow their relatives, friends, or ac- 
 quaintances, to possess in an equal degree. 
 
 How common are the following observa- 
 tions : " Yes — she is a worthy woman, but I 
 am sure she has but very little feeling ;^^ and 
 " Yes ! I dare say he is a good man, but his 
 sensibility will never hurt him." " How dif- 
 ferently I should have behaved or felt under 
 such circumstances.'' Here the detraction is 
 evidently the result of the speaker's entering 
 into competition with the party spoken of on 
 the score of feeling. And this is an openly 
 avowed species of competitionship. Yet sure- 
 ly, there is as much vanity displayed by the 
 assumption of superior sensibility, as if one 
 declared one's belief of being wiser or hand- 
 somer than one's neighbours ; and to assert our 
 superiority in any thing is a proof of self-con- 
 ceit ; still, there is an injustice commonly com- 
 mitted, on which I must observe, namely, that 
 of considering persons of literary gifts and at- 
 tainments as more vain and conceited than any 
 other description of persons. But is this cen- 
 sure just ? I will put this case. If an author 
 were to talk of his own works in company, 
 and speak of them and their usefulness with 
 high commendation, he would deserve to be 
 called offensively vain ; but suppose another 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 49 
 
 gentleman present should say, how shocked 
 he had been at such a person's want of feeUng, 
 adding, "how differently I should have be- 
 haved under such a trial, but then, few per- 
 sons feel acutely as I do !" would it not be 
 very unfair to say the author was more 
 vain than he was ? the objects of their vanity 
 were certainly different, but its degree the 
 same. Again, suppose an authoress were to 
 commend her own writings while with a party 
 of friends, and boast of her own superiority, 
 and that another Jady should soon after de- 
 preciate the notabihty and domestic know- 
 ledge of some woman of her acquaintance, 
 and describe her own superior cleverness ia 
 all domestic arrangements, asserting what a 
 manager, what a nurse, what a physician also, 
 she was upon occasions ! more than insinuating 
 that she was a paragon of perfection, in what^ 
 I admit, is the best knowledge of woman. I 
 beg leave to ask whether, ia such a case, the 
 company present would be justified in saying 
 that the authoress was the vainer of the two^ 
 and that the vanity of authors and authoresses? 
 was of the superlative degree ; and whether 
 truth would not demand, that the man of as- 
 sumed superior feeling, and the woman of as- 
 sumed superior notability, were not quite as 
 conceited as the author and authoress ; and yet, 
 it is probable, that the company present would 
 only be conscious of the vanity of the two 
 latter, and that the two former would be the 
 first to ridicule the excessive conceit of their 
 Hterarv associates. Yet, vaaitv is vanity, aad 
 5 
 
50 DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 
 
 conceit, conceit, whatever be the subject on 
 which they are displayed : and whatever those 
 persons arc who assert their own superiority, 
 they should be careful to speak with forbear- 
 ance of the conceit attendant on authorship. 
 
 But to resume my subject. Many persons 
 mischievously mistake irritability for sensi- 
 bility, and impute actions and sufferings to 
 feelings which in reality are the result of ill- 
 governed temper. I define irritability to be 
 an excess of self-love and sensibility of social 
 love. I have heard those whose peace of 
 mind is often disturbed by their unhappy tem- 
 per, assert that all good humoured persons are 
 without sensibility, and that where good tem- 
 per abounds, the feeUngs are comparatively 
 ' blunt : thus blinded by self-love, they impute 
 to excess of good feeling, what is, really, the 
 consequence of want of religious or moral re- 
 straint : and instead of endeavouring to see 
 themselves as they are, they impute to defect 
 the charm admired in others — therefore, as 
 their vanity leads them to consider their fault 
 as a proof of superior virtue, they have not the 
 necessary stimulus to conquer their besetting 
 sin. Irritability is often occasioned by weak 
 nerves and bodily infirmity : but whatever be 
 its cause, it frequently leads into detracting 
 observations ; and there is nothing that excites 
 uncandid judgment more, nor is a want of so- 
 ber-mindedness ever more conspicuous than 
 in the estimate which we form of the degree 
 of affliction exhibited by mourners. When 
 we visit the afflicted in tlw first davs of their 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 51 
 
 distress, their apparent degree of misery rarel} 
 equals our expectation, but if they are as much 
 subdued at first as wc suspected, still they 
 usually recover their spirits before they have 
 our permission ; and with no small complacen- 
 cy, we compare their rapidly-recovered cheer- 
 fulness, with what we believe would have been 
 our protracted sttfferings. We observe, " it 
 is amazing how soon Mr. or Mrs., or William 
 or Mary such a one, has recovered his or her 
 bereavement ! and how happy it is for somo 
 folks that they do not feel such things as others 
 do." The robber, Procrustes, used to tie the 
 travellers whom he conquered on a bed, and if 
 their length exceeded it, he caused their litnbs 
 to be cut off till they were of the just dimen 
 sions ; and if they were shorter, he had them 
 stretched till they reached its uttermost point. 
 A similar sort of tyranny is exercised by ob 
 servers on the afflicted. Mourners must express 
 their sorrow exactly as the observers do ; their 
 grief must be of the same dimensions, or they 
 cannot believe them to be mourners at all. One 
 says, " I called such a day on our friend so and 
 so, and I was surprised to find him or her so well! 
 He (or she) never once alluded to the deceas- 
 ed ! almost forgotten already, I dare say." 
 Another says, " I saw our friend such an one 
 yesterday, and it was surprising how inces- 
 santly he or she talked of the departed, and of 
 the affliction, and so on. For my part, I never 
 can talk of those I have lost, nor do I believe, 
 ^at those who feel a loss acutely ever emu 
 
52 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 1^0, no, such persons are never really affiicU 
 eri." Thus in the one case, no allusion to the 
 death or the dead is looked upon as an evi- 
 dence of want of proper feeling, and forget- 
 fulness of the bereavement ; and in the oiher^ 
 the garrulity of grief is considered as proof 
 of its non-existence or non-durability. But, 
 in both these cases, the judgment was equally 
 unkind, uncandid, and erroneous. The late 
 Henry Fuseli, speaking of the head of Buona- 
 parte, exclaimed in my presence, " O ! there is 
 no duplicate of that head in the world !" but 
 added immediately, " but, then to be sure, 
 there is no exact duplicate of any head and face 
 whatever !" I was struck with the observa- 
 tion at the time and never forgot it ; for it ap- 
 peared to me applicable to moral qualities and 
 feelings, as well as to faces and heads, par- 
 ticularly in appreciating the sensibility of 
 others. I have convinced myself that no two 
 persons feel the same thing alike ; and if there 
 be no duplicate of any head or face, neither is 
 there one of any mind, heart, or sensibility ; 
 consequently, all persons have a way of their 
 own of expressing what they feel, a different 
 way of venting their grief, and of comforting 
 themselves under it ; and it would be as nar- 
 row, invidious, and presuming, for any one to 
 say, that those who do not express, or conceal 
 their grief as we do, are our inferiors in proper 
 feehng, as it would be to assume that the 
 weather could not be warm because we felt it 
 cold, or that no one could think red and yel- 
 low fine colours, because thev were in our 
 
DEtkACTION DlSPtAVED, % 
 
 eyes ugly and gaudy. I believe that there aro 
 as many diversities of grief as of dress, as 
 many shades of sorrow as of colour, and tb() 
 great Physician has mercifully furnished as 
 many remedies for affliction as for diseases. 
 But detractors know not this. Unsubdued by 
 " the venerable presence of misery, ^^ — misery, 
 which if silent they distrust, and if garrulous 
 they distrust still more : they visit it not to 
 sympathize but to judge, and to compare their 
 own superior sensibility, with the supposevi 
 want of it in the object before them ; thus con- 
 verting the cypress of the bereaved into an or- 
 nament for their own vanity, and blessing 
 themselves, like the pharisee of old, that thev 
 are '' not as other men are." 
 
 I must here insert another proof of the natu- 
 ral love of distinction, and the common ten- 
 dency to competition, however unconscious ^ 
 Irj felt : — namely, that many are jealous, even 
 of superiority in the trials of life, and J 
 have been interrupted while expatiating on 
 the sorrows c»nd bereavements of some of my 
 friends, by thit> exclamation from another, 
 " Oh ! what are their trials to some I could 
 mention ; they ouyu to be thankful it is no 
 worse. Other people, as I bitterly feel, have 
 had much more to updorgo." And in physi- 
 cal inflictions I have seen the same desire ol 
 being supreme in suffcnng, and have heard 
 the sufferer exclaim witi. obviou:^ and strange 
 self-complacency : *' Oh ! but what are their 
 pains and agonies to mine !" and if this suppos- 
 ed supremacy of trial 'was not attended with 
 5* 
 
54 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 murmuring and want of proper resignation to 
 the divine will, one cannot be disposed to 
 grudge the victims of pain, the apparent com- 
 fort derived from this innocent competition. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ON PRECEDENCE, &C. 
 
 I COME now to an important and universal 
 species of competition. Important, I may in- 
 deed with propriety denominate it ; namely, that 
 o^ precedence. Who that has ever read the his- 
 tory of our own country, or that of others, but 
 must be well aware, that a disregard of the 
 right of an ambassador's precedence, or a de- 
 nial of his claims, has sometimes involved 
 kingdoms in war, and deluged the world with 
 blood ; affording one of the most melancholy 
 as well as most convincing proofs of that pride 
 of heart, disguised under the name of rights 
 of nations, which is odious in the sight of him 
 who is the " King of Kings," and of whom it 
 is said, that " he casteth down the mighty from 
 their seats, and exalteth the humble and 
 meek." But I shall confine myself to obser- 
 vations on the pernicious effect of this sort of 
 competition on the well-being of private life, 
 and the heart-burnings, the jealousies, and the 
 consequent detraction, which it is so apt to 
 produce^ Even amongst those whose rights 
 nre recorded in the Table of Precedence, there 
 
PETilACTION DiSPLAYEi). OO 
 
 is a possibility of dangerous mistakes, for 
 though the most ignorant giver of a dinner 
 knows that dukes and duchesses walk before 
 marquisses and marchionesses, and so on down 
 the list, still it requires some knowledge of 
 heraldry to remember the intricate distinc- 
 tions of the degrees of precedence amongst 
 their children. I remember the pain expe- 
 rienced by a good-natured man of my acquaint- 
 ance, on finding he had wounded the pride 
 and feelings of two noble ladies, by leading 
 out before them the lady of a baronet. But, 
 to my friend, a lady zs:as a lady, and to be 
 honoured, as he supposed, before the other 
 pretenders, who were simply mistresses, 
 though honourable preceded their names ; and 
 in confiding ignorance he led the dame down 
 to dinner before them, little dreaming of ** to- 
 morrow's fate." But, the next day, the mo- 
 ther of one of the ladies desired to speak to 
 him; and, with no little eagerness, though 
 with the manner of a true gentlewoman, re- 
 proached him for the affront which he had 
 
 passed upon the Honourable Mrs. A ; the 
 
 distressed host anxiously desired to know how 
 he had offended ; when, to his great surprise, 
 as well as dismay, he learned that it was by 
 giving a baronet's lady the precedence of the 
 vjrife of the younger son of an English earl ! 
 My poor friend could not deny the charge ; but 
 he apologized, promised to do so no more, and'**' 
 also promised, that when in the ensuing week, 
 Mrs. A. honoured him with her presence to 
 nearly the same party, he would take care to 
 
66 DETRACTION D19PLAYED. 
 
 ]et her precede every one else ; and the good 
 lady retired well pleased at having thus as- 
 serted the rights of her daughter. But my 
 friend had made a rash promise, for he had not 
 consulted Blackstone. Scarcely was this re- 
 prover gone, when he was told that Colonel 
 B wanted to see him on particular busi- 
 ness. My friend welcomed him with his 
 usual urbanity, but the Colonel was rather dis- 
 tant in his behaviour, and told him that he 
 called to require an explanation of the extra- 
 ordinary disregard of the rights of a noble lady, 
 which had been shown by him the preceding 
 day. " ! dear Colonel," replied the relieved 
 
 offender, " Mrs. has just been here, has 
 
 just shown me my error, the result of ignorance 
 only ; I have apologized, and when I have the 
 honour of seeing you all at a supper party here 
 next week, I have promised to give the pre- 
 cedence to the Honourable Mrs. A ." 
 
 *' To the Honourable Mrs. A ," exclaim- 
 ed the Colonel, in an angry tone, " what ! in 
 utter contempt of the rights of my wife !" My 
 poor friend was thunderstruck ; and with diffi- 
 culty faultered out, " but, Sir, I thought that 
 the lady of an earl's younger son's wife" — 
 <* Fiddlestick's end ! for an earl's younger son's 
 wife, Sir !" cried the indignant Colonel ; " my 
 wife is the eldest daughter of an English vis- 
 count, and what says Blackstone, vol. i, page 
 405 1" " I don't know, I never read Black- 
 stone." " The more shame for you. Sir ; well, 
 in his table of precedence, he says, that ' a 
 viscount's eldest son ranks before an earPs 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 57 
 
 younger son, and that the daughters of noble 
 families always rank with their eldest bro- 
 ther.' " " Does he, indeed, Sir?" exclaimed 
 my friend ; " well, Colonel, and what then 1" 
 *' What then, Sir ? why the Honourable Mrs. 
 
 B must lake the place every where of the 
 
 Honourable Mrs. A ; and if you again dis- 
 regard her just rights, into your house. Sir, 
 she shall never enter more." So saying, he 
 strutted out of the room, leaving my friend 
 convinced of the necessity of studying Black- 
 stone in future, before he invited to his house 
 the noble and the privileged. But it is not 
 amongst those who know their own privileges 
 to be ascertained beyond a doubt, that one sees 
 the greatest tenaciousness of precedence. It 
 is where rights are dubious, that withholding 
 what we imagine our due, wounds our self- 
 love and lowers our consequence, and that 
 granting it is a pleasing tribute to our pride, 
 it is no favour done to a lady of high rank to 
 give her the precedence ; she knows her right 
 and takes it, and no new feeling of gratified 
 pride is excited in her ; the most obvious and 
 uneasy clinging to precedence exists, where 
 there is no real right to it, and where an ap- 
 peal to Blackstone would be vain, because the 
 social existence of the appellants is not named 
 there. I mean amongst that numerous class 
 in society whose consequence is chiefly de- 
 rived from the fulness of their purses ; and I 
 have often observed the pain with which the 
 wives of Oipulent men in business have been 
 forced to give precedence to the poor daughter 
 
^8 DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 
 
 of a baronet or a knight. How often have I 
 heard this empty and only privilege grudged 
 to its possessor, and her pride and presumption 
 in accepting it, censured with an unsparing 
 tongue ! — competition, undoubtedly, in this in- 
 stance, prompting to the unkind, and I may 
 say unjust, detraction. How ofteti have I 
 found, on inquiry, when I have heard persons 
 of dubious rights to precedence speaking with 
 severity of the master of the house, where I 
 knew that they had recently been visiting, 
 that he had given precedence of the severe ob- 
 server to some neighbour, friend, or relative ; 
 unsuccessful competition being, in this in- 
 stance, again, the direct and undoubted source 
 of detraction. 
 
 The master of a house gives no proof of his 
 superior respect for his noble guests, when he 
 gives them the precedence due to their rank ; 
 he only shows his knowlege of the red book, 
 only acts according to heraldric rule. But 
 where the right of going first depends, as it 
 sometimes does, on the dinner-giver's own im- 
 pression of the consequence and standing in 
 society of the guest whom he selects, then the 
 self-love is called into action, and is gratified, 
 no doubt, in the person so preferred, and 
 wounded, no doubt, in those who believe they 
 had better right to the distinction. By uni- 
 versal consent, married women and married 
 men take place of single ones ; and no one, who 
 is not ignorant of the common laws of good 
 society, would lead the daughter of a merely 
 rich man out of the room, before the wife even 
 
-DETRACTION DISlPLAYED. 59 
 
 of a poor man ; and decided seniority in age is 
 a just right of precedence. But, if the gene- 
 ral wish of claiming that empty distinction, 
 which undefined precedence really is, must 
 continue to exist, and exist it will while pride 
 of heart remains, that common sin of unrege- 
 nerated nature, it were desirable that there 
 should be certain laws drawn up for the regu- 
 lation of precedence, in comparatively private 
 society ; and that the untitled, whose place is 
 not pointed out in Blackstone, should have a 
 table of precedence of their own. In this ta- 
 ble I should like to see places awarded to the 
 stranger, to the oldest : the next place to the 
 married, according to their imputed age ; but I 
 am afraid precedence granted on this supposition 
 would occasion even more heart-burnings than 
 the present mode ; and that when place is ac- 
 corded to age, it must be given on that plea to 
 those only to whom the epithet of old has long 
 ceased to be an appalling sound. 
 
 But let me not speak lightly on a subject 
 which should be treated with serious conside- 
 ration. It might be benericial, perhaps, to ask 
 ourselves, and those whose rights are not de- 
 fined, whence proceeds our tenaciousness of 
 precedence ? 
 
 Is it necessary to our peace to have it prov- 
 ed, as far as the circumstance of our preceding 
 others can prove it, that we are of more con- 
 sequence than the friends by whom we are 
 surrounded 1 if so, and they be as jealous of 
 respect as we are, it will not be likely to endear 
 the meeting to them, uiid caunot excite in 
 
60 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 them that kind expansion of heart and mind 
 towards all present, which can alone make any 
 part delightful. But where acknowledged pre- 
 cedence is awarded to those advanced in years, 
 or to the stranger, no wound is given, even 
 to the sorest self-love, as no one desires to 
 compete with any one in age, and the claims 
 of the stranger cannot come in any painful col- 
 lision with our own. But in what way and 
 for what are we desirous that the precedence 
 should be given us ? Is it to raise us in our 
 own estimation ? That would be unnecessary, 
 for no doubt we are too high in that already. 
 Is it to raise us in the estimation of others ? 
 That would also be unnecessary, if our right 
 to precede were properly founded : for if such 
 right were built on superior respectability of 
 character, and qualities of mind or heart, the 
 trumpery distinction of our being called on to 
 go first, or the trumpery circumstances of our 
 being improperly permitted to go last, would 
 not, could not, alter our real claim to distinc- 
 tion. 
 
 In short ; the jealousy of place is a feeling to 
 be struggled with as wholly at variance with 
 that lowliness of heart which is becoming the 
 sincere christian. Our great poet, in his Para- 
 radise Lost, has made the luve of supremacy, 
 of which precedency claimed and given is cer- 
 tainly a part, a distinguishing trait in the cha- 
 racter of Satan : he puts the following charac- 
 teristic words in his mouth : 
 
 '* Better to reign m hell, than serve in bearen," ' 
 
PETRACTlOiV DISPLAYED. 61 
 
 and whenever I hear of men or women, who 
 evidently prefer association with their inferiors 
 to the society of their superiors or equals, 1 am 
 forcibly reminded of this line ; and I believe 
 that the same sort of characteristic pride, which 
 it so aptly expresses, is at work in those indi- 
 viduals. 
 
 A foreigner complained to me the other day 
 of having had the right which he claimed of 
 leading a lady out, rudely wrested from him ; 
 adding with great energy, *' and is this your 
 boasted hospitality 1 Is this your kindness to 
 the stranger ? In my country strangers take 
 place of every one, even of the noble; but when 
 you invite a stranger to vour plentiful board, 
 by mortifying his pride, and wounding his 
 feelings, you take away from him all appetite 
 to eat." And I doubt not but many persons, 
 not foreigners, are daily feeling the same mor- 
 tification from a sense of unadmitted right to 
 precedence, though self-control and policy 
 have prevented them from expressing it, 
 which converts them from conversible into si- 
 lent g'lests, and from benevolent observers of 
 the table and the company, into uncandid and 
 satirical ones ; and where is the remedy 1 
 
 The case is, probably, of frequent occur- 
 rence ; and, as laws of precedence, except 
 amongst the titled, are arbitrary and undefined, it 
 must remain so. The only resource then, is hum- 
 bly to endeavour to anhihilate that unchristian 
 pride, which leads us weakly to desire prece- 
 dence, and still more weakly to resent its be- 
 ing withheld. There are some persons pro- 
 6 
 
t)2 DETRACTION DI8PLAYEI>. 
 
 bably, who have a pleasure in mortifying the 
 supposed pride of others, or think it their duty 
 to do so, by denying even their just preten- 
 sions ; and there are some who will do it from 
 mere ignorance and carelessness. But those 
 who have taught themselves to look upon such 
 distinctions with a humble and christian eye, 
 will be able to meet with equal indifference, 
 intended and unintended neglect. If distinc- 
 tion be given they will receive it without be- 
 ing elated, and if withheld they will not sink 
 into sullen and ignorant silence ; but will, on 
 the contrary, endeavour to give distinction to 
 the lower seat awarded to them, by cheering 
 their neighbours by their pleasant conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 I was led to make the foregoing observation 
 by recollecting an anecdote of a Spanish noble- 
 man, which is much to the point in question, 
 and. with which I shall finish my discussion on 
 precedence. 
 
 This gentleman invited a poor but honest 
 farmer to dinner, and when they were ready 
 to sit down, the master of the house insisted 
 that the farmer should place himself at the 
 head of the table ; but he obstinately refused; 
 the other persevered, saying he ought to com- 
 mand in his own house ; but the countryman, 
 piquing himself on his imagined civility and 
 good breeding, still persisted in not sitting 
 down, till the gentleman laying both his hands 
 on his shoulders forced him to sit, saying " sit 
 thee down, chaff- threshing churl I for let me 
 sit whero I will, that is the upper end to 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 63 
 
 thee ;" — and I would advise those who are not 
 disposed to consider pride as a sin, but on the 
 contrary as akin to a virtue, and therefore 
 cling with tenacity to the rights of precedence, 
 to console themselves, when those rights are 
 neglected or denied, with the remembrance of 
 this anecdote, and reflect that their rank, their 
 merit, and their agreeableness, remain just the 
 same, though they may be forced to follow 
 those whom they ought to precede, and in- 
 stead of sullen looks and silent tongue, let 
 them endeavour to prove themselves, if not 
 the first in consequence, foremost in what is 
 better far, agreeableness and good humour, 
 qualities which no red book can give, and no 
 human power can take away. 
 
 I must beg leave to add that the gospel en- 
 joins us always to choose the lowest places, 
 and none could be jealous of precedency, who 
 remembered and were influenced by the fol- 
 lowing injunction : ** But when thou art bid- 
 den, go and sit down in the lowest room." 
 
 I shall now recapitulate what has been said 
 in this chapter. 
 
 That precedence is one of the most import- 
 ant of competitions, as the denial of the claims 
 of an ambassador to precedence has sometimes 
 deluged nations with blood. 
 
 That in private life this sort of competition 
 excites many heart-burnings, and leads to envy 
 and detraction. 
 
 That the rights even of the privileged or- 
 ders, it is sometimes difficult to ascertain, with- 
 
64 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 out a knowledge of Blackstone ; and this is il- 
 lustrated by an anecdote. 
 
 That the greatest tenacity of precedence is 
 evinced by those whose rights to it are dubi- 
 ous, and whose claims (those of the merely 
 rich for instance,; are not acknowledged in 
 Blackstone. 
 
 That it were desira^ le for rules of prece- 
 dence to be drawn up, to regulate the claims 
 of those whose rights are not in the red book. 
 
 J hat it is right to give precedence to the 
 stranger, and the oldest in company. 
 
 That abroad, strangers at a party take place 
 even of the noble. 
 
 That it would be best to struggle with the 
 desire of precedence, as an unchristian feeling. 
 
 That it would be wisest to endeavour to be 
 indifferent to going first or last, and try, wher- 
 ever we sit, to make our part of the table the 
 most attractive, be it low or high, by the plea- 
 santness of our conversation — a charm no red 
 book can give or take away. 
 
 That the anecdote which I give is applica- 
 ble to the subject. 
 
 Lastly, that it were well to remember the 
 sacred injunction, to go, when bidden to a 
 feast, unto the lowest room. 
 
r 
 
 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 65 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 ON RELIGIOUS COMPETITION. 
 
 Having laid it down as a general principle, 
 that the feeling of competition is common to 
 every one, and that its results are envy and 
 detraction, it must be my firm belief that even 
 that class of my fellow-christians, who are 
 teachers of the word, cannot be wholly ex- 
 empted from the dangers incident to It ; but in 
 them, such feelings, I trust, are in some mea- 
 sure subdued, as soon as they are aware of 
 their existence ; and how can a humble, serious 
 christian, who performs the duty of seAf-ex- 
 ammation, and brings before his mind every 
 night not only the actions but the feelings 
 which he has experienced during the day, in 
 order to supplicate pardon, if they have been 
 sinful, and to return thanks, if they have been 
 pure, how can such a man have a feeling of 
 jealous competition without bemg conscious 
 of it? But, as he knows his disease, he also 
 knows his remedy. 
 
 I have been encouraged to make these re- 
 marks, by perusing a sensible and useful work, 
 called ** Christian Fellowship, or the Church 
 Member's Guide," by J. A. James. 
 
 In this work, the language of reproof shows, 
 that certain errors are apt to creep in even 
 6* 
 
 i 
 
66 DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 
 
 amongst the pious. But he shall speak for 
 himself. " It does not unfrequently happen, 
 that where two or more churches oi' the same 
 denomination exist in a fown, a most unhappy, 
 unscripturai, and disgraceful temper is mani- 
 fested towards each other. All the feelings of 
 envy, jealousy, and ill-will, are cherished and 
 displayed with as much or more bitterness, 
 than two rival tradesmen would exhibit in the 
 most determined opposition of mterests." 
 
 Again he says ; '* Let us not look with envy 
 and jealousy on the growing prosperity of 
 other societies. Let us not ccmsider their suc- 
 cess as in any degree encroaching upon ours, 
 if we succeed more in our own church, let us 
 be thankful but not boastful : if others take 
 precedence, let us be stirred up to affectionate 
 holy emulation, but not to envy and jealousy." 
 " Shall we feel mortified when immortal souls 
 are saved, because we were not the instru- 
 ments of their conversion ? Shall we say, if 
 we cannot gather them into the church, let 
 them not be gathered ? If two rival physi- 
 cians, who had each as much as he could do, 
 when the plajfue was raging in a town, looked 
 with envy and grudging on each other's suc- 
 cess, what should we say of their spirit ? But 
 such a temper, in these circumstances, is far 
 less criminal than the envious disposition of 
 some ministers and their flocks." 
 
 There should be a spirit of mutual affection 
 between the members of different churches ; 
 they should live as brethren ; and that this 
 might not be disturbed, they should avoid, 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYEI). 6T 
 
 when they meet in their respective social cir- 
 cles, ail invidious and uncharitable reference 
 to the others. 
 
 JNothing is more common than for the chris- 
 tians of one society to mak the circumstances 
 and faults of those of another the leading topics 
 of conversation " Ministers and leading per- 
 sons in the company should always set their 
 faces against this mischievous gossip. All 
 comparisons between the talents of the minis- 
 ters and the respectability of their churches 
 should be carefully abstained from." '' It is 
 right for every church member to be attached 
 to his own pastor; and he may very innocently 
 think, that his minister is the very best preach- 
 er in the town ; but it is insulting and mis- 
 chievous to express his opinion to those who 
 prefer another." I have copied the foregoing 
 extracts with more pleasure, because some of 
 the passages come in aid of what I have said 
 on the duty of every one to discourage tale- 
 bearing detraction. This impressive author 
 says, " Ministers and all leading persons in the 
 company should always set their faces against 
 mischieveous gossip;" but all gossip is mis- 
 chievous, and not only ministers, but every 
 One in a company should endeavour to lead the 
 conversation into better things ; and I feel as- 
 sured that this christian writer would fully 
 agree with me in opinion. He also discourages 
 criticism and comparison of the talents of mi- 
 nisters ; and as I intend to hold up this sort of 
 criticism to just reprobation, I feel fresh en» 
 teouragement to the task, while transcribing 
 
68 DETllACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 the above extracts. I hope that I shall not be 
 deemed presumptuous in having discussed the 
 certain temptations and probable errors of 
 christian ministers ; but I thought I could not 
 avoid alluding to them, as I feel a strong con- 
 viction that nothing is more likely to inter- 
 rupt watchfulness— that "watchfulness unto 
 prayer," so requisite even to the most spiritual 
 of teachers, as a belief that they are raised 
 above the weakness of other men, and that 
 though others may stumble, their footing is 
 secure. 
 
 I have entire unity of opinion with the sen- 
 timents of the following extract ; nevertheless 
 I believe, that though competition is not the 
 only source of detraction, its results are of the 
 most mischievous and most extensive nature, 
 and the envy which it excites is the most dan- 
 gerous and most incessant. *' Others there are 
 who use defamatory discourse, neither for the 
 love of news nor defamation, but purely for 
 love of talk; whose speech, like a flowing cur- 
 rent, bears away indiscriminately whatever 
 lies in the way ; and, indeed, such incessant 
 talkers are usually people not of depth enough 
 to supply themselves out of their own store, 
 and therefore, cannot let foreign accession 
 pass by them, no more than the mill, which is 
 always going, can afford any waters to run to 
 waste. I know we used to call this talkative- 
 ness ^feminine vice ; but to speak impartially, 
 I think, though we have given them the inclo- 
 sure of the scandal, they have not of the fault ; 
 and he that shall appropriate loquacity to wo- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 69 
 
 men, may, perhaps, sometimes need to light 
 Diogenes' candle to seek a man ; for it is pos- 
 sible to go into masculine company, where it 
 will be as hard to ed^e in a word, as at a fe- 
 male frossiping. However as to this particu- 
 lar of defammg, both the -exes seems to be at 
 a vie, and I tiiink he were a very critical judge 
 that couid determine between them. Now, 
 iest this latter sort of defamers should be apt 
 to absolve themsetves as men of hartnless in- 
 tentions, I shall desire them to consider, that 
 they are only more impertinent, not less inju- 
 rious. For though it be granted, that the proud 
 and envious are to make a distinct account for 
 their pride and envy, yet, as far as relates to 
 their neighbour, they are equally mischievous. 
 Anacreon, that was choked with a grape stone, 
 died as surely as Julius Caesar, with his three- 
 and-twenty wounds ; and a man's reputation 
 may be as well fooled and prattled away as 
 maliciously betrayed. Fame is a tender thing, 
 and seldom is tost and bandied about without 
 receiving some bruise, if not a crack ; for re- 
 ports, we know, like snow-balls, gather still 
 the farther they roll, and when I have once 
 handed it to another, how know I how he may 
 improve it?" 
 
 There is another class of zealous christians 
 and highly commendable to whom, but with 
 great humility, I would recommend constant 
 watchfulness over their own motives and 
 words; because their very virtue may lead them 
 to err, and make them forget awhile the *' de- 
 c^itfulness of the human heart" I mean that 
 
70 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 extensive class philanthropists, those who are 
 trying to do good, both spiritual and moral, in 
 every way, to all their fellow-creatures, who 
 associate and congregate in various public 
 meetings, and also in the closer and therefore 
 more dangerous collision of private committees. 
 There is great danger that a love of power 
 should creep in on all these occasions, that the 
 controversy of opinions should lead to angry 
 discussion, and that unsuccessful competition 
 should here, as in other cases, lead to unjust 
 judgment, animosities, backbitings, detraction, 
 and perhaps defamation. I believe it is im- 
 possible for any number of persons, men or 
 women, to meet together even for good, with- 
 olit evil being present with them ; and christian 
 purposes do not always ensure the existence 
 and continuance of a christian spirit. Per- 
 haps this remark may be deemed impertinent, 
 but the experience of others, if not my own, 
 has convinced me that warning is sometimes 
 needed even by the pious, and the benevolent. 
 Though it is not necessary for me to say more, 
 I could not be easy to say less ; and I cannot 
 conclude these observations better than by giv- 
 ing the following extract : — ** No man can be 
 eminent for purity, or even for moral virtue, 
 but he shall have many invidious eyes upon 
 him, watching for his halting ; and if any the 
 least obliquity can be espied, he is used worse 
 than the vilest malefactor ; for such are tried 
 but at one bar, and know the utmost of their 
 doom, but these are arraigned at every table, 
 in every tavern, and at such variety of judical 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 71 
 
 tures ; there will be as great variety of sen- 
 tences, only they concur in this one, that he 
 is a hypocrite^ and then what complacency, 
 what triumph have they in such a discovery. 
 There is not half so much epicurism in any of 
 their more studied luxuries, no spectacle af- 
 fords them so much pleasure, as a bleeding 
 fame thus lying at their mercy." 
 
 I shall conclude this section of my work 
 with another of JE sop's fables. 
 
 THE ASS AND THE LAF-DOG. 
 
 It is a strong and tenable position, 
 
 That, if we speak of man, or beast, 
 
 There's scarcely one, or very few at least. 
 
 Who does not fell the goad of competition. 
 
 At my assertion you, perhaps, miay sneer ; 
 
 But that wise man, nay, wisest man of old, 
 
 iEsop, who many a warning lesson told, 
 
 a fable wrote, in which he makes it clear, 
 
 That beasts can jealous be, and strive to vie 
 
 With other beasts : if you the fact deny, 
 
 Pray read this fable, first-rate of its class, 
 
 Anci caird,my friends, — the Lap-dog and the Ass. 
 
 \ 
 There was a gentleman of good renown, \ 
 
 Who dwelt, 1 fancy, in a country town, 
 And had a Lapdog, a most merry thing, 
 Black nos'd, like spaniel dogs, that pleas'd a king, 
 (That king I mean vrhose foolish conduct tries one. 
 Who ne'er said foolish thing, nor did a wise one,) 
 He had a donkey also, long-ear'delf I 
 Whom he permitted to enjoy himself 
 In a green paddock, at the end of which. 
 As the good gentleman was very rich. 
 And could afford himself indulgencies, 
 There was a smart alcove, with a veranda. 
 To shade his eyes from day's too strong effulgenciest, 
 And o'er it sweetest flowers were taught to wander. 
 There sat our gentleman to read or sleep, 
 While up his lap the little dog would creep, 
 
72 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 Whene'er his master dosM, 
 
 And there, h'ke dormouse, he reposM ; 
 
 Then, when he woke, with winning grace, 
 
 He would jump up and lick his face 5 
 
 Or, by some other fond caress, 
 
 His grateful tenderness express : 
 
 And then, the acme of his joy to show, 
 
 He ne'er would fail 
 
 To wag his tail, 
 
 And treat his master with a sharp bow vow. 
 
 So pass'd of man and dog, the summer hours, 
 
 But not unmark'd by him upon the grass, 
 
 The thistle-lovine ass, 
 
 "Whose heart the canker, envy, thence devours. 
 
 At length, he sought a neighbouring pond, and there, 
 
 Within its face, as in a glass reflected, 
 
 He all his features, and his face inspected ; 
 
 Then cried, " why surely, I'm as fair, 
 
 As that mean, little, noisy, caprring dog, 
 
 That's not much bigger than a fuH-siz'd hog ; 
 
 His ears are short, but mine are long, 
 
 So is my nose, and as to powers of song. 
 
 In my opinion, they could have no ear, 
 
 Who could the barking of that cur compare 
 
 With the pathetic and sonorous sound 
 
 Of my deep bray, that wakes the echoes round; 
 
 Yet, I must own, oui master is so blind, 
 
 And to that animal so strangely kind, 
 
 That ev'ry day one sees 
 
 The creature on his knees ; 
 
 And when he licks his face, 
 
 He gives him an embrace ; 
 
 If he puts out his paws. 
 
 Oh ! then such loud applause ! 
 
 But when he barks, and makes his odious din. 
 
 Then most he seems approving smiles to win ; 
 
 While I, unheeded, eat my grass, or roots, 
 
 Or, if I'm notic'd, when I dare draw nigh, 
 
 My master soon averts his eye. 
 
 And cries, go, get out of my way thou brute .' 
 
 Well, I'm resolv'd, I too will strive to please 
 My dear protector, by such tricks as these ; 
 He does not know how charming I can be 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. Td 
 
 He never saw me pve my foot to shake, 
 Nor in the air like dancer spring; 
 And I believe, I don't mistake, 
 "When I assert, he never heard me sing. 
 Then how can he admire, poor man, 
 The charms he never saw ? 
 I'll go upon a different plan, 
 And try upon myself to draw 
 The love and praise that short-Iegp^'d elf 
 Has, hitherto, attracted to himself" 
 So said, so done, and the next time, 'tis said, 
 His master came to seek his bower's green shade, 
 The donkey would not let him pass, 
 But such a caper gave upon the grass ; 
 Heels overhead. 
 That full of dread, 
 
 The good old gentleman made a swift retreat, 
 And too alarm'd to speak, ran to his seat ; 
 For bit by fly, call'd gad. 
 
 He thought the tumbling brute was grown quite mad ;> 
 And he thought so still more. 
 When setting up his bray or roar, 
 The donkey, mimic-like, 
 
 Held up his foot, less form'd to coax, than strike ; 
 And little made like tiny dogs to tap. 
 Then, rushing on his wond'rmg master. 
 Who little look'd for such great disaster, 
 Tried, vain attempt ! to sit upon his lap ! ^ 
 
 In short, could never lapdog, poodle, monkey, 
 I^ore fond and playful be, than was our donkey. 
 O ! what caresses and what melody ! 
 No wonder, that, too terrify'd to fly, 
 The gentleman cried out amain : 
 *' Will ! Thomas ! come this moment, or I'm slain." 
 Will, Thomas, heard and soon dislodg'd our hero, 
 Who look'd, and felt a Zero ; 
 But harder soon his plight. 
 His hand each sei-vant raises, 
 And stead of kind caress and grateful praises. 
 They rain down blows upon the luckless wight ; 
 Then to the stable dragg'd, no more a ranger 
 ia the green paddock, tie him to the manger ! — 
 There, in revenge for this unkind partiality, 
 What could our ass, poor Don Dismal ity, 
 Do you think, to save him from distraction, 
 Since for assault he could not bring an action : 
 7 
 
74 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 Know then, he tried to give his wrath relief, 
 
 By harsh remarks upon his cause of grief. 
 
 Against the lapdo!| he essayed, 
 
 IVIidst grooms, and men, and boys, to raise a faction, 
 
 By underrating the poor thing's pretensions, 
 
 And imputations, that were half inventions. 
 
 In short, the donkey plied that common trade, 
 
 I mean that common trade, yclept, detraction^ 
 
 And I begin and end, with this position. 
 
 The source from which detraction sprin^s^ 
 
 The power which imps its harpy wings ; 
 
 Is CHIEFLY UNSUCCESSFUL COMPETITION. 
 
 Recapitulation : — That ministers of the 
 gospel are, Hke other men, exposed to the dan- 
 ger of competition, and should therefore watch. 
 
 That they should also set their faces against 
 mischievous gossip. 
 
 That philanthropists, who are often in com- 
 petition at public meetings and committees, 
 should also be on their guard. 
 
 Lastly, by one of ^sop's fables, I illustrate 
 the power of unsuccessful competition. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 ON DETRACTION. ^ 
 
 \ViiAT is detraction 1 According to the de- 
 rivation of the word, it means to draw or take 
 from, alias to depreciate. The province of 
 detraction is to lessen the merit of persons, 
 objects, and things, by severe comments, by 
 finding fault, by ridicule, and by mimicry ; 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 75 
 
 relating degrading anecdotes of those whom 
 he wishes to lower. 
 
 Detraction is of two kinds, it may he acted 
 as well as spoken. I shall begin with the lat- 
 ter species, and endeavour to describe its va- 
 rieties. I endeavoured in my former chapter 
 to prove that general and particular competi- 
 tion, were, consciously or unconsciously, the 
 principal and most pernicious source of de- 
 traction, and I shall try to show, in some of 
 the following pages, in what manner a detract* 
 ing spirit endeavours to effect its purposes. 
 Though detraction is one of the most power- 
 ful rulers in society, it does not affect the pomp 
 of a sovereign ; it has no levees or gala days, 
 but it dehghts quite as much in the privacy of 
 a tete-a-tete, in the domestic circle of a large 
 family, or even more, perhaps, than in an as- 
 sembly of a more pubHc and extended nature. 
 A tea-party is proverbially said to be the fa- 
 vourite scene of" scandal; but though all scandal 
 is certainly detraction, it by no means follows 
 that all detraction is scandal, and the differ- 
 ence I think is this : scandal is an evil report 
 of a person's actions, and is detraction amount- 
 ing to defamation. But the detraction of 
 which I shall most especially and largely treat, 
 is lessening remarks on a person's qualities, 
 manners, and pretensions ; and many, I had 
 almost said all, indulge in this lowering con- 
 versation, who would shrink with conscien- 
 tious aversion from relating a tale of scandal. 
 Besides, however common scandal may be, it 
 never can be as common as detraction, in the 
 
76 DETRACTION DISVLAYEt). 
 
 sense in which I understand it, because the 
 arm of the law defends reputations in some 
 degree ; and those who injure the fame of man 
 or woman, run the risk of aaswering for their 
 fault before the bar of justice, or according 
 to the heathenish custom of worldly honour. 
 But mere dei raptors may wage their petty 
 war with the utmost security, against the ob- 
 jects of whom they may be consciously or un- 
 consciously envious, but they are certain of 
 enlisting others immediately on their side ; nor, 
 perhaps, are they at all aware that what ap- 
 pears to them nothing but a dehghtful way 
 of beguiling the time, is, in fact, an unwar- 
 rantable attack on the merits, respectability, 
 and rights of their fellow creatures — is, in 
 reality, the eviden' e and result of an unchris^ 
 lian spirit, and may certainly be ranked un- 
 der that solemnly-forbidden indulgence, evil 
 speaking. 
 
 Amongst the benefits to be derived from 
 general education, and the utmost cultivation 
 of the mind, amongst all classes, I consider a 
 probable diminution of detraction as one of 
 the greatest advantages. For when education 
 and acquirements become so general, that the 
 most modest of women need not fear to talk of 
 what she knows, and can converse on books 
 without the dread of being considered a blue- 
 stocking ; the tone of conversation will insen- 
 sibly become raised. At present, it is (may I 
 dare to assert it?) the ignorance of women in 
 general, that the narrow views in men occa- 
 sioned by the Jong habit of considering women 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 77 
 
 CIS unfit for rational conversation, which fills 
 provincial society, more especially, with de- 
 traction ; for the women when alone, and the 
 men when they join the women, haveno general 
 objects on which they can converse, after " la 
 pluie et le beau-temps'' have been sufficiently 
 discussed, except the gossip of the day, and 
 observations on the persons, dress, manners, 
 and morals perhaps of their associates. 
 
 DeLraciion is the readiest and the easiest 
 theme, therefore it is preferred ; but were both 
 sexes to be taught to feel that it is disgraceful 
 not to be willing and able to converse of better 
 things, (and this conviction must be the result 
 of universal education,) one's neighbours' faults 
 and follies, distresses, disgraces, or their more 
 unwelcome success, would cease to be brought 
 into discussion, even in the confidence of a 
 tete-a-tete, as the only means of killing time ; 
 and detraction, with its mischievous effects on 
 those who are its narrators, on those who hear 
 it, and on those who are its objects, would be 
 driven away from society with the contempt 
 and aversion it deserves 
 
 A lady at C , near London, instituted, 
 
 several years ago, a conversation party, which 
 was to meet at her house on a certain day, at 
 the begmning of every month ; a question of 
 morals was to be the subject discussed. She 
 designed this meeting for the benefit of her 
 young acquaintance of both sexes ; and the 
 female part of the audience were expected to 
 work for the poor while the gentlemen con- 
 versed. Any one was at liberty to propose a 
 
7S DETRACTION DISPLAVED. 
 
 question to the party then assembled, to be 
 discussed at the next meeting. These ques- 
 tions, which are always given in writing, are 
 deposited in a vase ; and one being drawn forth 
 by chance, is to be the subject debated when 
 they assemble again. Most of the speakers 
 are distinguished for their talents and piety. 
 It is a remarkable fact, that this conversation 
 party (as it is called) has for 25 years met un- 
 interruptedly, ever since the day of its insti- 
 tution ; as the lady, at whose house it always 
 assembles, desires her doors should be opened 
 for its reception, even when she is absent from 
 home. An analysis of each subject discussed 
 in the evening is written by some one present 
 and read at the commencement of the follow- 
 ing sitting. The friend who gave me this ac- 
 count, and who is worthy to partake and able 
 to describe its intellectual advantages, informs 
 me, that the first time of her being present 
 the question discussed was censoriousness, and 
 she wished I had had the benefit of hearing 
 what passed, as I might have turned it to the 
 profit of the book which I am writing. She 
 thinks, that if the whole of those proceedings 
 were published it would form an interesting 
 collection of moral essays, as the speakers are 
 most of them accustomed to composition, and 
 in the habit of instructing, enlightening, and 
 benefitting their fellow-creatures. 
 
 I do not mean, by giving the above account, 
 to invite any one to form a similar institution ; 
 though, if I lived at C , I should be desi- 
 rous of belonging to thivS ; but I have had plea- 
 
DETRACTION DlSPLAYiiP. 7d 
 
 ■3ure in reading such an instance of wise and 
 individual benevolence, displayed in her who 
 planned this meeting originally for the benefit 
 of youth, and has hitherto continued it with 
 successful perseverance. When her place here 
 shall know her no more, I feel assured that 
 her memory will be loved and cherished, and 
 that " many a youth, and many a maid," will 
 be able, probably, in after life, to trace some 
 pious feelings and some virtuous excitement, 
 whose influence has been blessed to them, to 
 these meetings at the house of their departed 
 friend, and will mention her name with re- 
 spectful love and grateful reverence.* 
 
 As I am desirous of profiting in this little 
 work, by the assistance of those far wiser than 
 I am, I shall give the following extract from 
 Archbishop Leighton, on the text, " Thou 
 shalt not bear false witness against thy neigh- 
 bour ;" for though, as I said before, " bearing 
 false witness " is in one sense the worst spe- 
 cies, the very climax of evil speaking, and goes 
 beyond, therefore, what 1 am treating of, still 
 there is, in this extract, so much that bears 
 immediately on my subject, and it contains 
 
 * Since I wrote the above, a reading party (as it is call^ 
 ed) has beea instituted in this city, by some of the young- 
 er members of the Society of Friends. At this meeting, 
 which takes place every three weeks, at different houses, 
 in regular succession, one of the young men reads aloud, 
 while the young women are employed in working for the 
 poor ; and between the intervals of reading, the conversa- 
 tion turns on what has been read. 
 
 It is one of the rules of this meeting, that their conversa' 
 sation f^hoxM boon fhincrf^, nfi(? not on prr^omr. 
 
80 DETRACTION DISPLAYEU- 
 
 such excellent, and I may add necessary, in- 
 struction, that I cannot forbear to lay it be- 
 fore my readers. 
 
 " Perjury, or false testimony, in a public 
 judiciary way, is, we see, by the express words 
 and letter of the c >mmand, forbidden, as the 
 highest and most heinous wrong of the kind ; 
 but under the name of this, all the other kinds 
 and degrees of offence against our neighbour's 
 good name are comprised : I , All private ways 
 of calumny and false imputation. 2. All un- 
 grounded and false surmises, or suspicions; all 
 uncharitable constructions of others* actions 
 and carriage. ^. Strict remarking of the faults 
 of others, without any calling to do so, or ho- 
 nest intention of their good, which appears, if 
 having observed any thing, that of truth is 
 reprovable, we seek not to reclaim by secret 
 and friendly admonition, but, passing by 
 themselves, divulge it abroad to others ; for it 
 is a most foolish self-deceit to think, that be- 
 cause that is not forged, but true, which thou 
 speakest, this keeps thee ivki^. of the command- 
 ment : no, thy false intention a»d mahce make 
 it calumny and falsehood in thee, although, 
 for the matter of it, what thou sayest be most 
 true : all thou gainest by it is, that thou dost 
 tumble and bemire thyself in the sin of ano- 
 ther, and makest it, possibly, more thine than 
 it is his own who committed it ; for, he may 
 be, have some touch of remorse who commit- 
 ted it ; whereas it is evident that thou delight- 
 est in it; and though thou preface it with a 
 whining and feigned regret, and semblance of 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED.. 81 
 
 pitying him, and add withal some words of 
 commending him in somewhat else ; this is but 
 the gilding and sugaring of the pill, to make 
 men swallow it the more easily, and thy bitter 
 malice pass unperceived. They that by theii* 
 calling ought to watch over the lives of others, 
 must do it faithfully and diligently, admonish- 
 ing and rebuking privately ; and where that 
 prevails not, they may, yea they ought, to do it 
 more publicly, but all in love, seeking no- 
 thing but the glory of God and the salvation 
 of souls. 4. Easy hearing and entertaining of 
 mis-reports and detraction, when others speak 
 them, Exod. xxiii, 1 : this is that which main- 
 tains and gives substance to calumny, other- 
 wise it would starve and die of itself, if nobody 
 took it in and gave it lodging. When malice 
 pours it out, if our eyes be shut against it, and 
 there be no vessel to receive it, it would fall 
 like water upon the ground, and could no 
 more be gathered up ; but there is that sam^ 
 busy humour that men have, it is very busy, 
 and yet the most have it, more or less, a kind 
 of delight and contentment to hear evil of 
 others, unless it be of such as they affect ; that 
 they readily drink in, not without some plea- 
 sure, whatsoever is spoken of this kind. The 
 ear trieth the words, as the mouth tasieth 
 the meat. Job xxxiv, 3 ; but, certainly, the 
 most ears are perverse and distempered in the 
 taste, as some kind of palates are, and can find 
 sweetness in sour calumny." '* They offend 
 that seek, in any kind, at the expense of the 
 good name and esteem of ethers, to increase 
 
82 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 their own ; who try, out of others' rurns^ 
 to make up themselves, and therefore puR 
 down as much as they can, and are glad to have 
 others to detract from the repute of their bre- 
 thren ; particularly, any that are in likelihood 
 to surpass and obscure them." 
 
 I have alluded to the bad effect of evil speak- 
 ing on those who hear it, and on those who 
 are its objects ; for, in the first place, detract- 
 ing conversation injures the utterers of it, be- 
 cause they are guilty of positive sin them- 
 selves in so speaking : in the second place it 
 injures those who hear it, because it is a snare 
 to them, and leads them by bad example in- 
 to commission of the same sin. In the third 
 place, it essentially injures the individuals 
 who are the objects of it ; for such a mutual 
 censure of persons with whom, perhaps, we 
 intimately associate, not only lessens them 
 in our opinion, but insensibly weakens our 
 regard for them, as we never can continue to 
 love those individuals whom we are daily con- 
 scious of having injured. Their kindness, 
 their smiles are a sort of reproach to our con- 
 science, and we become more eager than ever 
 to find out and to descant on their foibles, in or- 
 der to excuse to ourselves the change in our 
 sentiments. I believe that the only means by 
 which we can be certain of loving our friends 
 "with a strong and un variable regard is, never 
 to allow ourselves to talk of their failings, nor 
 even to think of them, if we can possibly avoid 
 it, except as a salutary warning to ourselves. 
 
 It is now time for me to give some exam* 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. ^3 
 
 \Aes of detraction. But I must premise, that 
 nothing is so likely to provoke a detracting 
 spirit, and lead to traducing observations, as 
 making any one the object of exaggerated 
 PRAISE ; and that I never heard either man or 
 woman declared, by some devoted friend or 
 kind relation, to be perfect ; that I did not 
 see the self-love of every one who heard it up 
 in arms ; and the paragon has been hurled 
 down from the pinnacle of imagined perfec- 
 tion, by the relation of some lowering anec- 
 dote, or the utterance of some degrading but 
 just observation, which would never have 
 been made, perhaps, but for the extravagant 
 encomium above alluded to ; nay, I have had 
 occasion to suspect and believe, that some per- 
 sons indulge in violent praises of those whom 
 they scarcely envy, in order that they may 
 enjoy the detraction which they are well 
 aware their praises will excite ; nay, such is 
 the obliquity of human nature, that praise is 
 not always the tribute of a full heart, overflow- 
 ing with sincere admiration, but the indul- 
 gence of a malignant desire to mortify the self- 
 love of those who hear it. 
 
 I know persons who never praise any one, ex- 
 cept in order to mortify such hearers as are no- 
 toriously in competition with the lauded object, 
 and, as might naturally be expected, the same 
 persons have been seen to writhe almost ia 
 agony at hearing the just encomiums bestow- 
 ed on competitors for fame, whether the rival 
 be man or woman, and then give away, at 
 length, into the most cruel detraction from the 
 
84 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 abilities and even moral qualities of the per- 
 sons so commended. I have met, but I know 
 not where, with the following anecdote. A 
 gentleman was once so notorious amongst his 
 companions for his envy, and his almost mor- 
 bid dislike to hear any one praised, that they 
 resolved to expose him by the following 
 stratagem : They invented a person, a name, 
 and a situation, and when they were next in 
 company with the envious man, they talked 
 of this imaginary being as the first of his spe- 
 cies, and invested him with every grace, ta- 
 lent, and acquirerpent, till the envious auditor 
 could bear no more, but, hastily interrupting 
 the last eulogist, he exclaimed, " All this is 
 such romantic nonsense and exaggeration that 
 I can be silent no longer ! I was acquainted 
 with the gentleman in question, a few years 
 ago, and I pronounce him utterly unworthy 
 of the praise you have bestowed ; nay, if I were 
 to tell you all I know of him, you would blush 
 for having set up such an idol to worship." 
 This unprincipled effusion of jealous rage was 
 received, at first, with an awful silence, such as 
 is usually experienced when one hears of or 
 witnesses some act of moral dehnquency ; but 
 it was soon succeeded by a burst of indigna- 
 tion, ending in a sort of hooting and groaning, 
 interrupted only by the voice of him who was 
 deputed to tell the truth to the still agitated 
 offender ; namely, that it was utterly impossi- 
 ble he should have ever known the gentle- 
 man in question, or aught against him, as he 
 never baii any existence, except in their in 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED., 8S 
 
 Vention, and that he and his perfection had 
 bnly been imagined, in order to try the force of 
 this hearer's besetting sin. 
 
 Whether the culprit was warned and taught 
 by this disgraceful experience I do not remem- 
 ber to have heard, and the whole story may 
 be a fiction ; but I dare say there are few of us 
 who have not felt at times as if extravagant 
 and exaggerated praise of others was a sort of 
 injustice to ourselves, and perhaps to those 
 whom we tenderly love ; and when hearing 
 any one described to be the most delightful, 
 tnost wise, most virtuous, most accomplished, 
 and most superior of created beings, there are 
 few hearers who have not experienced a desire 
 to substitute the more reasonable, and probably 
 juster expression of one of the most delight- 
 ful, wise, virtuous, accomplished, and superior, 
 of created beings. The eulogists, who do not 
 use this phrase, so much more balmy to self- 
 Move than the other, run the risk of calling 
 forth the jealous feehnj^s of all whom they ad- 
 dress, and expose their idol to the risk of being 
 instantly assailed. I have always Considered 
 such encomiasts as wholly deficient in that 
 knowledge of the human heart, Which is so 
 necessary to keep our own hearts free from 
 sin, and to prevent us from laying snares for 
 the hearts of others. Such extravagant enco- 
 miasts appear to me the nursing mothers of 
 
 DETRACTORS. 
 
 1 shall now recapitulate what has been said 
 in the present chapter. 
 
 I have stated that detraction is of two kinds, 
 
 8 
 
66 DETRACTION UlSFLAVED. 
 
 s{)ok6n and acted ; that though all scandal is 
 detraction, detraction is not always scandal, 
 that scandal or defamation cannot be as com- 
 mon as detraction, because the law in some 
 measure defends reputation : that when educa- 
 tion becomes so general, that women may 
 venture to talk of books, and things of gene- 
 ral utility, without the fear of being called 
 blue stockings, the tone of conversation will 
 be necessarily raised, and detracting discourses 
 abolished. 
 
 That evil speaking has injurious effects on 
 the utterer and the hearer, as well as the sub- 
 ject of it, and wherefore. 
 
 That the only means by which to secure un- 
 alterable regard towards our friends, is never 
 to talk of their faiUngs. 
 
 That nothing is so likely to provoke detract- 
 ing observations, as exaggerated eulogy. 
 
 That some persons indulge in extravagant 
 praises of those whom they secretly envy, in 
 order to enjoy the detraction which they are 
 well aware their praises will excite. 
 
 That such is the obliquity of some individu- 
 als, they never praise but with a view to mor- 
 tify the person whom they address, particu- 
 larly when they know their auditor to be in 
 rivalship with the person so eul ogized. 
 
 Lastly, that extravagant eulogists are the 
 nursing mothers of detractors. 
 
DETRACTIOiSr JDISPLAYED. 87 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ON THE DIFFERENT CLASSES OF DETRACTCWftS* 
 
 I SHALL now proceed to enumerate the diT' 
 ferent classes of detractors. 
 
 Detractors may be divided under the follovv:- 
 ing heads : — 
 
 Gossips. 
 
 Talkers-over. 
 
 Laughers-at. 
 
 Banterers. 
 
 Nicknamers. 
 
 Stingers. 
 
 Scorners. 
 
 JSneerers. 
 
 Eye-inflictors. 
 
 Mimicks, 
 
 Caricaturists. 
 
 Epigrammatists. 
 
 Gossips are first on my list, and I begin with 
 them the more willingly, because I believe that 
 all my readers will think of gossips when I 
 first mention detractors. 
 
 Still there are worse detractors than pro- 
 fessed gossips, though there arq none more 
 incorrigible. 
 
 Gossips are not always malevolent^ but they 
 are always idle^ and it is their idleness that 
 makes them gossips. 
 
SB DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 Gossips are usually those who have nothing 
 to do, or who can or will do nothing. They 
 know there are twenty-four hours in the day 
 to get aid of, not to improve ; for of mental 
 improvement the thorough-bred gossip never 
 thinks. How then can gossips get rid of that 
 burden, called time 1 How are they " to kill 
 the enemy V^ (to use a common phrase.) The 
 enemy indeed, though they see him not as he 
 really is, for time is hurrying them on uncon- 
 sciously but surely^ with all their sins of omis^ 
 sion on their heads, to an awful eternity. 
 
 It is so, but what does that signify, to the 
 gossip, so as the day be but gotten through 1 
 The gossip may pass the early hours of it in 
 bed, and in sleep, and not only awful eternity 
 but troublesome time itself be forgotten in 
 morning slumbers. But even gossips must get 
 up at last, and then what is before them ? A 
 vacuum, which must be filled up, with what ? 
 not with reading ; the true gossip cannot read, 
 I doubt whether a thorough-bred one ever 
 read a book entirely through, for gossips let 
 their minds down so completely by gossipiog 
 habits, that like ground, left long uncultivated,, 
 they become incapable of cultivation, and 
 barren they remain ; bearing no vegetation of 
 their own, but stuck full of news, reports, 
 scandal, and the lies of the day, which they 
 have gathered from others, and with which 
 they decorate their conversation, when on 
 their round of calls. A male gossip, who used 
 frequently to visit at my bouse in London^ 
 s^id to me in a pompous tone of voice, and 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 3^ 
 
 \vith a contemptuous sneer when I asked him 
 if he had read such and such books, " Books ! 
 no I never read hooks, I only read men ;" and 
 perhaps other gossips would reply in the same 
 manner. 1 shall here observe, that male gossips 
 are full as numerous as female ones ; all men 
 as well as all women, who have «mpty minds, 
 must be gossips : if they do not fill their minds, 
 by the exertions of their eyes, with wholesome 
 and necessary knowledge, they must feed 
 them, by means of their ears, or life would 
 stagnate, with unwholesome and unnecessary 
 knowledge, the knowledge of tittle-tattle, and 
 other people's affairs. And at a certain hour 
 they commonly sally forth on their daily 
 round, either to the coffee-room, or the club- 
 room, to a certain walk in a certain street, or 
 on a certain road, or to make a certain suc- 
 cession of calls. But male gossips alone can 
 frequent the clubs or coffee-room, the females 
 are confined to morning visits, or shopping 
 and the promenade. Let me not be supposed 
 to confound gossip-calls with morning visits of 
 friendship and kind inquiry ; they are usually 
 acceptable, and commonly well received. But 
 gossips by profession do not call to amuse 
 others, but to get rid of themselves^ In short, 
 gossips are time-killers, and unhappily for 
 those whom they frequent, they cannot com- 
 mit the murder alone, they must have accom- 
 plices ; nor does the guilt always stop there. 
 Common chit-chat concerning dress, and mar- 
 riage, births, burials, and bankruptcies, be- 
 comes at length insipid ; something of a higher 
 
90 DfiTRACTION DISPLAYEF. 
 
 reirsh must be found ; and then, oh 1 therr^ 
 murder of even a worse kind succeeds, and to 
 the killing of time succeeds the slaughter of 
 reputations. 
 
 Thus, as I before said, gossips are not ori- 
 ginally malevolent, but their evil speaking 
 results from their idle habits, and empty minds ; 
 for all minds require excitement of some sort, 
 and where there is not proper and virtuous 
 stimulus, there must be that improper and vi- 
 cious excitement which tale-bearing, tittle- 
 tattle, and gossip, produce. How like the 
 existence of a squi]("rel in a cage, is that of a 
 gossip, particularly that of the regular notori- 
 ous gossip in a country town. The squirrel 
 sleeps well, wakes at a certain hour, eats his 
 accustomed food, takes his accustomed exer- 
 cises in that twirling thing, which always goes 
 the same way, and which he cannot get out of; 
 the squirrel expects and takes with much plea- 
 sure the offered nut or fruit, which is to him, 
 what a piece of news is to the gossip ; and then 
 he goes quietly to his bed, when his usual 
 quantity of food and exercise is taken, and 
 wakes next day to a repethion of the same^| 
 And what does the gossip do more? The squir- 
 rel acquires no new ideas in the day, nor, I| 
 fear, does the gossip ; but we do not expect a » 
 squirrel to gain ideas ; we do expect it from 
 human beings, for we know that they have 
 duties lo perform, and souls to be saved, whe- 
 ther they know it or not ; know it I trust they 
 doj-but theft they forget it. The mourn^Ml truth 
 is, they have so long accustomed themselves 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 91 
 
 to idle away life and pass it in long talks, (as 
 the savages say) which can do no one any 
 good, and must do positive harm, that they 
 are likely to remain what I have called them, 
 nearly incorrigible ; with them, alas ! all inqui- 
 ries are external ; they know not what it is to 
 commune with the secret heart ; they are well 
 read in the defects of others, but they never 
 think of trying to discover their own. There- 
 fore they must continue to saunter from street 
 to street, from the club to the coffee-room, 
 from one house to another, and from shop to 
 shop, in weary succession, like the squirrel in 
 its ever-circling wheel, the pages of their 
 passing hours bearing no characters fit to be 
 handed by recording time to eternity, a burden 
 often to themselves, and wholly useless if not 
 wearisome to others. 
 
 Alas ! poor squirrel ! but still more pitiable 
 gossip ! for the squirrel knows not his priva- 
 tions, but gossips must occasionally be con- 
 scious of theirs. They must know the little 
 mind that idleness produces listlessness, want 
 of regular occupation, weariness ; and that with 
 increasing years comes increasing irritability, 
 the result of conscious uselessness, and the 
 want of those resources which enliven others. 
 Gossips are mdeed a pitiable race ; and to the 
 young gossip, wh</ may not be wholly incor- 
 rigible, I recommend a perusal of the follow- 
 ing ac^mir.ible admonition. " Let any maa 
 pass an evening in listless idleness, or even ia 
 reading some silly tale, and compare the state 
 of his mind when he goes to sleep, or gets up 
 
1^2 DETRACTION DISPLAYED* 
 
 next morning, with its state some other day, 
 when he has passed some hours in going 
 through the proofs, by facts and reasoning, of 
 some of the great doctrines in natural science, 
 learning truths wholly new to him, and satis- 
 fying himself by careful examination of the 
 grounds on which known truths rest, so as to 
 be not only acquainted with the doctrines them- 
 selves, but able to show why he believes them, 
 and to prove before others that they are true ; 
 and he will find as great a difference as can 
 exist in the same being ; the difference between 
 looking back upon time improperly wasted, 
 and time spent in self-improvement. He will 
 feel himself in the one case listless and dis- 
 satisfied, in the other comfortable and happy ; 
 in the one case, if he does not appear to him- 
 self humbled, at least he will not have earned 
 any claims to his own respect ; in the other 
 case he will enjoy a proud consciousness of 
 having by his own exertions become a more 
 wise, and therefore a more exalted creature."* 
 
 The following appropriate extract is from 
 the Government of the Tongue, a work written 
 by the author of the Whole Duty of Man. 
 
 ** The historian gives it as an ill indication 
 of Domitian's temper, that he employed him- 
 self in catching and tormenting flies ; and sure 
 they fall not under a much better character 
 either for wisdom, or good-nature, who thus 
 snatch up all the little fluttering reports they 
 
 * Vide the " Preliminary Treatise on the objects, ad- 
 vantages, and pleasures of science," by H. Brougham, 
 page 46. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 93 
 
 can meet with, to the prejudice of their neigh- 
 hours. But, besides the divulging the faults 
 of others, there is another branch of detrac- 
 tion naturally springing from this root, and 
 that is, censuring and severe judging of them. 
 We think not we have well played the histo- 
 rians, when we have told the thing, unless we 
 add also our remarks and animadversions in 
 it, .... a process contrary to all rules of law 
 or equity, for the plaintiff to assume the part 
 of a judge. And we may easily divine the 
 fate of that man's fame that is so unduly tried." 
 
 It is not necessary for me to give any speci- 
 men of the manner and language of a gossip, 
 because I illustrate them in the following ac- 
 count of the most numerous class of detractors, 
 and the second on my list, namely, talkers- 
 over. 
 
 Though gossips must be talkers-over, talkers- 
 over are not always gossips, but are other per- 
 sons of a higher order of mind, and capable 
 sometimes of better things. By talkers-over 
 I mean myself, and almost every one else ; that 
 is, every one who, whether in tete-a-t^te, in 
 small family, or friendly circles, or in the more 
 extended field of a large assembly, talks over 
 friends and acquaintainces, and makes them, in 
 any way, the favourite theme of conversation. 
 — Such conversation often begins with kind 
 inquiry, and perhaps encomium ; sometimes, 
 also, with pity ; but pity is often the turnpike 
 road leading directly to detraction, and ^QW 
 stop at it, but proceed through it to detraction 
 itself, with the rapidity of a carriage going 
 
94 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 down an inclined plane on a rail-road ; for it is, 
 perhaps, suggested, that the illness, the sor- 
 rows, or ruin, of the persons pitied proceed 
 from their own fault, and the sufferers are 
 charitably converted into delinquents also. 
 But whenever or how^ever the conversation 
 begins, if it continues on persons instead of 
 things, it ends commonly in detraction ; that 
 is, in lessening remarks on the subject of it, 
 which, if they were overheard by their ob- 
 ject, would cause them, probably, a sleepless 
 night, after a painful day — would make them 
 shudder, perhaps, at the treachery of the rela- 
 tive or friend in whom they had confided, and 
 would cause them to look upon existence itself 
 as a trial to be endured, not as a benefit to be 
 enjoyed. Happy those who, when convinced 
 by painful experience of the emptiness of 
 worldly dependence, are enabled to obey the 
 important command : — " Cease ye from man 
 whose breath is in his nostrils !" and to rely 
 wholly on that Friend which faileth not — 
 " the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever !" 
 
 I own, that there is something tempting and 
 agreeable in talking over one's friends and ac- 
 quaintances ; and even children soon learn to 
 enjoy it, as the following anecdote evinces. 
 *' Mamma," cried a little boy, while his pa- 
 rents were receiving some morning visiters, 
 <' when will these people go away that we 
 may talk about them ?" Talking-over, as I 
 before observed, often begins without any 
 wish or intention of depreciating ; but there are 
 fhw persons, if any, who have not some weak 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED- 95 
 
 points ; and when talkers-over get together tete- 
 a-tete, parents with their children, brothers 
 with their sisters, with an occasional staying 
 friend in the house, it is impossible but that 
 faults should be canvassed, as well as perfec- 
 tions, and that what began in a love of indo- 
 lent amusement and innocent gossip, (if gossip 
 can be entirely innocent) ends commonly in 
 ridicule, detraction, or perhaps scandaL Still 
 there is no study so interesting as that of one's 
 fellow-creatures and their actions, motives, 
 sorrows, and propensities ; and there is also no 
 study so easy. To succeed in the study of 
 science and languages, to be learned in books, 
 or in art, requires constant and severe applica- 
 tion, and a considerable degree of quickness 
 and ability ; but the talker-over requires no- 
 thing to qualify him for his vocation, but eyes 
 to see with, ears to hear with, and a tongue to 
 speak with ; no superior degree of ability is 
 requisite to do all he wishes. Talking-over is 
 a complete leveller of all superiority of talent. 
 The person of mean abilities succeeds in it 
 quite as well as the person of superior under- 
 standing ; and for cutting up characters, for 
 misjudging motives, for lowering the reputa- 
 tion of a highly-gifted acquaintance or associ^ 
 ate, an unintellectual man or woman is as well 
 fitted as the most enlightened. I have always 
 considered it as a vulgar error, or as an obser- 
 vation the result of envy, that all clever per- 
 sons are, and must be, satirical ; for my ex- 
 perience, on the contrary, has convinced me 
 that the most satirical of my acquaintance are 
 
96 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 those who have more quickness than sense^ 
 who mistake severity for shrewdness, and sa- 
 tirical observations for wit and humour. In- 
 stead of its being true, that the intellectual are 
 always satirical, it would be more just to say, 
 that persons are often satirical in the hope of 
 appearing clever, from the erroneous belief 
 that an aptitude to satire is a proof of ability. 
 A tendency to see the ridiculous and the ludi- 
 crous in persons or things is nothing more 
 than a quickness of observation, which even 
 children possess ; and I agree with an admira- 
 ble writer, that " true wit and true good-na- 
 ture are more nearly allied than most persons 
 have any idea of." 
 
 But what do you mean by a talker-over ? 
 alas ! it is very difficult to illustrate talking-oveY 
 by an example. It is more difficult for a paint- 
 er to imitate a dead flat, than a rock or a moun- 
 tain ; and it is much easier to describe an in- 
 teresting event, than a common-place conver- 
 sation ; but I will endeavour to explain my 
 meaning by a supposed dialogue of talkers- 
 over, and probably my readers will recognise 
 in it their own daily experience. 
 
 I will suppose that I am paying a morning 
 visit in some family, consisting of two or three 
 persons, all present, with a caller-in or two 
 like myself. When the usual topics of the 
 weather, and my health, or that of the rest of 
 the party have been discussed, the mistress of 
 the house says, probably — " Pray have you 
 heard of Mrs. Alpha lately?" '' No, I have 
 not." " She is abroad, I think," " Yes, and 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 97 
 
 ^W her family, arid they were quite well when 
 I last heard of them." " Have you any thoughts 
 of going to London soon ?' * * \ es, very soon : 
 art thou and thy family going this year ?" 
 " No, oh ! no, I wish we were going ; but papa 
 and mamma say no," cries one of the daugh- 
 ters. *' Town is very full," observes the visit- 
 er, " and the exhibitions will soon be open." 
 '' Pray, have you heard how Mrs. Beta is ?" 
 says the mistress of the house, '' I have heard 
 she is very ill." ^' Very ill indeed) I under- 
 stand." '' She would be a great loss to her 
 family." ** Certainly." *' How many chil- 
 dren has she ?" " Six, I believe." *' Poor 
 things ! what a sad thing it will be if she is 
 taken from them !" "A sad thing indeed !" 
 Hitherto all has gone on well in this talking- 
 over, insipid but liarmless, and perhaps might 
 have gone on thus as long again, but we were 
 begmning to pity in the last observation. Oh! 
 pity is a sad snare ! and we go on thus. " Yes, 
 it does seem very hard when a mother is taken 
 from her children in the prime of life," ob- 
 serves the mistress of the house ; '* but some 
 mothers are greater losses than others, and 
 o^irs. Beta is a well-meaning woman, but r^he 
 does so spoil her children !" ^* Indeed !" *' Oh, 
 de.ir, yes." ** Mamma, do you not remember 
 the story of her little boy Henry Beta, which 
 Mrs. Gamma told us, and what a naughty boy 
 he is ?" *' Oh, yes, and then they are brought 
 up so expensively ! and it is incredible how 
 much linen they dirty in the week, and how 
 many clothes they wear out in the year." 
 9 
 
98 DETRACTION DISPLATE1>. 
 
 <^ And I have heard, now you mention it, that 
 Mr. and Mrs. Beta don't live happily together, 
 and that is a sad example for children." " Poor 
 thing ! well, it may be for the good of her 
 family that she is removed." ** Pray, how is 
 her brother going on now ?" " Not well, I 
 fear." " I have not heard any thing of him 
 for some time, but he is probably in the King's 
 Bench." " And the youngest sister, I be* 
 lieve,'' says the visiter, '* has been much talk- 
 ed of lately ; she is likely, to say the best of 
 her, to make a very bad match." ** Indeed I" 
 " Oh, dear ! yes." '' Mamma, do you not re- 
 member that Mrs. Gamma — " " My dear, I 
 wish you would not quote Mrs. Gamma so 
 often, for she is never very accurate, and when 
 she has taken a dislike to any one, she is still 
 less to be depended upon." '* Yes," cries the 
 visiter, " I have heard she is apt to take dis- 
 likes, and to speak a little at random, and they 
 do say — " but enough, my readers must be as 
 tired of perusing, as I am of writing this sort 
 of dialogue ; thus, talking over one person and 
 another, though it may begin in friendly in- 
 quiries, gets on, by little and little, into that 
 style of conversation, which deserves the name 
 of detraction ; and though I have not put words 
 in my own mouth on this occasion, I must 
 confess that I might have borne my part in it, 
 had the conversation been real — and real in 
 one sense it was ; for it is what is said and 
 heard in society every day. Some one may 
 be tempted to observe, " but what can one 
 <h 1 one must see the faults of our acquaint- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED* 99 
 
 ances, and if they do not deserve it, one can- 
 not be so false as to praise them." True, but 
 we need not be eager to bring their faults for- 
 ward. It is right and necessary for my own 
 self-defence, that I should know that Mrs. 
 Gamma is inaccurate in her narrations ; there 
 is no harm in any one's finding this out, nor 
 in thinking that Mrs. Beta spoils her children, 
 or that her husband and she live unhappily to- 
 gether. The fault is in making these things 
 needlessly and constantly the theme of con- 
 versation ; for then, indeed, social intercourse 
 degenerates into pernicious gossip ; and time, 
 which IS the most valuable of all our posses- 
 sions, is wasted in useless and mischievous 
 detraction. But of all talkers-over, those who 
 canvass the defects and misfortunes of their 
 friends, with the tone of benevolent pity, are 
 tx) me the most offensive. Benevolence should 
 make us turn away from the distresses and dis- 
 appointments, which it is not in our power to 
 alleviate ; and when t am forced by a talker- 
 over to recall all the miseries of those I love 
 or am interested in, 1 am provoked into an 
 unjust idea of the motives of the speakers, and 
 impute them to a detracting spirit, or mean 
 pleasure in contrasting their own prosperity 
 with the adversity of their cotemporaries or 
 associates, and this is not, I fear, to be attri- 
 buted to the pleasure arising from a sense of 
 the divine goodness expressed in one of Dr. 
 Watt's beautiful hymns, 
 
 " Not more than others I deserve, 
 But God has given me more ;" 
 
100 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 for a pleasure like that is deeply felt, and sa- 
 cred to one's private hours of solemn thanks- 
 giving. 
 
 The thorough talker-over is a thorough 
 croaker also. If an acquaintance gets into a 
 new business, he or she will doubtless be ruin- 
 ed. If a friend is ill, the croaker is sure the 
 poor thing will never recover, therefore I 
 think I might have been justified in including 
 the croaker amongst my list of detractors. 
 
 Detraction requires so little ability, that I 
 wonder we are not too proud to be guilty of 
 it. Some talent is requishe to praise with just 
 discrimination ; and who are the most given to 
 laugh at and ridicule their acquaintances of all 
 ages ? Forward children, and boys and girls ; 
 and in them, this is not a proof of being clever 
 but a wish to appear so. The Itahan proverb 
 says, " The hand that can only build a cot- 
 tage can pull down a palace ;" and I am often 
 reminded of it when I hear the petty sarcasms 
 of petty persons, on the infirmities of the in- 
 tellectual, gifted beings, who, with all their fail- 
 ings, are still upon an eminence which their cen- 
 surers can never reach. But it is this convic- 
 tion that provokes the detractor. The persons 
 discussed are consciously superior in external 
 graces, talents, virtues, and worldly advan- 
 tages, and the discussors are thus taking a safe 
 revenge on them for the mortification which 
 this known superiority has inflicted. Some 
 writer calls revenge a " wild justice ;" and I 
 doubt not, but that many men and women, 
 who have provoked others to depreciate thos^ 
 
JDETKACTIpN DISPLAYfiI>,. , lOi 
 
 of wbom they are jealous, or have detracted 
 from their merit themselves, have in a degree 
 convinced their conscience that they were only 
 performing an act of justice, and that they, and 
 they alone, were putting these objects, of blind 
 admiration in their right place, or on their truo 
 level. 
 
 There is another sort of talkmgr.Qver, com- 
 mon to myself and others, which i^ peculiarly 
 offensive ; I mean, praise accompanied by a 
 but : for the " btJt" neutralizes the encomium, 
 and makes it real censure in the assumed garb 
 of kindness. The following extracts from the 
 Universal Passion will exemplify what I mean. 
 
 *• Daphne, says Clio, has a charming- eye 
 "What pity Uis her shoulder is awry ! 
 Aspasia's shape, indeed, but then her hair ; 
 The man has parts who finds instruction there, 
 Almeria's wit has something that's divine, 
 And wit's enough, how few in all things shine! 
 Selina serv^es her friends, relieves the poor; 
 "Who vas it Said Selina's near three score ? 
 At l^ucia*s match I from my soul rejoice ; 
 T/ie world congratulates so wise a choice. 
 His lordship's rent-roll is exceeding great, 
 But mortgages will sap the best estate. 
 ********* 
 
 Without a but, Hortensia she commends ; 
 The first of womea, and the best of friends ; 
 Owns her in person, wit, fame, virtue, bright; 
 But how comes this to pass ? She died last night. 
 Thus nymphs commend, who still at satire rail ; 
 Satire is needless, if such praise prevail. 
 
 Perhaps it may be said, that society could 
 not exist without talkers-over ; and when the 
 subject of public news and occurrences is ex- 
 hausted, private individuals must in their turn 
 9* 
 
; 10"^ I>STRAeTioN 'DfSPLAYED. 
 
 be made the theme of conversation, in thog0 
 companies which pretend not to be learned or 
 intellectual. 
 
 But though as beauty, ugliness, dress, man- 
 ners, marriages, deaths, sicknesses, and recove- 
 ries, bankruptcies, legacies, and so on, make 
 up all the worldly interests of human life, they 
 must therefore be the most common topics for 
 human beings to discuss, I must still contend, 
 that such discussions should be marked with 
 charity, kindness, forbearance, with a wish to 
 excuse, not a mean desire to condemn ; and 
 that affairs of greater moment, of greater im- 
 portance to us, both as creatures of time and 
 heirs of immortality, ought to succeed to the 
 discussion of persons ; and when we assemble 
 together for the purpose of social converse 
 here, it would be surely better not to lose sight 
 entirely of the interests of hereafter. 
 
 The LAUGHERs-AT como next on my list, 
 and these are not very dis antly related to those 
 " who sit in the seat of the scornful." 
 
 To this class of conversers, talkers-over are, 
 comparatively, desirable associates. The latter 
 often mean no harm, are chiefly solicitous to pass 
 away time in a manner suitable to all capacities, 
 and frequently meet and separate without 
 holding any one up to the serious injury of 
 excessive ridicule. 
 
 But ridicule is the very soul of the conver- 
 sation of true laughers-at. 
 
 They see the absurd, where others, however 
 observant, cannot. " What was there ridicu- 
 lous in this or that ?' is often the reply to 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 103 
 
 these laughing satirists, and they can give no 
 answer, but a second ell of grin to what seem- 
 ed to others only an inch of joke. 
 
 One's looks, words, gestures, motions, ar^ 
 all liable to provoke the laugher n-at detract- 
 ing risibility, which is not always kept in 
 bounds, even in one's presence. 
 
 The eye of the true laugher-at is full of that 
 meaning, which the poet calls *' the lurking 
 devil in the eye," while the same devil lurks 
 in the corners of the mouth, making them 
 every moment ready to distend, with unkind 
 mirth, at the foibles, real or imagined, of their 
 unconscious, but sometimes conscious, vic- 
 tims. Old as I am in years, and still older in 
 worldly experience, there are many, even 
 amongst my young acquaintance, from whose 
 detracting laugh and sneering observation I 
 occasionally shrink, feeling myself both unsafe 
 and uncomfortable in their presence. 
 
 But I hope that I have more power to strug- 
 gle with this unworthy feeling than I had in 
 days that are past, and that I never act on them 
 as I was once tempted to do on a particular oc- 
 casion, when I was reproved and taught by the 
 precept and example of my husband. The an- 
 ecdote to which I allude is as follows, and I 
 have related it in my memoir of him. 
 
 We were one evening in a company con- 
 sisting chiefly of men, who possessed rare men- 
 tal endowments and considerable reputation, 
 but who were, unhappily, led by high animal 
 spirits, and a consciousness of power, to ani- 
 madvert on their absent acquaintances, with 
 
104 DETBACTION DXSPLAYEJju 
 
 ingenious, unsparing, and unequalled severity , 
 and even the learned, the witty, the agreeable 
 and the beautiful, were set up, like so many 
 nine-pins, to be bowled down again immedi- 
 ately. 
 
 " As we kept early hours, I knew that we 
 should probably be the fir8t to leave the party, 
 and I sat in dread of the arrival of twelve 
 o'clock, because 1 had no doubt but that we 
 should be shown off in our turn for the amuse- 
 ment of the company. At length the expect- 
 ed hour arrived, and I received the usual sign; 
 but I found means of expressing my fears to 
 my husband, and my consequent wish to stay 
 longer. 
 
 ** A reproving look, and a desire expressed 
 aloud that I should get ready to go, were his 
 only answer, and I obeyed. When we were 
 in the street, he said, " I believe that I never 
 in my life acted from a motive so unworthy 
 as that of /ear ; and this was a fear of so con- 
 temptible a nature, that 1 should always dis- 
 dain to be governed by it, and I am really 
 ashamed of you !" 
 
 No wonder — I was ashamed of myself ; and 
 I can only say in my excuse, that my fears 
 were not entirely selfish. 
 
 But to resume my subject. 
 
 True laugher s-at are, of all observers, the 
 least accurate. I would as soon employ a ca- 
 ricaturist by profession to draw me the out- 
 line of a perfect face or form, as I would take 
 my opmion of any person or thing, from the 
 description of habitual laughers^at. Their 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 105 
 
 mental vision is warped, and can take in only 
 part of a whole ; nor do they wish to see things 
 as they are. Their airn is to exhibit, in a lu- 
 dicrous point of view, all persons and things. 
 Fairness of judgment is, with them, out of the 
 question. Their object is to produce effect ; 
 and if a chorus of laughs be raised at the ex- 
 pense even of unoffending friends and acquain- 
 tances, the laughers-at are satisfied : and in 
 proportion to the number of victims offered 
 up on the altar of ridicule, is the enjoyment 
 which they derive from their hours of social 
 intercourse ; and they return home believing 
 themselves, (and probably with truth,) to have 
 been the life of the company, and the amuse- 
 ment of all who have listened them. 
 
 I know no place in which satire and ridicule 
 can be so securely indulged, as in a large and 
 attached family of br thers and sisters. There 
 one is sure of finding many laughers-at ; and 
 I cannot imagine a more embarrassing situa- 
 tion than that of a man, whose heart impels him 
 to make proposals to one out of several single 
 sisters. The habit which they have, proba- 
 bly, acquired, of laughing at all their associ- 
 ates, intimate or occasional, is likely to be 
 more than usually exerted on the candidate for 
 the favour of one of them. 
 
 For the (rue lover is the most awkward and 
 embarrassed of men, as the poet says : — 
 
 " The lover is a man afraid-r- 
 Has neither ,^race, nor ease, nor art ; 
 Embarrass'd, comfortless, disniay'd, 
 He sinks, the victim of his heart ; 
 
106 DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 
 
 He feels his own demerit most 
 When he should most aspire to gain, 
 And is, at length, completely lost. 
 Because he dare not tell his pain." 
 
 When I have heard that any one is paying 
 his addresses to one sister, and exposed to the 
 criticisms of the other, I have pitied him sin- 
 cerely, because 1 have doubted of his success, 
 having rarely known a suitor, under these 
 circumstances, accepted at once, if he has been 
 accepted at all ; not from an amiable reluctance 
 in the lady to leave her sisters, and in them to 
 part with her, but because the poor admirer's 
 person, manners, and qualities, were the theme 
 of that sort of laughing detraction, of all things 
 most fatal to a lover's success ; and I have 
 known more than one instance of a suitor's 
 dismissal, not because he was unpleasing to 
 the object of his attachment, but because he 
 ivas not agreeable to the taste of her fastidious 
 family. 
 
 These satirical young persons were a com- 
 plete specimen of laugher s-at, and I should 
 have liked to expostulate with them thus : 
 
 " You know your sister's lover to be a gen- 
 tleman, a man of excellent character, and good 
 principles. How could you, then, because he 
 was rendered awkward and embarrassed by 
 the strength of his attachment, take pleasure 
 in mimicking him, and rendering him ridicu- 
 lous in your sister's eyes, and running the risk 
 of making him unhappy for years ? 
 
 What was your motive ? No other, proba- 
 bly, than the habitual desire of showing your 
 
PETRACTION DISPLAYED. 107 
 
 fancied wit, and powers of satire ; and for this 
 paltry, ungenerous gratification, you have pre- 
 vented your sister from forming a very desira- 
 ble connection, and have clouded over, per- 
 haps for life, the prospects of an amiable fel- 
 low-creature ! Is this utter disregard of a 
 man's intrinsic qualities consistent with any 
 views higher than those of this world 1 Is it not 
 an awful evidence of a worldly spirit, and 
 wholly at variance with that respect for moral 
 worth, and that christian faith which you so of- 
 ten profess ? I should have washed also to alarm 
 their selfishness, and have assured them, that 
 their obvious tendency to satirize and ridicule 
 would, undoubtedly, keep suitors to them- 
 selves at a respectful distance, and make their 
 vicinity avoided in time as much as that of the 
 fabled upas tree. I could have told them, that 
 1 had reason to believe young women, who 
 have the reputation of being satirical, are, gene- 
 rally, as securely guarded against matrimonial 
 overtures, as if they were enclosed in the walls 
 of a convent." 
 
 " Why dost thou ndt try thy fortune with 
 that interesting girl V said I to a young friend 
 not long ago. 
 
 " Look at her expression !" was his reply, 
 ^* and listen to her words ! Her eyes are brim 
 full of satirical meanings, and her conversa- 
 tion is an apt comment on them." 
 
 Another friend of mine replied, when asked 
 why he did not try to win the affections of a 
 beautiful girl of his acquaintance, << she laughs 
 too much." " Where is the harm of th.at f' 
 
108 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 said the inquirer ; " she is young-, and laughter 
 is natural to youth," " True^ and I like a 
 harmless, innocent laugh, the laugh that is 
 Tj^ith^ not at one's associates. But I have so 
 often heard this girl laugh at others, that she 
 has laughed away all my desire to win her for 
 myself." 
 
 These are only two instances to prove that 
 it is impolitic, as well as unamiable in our sex, 
 to indulge in a habit of laughing-at : but I 
 have known others, and I have reason to think, 
 that a detracting tongue has often neutralized 
 the power even of a beautiful face, over the 
 heart of an amiable man. 
 
 I wish I could conclude my description of 
 laughers at, by a specimen of lau^hivg-at : 
 but I feel it to be impossible, as sound, looks, 
 and gestures cannot be given in writing, and 
 laughers-at must be seen to be known ; but I 
 believe, that such an attempt, if possible, would 
 be unnecessary ; as which of my readers has 
 not seen, as well as myself, the observant eye, 
 gradually more and more expressive of satiri- 
 cal meanings, and h&ard the suppressed or 
 loud laugh, excited by the ridiculous descrip- 
 tion given by the practii^ed / uj^htr-'at^ of their 
 absent acquaintances, and sometimes of their 
 best friends. 
 
 I shall therefore dismiss my present subject, 
 with an extract more to the purpose, than any 
 thing I can write, and which satisfactorily ac- 
 counts for the dislike which is generally felt 
 towards professed laughers-at. 
 
 " There is also," says the admirable writer 
 
1>ETRACTI0N DISPLAYED. 109 
 
 I quoted before, " another fault of the tongue 
 injurious to our neighbour, and that is, derision 
 and mockery, and striving to render others as 
 ridiculous and contemptible as we can." "There 
 is such a general aversion in human nature to 
 contempt, that there is scarcely any thing more 
 exasperating ; I will not deny, but the excess of 
 that aversion may be levelled against pride, yet 
 sarcasm and disdain never sprung from humi- 
 lity, and therefore are very incompetent cor- 
 rectors of the other ; so that it may be said of 
 that, as once it was of Diogenes, that he tram- 
 pled on Plato's pride, with greater of his own. 
 Nor is this injury enhanced only by the re- 
 sentment of the sufferer, but also by the way 
 of inflicting it. We generally think those are 
 the severest marks of mfemy, which are the 
 most indelible." " The reproach of rage and 
 fury seems to be writ in chalk or lead, which 
 a dispassionate hearer easily wipes out, but 
 those of wit and ridicule, are like the gra* 
 ver^s burner upon copper, or the corrodings 
 of aquafortis, that engrave and indent the 
 characters that they can never be defaced.''^ 
 I therefore believe, in accordance with the 
 writer of the foregoing sentiments, that it is 
 easier to forgive injuries on the reputation by 
 the defamer, than the ridicule thrown upon the 
 person and the manner, by the detraction of 
 the laugher- at, 
 
 Banterers come next in order, and truly 
 
 they well deserve the name of detractors ; for 
 
 though they may begin with good-humoured 
 
 jokes, they cgmrnonly end ia bringing forward 
 
 10 
 
1 10 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.. 
 
 one particular person in the company, as a hut 
 for their raillery. 
 
 Dr. Johnson says, that to banter means " to 
 play upon, to rally ;" and banter he calls " ri- 
 dicule, raillery ;" therefore, the banterer can- 
 not, if he deserves his name, be contented to 
 confine himself to harmless pleasantry ; and 
 irony, that weapon which the sneerer, perhaps, 
 only occasionally wields, is always used by the 
 banterer in some shape or other. 
 
 It is surprising to see on what a small capi- 
 tal of intellect, wit, and humour, ihe banterer 
 is able to trade for notice and attention, and to 
 obtain in society an ainple supply of it. 
 
 I have seen sense, learning, virtue, and the 
 modest dignity of female loveliness, overborne, 
 alarmed, and silenced, by the assaults of the 
 banterer. And why was this ? Because there 
 is in us all a love of ridicule, which few are 
 able to resist ; and as part of the necessary stock 
 in trade of a banterer is the power of exciting 
 laughter, and as we are all ready to laugh, 
 whether . it be ill-naturedly or good-natur- 
 edly, the banterer knows that when once 
 he has excited the merriment of his auditors, 
 his reign is secure, and he may be as despoti- 
 cally daring as he pleases, while the learned, 
 the witty, and the wise also, know that it 
 would be vain to oppose their gifts to those of 
 the banterer, as his gold leaf goes farther than 
 their gold ; that most persons had rather be 
 amused than edified, and that if they be un- 
 mercifully attacked themselves, they hare, at 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED* 111 
 
 least, the consolation of hearing their associates 
 assailed in their turn. 
 
 And sometimes I have seen the bantered 
 amply revenged ! for the banterer has been 
 met in the field by a banterer more powerful 
 than himself; till, defeated and overpowered 
 after a long contention, he has been forced to 
 surrender, and resign his arms. Then woe to 
 the banterer ! for all the bantered have had a 
 blow at him fallen, before whom when erect 
 they trembled ; and I have seen such vengeance 
 taken of a prostrate banterer, as has made ray 
 pity greater even than my rejoicing, and urg- 
 ed me to bid retributive justice hold its heavy 
 hand. Quizzers are, I thmk, of the family of 
 banterers ; but quizzers and quizzing are so 
 vulgar and disagreeable, that 1 shall not at- 
 tempt to give a description of them. 
 
 The NicKNAMLH is next on the record, 
 Nicknamers are prominent persons amongst 
 detractors ; but they are more amusing than 
 scorners and sneerers, and much less offensive. 
 Sometimes a nicknamer is so ingenious, and 
 hits off so exactly the character of the person 
 nicknamed, that it amounts to wit. Still, 
 nicknaming is a bad and vulgar habit, and usu- 
 ally proceeds from a lowering satirical inclina- 
 tion, and from a desire of being severe with 
 but little trouble. 
 
 NicKNAMKRs generally look at men, women, 
 and things, through a distorting medium ; and 
 though the nicknames themselves be not al- 
 ways offensive, the spirit of the person that 
 gives them ?s, for it is deeply imbued with a 
 
112 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 love of detraction, usually accompanied by a 
 tendency to malignity, which is easily aroused 
 into positive defamation. 
 
 I shall now treat of that class of detractors 
 which I have ventured to denominate sting- 
 ers, or those who inflict on the mind such, 
 sudden wounds, as a certain description of lit- 
 tle fly, called the midge, inflicts on the body. 
 
 Stingers take a sly opportunity of wound- 
 ing the self-love of others, particularly if those 
 they assail have in any way, been the means 
 of mortifying their own. They have a peculiar 
 pleasure where they feel jealousy for them- 
 selves, or those who belong to them, in inflict- 
 ing, as it were, little pinches on the skin of 
 one's mind. 
 
 If a poor girl be suspected of a secret and 
 hopeless attachment, and has ever come un- 
 pleasantly across the stinger's path, the stinger 
 will suddenly name the suspected object of 
 her love, in order to see the mantling blush 
 betray the hidden wound § while the conscious 
 eye shrinks from the cruelly observant one 
 fixed upon her. 
 
 If asked how this can come under the head 
 of detraction, I answer, that as a hopeless at- 
 tachment is a lowering circumstance in the life 
 of any one, it is from a spirit of detraction that 
 the stinger loves to convict the conscious suf- 
 ferer of the remaining weakness. In like man- 
 ner, if a young man be suspect^-d by a stinger 
 of having made unsuccessful proposals to a 
 lady, her name will suddenly be brought for- 
 ward in order to prove, by his confusion, the 
 
i>£TKACT10N DlSPLAYEIi. 113 
 
 ti'uth of the suspicion ; while the stinger enjoys 
 his tell-tale embarrassment, if, as is usually 
 the case, he has in some way or other been in 
 general or particular competition with his tor- 
 mentor ; and the knowledge gained by these 
 unexpected assaults on the feelings <^f these 
 unfortunates, will be communicated in the 
 next company which the stinger enters, in 
 the hypocritical language of compassion for 
 their disappointment and sufferings. 
 
 The STINGER is fond of reminding those in- 
 dividuals whom vanity may lead to speak in 
 high terms of any members of their family, of 
 some painful, lowering, depreciating circum- 
 stance connected with them. 
 
 " How is your sister ?" said a stinger to a 
 friend of mine. " Quite well," was the reply ; 
 " and though she has had ten children, she 
 looks as handsome, young, and blooming as 
 ever !" " Blooming as ever !" exclaimed the 
 stinger ; " that is very remarkable ; for tny poor 
 daughter, who is much younger, has lost her 
 colour entirely since she had a family. Pray, 
 has your sister had any return of that suspi- 
 cious pain in the side ? Poor thing ! one could 
 not help fearing for her after her youngest sis- 
 ter was taken away." 
 
 The poor brother felt the sting conveyed 
 by these words ; his joy in his elder sister's 
 brilliant bloom was damped at once ; he was 
 reminded that his youngest had died of con- 
 sumption, and that therefore the colour of the 
 survivor was, perhaps, only hectic beauty, 
 And whence this ungenerous proceeding? 
 10* 
 
114 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 The speaker's daughter had been in competi- 
 tion for beauty with the gentleman's sister, 
 and had, moreover, made a superior marriage. 
 The near relation of a celebrated man was 
 once in my presence, descanting in company 
 with too »nuch warmth, perhaps, on his talents 
 and success in life ; when a stinger who hap- 
 pened to be present, said to him, in a voice of 
 seeming kindness, " Pray does your relation 
 squint as much as he used to do and speak as 
 thickly as he once -iid "?" It was a palpable 
 hity and the eulourist felt his pride in his gifted 
 relative brought down, as the ^tin^er intended 
 that it should be ; and I saw that the stin^jer 
 enjoyed his morvification ; but he recovered 
 himself and said, that now he was reminded 
 of what he had had pleasure in forgetting ; he 
 believed his relation had still some slight re- 
 mams of the defects in question. But why 
 was this detracting speech made? The stivgrr 
 had suNs ; and the person in question had out- 
 stripped them in the race of life, which they 
 began together. 
 
 Advantageous marria<fes are snares to sting- 
 ER'<, and never fail to call their venom forth, 
 especially if they have daughters in competi- 
 tion with the marrying parties ; for parents are 
 more jealous commonly for their children, 
 than their children for tliemselves. 
 
 Two marriages were discussed one evening 
 where I was visiting, and the relations and 
 friends of the parties were rejoicing in their 
 happy prospects ; but, there was a stivger in 
 company, and to the relations of one of the 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 115 
 
 contracting parties the stinger said, " certain- 
 ly, the gentleman in question has distinguish- 
 ed abihties, and his character and situation in 
 life are unexceptionable ; but, was it ever as- 
 certained what his father's last illness was, and 
 by what means his poor mother died so sud' 
 denly ? It was a mysterious business, but poor 
 things ! I hope all that was said was not 
 true," The relations of the lady changed co- 
 lour, evaded a reply, and their smiling brow 
 was overcast. But why was this wound inflict- 
 ed? The stinger had daughters in competition 
 with the fair girl who was going to marry 
 what is called well. 
 
 The sTiNbER asked one of the other re- 
 joicers over the approaching marriage of their 
 relative with a Peer, whether Lord gam- 
 ed, and frequented New-market, as much as 
 he used to do 1 
 
 The person addressed was surprised, as he 
 
 had never heard that such were Lord 's 
 
 habits, and was much elevated at the idea of 
 his young cousin's marrying a nobleman, and 
 his pleasure was overcast, till he recollected, 
 that the report had probably originated, and 
 the communication had certainly been made, 
 through the spirit of envy. But why was this 
 pain inflicted ? The young Peeress would in 
 future take precedence of the stinger, and her 
 own daughters, who thus revenged himself for 
 the anticipated mortification. 
 
 There are many stingers in the world, 
 many who delight to give sly pinches to our 
 self-love, by implied detraction from oqr oAvn 
 
1 10 3DETRACX10N DISPLAYED. 
 
 pretensions, or those of the objects whom we 
 admire ; but, wherever this ungenerous feeling 
 exists, and is indulged, it arises from general 
 or particular competition. 
 
 The Scorner is next to be discussed. 
 
 Under the general name of scorners I in- 
 clude the supercilious and fastidious. 
 
 Dr. Johnson delines the scorner to be " a 
 contemner, despiser, scoffer, ridiculer ;" and 
 who that has ever observed the sneer of the 
 supercilious, or listened to the critical objec- 
 tions of the fastidious, but must own, that these 
 are of the family of scorn, and amongst the 
 most ready combatants in the field of detrac- 
 tion ? 
 
 Scorners are almost the most disagreeable 
 persons whom one meets in society. One is 
 leconciled to the expectation of being criti- 
 cised when one's back is turned ; but scorners 
 cannot be satisfied without inflicting their 
 sting when one is present, and 
 
 ^* The hint malevolent, the look oblique, 
 The obvious satire, the implied dislike, 
 The sneer equivocal, the barsh reply, 
 And all the cruel language of the eye ; 
 The taunting word, whose meaning kills,'** 
 
 are some of the weapons with which they try 
 to lower even the modest pretensions of others, 
 and establish, though on a sandy foundation, 
 their own superiority. 
 
 Scorn is a more common thing than I once 
 imagined it to be ; for I find, on closer inspcc- 
 
 *• Poem on Sensibility, by Hannah More. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 117 
 
 lion, that most individuals feel or express it 
 for some persons or some things. 
 
 The purse-proud often show disdain of the 
 poverty which they relieve. University scho- 
 lars betray infinite contempt for the learning 
 of those who have not had a college education. 
 Mathematicians can scarcely keep their con- 
 tumely within bounds when they argue with 
 persons, whose reasoning powers have not 
 been exercised like theirs. But thorough^ 
 bred scorners seem to have no real respect for 
 any abilities but their own. I say seem, for I 
 suspect that it is a consciousness in their heart, 
 that the talents which they depreciate are es- 
 timable, and the certainty that they are es- 
 teemed by others, which, by exciting their 
 secret envy provokes their open scorn, espe- 
 cially if the object of general praise come into 
 any near collision with them, in public or pri- 
 vate life. Therefore, the avowed contempt of 
 scorners is often an involuntary tribute to the 
 merit of its object. 
 
 Some persons carry their scorn to such a 
 diseased excess, that if they have been betray- 
 ed into praising any thing before the judgment 
 of others concerning it is known, they loudly 
 retract their favourable opinion, if they find 
 that the subject of their eulogy is the theme of 
 universal praise, and exhibit the same sort of 
 contempt for the judgment of the many, felt 
 by Phocion, who, when his opinion in a pub- 
 lic debate was received with universal applause, 
 turned to his friends and said, " Have I inad- 
 vertently let slip something wrong ?" 
 
MS DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 Are the works of modern painters exhibited 
 to scorners, they eagerly assure the exhibiter 
 that they never look at any pictures but those 
 by old masters ; and should the generous and 
 candid encourager of modern art venture to 
 say, that if all persons had the same exclusive 
 taste, artists of the present day must starve ; 
 and therefore, if he did not really admire their 
 works, he should buy them, because modern 
 xirtists must live, — I doubt not, but as the 
 French wit of former days replied to a poor 
 applicant who said to him, *' II faut que je 
 vive,"* the scorner would superciliously an- 
 swer, " Je n'en vois pas la necessite."f 
 
 If a book by a modern author is the theme 
 of conversation, the male or female scorner 
 will reply, (for there are scorners of both 
 eexes,) " Really I tried to read it, but it was 
 eo dull I could not get on ;" especially if the 
 work be by a friend, or associate ; or if asked 
 whether they have read what a particular ac- 
 quaintance has lately written, the answer is, 
 «< Oh, no ! I know him (or her) too well to read 
 liis (or her) productions. Life is too short for 
 me to read all the books from which I can 
 reasonably expec* to learn something." In 
 vain might they be told, that they undervalued 
 the talents of the author, and that it was un- 
 candid and invidious to condemn any thing un- 
 read. Scorners wish not to retract a depre- 
 ciating opinion, they have a satisfaction in ut- 
 tering it, they fancy fastidiousness a proof of 
 
 * I must live. 
 
 ■i I do not see the necessilv of vour livinfr,. 
 
LfElTRACTION DISPLAVED. 119 
 
 superior taste, and pique themselves oti not 
 even looking into pages, which their com-^ 
 panions have a generous pleasure in eommend- 
 ing. 
 
 Is the speech of any celebrated orator of ther 
 day loudly commended m the presence of a 
 scorner, and his assent to the universal plaudit 
 required, the reply is, " Why, really, I have 
 hoard much better even in these days of false 
 taste and showy ignorance, and I have read 
 w^hat the finest modern orator could not only 
 never equal, but, probably, not understand ;'' 
 and if any one replies, '' I cannot answer for 
 others, but / never heard or read any thing ta 
 be compared to the speech in question ;" the 
 scorner answers with the shortened lip and 
 drawling tone of exquisite disdain, " I pre- 
 sume you do not read Demosthenes,^^ 
 
 Gainsborough, the painter, is reported to* 
 have said of William Pitt, " That man has a 
 nose turned up at all the world ;" but though 
 his nose might be peculiarly calculated to ex- 
 press disdain, I have seen its expression equal- 
 ly strong, where that feature has been strait 
 or hooked ; but, to use a strong metaphor, the 
 nose of the mind of the scorner is turned up 
 against almost all things and persons ; conse- 
 quently scorners deprive themselves of one 
 of the sweetest enjoyments of a benevolent 
 mind, that of feeling and expressing admira- 
 tion. But alas ! I fear, that though the few 
 may feel a generous eagerness to admire and 
 praise, the many are equally eager, and more 
 twly gratified, to discover fa^ilts and to ex- 
 
yiO DETKACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 press contempt, as exhibited in the following 
 fable. 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY^S MULE.* 
 
 When the 8th Henry rule o'er England held. 
 And Wolsey's heart with high ambition swell'd, 
 Leo the 10th, then Pope, a cunninji^ man, 
 To expedite, 'tis said, sorae papal plan, 
 (Some league, 1 think, he wanted done or undone,) 
 Cardinal Campeggio sent from Rome to London, 
 (With our wise Cardinal Wolsey's leave, I ween ; 
 For he, of all that ere were seen, 
 From house of Johnny Groat, to straits called Dardanelles* 
 Was the most great and powerful of Cardinals.) 
 
 But rich was Wolsey, and Campeggio />oor; 
 
 Too poor to make a show 
 
 Fit for his rank, I trow ; 
 Therefore, well knowing to ensure respect, 
 How needful pomp and stale were for eftect, 
 Wolsey desired, that by his grooms or guards, 
 Twelve of his mules should saddled be directly. 
 And dress'd and bridled, as for him, correctly; 
 But, not to follow him ; no —his intent 
 Was that these mules should be sent off to Kent. 
 
 Then, as to give large gifts he ne'er was loth. 
 Our Cardinal, of the finest scarlet cloth. 
 Sent for Caropeggio's use some hundred yards. 
 While thus the Cardinal made this grand beginnbg. 
 His grooms in his mules' ears were dinning; 
 
 ** Get up ! ye long ear'd animals and trot ! - 
 
 Whether you will or not ; 
 
 You must not lie here idle ; 
 
 But take the bit and bridle ; 
 And though you were hard-work'd all yesterday, 
 You must go out again. Up, up, I say ! 
 And ere three days are over, 
 Be with some great outlandish priest at Dover. 
 
 " Was ever cruelty like this, dear brother .'^* 
 (One of the mules exclaimed unto another;) 
 
 * For the anedote on which this fable is founded, ses 
 Gait's interesting Life of Wolsey, 
 
I 
 
 S>ETIlACTlON DISPLAYED, 12! 
 
 *• But j«fst return'd from a lonj journey must I 
 *Goout again ? No, if I do — " ♦♦ hush, Crusty," 
 7'he other said ; " we must obey our lord." 
 ** Not I, indeed, for must's an odious word, 
 And suits not, slavish sir, the ear of mule ; 
 For obstinate as a mule you know, 
 Js an old proverb, so 1 will not go, 
 Will not submit to tyranny and rule; 
 And rather than this tyrant priest obey,'* 
 This male, called Crusty, cried, "/V/ run away.^ 
 
 So said, so done ; but he again was caught. 
 And by most heavy stripes obedience taught; 
 But in his brother's ear he said, 
 *'- Mark me ! I'll not fo?'g-et this heating, neighbour: 
 Nor the commands unreasonable, 
 Which make me quit the stable. 
 As soon as I am warm in bed, 
 And only just come back from other labour, 
 My task-masters shall rue 
 The deed which I will do. 
 And, coute qui coute, though noiv my rage I smother, 
 S'll be reveng'd for this some way or other !" 
 
 % 
 
 Then, mildly to the bit submitting, 
 Crusty did all was thought befitting ; 
 
 And ere Campegglo and his suit were over. 
 
 The mules and scarlet cloth arrived at Dover; 
 
 Tlie cloth o'er all the raulerj was to be spread . 
 
 In riowing draperies of gorgeous red ; 
 And o'er the trunks and coffers, 
 Which, in defiance of all scoffers. 
 
 The people, credulous elves ! 
 
 As tliey beheld them strapp'd upon each mule, 
 
 Thought of indulgencies were full. 
 
 And pardons, too, for their poor, sinful selves ; 
 
 But, (quite another thing,) 
 
 Of costly presents for their sovereign king. 
 
 Glad was the Cardinal the mules to see. 
 And the fine scarlet cloth, and glad was he 
 To find, as will be readily heliev'd. 
 The English folks could be so soon deceiv'<J, 
 As to imagine trunks which nothing held. 
 At all worth two-pence, were with treasures sweird :, 
 
 11 
 
122 0£X^ACI105f »IS.PLAYEP, 
 
 And his delight was far beyond expression, 
 "When on, at last, he went in grand procession^ 
 Because they mov'd in such slow time along, 
 He well could hear the praises of the throng: 
 For a foot's pace the mules were forc'd to go. 
 To seem as if their burthens made them slow ; 
 But he, the rebel mule, who knew the iruihf 
 Crusty, I mean, a most revengeful youth, 
 He was resolv'd that truth should soon be known. 
 However — the sequel I shall tell anon. 
 
 Meanwhile, as on they went, what veneration 
 The sight call'd forth ! and some by kneeling, 
 And crossing of themselves, declared their feeling; 
 Others, by shouts of admiration ; 
 I^ ! at Blackheath, nobles and gentlemen. 
 And prelates too, a splendid scene ! 
 Came in procession all 
 To meet the Cardinal ; 
 And in the Borough all the clergy came,. 
 Their love and reverence to proclaim I 
 The livery of London lin'dthe street — 
 A livery they with loyalty replete, 
 With heads so soft, and hearts so malleable, 
 *rhey thought Pope, King, and Cardinal infallible^ 
 The aldermen and great lord mayor, 
 They too in civic pomp were there, 
 And did the Cardinal homage ; then before 
 His mole, the fam'd Sir Thomas More ; 
 The learn'd, the witty, 
 Well-pleas'd, to please the cily, 
 A§ he the learned languages was pat in, 
 Spoke a tine speech ofwelcorae all in Latin I 
 In shortj.where'er the pleas'd Campeggio rode, 
 E*en thousands hail'd him as an earthly god ; 
 But " pride must have a fall," bethought himself^ 
 Crusty, that runaway and beaten elf. 
 
 And as I hinted heretofore. 
 
 He, knowing what the cofiers really bore, 
 Rfeaolved to expose the poor and priestly trick : 
 
 And just as the procession reach'd Cheapside, 
 
 In all the swelling climax of its pride, 
 
 Cfusty began alarmingly to kick. 
 
 Then, what disorder in the line was seen ; 
 TIte mii1%> with afl tbe force of vengeful spleen ; 
 
UETR ACTIOS DISPLAYED. 123 
 
 Threw oflf his rider and the trunks he bore j 
 And his example many more 
 Of his companions quickly follow'd, 
 Till on the ground were roll'd 
 The chests, that seem'd with pardons stor'd, and gold ; 
 And while the crowd now hooted, scream'd, and hollotv'4} 
 Coffers and trunks flew open in the fall 
 Discovering to the eyes of all, 
 Instead of treasure-beariag bags, 
 A mean display of beggary, scraps, and rags .; 
 And holding up to just derision, 
 
 These proofs of priestly craft and imposition*. 
 Oh ! it was joy e*en to the shouting crowd. 
 They, who in cheers and adoration 
 Had been beyond a doubt most loud, 
 Were still, I fear, more ready to abuse 
 ^Than to admire. Such is the English aati^ 
 Nay, every other too 1 ween : 
 
 For wheresoever social man is seen ; 
 (A truth there's no disputing,) 
 The crowd would rather choose 
 To follow e'en their greatest men with hootiiig. 
 Than with applause&4 this is human nature ; 
 And poor Campeggio, disappointed creature^, 
 Was by a mob of women, men, boys, misses. 
 Followed with hootings, stones, and hisses^ 
 Till, line and order gone, fee, belter skelter. 
 Was glad to go 
 A grand gallop, 
 And in the palace find a welconie shelter* 
 Pleas'd was the vengeful mule ; 
 And he who was no fool, 
 ObservVl, " I thought their cheers and praises loud ; 
 But when while they applauded, 
 i kicked the first deception to the ground." 
 And thence the admirers found 
 The hoUowness of what they lauded, 
 The hootings then that rent the air, 
 And eke the hisses, far, far louder were, 
 And seem'd to come from them with more good Will : 
 *' Hence, 1 infer," said Crusty to his brother, 
 •** That though men often love to praise each olhepj 
 Jq finding fault they've more enjoynrciat sfTn-" 
 
124 DETRACTION DISPLArEI>. 
 
 The sNEERER is next to be treated of. 
 
 The SNEERKR is of the same family as the 
 scorner, but the scorner disgusts by a sense of 
 his own worth, the sneerer by an evident con- 
 viction of the defects of others. 
 
 The true sneerer sneers at every body and 
 every thing, even the weather he speaks of 
 with sneering bitterness, as thus : " I suppose 
 some people call this spring, but I call it win* 
 terJ^^ He then takes the opportunity of add* 
 ing, " yet I met my old friend G. just now 
 without a great coat, affeetmg to be young.'^ 
 ** So your old friend T," says one of his ac- 
 quaintances, " IS made a baronet." " How 
 proper !" he replies, " he shouM bear the 
 bloody hand^ as his grandfather was a butcher.'^ 
 
 " I hear," says another, ** that our friend 
 C. is going to travel." ^' Who pays his ex^ 
 penses ?" replies the sneerer, " Himself" 
 " Indeed ! if he waited a year or two longer, I 
 dare say he would be sent abroad at the ex- 
 pense of the government, and for life." 
 
 " I find,'^ says some one to a female sneer- 
 er^ (for there are such,) " that Miss M. is go- 
 ing to publish a book." " Very likely," re- 
 turns the sneerer^ " for I see she has no time 
 to comb her hair or mend her stockings." 
 " I met William R. and his wife just now m 
 such high spirits," observes another friend. 
 " I conclude it was after dinner then," re- 
 plies the sneerer. It is thus true sneerers talk^ 
 not like scorners, insinuating their own supe- 
 riority, but taking a mean pleasure in depre- 
 ciating whoever and whatever may be named, 
 
DETRACTION Digpi*AyjE;D. 1:25 
 
 4n their presence. Irony is a weapon which 
 sneerers are very skilful in using, and it is dif- 
 ficult to know how to conduct one's self with 
 propriety, when one is conscious of being at- 
 tacked by it. It is more dignified not to be- 
 tray one's consciousness, that the compliments 
 addressed to us are ironical, but then it is very 
 mischievous to the treacherous utterers of 
 them, as it encourages them to continue the 
 unworthy^ practice, whereas immediate detec- 
 tion might frighten them into amendment. 
 
 But then the exposure must be made with 
 great gentleness and self-command, else avow- 
 ed or secret hostility is the consequence ; and 
 there are few persons who, smarting under the 
 consciousness of intended injury, can coolly 
 reprove and mildly expostulate. Therefore, 
 silence is safest on such occasions, and one 
 must let the flattering traitor suppose one's va- 
 nity is so gross, as not to discover the lurking 
 sarcasm and the insidious sne^er. 
 
 I must add, that ironical praise appears to 
 me to proceed from a spirit more deserving 
 than almost any other of the name of diabolic 
 cal. 
 
 In the first place, if the speakers expect to 
 have their praise received as sincere, it is a 
 cruel snare to the vanity of the persons ad- 
 dressed, while it exposes them to the derision 
 of the rest of the company. In the second 
 place, if the object of the flattery sees and feels 
 the intended ridicule, a pang is wantonly in- 
 flicted on the heart of a fellow-creatare, whtCh 
 
12ti^ i>ETRACTiON I>ISFLAYED* 
 
 no human being is waranted to inflict on ano- 
 ther — 
 
 " For, let the ungentle spirit learn from hence, 
 A small unkindness is a great qffcnce.^^ 
 
 Before I proceed to the next class of detract- 
 ors, I beg leave to make a few remarks on 
 some, who seem to have a family likeness to 
 scorners and sneerers, by the frequent use of 
 this phrase, '' Oh ! for my part, 1 like nothing 
 but what isfirst-rate.^^ 
 
 I never hear this expression without wonder- 
 ing, not only at the arrogant assumption of su- 
 perior taste in the person speaking, but at their 
 courage also in making such a conceited avow- 
 al ; and when, for my own satisfaction, I have 
 analyzed the talents of the parties, I have 
 found these despisers of mediocrity were not 
 much above mediocrity themselves ; no won- 
 der, for real talent is commonly indulgent. 
 
 But the declaration has excited my pity ; for, 
 as enjoyment is to be derived from every gra- 
 dation of talent in art, as well as in the beauties 
 of nature, these exclusive admirers of first- rates 
 lose a considerable degree of innocent plsasure, 
 by their superior refinement ; and happy, on 
 the contrary, are those who have an humbler 
 taste. 
 
 First-rate conversation is said, and with 
 truth, to be met with chiefly in the circles of 
 the metropolis, because there is the greatest as- 
 semblage of conversationalists of distinguished 
 abilities. What objects of pity, then, must 
 the intellectual residents of a country town 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 127 
 
 •)c, if they could endure no conversation that 
 was not first-rate ? 
 
 The exertions of provincial artists would be 
 paralyzed, and the advantages of their annual 
 exhibition annihilated, if their fellow-citizens 
 should ever give in to the pretension of not 
 liking any thing but what is called first-rate. 
 
 And how much innocent enjoyment would 
 be lost to parents and their children also, if, 
 when the former are wishing and intending to 
 exhibit their performances in art, the persons 
 addressed should observe with a supercilious 
 expression of countenance, *' For my part, I 
 never look at any paintings, or drawings, but 
 what are first-rate." 
 
 But is this fastidiousness a proof of the supe- 
 rior refinement of taste to which it seems to 
 lay claim 1 I think not. 
 
 Who could believe those persons to be real 
 admirers of the simple melody of the woods, 
 that should declare their contempt of all sing- 
 ing, but that of the nightingale? The lover of 
 the sweet song of birds loves it in all its varie- 
 ties, and thinks it beautiful in all. 
 
 And who could give those critics credit for 
 a real love of painting, who should declare that 
 they could look at no portraits at the exhibition 
 but those of the president and the academicians, 
 because they could not endure any pictures, 
 but what they had reason to conclude were 
 first-rate? since those who have a true feeling 
 of art, and possess a discriminating eye, can 
 find beauties even amongst works by less dis- 
 tinguished exhibitors. 
 
128 BE^RACTION DISPLAYEX),* 
 
 And do they really love poetry who can 
 only read what they consider as first-rate 1 No, 
 the true lover of it can delight occasionally in 
 a simple ballad, as much as a fine epic, and can 
 enjoy every gradation of verse between those 
 two extremes. 
 
 An aptitude to be pleased is one of the sweet- 
 est sources of sublunary enjoyment ; and pa- 
 rents and preceptors would do wisely, I think, 
 to cultivate in their children and pupils in- 
 dulgent rather than fastidious views not only 
 of men but of things, if it were merely as a 
 means of increasing their pleasurable feelings, 
 and consequently their happiness. 
 
 I beg leave to conclude these observations 
 with the following anecdote on the subject of 
 first-rates, " I have quite an aversion," said 
 a gentleman one day to a friend of mine, " to 
 every thing not fir sl-rate^ especially in poetry, 
 and never read any thing that has not a well 
 known name attached to it." " I am sorry to 
 hear it," replied my friend, taking a manu- 
 script out of her pocket ; '* as I have some 
 verses here by an anonymous author, which 
 appear to me to have great merit, perhaps you 
 will oblige me by casting your eye over them." 
 
 He compHed, but soon returned them say- 
 ing, *' Excuse me ! there is not merit here suf- 
 ficient to induce me to break through my rule. 
 There is nothing first-rate here." 
 
 ** Well," replied the other, " I can only say, 
 that I found these lines in an obscure magazine, 
 and nameless, I maintain that the best poets 
 of the day might be glad to own them !" arrd 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 129 
 
 the critic and the eulogist parted with, no 
 doubt, a decreased respect for each other's taste 
 and critical acumen. 
 
 The verses in question, were those anony- 
 mous Hnes on Sir John Moore's funeral, which 
 Lord Byron was not sorry to have considered 
 to be his ; written, as has since been proved, 
 by Charles Wolfe, an Irish clergyman ; lines 
 which forced their way out of obscurity into 
 fame by their own power and beauty ; and 
 which, now that they have received the meed 
 of universal praise, are no doubt read by the 
 critic above-mentioned, and admitted to be 
 first'T'ite, 
 
 Alas ! that a wreath of laurel so bright and 
 beautiful never bloomed around the brows of 
 him who earned it, and can only ornament 
 his tomb. 
 
 But the consciousness of his pious worth, is 
 a far more precious memorial of him to his sur- 
 viving friends ; and as his character as a chris- 
 tian gives them assurance of his being removed 
 into a state of enduring felicity, they may find 
 a sweet consolation in twining the palm with 
 his laurels, and rejoice that he is where, in- 
 stead of the fleeting voice of earthly fame, he 
 is hearing and joining in the choral hymns of 
 the red^^emed and the blest. 
 
 When I had written thus far concerning 
 first-rates^ I walked out ; but as my mind was 
 full of my subject, I continued to muse on it, 
 till I reached the place of destination, a neigh- 
 bouring nursery-ground. 
 
 After choosing some plants, I asked the 
 
130 TJETRACTION DISPLAYED.. 
 
 narsery-man if he could procure for me some 
 roots of the "Forget me not" He said he 
 did not know of such a flower. *• It is but a 
 field flower,'' I replied ; describing it and its 
 beauties with great minuteness. 
 
 While I stood awaiting an answer, and the 
 person addressed was rubbing his forehead, 
 and trying to recollect the flower, i worked 
 myself up into the expectation of hearing him 
 answer, " Excuse me, madam, I cannot assist 
 you. This is only a field flower, you say, and 
 I deal in nothing but first-rates, such as the 
 Camellia Japonica, and Daphne Odora ;" but 
 my unpretending companion simply replied^ 
 ** I am sorry to say, that as I do not know the 
 plant I cannot procure it " 
 
 Now to apply this trifling anecdote to my 
 purpose : by being wholly devoted to the care 
 of first-rate plants, my nursery-man was igno- 
 rant even of the existence of one of the most 
 beautiful little flowers in the creation ; and I 
 doubt not but, on the same principle, profess- 
 ed critics may, if they choose to acquaint them- 
 selves with first-rates only, remain ignorant 
 of many works both in painting and poetry, 
 and other branches of art, which are capable 
 of affording them no inconsiderable delight. 
 There are field flowers on the Parnassian 
 Mount, as well as those of a more lofty descrip- 
 tion ; and the real lovers of the simple beauties 
 of nature will stoop to admire and gather them, 
 even in the presence of prouder productions 
 af the soil. 
 
 Often have I gathered and demanded admi- 
 
DJBTEACTION DISPLAYED. 131 
 
 ration for the " Forget me not," from those 
 who were admiring the flowers of the garden ; 
 and I feel incUned to make a similar appeal to 
 the fastidious and high-minded, who profess 
 to disdain every thing noi/crat-ratej in behalf 
 of those humbler works, in all branches of the 
 arts which may be called their field Jt^wers^ 
 The blue stars of the scorpion grass are as fine- 
 ly formed as the large compact flower of the 
 Camellia Japonica — yet, to be consistent, the 
 lover of first-rates only should turn away from 
 the simple " Forget me not," and only desire 
 to gaze on the cultivated rose of Japan. Cir- 
 cumstances, interesting to myself alone, have 
 made this little flower particularly dear to me ; 
 I have therefore chosen it to illustrate the fore- 
 going position. 
 
 But it has for me a charm, independent of its 
 blue and starry beauty. " Forget me not," the 
 name it bears in Germany, makes it a fit flower 
 to deck a burial-ground, and I intend that it 
 shall bloom on the grave of the being whom 
 I loved best, and I am desirous that it should 
 also bloom upon my grave besnie him.* 
 
 I have endeavoured to prove, in this long 
 
 * The Botanical name of this oft mistaken flower, the 
 real " Forget me not," is twofold. The large sort is the 
 Myosotis Palustur ; the larger is Myorotis Arvensis, or 
 mouse-eared Scorpion Grass; the one grows in marshes, 
 the other in fields. It has five bright sky blue petals, with 
 a bright yellow middle ; some of the buds are of a pink 
 hue. The larger sort of this plant flowers and grows in 
 such great abundance on the banks of the Wye and the 
 Thames, that it forms masses of blue ; and were it capa- 
 ble of growing in the soil of a garderi, it would be one of 
 ''gmosl beautiful ornaments. 
 
132 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 division of my subject* that gossips, though 
 not the worst of detractors, must be the most 
 incorrigible, because by letting down their 
 minds, by idle habits, they are become inca- 
 pable of improvement. 
 
 That TALKERS-OVER Rfc the most numerous 
 of detractors, because in them are included 
 one's own and every body's acquaintance. 
 
 That LAUGHERs-AT are nearly related to 
 those that " sit in the seat of the scornful." 
 
 That the eye of the laugher-at seems always 
 full of satirical laughter, which is not always 
 kept in till its object is out of hearing. 
 
 That where there are many brothers and sis- 
 ters in a family, a habit of laughing atj others 
 is often only too easily acquired. 
 
 That habitual satirical laughter in woman is 
 likely to interfere with her prospects in life. 
 
 That Q,uizzERb maybe of the family of ban- 
 terers, but that quizzing itself is so vulgar and 
 disagreeable, that I shall not give a definition 
 of it. 
 
 That BANTERERs begin with good-humour- 
 ed jokes, but end commonly with making a 
 but of some one in company ; and then their 
 raillery becomes offensive. 
 
 That the banterer is sometimes met by ano- 
 ther banterer, and conquered, and then woe to 
 the banterer ; as the bantered, who had been 
 the victim of the first banterer, have no mercy 
 on him. 
 
 ThatNicKNAMERS arc prominent detractors, 
 but more amusing and less offensive than some 
 
DETRACTlOxV DISFLAVED. 133 
 
 others. But that nicknaming is a vulgar habit, 
 and proceeds from a satirical spirit. 
 
 That by stingers I mean, those who inflict 
 as sudden slings on the mind and feelings, 
 as a little fly called a midge, inflicts on the 
 body, especially if the objects of their attack 
 have mortified their self-love, by having been 
 in successful competition with themselves, or 
 any of their connections. 
 
 That scoRNERs are necessarily and always 
 detractors. That they have no respect for any 
 abiUties but their own. That in secret, how- 
 ever, they probably are envious of the success- 
 ful talents which they seem to despise. That 
 scorners are, from their appearance of ineffa- 
 ble conceit, the most ungraceful and offensive 
 of detractors. 
 
 That the sneerer does not disgust like the 
 scorner, by a sense of his own worth, but by 
 an expressed conviction of the defects of others. 
 That he has an habitual pleasure in detracting. 
 That irony is a favourite weapon of the sneer- 
 er, and that ironical praise is one of the most 
 difficult things to bear as one ought. 
 
 That for any one to say, ** I can only bear 
 what is FIRST-RATE," looks like excessive 
 conceit and arrogant pretensions ; and that for 
 one^s own sake and comfort, as well as of 
 others, we ought to cultivate a capability of 
 being pleased with what is not first-rate. 
 
 And I conclude with an anecdote relative to 
 myself, to illustrate the latter position. 
 
 12 
 
134 DETRACTION DISPLA.yEf;^ 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ON PRACTICAL 1>ETRACTI0N. 
 
 I AM now come to the class of practical 
 DETRACTORS, and I shall give them a chapter 
 to themselves. 
 
 I shall begin with the eye-inflicters. 
 
 I originally stated, that detraction is of two 
 kinds, and that there are detracting looks and 
 actions, as well as words. 
 
 Ta these detractors by looks, I give the 
 name of eye-infligters. 
 
 This noun I have derived from a verb in- 
 vented, I believe, by Dr. Parr. 
 
 I have often heard Dr. Parr say, " / itijlici* 
 ed my pajc on such a one !" meaning, that hav- 
 ing happened to meet a public character who 
 had, in his opinion, forfeited his political in- 
 tegrity, he had fixed his powerful eye upon 
 him, as if he would look him through, in order 
 to make his conscience tremble at the piercing 
 glance of an honourable and consistent man ; 
 and, in humble imitation of this learned ex- 
 ample, I have ventured to make the word eye^ 
 injlicter. But different from the virtuous in- 
 dignation expressed by Dr. Parr's powerful 
 eye, is the mean warfare waged against the 
 feelings by the eye-inflicter. The glance 
 of the eye-inflicters, in my sense of the term, 
 wanders with a keen, minutely-searching 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 135 
 
 glance over the whole person and dress, as if 
 in order to discover faults and negligences ; and 
 it sometimes settles on us with a cold, cruel 
 expression, which is deeply felt, but cannot 
 be described. 
 
 The eye-inflicter, then, usually seeks the 
 kindred glance of another of the species, in a 
 near relative or intimate companion ; and they 
 convey the look of ridicule backwards and for- 
 wards from one eye to the other, till, against 
 the unfortunate object of their tongueless but 
 evident satire, an external warfare is carried 
 on by a sort of battledore and shuttlecock 
 process from glance to glance, while the help- 
 less victim feels certain of being laughed at, 
 though nought but kind words may proceed 
 from the eye-inflicter's lips. 
 
 Can any one deny, who reads this descrip- 
 tion, that they have not, at some period of 
 their lives, undergone the torture of this eye- 
 infliction ? There is another species of practi- 
 cal detraction, connected with eye-infliction, 
 which I have before alluded to ; namely, that 
 of ftkrugs, winks, and other actions of the 
 kind. 
 
 It is in the power of any person^ by winks 
 of the eye, by shrugs of the shoulders, by 
 shakes, and nods of the head, and the occasion- 
 al judicious elevation of the hands, to stamp any 
 narrator of a story, in any company, with the 
 brand o^ falsehood. Incredulity staring from 
 the lifted eye, sneering from the shortened 
 upper lip, and speaking, as it were, from the 
 nodding head and the shrugging shoulders ! 
 
1^6 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 And what is this but detraction ! which, though 
 acted and not uttered, is sufficient for the pur- 
 pose intended, that of depreciating and injur- 
 ing its, perhaps, unconscious and innocent 
 object. With the following appropriate Unes 
 from Childe Harold I shall conclude my sub* 
 ject. 
 
 From mighty wrongs, to petty per6dy, 
 Have I not se^^n what human things could do ? 
 From the loud roar of foaming calumny, 
 To the small whisper of the as paltry (eWt 
 And subtler venom of the reptile crew. 
 The Janus glance of whose significant eye^ 
 Learning to lie with silence^ vrould seem true, 
 And without utterance, save the shrug or sigh. 
 Deal round to happy fools its speechless obloquy. 
 
 MiMicKs, on whom I must now comment, 
 combine both species of detraction — the ut- 
 tered as well as the acted, and can, therefore, 
 boast a double power to lower their fellow- 
 creatures, and make them subservient to their 
 will and pleasure, whf^ther they will or no. 
 
 Accomplished mimicks possess a privilege 
 like that of the magicians of old, and can not 
 only raise up before our eyes the face, actions, 
 and the manner of the absent and the dead, 
 but can bring the sound of their voices to our 
 ears. Sometimes, the delusion of mimicking 
 is perfect ; I mean, it is so free from exaggera- 
 tion and carricature, that even the mimicked 
 would scarcely have been offended, had they 
 been hearers or witnesses of it. But this, in- 
 deed, is mimicking on its good behaviour, and 
 in its holiday garb ; on common occasions, and 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 137 
 
 in its working dress, caricature and exaggera- 
 tion are its meat and drink, the spirit of de- 
 traction is its soul, and its object, mischievous 
 ridicule. 
 
 A talent for mimickry is a very dangerous 
 snare ; and to possess and not to use it is one 
 of the most enviable triumphs of good princi- 
 ple. There is scarcely any talent whose ex- 
 ertion gives so much pleasure. It not only 
 gratifies the vanity of the mimick, but grati- 
 fies that of the hearers ; for a good piece of mim- 
 ickry is a sort of conundrum or charade ; it is a 
 something to exercise one's ingenuity in guess- 
 ing , and happy those who can first exclaim, 
 " Oh ! how like ! I never saw such a hkeness !" 
 
 And how difficult it is, when we are in com- 
 pany with professed mimicks, to abstain from 
 tempting them to do what one considers to be 
 wrong, by asking them to give a specimen of 
 their powers. Departed public characters may 
 be considered as fair subjects for this power to 
 be exercised upon ; and were the mimick to 
 stop there, it might be narrow and absurd to 
 disapprove the exhibition. But the permitted/ 
 use of a thing often leads to its abuse ; the«' 
 mimick would be tempted to go on, and exhi- 
 bit the living as well as the dead ; private per- 
 sons would succeed, in the mimick's magic 
 Jantern, to public characters; the audience, too 
 much amused to reprove, would encourage, by 
 their laughter and their praise, to further dar- 
 ing, till acquaintances, friends, and, probably, 
 relations^ would be made to join in this new 
 •* da7ic6 of death ;^^ for such exhibitions may 
 
138 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 well be said to consist of the wounded and the 
 maimed ; and the sweet confidence, the holy 
 trusts of private and domestic life, are broken 
 up and destroyed ; for what must appear to the 
 hearers and spectators, on reflection^ a heart- 
 less and an ungenerous enjoyment. 
 
 I have said on rffleclion, for there is such a 
 charm about perfect imitations of this nature, 
 it is only when the exhibition is over, that we 
 can be alive to the real meanness of the dis- 
 play, and to the self-blame to which it ought 
 to lead. 
 
 It is mean, because it is treacherous ; and it 
 is treacherous, because such displays can only 
 take place in the absence and without the know- 
 ledge of the persons exhibited ; as such exhibi- 
 tions would not only be uncalled for in their 
 presence, but the mimick, if called upon, would 
 not dare to comply. 
 
 That exertion of talent which, in-order to be 
 safe, must depend on the secresy of those who 
 witness it, because, if known to the persons on 
 whom it is exerted, it might call forth in them 
 pain and mortification, together with lasting 
 hatred to the mimick, if a woman, and personal 
 chastisement to the offender, if a man, cannot 
 be beheld, on reflection, with aught but serious 
 disapproval, by a religious, or even by a mere- 
 ly moral being. But whence is it that most, 
 if not all, persons are more offended and hurt 
 at being taken off\ as it is called, than by be- 
 ing unjustly spoken of, severely censured, or 
 even made the subjects of defamation? because 
 such is the weakness of human nature, that it 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYKD. 139 
 
 shrinks more from personal ridicule, and from 
 what seems to call in question our powers to 
 please, in looks, voice, manner, and gesture, 
 than from any imputed want of morals and con- 
 duct. Hence it is that mimicks, though often 
 the most courted, are the most dreaded of com- 
 panions ; and though the most amusing of our 
 acquaintance are the most distrusted and dis- 
 liked also, and that they are considered as the 
 most formidable detractors in society, because 
 one can scarcely help admitting that they are 
 the most entertaining. 
 
 And if it be permitted to any one to rejoice 
 in witnessing the administration of retributive 
 justice, it must be when notorious and unspar- 
 ing mimicks are mimicked in their turn, and 
 held up to the laughter and the ridicule, which 
 they have so often called forth on others. But, 
 for this retribution to be complete, it should 
 be wimesscd by the offenders themselves ; and 
 then, perhaps, they too might be taught to re- 
 member the precept which they had hitherto 
 despised — *' Do unto others what you would 
 that others should do unto you." If I should 
 be asked whether I do not believe, that mi- 
 mickry may take place where there is neither 
 general nor particular composition, I must an- 
 swer, yes ; because actors, singers, preachers, 
 orators, are often mimicked in society, with 
 whom unprofessional mimicks can come nei- 
 ther into general or particular competition ; 
 but the case is different when the mimickry is 
 employed on private individuals ; for then, I 
 doubt not, that the mimick exerts his power 
 
i40 DETRACTION DISPLAYEli. 
 
 on particular persons, and is asked so to em» 
 ploy them from a desire to lower them, and 
 see them lowered, existing in himself, or those 
 who require him to exert his talent for their 
 amusement. 
 
 It is a remarkable fact, that I have never 
 known a single mimick who, from some de- 
 fect in articulation, some peculiar tone of 
 voice, or some provincial yet characteristic 
 habit of speaking, was not liable to be mimick- 
 ed even with more than common facility ; and 
 I have been forcibly reminded, on such occa- 
 sions, of the old proverb, " Those whose heads 
 are made of glass should be careful how they 
 throw stones." 
 
 Before I quit this subject, I must venture to 
 address some words of friendly admonition to 
 the young of both sexes ; especially those in 
 whom the tendency to satirize and ridicule is 
 not easily kept within due bounds. 
 
 A satirical detracting sj>irit is a worldly spi- 
 rit ; and in nothing does it show itself more 
 than in the critical spirit with which some 
 who go regularly to their place of worship, 
 listen to what they hear there. 
 
 Public performers of all descriptions may be 
 just objects of criticism to those who frequent 
 public places ; and at public meetings of various 
 kinds, the speakers may be commented upon, 
 if judged with candour, and with a willingness 
 to approve, and a reluctance to condemn. But 
 it is not with a critical spirit that we are to 
 enter the house of worship. 
 
 It is desirable, undoubtedly, that all teachers 
 
detbactiojSt displayed. 141 
 
 of the word should be able to give it in a voice 
 and manner calculated to allure the attention, 
 and gratify the taste ; but there is a gift far be- 
 yond them in value : namely, that of heartfelt 
 piety, and a power of uttering ** the deep 
 things of God," even though it be in ** weak- 
 ness, fear, and trembling," and those who en- 
 ter a place of worship in a proper frame of 
 mind, look not at the manner, because they 
 become absorbed in the matter ; nor will such 
 be disposed to congregate after the church ser- 
 vice is over, and the meeting broken up, with 
 those who are of a mocking spirit, and who 
 take an unworthy pleasure in pointing out the 
 defects of the preachers, while some of them, 
 perhaps, add offensive mimickry to their ill- 
 feit criticism. 
 
 This sort of mimickry, that of preachers of 
 the gospel, is by far the most offensive ; for it 
 not only is casting ridicule upon holy things, 
 but it shows in what an improper state of mind 
 the listeners were, when uniting, apparently^ 
 with their fellow-christians in religious duties ; 
 and proves that they were marking for their 
 prey the defects of pious teachers, whom they 
 afterwards accosted, probably, with seeming 
 love and reverence, but from whom they turn- 
 ed away with a proud consciousness how well 
 they had learnt to play them qff\ at no very dis- 
 tant moment, for the amusement of others, and 
 the gratification of their own vanity. 
 
 Nor is this treachery the worst part of the 
 inimick's offence : even the least spiritual of 
 public preachers, whatever be their denomina- 
 
142 DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 
 
 tion, do not use in their church or meeting- 
 house the same language as at a dinner-table ; 
 and if not holding up to their hearers' view 
 the terrors of death and judgment, their sub- 
 jects are at least too serious and important to 
 be made the objects of ridicule. Therefore, 
 what does the mimick of preachers do ] He 
 utters with mocking lips words which relate 
 to things which ought never to be named with 
 derision, by real or even seeming christians. 
 
 He utters in a deriding spirit what he knows 
 was spoken with the holiest ; and thereby of- 
 fends, not only against the unconscious object 
 of his mimickry, but against Him of whom the 
 preacher probably spoke ; and what is still more 
 culpable, the mimick uttered words which he, 
 in his secret heart, perhaps, believed were 
 taught by Him, the Holy one of Israel ! Now 
 the mimick is either a believer, or he is not. 
 If he does not believe, a preacher or teacher of 
 the word of God is not more sacred in his eyes 
 than another man, nor are the words he speaks. 
 
 But if he be a convinced christian, the case 
 is otherwise, and it is certain he would resent 
 being requested by any one to read a chapter 
 in the bible or a prayer in a way so peculiar as 
 to excite the laughter of his audience. Yet, 
 what does the mimick do when he imitates 
 preachers? He puts serious, and perhaps scrip- 
 tural words into their mouths ; words, listened 
 to not as the vehicle of holy thoughts, and 
 awakeners to holy feelings, but in order to 
 excite admiration of his powers of mimickry, 
 
• DKTEACTION DISPLAYED. 143 
 
 ^nd, probably, laughter at the expense of the 
 mimicked. 
 
 These exhibitions may sometimes be simple 
 portraits and not caricatures, but how soon the 
 portrait may become a caricature ! a sudden 
 leeling of mischievous pleasantry may come 
 over the mimick, he may exaggerate defects 
 into ludicrous deformity, till bursts of laughter 
 reward his exertions, and the profanation is 
 complete. 
 
 This may rarely happen ; but the circum- 
 stances should never exist that make it possi* 
 ble it ever should happen, The principle, the 
 practice, the example, are alike wrong, and 
 though those who are of a light and frivolous 
 turn of mind, may not be more averse to 
 mimick preachers than public men of any other 
 description, the believer should consider deep- 
 ly before he yields to the temptation, because 
 by such mimickry he not only does all he can 
 to lower the Lord's devoted servants, and give 
 those who hear them ludicrous associations 
 with their ministry, but he also profanes the 
 words which he professes to believe holy, and 
 exposes himself to the disgraceful suspicion of 
 being an infidel in his heart, and that his reli- 
 gious profession is mere worldly conformity. 
 
 Caricaturists are next on my list of prac- 
 tical detractors ; but it is only one branch of 
 caricature that deserves to be called detrac- 
 tion : namely, that of personal caricatures of 
 public or private persons ; and this species of 
 caricaturists is not higher in the scale of so- 
 ciety than the mere mimick, and is perhaps 
 
141 DGTHAdTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 the inflicter of fur grcater suffering, if his ei- 
 torts bo ever seen by the subject of them ; as 
 ihere is no doubt that on the subject of per- 
 sonal appearance, all persons arc more alive to 
 animadversion and ridicule than on any other. 
 But the caricaturist who employs his talents 
 not on the species, but tho genus ; not on per- 
 sons, but things ; not on fools, but follies ; not 
 on the individuals who dress m the extremes 
 of fashion, but on the fashion itself; and thus 
 endeavour ** to shoot folly as it flies," these 
 men of observing minds and powerful pencils 
 have a right to be ranked with the moral sa- 
 tirists in prose and poetry of this and other 
 ages, though they may be a grade below them. 
 Some of the caricatures of tho late Henry Bun- 
 bury, and those of Cruikshank of the present 
 day, entitle the artists not only to praise for 
 their genius, but for its application also. There 
 is one caricature which tells so much in such 
 a small space, and is so completely the mul- 
 turn in parvo^ that I cannot forbear to men- 
 tion it. I know not who the artist was, but 
 tho engraving is a man in rags, his hands in 
 his empty pockets, his face long and haggard, 
 his mouth making a ghastly attempt at a laugh, 
 and underneath is written " 1 have gained my 
 suit !" 
 
 1 shall only further observe that those who 
 caricature private individuals, and make their 
 defects of face and person the subject of their 
 satirical pencil, are even more unamiablo and 
 defective in benevolent feelings and principle, 
 than tlie mimick. and Ih^ir eUcctis wq far 
 
DEYAACTION DISPLAYED. 145 
 
 more lastingly injurious, since a drawing re- 
 mains, and can bo shown to hundreds, but a 
 piece of mimickry can only be heard where 
 the mimick happens to bo present. There is 
 another reason why the inimick is less repre- 
 hensible than the caricaturist, though his spirit 
 is the same ; namely, that contortions of face 
 and form, and particularly in speech, may bo 
 remembered and even entirely gotten rid of, 
 if judiciously pointed out ; and many persons, 
 especially those whoso deformities proceed 
 cither from affectation or awkwardness, might 
 derive essential benefit from hearing and see- 
 ing themselves mimicked. But, the power 
 of the caricaturist lies in exhibiting with in- 
 creased ugliness personal and natural defects, 
 which no human power can remove, and which, 
 therefore, no benevolent being can take plea- 
 sure in holding up to ridicule. Therefore, 
 though the caricaturisi of individuals is second 
 on my list of detractors, he is not behind any 
 of them in his powers to wound ; but I must 
 venture, however hopelessly, to suggest that 
 it is a pity such talents as the caricaturist must 
 possess, (or he could not draw caricatures,) 
 should not be employed in holding up follies 
 "to the ridicule they deserve, and in general 
 and not particular exhibitions. 
 
 I have included, but I hope not unjustly, 
 
 EPIGRAMMATISTS on my list of detractors, and 
 irith them it finishes. 
 Epigram- writers, like caricaturists of per- 
 ons, inflict more pain than the mimick, be- 
 cause th^ir P^rf^riUSiPces aro lasting and (rans^ 
 13 
 
146 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 ferable from one to another. Those who can 
 speak severe things possess a dangerous gift, 
 but those who can write them, one more dan- 
 gerous still; and there is something so alluring 
 in the talent of writing epigrams, both to those 
 who write and those who read them, that no- 
 thing but the most powerful of restraining mo- 
 tives can stop the pen of the former from writ- 
 ing, and the tongue of the latter from applauding. 
 Bon mots and epigrams are often well turn- 
 ed compliments only ;* still, bitter sarcasm is 
 the soul of genuine repartee and genuine epi- 
 gram,! ^"^ ^^^® latter is often the very essence 
 of detraction if not of defamation. 
 
 * The following elegant lines, not generally known, illus- 
 trate this sort of epigram. 
 
 Epigram by a barrister of the name of Madan, handed up 
 to a young lady who was attending the Huntingdon As- 
 sizes. 
 
 While petty offences and felonies snnart, 
 
 Is there no jurisdiction for stealing a heart? 
 
 You, fair one, will smile, and say, latos ! I defy you! 
 
 Convinc'd that no peers can be summon'd to try you; 
 
 But think not that specious pretence will secure ye, 
 
 The muses and graces just m.tkt up a jury. 
 
 f 1 subjoin an epigram of the other class, as no one' 
 feelings can be injured by the insertion, since the objects 
 of its satire have long been dead, and its amiable author 
 also. 
 
 At an Annual IMeeting held during many years, at the 
 late Sir John and Lady Miller's Villa, at Bath Easton, 
 the latter instituted prizes for the best poetical contributions, 
 which were put anonymously into a vase, bearing the follow- 
 ing inscription from Virgil : — 
 
 " JSToctes aique dies pate* atrajanua Ditis.^^ 
 '• The gates of hell are open night and day." 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 147 
 
 As the mind of the epigram- writer and the 
 caricaturist are of the same sort, these talents 
 are often possessed by the same individuals ; 
 and sometimes fatal is the possession to suc- 
 cess in greater things. The praise, accompa- 
 nied, and perhaps excited, by fear of being 
 the next victim, which rewards the efforts of 
 the epigram-writers and caricaturists, elevates 
 them into a dangerous height in their own es- 
 timation, and by giving them a sense of ability 
 and power sufficient to gratify their vanity at 
 the moment, tends to circumscribe their am- 
 bition. Why should they toil to obtain fur- 
 ther distinction, when, in the circles in which 
 they move, they are looked up to as wits and 
 artists? They can but be admired ; and the salu- 
 tary wish to obtain excellence of a higher sort 
 is consequently annihilated, and they go on 
 through life satisfied with their apparent suc- 
 cess, openly applauded, but probably secretly 
 feared, and therefore disliked. And mark 
 them as they increase in years ! their detract- 
 ing spirit growing greater as their power to 
 prove it becomes less, till at last, like the an- 
 gry cur, they can only growl, where they 
 could formerly bite ; and the minds which, if 
 not early tempted by the easiness and imme- 
 
 iMiller ! the urn in ancient tinnes, 'tis said, 
 Held the collected ashes of the dead ; 
 So thine, the wonder of these nnodern days, 
 Stands open day and night fcr lifeless lays. 
 Leave not unfinished then, the well-formed plan, 
 Complete the work tliy classic taste began ; 
 And, oh ! in future, ere thou dost inurn *em, 
 Heinember first lo raise a nile and burn 'ern. 
 
 Ik 
 
148 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 diateness of success attendant on the efforts of 
 the moment, might have proved a benefit and 
 a blessing to others, fade away, and go out in 
 uncomfortableness and gloom, mourning over 
 the consciousness that they can neither amuse 
 nor hurt any longer ; and the satirical observa- 
 tion, the ready malice, the active envy, and 
 the jealous spite, which, working together in 
 their minds in youth, produced the phosphoric 
 briUiancy of the epigram and caricature — con- 
 vert, alas ! into a dark, offensive, increasing 
 mass of malignant feelings, of the same nature 
 as those in former days, but the shining va- 
 pours which they once produced are vanished 
 for ever. 
 
 It is possible to envy wits of this description 
 when they are young ; but if we see and hear 
 them in their decay, the only feeling which 
 they can excite is salutary and warning com- 
 passion. 
 
 " Point d'ennemis ma fille," " Have no 
 enemies, daughter," said the Marchioness de 
 S^vign^ to the Countess de Grignan, in one of 
 her letters. Excellent advice ! but if it was 
 ever given to an epigrammatist, it was proba- 
 bly given in vain ; and few persons have made 
 more enemies than the known writer of epi- 
 grams. 
 
 Yet, there have been minds powerful and 
 christian enough to forgive injuries of this kind, 
 and I have pleasure in relating the following 
 anecdote. It is in the field of epigram that 
 academical students of poetical talents usually 
 try their first strength ; and some of the best 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 149 
 
 epigrams which I ever read were written by 
 Cambridge scholars, who have since distin- 
 guished themselves in the higher branches of 
 literature.* A member of one of the colleges, 
 who was well known for his wit, and who, 
 though no longer a student, was a resident at 
 Cambridge, wrote an epigram on the late Bi- 
 shop Watson, then residing there also, which 
 was handed about and greatly admired. 
 
 Soon after, the epigram-writer, bemg desir- 
 ous of obtaining a particular office in the Uni- 
 versity, called to solicit the vote of the bishop. 
 "What, Sir!" exclaimed the prelate, "do you 
 come to ask me to vote for you ? Answer me, 
 Sir, did you not write a certain epigram V The 
 poor wit blushed, stammered, and with difficulty 
 confessed that he did, " Yery well. Sir ; very 
 well," returned the bishop ; " but it does not 
 matter whether you did or not, I think you fit 
 for the place ; you shall, therefore, have my 
 
 It is gratifying to write, and it is pleasant, 
 no doubt, to read a good epin^ram ; but most 
 persons, I trust, had rather have acted like 
 Bishop Watson, on this occasion, than have 
 written like his satirist. 
 
 I shall now say in recapitulation, that f.ye- 
 iNFLicTKRS are practical detractors, and that I 
 have made this noun out of a verb, *' to inffict 
 the eye upon a person," used by Dr. Parr. 
 
 That EYE-iwFLicTERs scck thc kindred 
 glances of some near relative or intimate friend 
 
 Particularly Archdeacon Wr—. 
 13* 
 
ioO DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 and then convey the look of satirical meaning 
 backwards and forwards from one eye to the 
 other, like a battledore and shuttlecock. 
 
 That there is another species of detraction 
 connected with eye-infliction, — that of shrugs, 
 winks, and sighs. 
 
 That any person by this process can stamp 
 a narrator of a story with the brand of false- 
 hood, and what is this but detraction ? 
 
 That MiMicKsare guilty of both kinds of de- 
 traction — detraction acted as well as spoken. 
 
 That raimickry is sometimes, I own, no 
 more than an imitation, and would not offend 
 even its object ; but that this is mimickry on 
 its good behaviour. 
 
 That the caricaturist not of fools but of 
 folly ranks only a grade below the satirists in 
 prose and in verse, and that such a caricaturist 
 was the late Sir Henry Bunbury, and is George 
 Cruikshank. 
 
 Lastly, that epigrammatists are even more 
 pleasing detractors than caricaturists, and like 
 them more wounding than mimicks or mimick- 
 ry ; as epigrams, as well as caricatures, endure 
 and may be handled about. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ON THE VOCABULARY OF DETRACTION. 
 
 Having defined its various kinds, I shall 
 now give what T call the Vocabulary of De- 
 traction. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED, l51 
 
 I have found by experience how useful it is 
 to watch the effect of the words we use on 
 ourselves, and observe how much our feelings 
 are under the power even of our own tones 
 and language. I have been surprised to find 
 how much the utterance of a severe word has 
 increased my feeling of resentment towards 
 offending individuals, and how entirely my 
 anger has been subdued when I have uninten- 
 tionally, perhaps, mentioned them soon after, 
 in words and tones of compassion. 
 
 l{ this be true, those who wish to live in 
 amity with their neighbours and fellow-citi- 
 zens, should be careful to avoid injurious lan- 
 guage respecting them even in joke ; for it is 
 impossible to feel proper respect and esteem 
 for our associates, of whom we accustom our- 
 selves to speak with nicknames, or with any 
 depreciating epithet ; such epithets as are 
 found in the following list. 
 
 The fellow, the old fellow, mother Such a 
 one, and old mother Such a one, the old girl, 
 the old maid, and that Mr. Such a one, or that 
 man, or Miss Such a one, or that Tom so and 
 so, or Mary so and so, and that thingimy such 
 a one, thingumbob, or that what's the man's 
 name, or that what's the woman's name 1 or 
 the quiz, and other lowering expressions, 
 which, whenever or by whomsoever uttered, 
 are uttered, I venture to assert, in the true 
 spirit of detraction. It may be objected, that 
 some of these expressions, especially the terms 
 " mother such a one," and " old mother such 
 a one," are too vulgar to be used bv anv one 
 
152 DETRACTION DlSPLAYELV 
 
 JQ a decent situation in life ; but I have heard 
 them from the lips of those who would indig- 
 nantly repel the charge of vulgarity ; but let 
 their rank in society be ever so high, all per- 
 sons who are under the influence of bad tem- 
 per, and the wish to indulge in petty detraction, 
 are, for the time being at least, reduced to the 
 level of the vulgar, and liable to indulge in vul- 
 gar phraseology. 
 
 There is nothing absolutely vulgar in the 
 use of the relative " that " before a name : but 
 I know no word so applied more detracting 
 and contemptuous. There is nothing defined 
 in the idea which it gives ; it is only censure 
 by implication ; still, I can conceive no surer 
 way of lowering the person spoken of, and at 
 a very cheap rate, as it costs the person speak- 
 ing no expenditure of wit, judgment, power of 
 reasoning, or discrimination. It may also be 
 considered as a throwing down of the satirical 
 gauntlet, and as the provoker to detraction in 
 others and a that before a name is almost as 
 degrading as an alias after it, except that the 
 first is a sort of indistinct degradation, and the 
 other conveys a charge of specific delinquen- 
 cy. " The fellow" also bespeaks a decided 
 sense of superiority in the person speaking 
 to the person spoken of: and though a wick- 
 ed fellow, and a good-for-nothing fellow are 
 terms of a more seriously calumniating in- 
 ference, yet they are not so contemptuous as 
 the simple expression of "the /e//ote:," if 
 spoken otherwise than in pleasantry ; and if 
 one changes the " the" for the *' that," a very 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 153 
 
 easy and common change, language has scarce- 
 ly a combination of words more capable of 
 giving a severe wound to a fellow-creature's 
 respectability. " Ah ! he is a sad chap ! and he 
 is quite a quiz !" are two phrases much used in 
 the grammar of detraction, and are common 
 all over England, in the vulgar tongue, though 
 neither " chap" nor ** quiz" are words in the 
 dictionary. I know not the origin of either word 
 from any good authority ; but, as calling a maa 
 a chap implies usually that he is but a sorry fel- 
 low, I am inclined to believe it is derived from 
 the French word eclioppi, escaped, meaning a 
 man who has narrowly escaped hanging ; and I 
 think un echappe du diable is a French phrase, 
 equivalent to our scape grace, A quiz, or a 
 person of ludicrous and particular appearance 
 and manners, is a word of recent invention, 
 and I should suppose that it is a jumble of 
 queer and exquis, or exquisite ; however, be 
 that as it may, neither chap nor quiz, any more 
 than quizzer or quizzing, should have been 
 mentioned here, had they not been, beyond a 
 doubt, words of frequent use in the mouths 
 of detractors, and common weapons in the 
 mean, useless, mischievous, unintellectual, 
 heartless, and never-ending warfare of detrac- 
 tion. 
 
 I must now add in recapitulation, that I 
 have given the Vocabulary of Detraction, or 
 words used by detractors ; and that I have found 
 it useful to watch the effect of my own words 
 and tones on myself, in speaking of others. 
 
154 JjETHACTION IJISPLAYED. 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 ON SOME OF THE MOST PROMINENT SUBJECTS 
 OF DETRACTION, AUTHOKESSES, BLUE-SToCK- 
 INGS, MEDICAL MEN, CONVERTS TO SERIOUS 
 RELIGION. 
 
 Having now described the different classes 
 of detractors and their vocahulary, I shall point 
 out some of the most prominent objects of 
 DETRACTION ; and though all persons who ven- 
 ture from the safe circles of private life into 
 public competition, are liable to provoke envy 
 and severity of observation, still, I believe 
 that AUTHORESSES and blue-stockings are 
 amongst the most favourite subjects of detrac- 
 tion in the private circles in which they move. 
 I shal I endeavour to pass as lightly as possible 
 over the former subject, as I feel I am tread- 
 ing on difficult and dangerous ground ; yet I 
 must hazard a few observations. 
 
 An authoress I am, and must remain so ; but, 
 unlike the fox in the fable, who having lost 
 his tail endeavoured to persuade his brother 
 foxes to cut off theirs, on the false plea that he 
 Bad found this loss a great convenience, I must 
 frankly declare that had I known the pains 
 and dangers which awaited me when I became 
 a public authoress, nothing but a strong sense 
 of duty, or the positive want of bread, could 
 have induced me to encounter them. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 155 
 
 «« Never," said a highly-gifted though rais-» 
 guided French woman of mournful celebrity, 
 '* never had I the slightest intention of becom- 
 ing an author. I perceived very early in life, 
 that a woman who gained this title lost a great 
 deal more than she acquired ; men do not love 
 her, and women criticise : if her works be bad, 
 she is ridiculed, and not without reason ; if 
 good, her right to them is disputed." I be- 
 lieve what she has here stated, to be a general 
 rule, to which there are few exceptions. And 
 what follows from the same enlightened mind, 
 I would commend to the attention of those 
 women of talents, who as yet, though sfrong- 
 ly tempted, may not have ventured into the 
 arena of public authorship. " Happy in hav- 
 ing it in their power to improve their under- 
 standing, women are not bound to communi- 
 cate what they acquire ; what could they say 
 that others do not know better than they ? 
 Their sex and their duties keep them equally 
 under a veil, where they more certainly find 
 happiness than in the midst of the illusions 
 which lead them to show themselves." Illa- 
 sions indeed ! if the object of the female writer 
 be to increase her social happiness ; for in no 
 possible way can an increase of that be the re- 
 sult of her authorship. 
 
 If her object be to maintain the beloved re- 
 lations dependent on her by the exertion of her 
 pen, even then, though a sense of duty well fill- 
 ed, may shed peace upon her pillow, she must 
 work early and late, against her inclination as 
 much as with it, and after all, gain only a hard- 
 
 fc mu< 
 
 ■ 
 
laS DfiTRACTXON DISI' LAVED. 
 
 earned and usually a scanty maintenance ; and 
 if fame be consciously or unconsciously the end 
 in view, she may find, as I have before observ- 
 ed, that she has purchased it at the expense of 
 peace. She has avowed a wish, and perhaps 
 displayed an abihty, to obtain distinction, which 
 have lifted her above the bounded sphere in 
 which she moved ; and neither the success nor 
 the attempt are ever entirely forgotten or for- 
 given : and what degree of fame can make ei- 
 ther man or woman amends for any curtail- 
 ment of the safe and tender affection that exists 
 for them in the bosom of their family and the 
 scenes of their youth ? And have not many of 
 both sexes, who have been called into public 
 competition, been made to feel that their 
 wreaths are combined of thorns as well as lau- 
 rels, and that when they sought public distinc- 
 tion, they endangered their private peace ? 
 
 How admirably has that charming writer, 
 Felicia Hemans, expressed the comparative 
 emptiness of womanh fame especially, and its 
 want of power to confer happiness, in the 
 concluding lines of her Corinna at the ca- 
 
 PITOL. 
 
 " CrownM of Rome, O ' art thou not 
 Happy ia that glorious lot ? 
 Happier, happier far, than thou, 
 With the laurel on thy brow, 
 She that makes the humble hearth 
 Happy, but to one on earths 
 
 And again in her admirable Records of Wo- 
 man, at the concluisiQn of her Jq^w of Arc in 
 Rheiras :-— 
 
"DETRACTION DISPLAYED. l^T 
 
 ^" Bouglit alone, by gifts beyond ail price,. 
 
 ' The trusting heart's repose, the Paracliife, 
 
 •Of home, with all its loves, doth fate allow 
 
 ""I'he crown of glory unto vvoman^s brow," 
 
 But if the female winter who tries to amuse, 
 ^nd hopes to insinuate some serious moral 
 truths through the medium of entertainment, 
 be permitted to pass unavoided and unhated to 
 lier grave, it is far otherwise with those who 
 endeavour to teack others ; those who venture 
 •to drag besetting sins into the light of day, to 
 call things by the right name, to denominate 
 permitted wordly policy, the spirit arid prac- 
 tice of lyings and to point out in all their de- 
 formity the obliquities of temper. 
 
 The author, but more especially the author- 
 ess, who presumes to do tliis, must prepare 
 to be disliked, cavilled at, and depreciated ; 
 must be satistied to be judged, without being 
 even read through ; must submit to be mis- 
 quoted and misrepresented ; and be deeply 
 thankful, if she can find consolation under the 
 trial inflicted, in the consciousness of having 
 written from what she deemed the requirings 
 of painful duty to her fellow-creatures, and that 
 the labours which have given her such mingled 
 feelings of satisfaction and suffering, have be- 
 stowed unmixed pleasure on one whom she 
 tenderly loved, and have also beguiled her 
 chequered path of life, of many a weary and 
 many a dangerous hour. 
 
 I know it may be said, that if the giver of 
 all good has bestowed even on woman the 
 power of writing, she is justitied in exerting 
 14 
 
15.8 IJETF^A^CTION DISPLAYEB. 
 
 it : and if she modestly writes and publishes^ 
 anonymously, she may instruct and amuse 
 without compromising her dehcacyj or incur- 
 ring the disadvantages of authorship ; but I fear 
 that is not the case. Even to the dearest and 
 nearest few who may be in her secret, a pub- 
 lished, though anonymous authoress, appears 
 often in an unpleassing as weH as a new light. 
 It is as if she had assumed a novel and unbe- 
 coming costume. "And so you are turned 
 authoress,''^ will very hkely be said to her 
 with a sarcastic emphasis, while the poor con- 
 scious culprit feels as if she had really commit- 
 ted a crime. 
 
 The abstract idea of an authoress in ancient 
 days was a dirty, ill-dressed, ragged, snuffy- 
 nosed woman, who could not perform any of 
 the common and necessary duties of her sex ; 
 could not or would not talk of common things ; 
 and who carried upon her garments, her man- 
 ner, and probably her fingers, the badge of au- 
 thorship ! And with the exception of the snuf- 
 fy nose, the peculiar dress and manner, and 
 the inky fingers, such still continues to be, 
 amongst most men, and many women, the ab- 
 stract idea of a female writer. And let it con- 
 tinue so ! they have a pleasure in indulging it, 
 and those ] 
 
 *' Who are convinc'd against their will. 
 Are of the same opinion still." 
 
 But even amongst the candid and the hberai 
 of both sexes, and even in a metropolis, 
 which may be called the earthly paradise of 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYEO. 15.9 
 
 authors and authoresses, since in its best cir- 
 cles, it is a name by which it is a honour, and 
 not a disgrace, to be known, and is the surest 
 passport also into some of its highest and most 
 intellectual asscmbhes, even there, I believe, 
 that the very highest praise which could be 
 given to a female writer would be, " she is re- 
 ally an agreeable woman, and I never should 
 have guessed she was an authoress." 
 
 But I have lingered too long on this nearly 
 to me forbidden ground. And I shall only 
 add that, in my humble opinion, the result of 
 long and often bitter experience, not only the 
 authoress but the author, whose chief and dear- 
 est aim in writing is to call the attention of 
 those in whom they are interested, to the con- 
 templation of the most important topics, would 
 do well not to reside in the busy haunts of men^ 
 The assumption of the power to teach can only 
 be forgiven and admitted, while the pretender 
 is personally unknown or living in retirement* 
 The oracles delivered at Delphos would nothave 
 been acted upon as such at Rome, had not they 
 been delivered from a neighbouring tripod, 
 and from a nativo priest ; and this the Romans, 
 who knew the human heart, were fully aware 
 of: "familiarity breeds contempt," is a pro- 
 verb founded on the experience of ages. Ge- 
 nerally speaking, the inhabitants of mountain- 
 ous countries see nothing to admire in those 
 scenes which persons at a distance go many a 
 mile to gaze upon ; and I believe that, without 
 being actuated by the envy and dislike occa- 
 sioned by the sense of assumed superiority, 
 
tSO^ DETRACTrON DlSPLAYEDi 
 
 the near relations and familiar friends of au- 
 thors may conscientiously see nothing to ad- 
 mire in them or their works, may wonder to 
 find that they are courted by others, and that 
 their writings are received with approbation by 
 the public. But there is one consolation and one- 
 stimulus to continued though apparently vain 
 exertion 5. namely, the hope that when the hand 
 that held the warning pen is cold, and the anxious 
 heart can beat no more, the pages of instruc- 
 tion which are now despised, where the writers^ 
 were most desirous that they should be kindly 
 appreciated, will then be perused with more 
 indulgent attention ; that the infirmities, and 
 perhaps disagreeableness of the writers, will! 
 be pardoned and forgotten, when they can of- 
 fend no more ; and that if their pages contain 
 religious or moral truth, by which the reader 
 could be taught and amended, their pride of 
 heart, which led them to resist it before, wil! 
 then be softened into admission of it ; the good 
 which the departed writers in their life-time- 
 vainly wished to do, will at leiigth be done ;, 
 and then, however they might be despised in 
 their Hves, after death they may be deemed 
 worthy of grateful respect, and their memo- 
 ries be loved and honoured. 
 
 I am now going to plead the cause of thafe 
 calumniated body of women, yclept blue- 
 
 STOCKINGS. 
 
 The published authoress is a notorious of^ 
 ffender, and must take the consequences of het- 
 daring ; but the mere blue-stocking seems to 
 nse a respectable, rational, and innocent peiv- 
 
DETRACTION DISPXAYED- 161 
 
 sen, who often suffers for erroneously-imput- 
 ed guilt, being mistaken for what she is not ; 
 namely, an authoress. The two things are, 
 originally, wholly distinct ; but, though the 
 authoress is not a blue-stocking, it is possible 
 that the blue-stocking may become an author- 
 ess ; just as a solicitor, though not originally 
 a barrister, may, if he chooses, Taecomc one in 
 the end. 
 
 I shall now give as true a history of blue- 
 stockingism as my scanty means will furnish. 
 
 About the year 1784 and 86, some ladies 
 and gentlemen of rank, fashion, and literary 
 taste, agreed to assemble at each other's houses, 
 for the purposes of rational conversation ; and 
 at these parties, persons of every descrip- 
 tion of genius were kindly welcomed. I have 
 been frequently told, from what appeared to 
 me good authority, that the society owed its 
 peculiar name to the homely dress of one of 
 the visiters ; namely, that highly-gifted, but 
 eccentric being, James Barry, Professor of 
 Painting to the Royal Academy, who was at 
 that time employed on his admirable pictures 
 in the great room of the Adelphi, and used to 
 go to this assembly of the high-born and the 
 intellectual, in the same dress in which he 
 painted ; in short, he appeared there in his 
 worsted blue stockings.* 
 
 It so happened, that when a foreigner of 
 rank, who was only just arrived in London, 
 
 * It is also said, that J9n Stillin^e^t^ not Barry ! wa« 
 fthe cause of this appellation. 
 
 14* 
 
162^ DETRACTION DKPLAf ED» 
 
 refused to accompany a friend to one of tlretr 
 parties, on the plea of being in his travelling 
 deshabille, the gentleman replied, '' Oh I we 
 never mind dress on these occasions ; you may 
 come in bas-bleus, or blue-stockings,^^ allud* 
 ing to the usual undress of Barry : the foreign- 
 er, fancying that bus-bleus were part of the ne- 
 cessary costume, called the meeting ever aftery 
 the baS'bleu society. 
 
 The ladies and gentlemen, of whom it was 
 composed^ were not all authors and authoress- 
 es, but they were fond of literature and lite- 
 rary company, and had the good sense to en- 
 deavour to collect together the distinguished 
 in all arts and sciences, without regard to their 
 condition in life. 
 
 On these occasions, that awful ugly thing, a 
 Jarge circle in an English drawing-room, ex- 
 hibiting, as it usually does, the men sitting to- 
 gether on one side of the room, and the wo- 
 men on the other, was wisely broken into 
 groups of various sizes ; nor, in London meet- 
 ings for the purpose of conversation, has it 
 ever been resumed. It is only in provincial 
 circles that this remnant of barbarism is still 
 suffered to exist ; awing the timid into inter- 
 course with their next neighbour only, en- 
 couraging the supercilious man to talk chiefly 
 to the male friend next him, and enabling 
 the indolent to indulge in the same practice^ 
 though from a different motive. A lady of the 
 name of Vesey was the original promoter of 
 this successful attempt to put down the uni- 
 versal practice of card-playing, by the intro^ 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 163 
 
 duction of conversation parties ; and she was 
 assisted in her efforts by the widow of Admiral 
 Boscawen, and by the celebrated Elizabeth 
 Montagu, the writer of an essay on Shakspeare, 
 and of a collection of letters, distinguished for 
 their wit and elegance. This benevolent lady 
 was equally well-known as the giver of a din- 
 ner, every May-day, in the garden belonging 
 to her house in Portman-square, to all the 
 chimney-sweepers in London. These ladies 
 met alternately at each other's houses ; and 
 amongst their visiters were Lord Lyttleton, 
 Horace Walpole, and other celebrated men of 
 the day ; and amongst the female writers, who 
 were then already known to fame, were Eliza- 
 beth Carter, the translator of Epictetus, and 
 the admirable Hannah More, from wljose 
 poem, called the Bas-bleu, published in the 
 year 1786, I shall give some extracts, which 
 will be more to the purpose than any thing I 
 can say. 
 
 My readers will see that the advertisement 
 to it, though it enters into no detail, rather 
 confirms than contradicts my account of the 
 origin of the name bas-bleu. 
 
 This production is only a jeu d^esprit, a 
 pleasantry of the moment ; but its writer, even 
 then, had breathed some strains of Zion ; and 
 in her poem on Sensibility had given rules for 
 the government of the temper and the tongue, 
 which, if acted upon, would prove not only a 
 benefit but a blessing to social intercourse. 
 
164 DETRACTION DISPLAYED 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 " The following trifle owes its birth and 
 fiame*to^the mistake of a foreigner of distinc- 
 tion, who gave the literal appellation of the 
 Bas-bleu to a small party of friends, who had 
 been sometimes called, by way of pleasantry, 
 the Blue-stockings." 
 
 THE BAS-BLEU. 
 
 '* Vesey ! of verse (he judge and friend, 
 
 Awhile my idle strain attend : 
 
 Not with the days of early Greece, 
 
 I mean to ope my slender piece ; 
 
 The rare Symposium to proclaim, 
 
 Which crown'd th' Athenians' social name ', 
 
 Or how Aspasia*s parties sl^one, 
 
 The first bas-bleu at Athens known. 
 
 Nor need I stop my tale to show, > 
 
 At least to readers such as you, 
 
 How all that Rome esteem'd polite, 
 
 Supp'd with Lucullus every night." 
 
 *' Long was society o'er- run 
 By Whist, that desolating Hun; 
 Long did Quadrille despotic sit, 
 That Vandal of colloquial wit ; 
 And ronversatioi.'rf setting li^ht 
 Lay halfobscur'd in Gothic night: 
 Till Leo's triple crown to you, 
 Boscawen sage, bright Montagu, 
 divided, fell ; — your cares in haste 
 Rescued the ravaged realms of taste ; 
 And Littleton's accomplished name, 
 And witty Pulteney shar'd the fame; 
 The men, not bound by pedant rules. 
 Nor ladies pr^cieuses ridicules ; 
 For polish'd Walpole show'd the way. 
 How wits may be both learn'd and gay ; 
 And Carter taught the female train, 
 The deeply wise are never vain," 
 
DETEACTION DISPLAYED. 165 
 
 '' We pass the pleasures vast and various, 
 Of routes, not social, but gregarious ; 
 And, pleased, to gentler scenes retreat, 
 Where conversation holds her seat. 
 Small were that art which would injure 
 The circle's boasted quadrature^ 
 JSee Vesey's plastic genius make 
 A circle every figure take ; 
 Nay, shapes and forms, which vrould defy' 
 All science of geometry ; 
 Isosceles, and parallel, 
 Names, hard to speak, and hard to spell .' 
 Th' enchantress wavM her wand, and spoke I 
 Her potent wand the circle broke ; 
 The social spirits hover round, 
 And bless the liberated ground. 
 Ask you what charms this gift dispense ? 
 'Tis the strong spell of common sense. 
 Away fell ceremony flew, 
 And with her bore j)etraction too." 
 
 ** Here sober dutchesses are seen, 
 Chaste wits, and critics void of spleen ; 
 Physicians, fraught with real science, 
 And wbigs and tories in alliance ; 
 Poets, fulfilling christian duties, 
 Just lawyers, reasonable beauties; 
 Bishops who preach, and peers who pay. 
 And countesses who seldom play ; 
 Learn'd antiquaries, who, from college, 
 Reject the rust, and bring the knowledge; 
 And, hear it, age, believe it, youth, — 
 Polemics, only seeking truth ; 
 And travellers of that rare tribe, 
 WhoVe seen the countries they describe; 
 Ladies who point, nor think me partial, 
 An epigram as well as Martial ; 
 Yet, in all female worth succeed, 
 As well as those who cannot read." 
 
 " Hail, conversation, soothing power. 
 Sweet goddess of the social hour ! 
 Not with more heart-felt warmth, at least. 
 Does Lelius bend, thy true High-priest ; 
 Than I, the lowest of thy train, 
 These field-flowers bring to deck thy fane ; 
 Rise, incense pure from fragrant tea, 
 Delicious incense, worthy thee I 
 
W^ DETRACTION DISPLAYED 
 
 Hail, conversation, heavenly fair, 
 ' Thou bliss of life, and baira of care ' 
 Call forth the long forgotten knowledge, 
 Of school, of travei, and of college I 
 For thee, best solace of his toil ! 
 The sage consumes his midnight oil ; 
 And keeps late vigils, to produce 
 Materials for thy future use. 
 If none behold, ah! wherefore fair? 
 Ah ! wherefore wise, if none must hear? 
 Our intellectual ore must shine, 
 Not slumber, idly, in the mine. 
 Let education's moral mint 
 The noblest images imprint ; 
 Let taste her curious touchstone hold, 
 To try if standard be the gold ; 
 But 'tis thy commerce, conversation, 
 Must give it use by circulation ; 
 That noblest commerce of mankind. 
 Whose precious merchandize is mind I"*^ 
 
 By the foregoing facts it appears indispiita- 
 ble. that formerly, men as well as women were 
 known by the name of blue stockings, that the 
 appellation was given to all who frequented 
 the blue-stocking party, and that this party 
 was formed of certain individuals who met for 
 the purpose of rational conversation. There- 
 
 * T believe that the writer of the above is now the only 
 surviver of the ori;i:inal blue-stockings ; but the dowager 
 Countess of C— and O'— », who is still livifig, was one of 
 the occasional visiters. This lady still retains the lo e of 
 conversation-parties which she then imbibed, and has al- 
 ways had power to assemble at her house the first-raies of 
 the present day, for the same purpose as led those of past 
 days to the houses of the ladies mentioned above. 
 
 Dr. Johnson was dead before this regular blue-stock- 
 ing party was formed ; but Lady C — used to see him at 
 the house of her mother, the Viscountess Galway, and 
 at Lady Lucan's; and one day, when the latter was flat- 
 tering him, he said, "Madam, yon are not only sweet, bnt 
 lusciotis.''^ 
 
DETRACTION DlS?LAYElii 167 
 
 lore it may bo fairly assumed, that men and 
 women who meet in these days for the same 
 purpose are equally entitled to the name of 
 blue-stockings, and they alone; thotigh the epi- 
 thet blue is now exclusively, and therefore erro- 
 neously, confined to some individuals amongst 
 women. We also know that in former days, 
 the term designated some of the most distin- 
 guished and enlightened men and women of 
 the time ; but of what description of persons 
 are the females of the present day who are 
 called the blue-stockings ] Like their prede- 
 cessors they are women who improve their 
 minds, by the acquisition of useful knowledge, 
 as well as, or instead of, showy accomplish- 
 ments, and who are willing, when occasion 
 serves, to join in discussing useful subjects, 
 modestly desirous to bring their minds into 
 collision with those of the wiser sex, that they 
 may profit by their remarks, on what has en- 
 gaged their own attention ; and by this means 
 improve even the hours which are appropriated 
 to social intercourse. Surely, no rational wo- 
 man ought to be averse to resemble the ori- 
 ginal of such a portrait as this. Yet I have 
 heard women who in acquirements are what I 
 have described, (and I may add abundantly 
 learned at the same time in every household 
 and domestic duty,) exclaim, with eagerness 
 and alann, *' Oh ! indeed 1 am not a blue, 1 
 cannot bear 6/iics." 
 
 They must, however, have been conscious 
 of having studied the learned languages, che- 
 mistry, anatomy, and other things, with lauda- 
 
168 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 ble perseverance ! and if this be not blue-stock* 
 ingism, there is no such thing in existence t 
 mischievous disingenuousness ! for it not only 
 seems to throw a stigma on cultivation of the 
 mind in their own sex, but it has moreover a 
 tendency to deprive many individuals of the 
 other, of the necessary stimulus to cultivate 
 theirs ; for if they were fully aware how much, 
 and how well, the women of the present day 
 are educated, some men would feel a salutary 
 fear of being excelled in necessary knowledge, 
 and, finding it impossible to keep down the 
 evident intellectual improvement of women, 
 they would see the necessity of improving 
 themselves, in order to retain their own pro- 
 per superiority. But never yet were disin- 
 genuousness and concealment fraught with 
 aught but mischief; clandestine any thing is 
 bad, even clandestine knowledge. A gratui- 
 tous display of learning and literature is offen- 
 sive even in men, and much more so in wo- 
 men ; but to deny the possession of them is in 
 a moral sense far worse, as it involves the guilt 
 of little lying and trumpery deception. 
 
 But perhaps the objects of my censure might 
 reply, that the term blue, in the present day, 
 means something so disagreeable, so disliked 
 by women, and so sneered at by men, that it 
 is impossible to have moral courage enough to 
 incur the obloquy of being a blue. What the 
 French call a precieuse, and the English a 
 pedant, is in these days, I suspect, called a 
 blue ; therefore, a 6/we, erroneously so named, 
 is a woman that uses long words uttered in a 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAVEDr 169 
 
 conceited manner ; who talks of Greek quanti- 
 ties and Latin derivations, if she happens to 
 be a scholar ; who volunteers her little or great 
 knowledge in company at all times ; who is 
 more eager to talk than to listen ; and is, in 
 short, a woman of display. 
 
 I consider a blue as a very different charac- 
 ter ; and I must add, that 1 think it incumbent 
 on all those women who are really blue-stock- 
 ings, to dare to be themselves, and to show by 
 joining seasonably and modestly in intellectual 
 converse, that all females of cultivated minds 
 are not pedants or preci fuses, and that they 
 love information for its own sake, and not for 
 the sake of display. 
 
 It is undtiniable, that if women cultivate 
 their minds merely to show off in company, 
 such knowledge must injure instead of bene- 
 fiting its possessor, and it confirms the opU 
 nion of the poet, 
 
 ** That a little learning is a dangerous thino; ; 
 
 and as the shallow brook makes the most noise, 
 it proves not only that their learning is not 
 deep, but that their intellect and judgment are 
 shallow also But as we are not to argue 
 against the use of any thing, because it is lia- 
 ble to abuse, it would be very unwise to say 
 that women should not be well informed, be- 
 cause learning may make some women pedan- 
 tic. But I have more respect for women of 
 display, than for women of real acquirements, 
 who, from the terror of being called Blues, 
 deny their right to be deemed so. Truth and 
 16 
 
1 70 DETRACTION DISPLAYE0. 
 
 ingenuousness are the best of all charms — • 
 charms which no blue-stockingism can give, 
 and it ought not to be allowed to take them 
 away. A thing is either right or wrong ; if 
 wrong, it is to be avoided ; if right, we are to 
 do it, regardless of consequences. If it be 
 proper for women to have full rather than 
 empty minds, they should have moral courage 
 enough to bear the ridicule attending it. They 
 should not resemble the footman, who told his 
 master he did not mind lying for his service, 
 but that it hurt his conscience to he found out^ 
 
 Besides, by writhing under the name of 
 Blue, they keep up in its full force the detract- 
 ing spirit, which has a pleasure m thus annoy- 
 ing them. If, on the contrary, they reply, 
 " I fim a blue-stocking, if to love knowledge 
 be'ter than ignorance entitles me to the name,'^ 
 the petty assaulter, be it man or woman, will 
 soon lay down the weapon that is powerless to 
 wound. 
 
 To call the seriously religious, saints, and 
 the well-informed amongst women. Blues, are 
 amongst the most intentionally offensive and 
 malicious assaults of the utterers of detraction ; 
 and to reply with meekness, pleased rather 
 than affronted, when the name is bestowed 
 either on one's self or one's friends, is the only 
 way in which this unworthy spite can be suc- 
 cessfully disarmed, and superiority in mind 
 and advancement towards christian perfection 
 be most powerfully evinced. 
 
 I have endeavoured to show in the foregoing 
 observations, that blue stockings, according to 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 171 
 
 my sense of the term, suffer full as much from 
 the cowardice and disinfjenuousness of each 
 other, as from the prejudices of men, with re- 
 gard to female acquirements. 
 
 But now that knowledge of all kinds, and in 
 all ranks, is becoming daily more general ; now 
 that *' the schoolmaster is in the field," and 
 that " the march of intellect" is increasing in 
 its rapidity, the subjects of my complaints will 
 necessarily be removed. Men will grow more 
 liberal as they become more enlightened ; sure 
 of their own increa^iing knowledge, they will 
 not be afraid of finding rivals in the- other sex; 
 they will even learn to believe, that it is not 
 necessary for women to be ignorant, in order 
 to make them continue good wives and mo- 
 thers, but admit that some knowledge of lan- 
 guages, literature, and science, may enable 
 them to be of great service in the education of 
 their children ; and though I, probably, shall 
 never live to see it, the time may arrive, when 
 women may not only become pleased to be de- 
 nominated blue-stockings, but the exclusive- 
 ness of the term itself will be lost in the uni- 
 versality of female claim- to the possession of 
 mental cultivation ; and then, I humbly trust, 
 that as it is from emptiness of mind in both 
 sexes that gossip and tittle-tattle become the 
 usual resources when they meet together in 
 social intercourse, fulness of mind, by making 
 a power of intellectual conversation common 
 to all, will have, as I before observed, the 
 beneficial result of weakening, if not of entirely 
 removijig, the practice of detraction. 
 
172 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 There is another class in society peculiarly 
 liable to the assaults of the detractor. I meaa 
 that most useful and necessary body, medical 
 Mr N. To detract from the professional know- 
 ledge of a physician and the skill of a surgeon, 
 to declare \n company that they are incompe- 
 tent to fulfil the duties which they have taken 
 upon themselves, is detraction of the most mis- 
 chievous nature, as it may deprive them of the 
 means of gaining a livelihood ; such ruinous 
 assertions, therefore, should never be made, 
 unless persons so spoken of have heenproved 
 fatftlly deficient in medical and surgical ability. 
 
 It is not on this person's suspicion, or that 
 person's assertion, that we are to be guided in 
 judging of medical men, because the individu- 
 als so speaking are, probably, incompetent to 
 form an opinion on the subject. 
 
 Women, as they are more particularly called 
 upon to watch over the bed of sickness, and 
 perform the nurse's part, should be especially 
 on their guard on these occasions, lest they 
 fall into detraction, and be indiscreet in their 
 censure of the medical attendant. But women 
 are too apt to feel, in the surgeon or phy?ii ian, 
 a confidence without bounds, or a 'distrust 
 equally unrestrained ; however, with the first- 
 I am not disposed to quarrel ; with the latter I 
 am, as I am convinced that the former may of- 
 ten do good, and the latter must be the means 
 of positive harm. I am convinced that if the 
 patient and the patient's friends have no con- 
 fidence in his skill, the medical man must be- 
 come timid himself; he knows how much the 
 
I>ETRACTION DISPLAYED. 173 
 
 success of medical treatment depends on the 
 disposition of the patient's mind at the time, 
 and that a remedy which is not confided in is 
 not Hkely to succeed. 
 
 Every one has a right to call in fresh advice, 
 when there is no amendment in the state of the 
 patient ; but the medical character of the un- 
 successful prescriber should not be talked 
 aw'ty, and his want of success unmercifully 
 attributed to want of medical skill. Who can 
 know whether that recovery, which may 
 crown the elfort of the successor, has not been 
 the slow yet sure result of the previous medi- 
 cines, and that the success of the new treat- 
 ment may not have been owing to them ? Yet, 
 with what uncharitable haste are medical at- 
 tendants judged ! and in judging them, a de- 
 gree of self conceit is exhibited, not visible on 
 other occasions. We never hear the truth of a 
 lawyer's opinion canvassed and doubted in ge- 
 neral society. And wherefore ? because both 
 men and women know that they are ignorant 
 of law, and the most conceited do not venture 
 to tell a solicitor how he is to word his legal 
 document, but wisely conclude that he knows 
 what he has expended much money and time 
 in learning. 
 
 But how differently does every one act by 
 medical men ! even women think themselves 
 authorised sometimes to oppose the will of the 
 professional attendant, and seem to believe 
 that medical knowledge, unlike all other, is 
 the spontaneous acquisition of the will, and 
 that the desire to possess it and the possession 
 
174t DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 are the same thing. I never am so disagreea- 
 ble in my own eyes, as when 1 have presumed 
 to prescribe, and never am so conscious of the 
 presumption of ignoiance, as when 1 see men, 
 but more often women, interfering in the sick 
 chamber, regardless of the awful respon.sibihty 
 which they are incurring, and endangering, by 
 their self-confidence, the life of one who is, 
 perhaps, the hope and joy of their heart. And 
 if the belief in their superior judgment can 
 lead the comparatively ignorant of both sex- 
 es to interfere with the prescriptions of the 
 physician or the surgeon, it is no wonder that 
 professional ability should be so frequently the 
 subject of detraction. Sometimes it may be 
 carried so far as to incur a harsher name. If 
 I assert that such a physician, or such a sur- 
 geon, is not ;-kilful in his profession, I should 
 be lessening him generaP) in his medical repu- 
 tation ; but if I were to say that he had killed, 
 or was killing, this or that individual, ai;d that 
 he would probably kill me, or my friend, if we 
 were to employ him, then I should be guilty 
 of defamation, and might be prosecuted for it; 
 but as it is an under ?itood agreement in socie- 
 ty, that conversation should not be repeated 
 to the prejudice of the speakers, such prosecu- 
 tions are rarely heard of; and m one point 
 of view, it is well that t!ii-s tacit compact is so 
 strictly kept, else actions for defamation would 
 be painfully frequent. 
 
 But, in another respect, it is not well. Fear 
 of some kind is salutary, in keeping most indi- 
 viduals in order ; and when the best of all fears, 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 175 
 
 that of judgment to come, is not sufficient to 
 keep even believers in proper bounds, fear of 
 the *aw might check the utterance of defaming 
 words, when better motives would not ; and 
 one or two successful prosecutions for taking 
 away professional reputation, would prove a 
 iiestraint upon this unwarrantable evil-speak- 
 ing. 
 
 I have always beheld the medical profession 
 with great respect, not only for the sake of one 
 who is no more, and those near and dear to me, 
 who yet survive to adorn it, nor for the sake 
 of many of its professors to whom 1 am per- 
 sonally attached, and by whom I have been 
 greatly obliged ; but for the sake of the profes- 
 sion itself: and as 1 think its members are not 
 treated wjth due distinction in society, I am 
 always pLsa^ed when they are elevated by the 
 favour of the sovereign into a certain degree 
 of rank, and thus rai.-ed into more than equali- 
 ty witii nany, who, wiule they profit by their 
 skill, and pav it as they o«?ght, still treat the 
 medical uileudaut witii a sort of supercilious 
 graciousness, as if far below themselves in the 
 grades of society. 
 
 Yet, if the medical man has received a com- 
 plete education, he has had advantages in life, 
 which are rarely given to the sons of opulent 
 trado^smen. The phy ician. more especially, 
 if his sectarian principles do not iorbid; be- 
 comes a student at the university, and takes 
 his de|<ree there, and, if his friends have in- 
 terest, he is sent abroad under circumstances 
 advantageous to his future prospects. But 
 
176 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 without the exclusive privileges bestowed by 
 an EngHsh university, the medical student has 
 still great advantages ; foreign universities, as 
 well as that of Edinburgh, are open to him ; 
 and if the student be true to himself, and pro- 
 fits as he ought by his opportunities of virtuous 
 knowledge, he returns to his native country, 
 and takes up his abode there, not only as the 
 accomplished practitioner, but the well-edu- 
 cated gentleman ; and for what has he thus 
 travelled, read, and toiled ? Not to pass the 
 rest of his days in learned indolence, but to 
 engage in the duties of a most painfully labo- 
 rious profession ; to have his time no longer 
 his own, but subject to the often unwelcome 
 requirings of the poor as well as the rich ; he is 
 liable to be forced to forego the pleasures of 
 the social evening, to leave his bed at all times, 
 and pass the night in anxious attendance by 
 the bed of the sufferer, and he often performs 
 these trying duties for a pecuniary recompense, 
 very inadequate to his services ; not from an 
 unwillingness m the person benefited to be- 
 stow a sufficient reward, but simply from ina- 
 bility : for the physician and the surgeon can- 
 not choose the objects of their exertions ; they 
 are, in that respect, like the Freres de la chorite; 
 they have taken upon them the duties of their 
 order, and they must obey the summons to be 
 useful, whether the prince or the peasant be 
 the subject of their benevolent calling But 
 in a consciousness of that usefulness they have 
 a great reward ; and where is the general use- 
 fulness to be compared with that of the medi- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 177 
 
 cal man ? If it be possible for excessive tempe- 
 rance, united to a good constitution, to make 
 the aid of the physician in time almost unne- 
 cessary, it is impossible thai casualties and ac- 
 cidents should not continue to happen, requir- 
 ing the aid and hand of the surgeon and the 
 oculist ; and should the land we live in be torn 
 with internal convulsions ; should the now 
 haughty rich become the humble poor ; still, 
 even amidst the wreck of commerce, and all 
 other professions, the surgical profession at 
 least must survive and flourish. 
 
 But it is not on account of this selfish secu- 
 rity that justly feeling practitioners may love 
 and honour their profession, but for the sake 
 of its dearer privileges ; for what privilege, save 
 that of enlightening the darkened souls of our 
 fellow-creatures, can equal the power of heal- 
 ing sickness, of alleviating pain, of calming the 
 agonies of anxious tenderness, and being re- 
 ceived, even by the depressed, with the smile 
 of welcome 1 And should the men to whom 
 these blessed privileges belong be treated with 
 aught but respect, or received with supercili- 
 ous coldness 1 I have enjoyed the affectionate 
 pleasure, and respectful attention, with which 
 the medical attendant is received in some fa- 
 milies, and thought that it spoke much in fa- 
 vour of both parties. But 1 do not like to see 
 them received like their own medicines ; like 
 something nauseous but necessary, and to be 
 gone without as long as possible. Nay, I be- 
 lieve that it is politic in all persons to cuUivate 
 a benevolent feeling towards their medical at- 
 
178 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 tendants. Xhe sight of a welcome countenance 
 does us good when we are in health ; and if 
 the attendant be considered as a friend as well 
 as physician, his prescriptions will be more 
 like to have a good effect ; the state of the 
 mind and temper have a great deal to do with 
 that of our health, and the medical man, the 
 sight of whom excites the most kind sensations 
 in his patients, will, 1 am confident, be most 
 likely to cure them. 
 
 Yet, one thing more before I conclude these 
 remarks, which it has been no little effort to 
 me to hazard. 
 
 I have ventured to censure those who allow 
 themselves unguardedly to detract from the 
 reputation of medical men ; and now venture 
 to observe, how weak, how dangerous, it is for 
 medical men to detract from the ability of 
 each other, surely they ought to make com- 
 mon cause a^iainst the common enemy ; but I 
 may add with truth, that amonijst the most 
 respectable and dis inguished of the profession, 
 this necessary forbearance is scrupulously ob- 
 served, and they may be the subjects, but are 
 not the utterers of this very reprehensible de- 
 traction. 
 
 There is another class of persons particular- 
 ly exposed to be the subjects of detraction ; 
 namely convkrts to what is called skkious 
 RELiGi<)N ; — but, more especially those who 
 have left the pleasures of the world, after a 
 long and well known participation of them, 
 and who, some of them in the prime of life, 
 some in its middle stage, and some in its de- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 179 
 
 cline, have separated themselves from general 
 intercourse to walk in the more narrow way of 
 christian duties. 
 
 It is possible, that those who have all their 
 lives been secluded from the gay world, not 
 only from inclination, but because they were 
 educated out (»f it, may escape the tongue of 
 detraction if they act consistently with their 
 religious profession. But not so those labour- 
 ers in the vineyard, who have been called into 
 it only at the eleventh hour. In the reality of 
 the call, none of the votaries of the world be- 
 lieve. To interested motives, and probably 
 of a degrading nature, the renunciation of the 
 scenes of their former pleasures i> attributed, 
 and the appellations of hypocrite and dissem- 
 bler are lavished upon them, unless they are 
 gently but more contemptuously still dismissed 
 with the name of fanatic, enthusiast, and ma- 
 niac. But though, in judging of what is called 
 conversion, more ignorance of the human 
 heart, especially of the heart under the influ- 
 ence of spiritual motives, is usually displayed, 
 than on any other subjects, and ignorance 
 evinced by detractors, not only of their vic- 
 tim's creed, but often of the foundation of 
 their own ; I tliink this sort of detraction more 
 excusable than any other; because, in the first 
 place, it is difficult to believe, that what we 
 ourselves deli;cTht in, is not equally delightful 
 to others, and those who are every day enjoy- 
 ing the pleasures of public places, of the ball, 
 of the concert, or of the card-party, find it al- 
 most impossible to admit, that life can be even 
 
180 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 bearable without this succession of excite- 
 ments ; still less can they believe, that those 
 who have once enjoyed, can have been induc- 
 ed to resign them, from any consideration of a 
 pure and spiritual nature ; *' because (they say) 
 the dehghts of this world are positive and 
 tagiblej and vvere, doubtless, given to us by a 
 bountiful Creator to be enjoyed ; therefore, it 
 is time enough to think of another world, and 
 preparations for it, when age and its infirmi- 
 ties have incapacitated us from profiting by 
 them." But how should they understand what 
 they have never experienced ? the superior plea- 
 sures which pursuits of a higher order bestow. 
 Besides, they well know they have the multi- 
 tude with them, and they would therefore think 
 it not only weak but presumptuous to go counter 
 to the world at large, and set themselves up as 
 wiser and holier than others are. Time was 
 when 1 was contented so to reason myself; 
 but, whether from my own experience or not 
 is immaterial, I suspect that these reasons are 
 not the only ones for the severity and injustice 
 with which persons of the world judge those 
 who have, in a great measure, seceded from 
 it. I think detractors, on this occasion, are 
 (unconsciously, perhaps,) irritated into unkind 
 doubts and splenetic remarks, by this con- 
 sideration : " If these enthusiasts are righty 
 how very -wroTig are we /" If it be a duty in- 
 cumbent on christians to improve instead of 
 wasting the time, and to be strangers in the 
 general haunts of dissipation ; and if, as may 
 be possible, these seceders from our circles 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 181 
 
 are really impelled by honest, pious motives, 
 they have, in reality, a great advantage over 
 us ; and if what the apostle James says be true, 
 namely, that " pure religion, and undefiled 
 before God and the Father, is this, to visit the 
 fatherless and widows in their affliction, and 
 to keep ourselves unspotted t>om the world," 
 then, in that first of all competitions — compe- 
 tition for the favour of the Most High — they 
 are, indeed, more likely to succeed than we 
 are ; and instead of being the objects of our 
 calumny, or our contemptuous pity, they might 
 well be the objects of our envy. And doubt- 
 less, a sort of unconscious envy, a jealous in- 
 dignation, is at the bottom of the detraction of 
 which I am now treating ; and, as the compe- 
 tition is of the most awful and important kind, 
 one should be more inclined to view, with 
 christian forbearance and compassion, the de- 
 traction amounting to slander, which the ad- 
 vanced competition in the christian race pro- 
 vokes from those who, though they desire the 
 crowHy cannot enter the lists to obtain it. 
 
 But there is another sort of detractors, who 
 are equally incHned to assault those who have 
 entered on a religious course of life : I mean, 
 that unhappy class of beings who, having tried 
 to convince themselves that this life is all, re- 
 gard with the bitterest contempt self-denying 
 christians, and not only distrust their sincerity, 
 but despise their understanding. It is my 
 conviction that persons, even of this class, are 
 operated upon and impelled to this detraction, 
 by an undefined consciousness or fear, that the 
 16 
 
182 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 idea of another world, and of consequent re- 
 sponsibility in this, are not '* cunningly devis- 
 ed fables" of man's invention, and that, there- 
 fore, those followers of the cross who dare to 
 profess Christ before men, and endeavour to 
 do his will according to their sense of his re- 
 quirings, are more worthy of congratulation 
 than revihngs ; consequently, feeling that con- 
 sistent christians are the most enviable of their 
 fellow-creatures, they hate and calumviaie 
 them the most. But consistent and really con- 
 verted christians can be inclined to return 
 only good for evil to those who thus pelt 
 them, as it were, with stones, as they go on 
 their road to Zion. 
 
 They must remember the spirit and the 
 works of their blessed Lord, when speaking of 
 his persecutors — " Father, forgive them, they 
 know not what they do !" and that spirit will 
 enable them to return conscious contumely 
 with prayer for the conversion of its utterer, 
 and to endeavour to adorn their christian pro- 
 fession with such meekness, such forbearance, 
 such *' gentle offices of patient love," and so 
 " to add to their faith charity," proving also 
 their faith so evidently by their works, that 
 even the scoffer — nay, the infidel, may be led 
 to exclaim in the language of King Agrippa, 
 *' Almost thou persuadest me to be a Chris- 
 tian !" 
 
 Before I quit this subject, I must take notice 
 of a common belief, that the professors of se- 
 rious religion are gloomy and unsocial in their 
 habits and manner!?, and that the path of reli- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 183 
 
 gion is one of briers and thorns. In all reli- 
 gious sects, there will be some few, no doubt, 
 who, na,turally of a gloomy and morose tem- 
 per, may clothe their piety in unattractive 
 austerity, and because physically depressed, 
 may seem morally and religiously so. But I 
 have rarely known any deep-rooted religious 
 cofiviction attended with aught but unaffected 
 comfort ; and were I to select an example of 
 the most perfect happiness and of the most 
 unvarying cheerfulness, I should seek and find 
 it in a religious family ; I should begin my pic- 
 ture with the assembling of the household in 
 the morning for religious instruction and re- 
 ligious purposes. I should follow its mem- 
 bers through the active christian duties to the 
 social meal, the evening circle, the amusing, 
 instructive reading, by one or more persons 
 present, the needle meanwhile plying its busy 
 task for the purposes of charity or well motiv- 
 ed economy, and these rational employments 
 succeeded by a second assembling of the house- 
 hold for religious duties, and all retiring to 
 their respective rooms, full of thankfulness for 
 the deeds of love they may have been enabled 
 to perform in the day, for the innocent and ra- 
 tional enjoyments of the social circle, and for 
 the humble hope, the result of confiding faith, 
 which cheers them on their pillow, that they 
 shall abide under " the shadow of the Al- 
 mighty" through the darkness of the night, 
 and be permitted to see the light of another 
 day, to resume the same occupations, plea- 
 sures, and happiness. Instead of gloom, en- 
 
IS'% DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 
 
 nui, and listlessness, a day so passed seems 
 only too quickly gone ; and unlike those days 
 which are passed in the feverish excitement 
 of dissipated pleasure, which are always fol- 
 lowed by the lassitude of exhaustion, accompa- 
 nied often by a sense of mortified vanity, un- 
 successful competition, and disappointed feel- 
 ings, its labours no doubt brought a blessing 
 on them for their endeavours to bless, and the 
 evening's enjoyments consisted of exertions 
 which enliven without exhausting, and excite 
 without producing consequent depression. 
 
 There are some other prominent objects, 
 peculiarly exposed to detraction, which I must 
 briefly mention ; namely, fathers and mo- 
 thers IN LAW, brothers' WIVES, AND SIS- 
 TERS' husbands. 
 
 Family ties are often snares; the greatest 
 blessings in life have their attendant evils ; 
 weeds spring up by flowers. '* Every rose has 
 its thorn," says the proverb, and when did 
 proverbs speak falsely 1 Compared with the full 
 pages of moralists, they are as drops to gallons, 
 but they are rare and precious drops, like 
 those of attar roses Pope, in his epistle to 
 Addison, on his dialogue on medals, says that 
 ambition 
 
 " found it vain to trust 
 
 The faithless column, and the mouldering bust, 
 Convinc'd she now contracts her vast design, 
 And all her triumphs shrinks into a coin." 
 
 So wisdom, like ambition, as if unwilling to 
 trust her choicest stores to voluminous writers, 
 has consigned her most valuable dictums to 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 185 
 
 the narovv compass of a proverb : and I follow 
 up this eulogy by the well-known proverb of 
 "standers-by see most of the game ;" applying 
 it to myself, thus : I am a tieless soHtary indi- 
 vidual ; some ties I never possessed, and those 
 which I had, are broken and gone ; therefore, 
 as I am a lone, widowed, childless, orphaned, 
 being, I am only " a stander-by" at the game 
 of the affections, at which happiness is the 
 stake ; consequently, as I must be an unpre- 
 judiced and uninterested judge of the ways in 
 which it is played, and sometimes lost, it may 
 not be impertinent for me to make known the 
 results of my experience. And experience 
 has convinced me, that it is almost impossible 
 for those who take on themselves the respon- 
 sible character of fathers and mothers in law, 
 to escape the dangers attendant on it ; and 
 chiefly, because -they arise from the best and 
 tenderest feelings of the relatives of the for- 
 mer connexion. It is not in nature, nor ought 
 it to be, for these to regard the new ties with- 
 out watchful observation, mingled with jealous 
 distrust ; and as bad feelings are never so en- 
 snaring as when they steal on us in the shape 
 of amiable ones, fathers and mothers in law are 
 often commented upon with unjust severity. 
 And though they require every allowance to 
 be made for them on account of the difficulty 
 of their situation, they are too often judged 
 with the pertinacity of jealous feelmg, rather 
 than with the candour of dispassionate discri- 
 mination ; and the peace of the living is some- 
 times sacrificed to the imagined injuries of the 
 16* 
 
 L. 
 
186 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 rights of the dead. No doubt it sometimes 
 happens, that the claims of the dead are forgot- 
 ten in those of the living, but I would urge on 
 the judges on this occasions, the necessity of 
 being on their guard against the deceitfulness 
 of their own hearts, lest they fall into the snare 
 of requiring too much for the sake of those 
 whom they have loved and lost. Let them 
 remember that their desires, however unrea- 
 sonable they may be, are hallowed in their 
 eyes by the force of faithful affection ; and even 
 their selfishness in such a cause assumes the 
 garb of a virtue. 
 
 I have often Hstened with pain to charges 
 against fathers and mothers in law, and wished 
 the accusers could put themselves in the place 
 of the accused, believing that, could they feel 
 the difficulty of the situation, they would be 
 forced to excuse, where they were usually 
 pager to condemn ; and would acknowledge 
 that they had often been led into unreasona- 
 ble expectations, by the mfluence of painful 
 competition, the result of which was, as usual, 
 unjust and ungenerous detraction. 
 
 Brothers' wives are often sufferers from 
 much less excusable feelings in their judges ; 
 for they are commonly those of personal jea- 
 lousy and rivalship. Till brothers marry, their 
 sisters are the first objects in their affections, 
 especially if their parents are dead ; therefore, 
 the marriage of a brother cannot be a pleasant 
 circumstance to unmarried sisters, and the ob- 
 f ject of his choice is consequently exposed to 
 very severe criticism ; besides, it is most pro- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. IS7 
 
 bable that the brother is considered as a para- 
 gon of perfection, and nothing of mortal mould 
 can be deemed worthy of him. 
 
 Self-love, therefore, as well as tenacious af- 
 fection, exposes the poor wife to unindulgent 
 and prejudiced scrutiny, and its results, unjust 
 detraction. Brothers are sometimes as jealous 
 of sisters' husbands, as sisters are of brothers' 
 wives, but not so frequently ; because men 
 have the power of marrying when they choose, 
 and having lost one object of love, can soon 
 seek and obtain another. But this is not the 
 case with sisters if unmarried ; they may not 
 have an opportunity of replacing the beloved 
 object by one dearer still, and therefore the 
 pronoun possessive is at liberty to employ all 
 its influence against their peace ; whispering, 
 like the serpent at the ear of Eve, " this new- 
 sister has deprived us of our influence, and of 
 the aftections once exclusively ours ; that, how- 
 ever, would not signify if she were worthy of 
 our brother, (or brothers ;) but to resign such 
 a treasure to one so inferior I oh ! it is intole- 
 rable !" 
 
 Sisters' husbands are, like sisicrs' lovers, the 
 frequent objects of detraction ; and they also 
 have a strong tendency, from the influence of 
 the pronoun possessive, to exalt their sisters' 
 qualities, and depreciate those of their bro- 
 thers in law, and, formidable proof of the pow- 
 . cr of family conceit ! it is not always that even 
 ; the conviction of their sister's happiness can 
 subdue their belief of their imagined superiority* 
 ^band, and put a stop to the iitter- 
 
 ^ttJieHiusb 
 
188 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.. 
 
 ance of unkind detraction. Yet, surely these 
 feelings ought to be struggled with, and con- 
 quered ; and the prevailing wish, when bro- 
 thers and sisters are added to a family, should 
 be, to receive them with affectionate good will, 
 with a desire to bring their merits forward, 
 and to* be kind to their virtues ; to consider 
 them as objects to be held sacred from ridicule, 
 because they are become the depositaries of 
 the happiness of those whom they tenderly 
 love; they should be welcomed as real friends, 
 not scrutinized as probable enemies ; and never 
 allowed to be, as they too frequently are, the 
 favourite theme of detraction. 
 
 Such uncandid judges should remember that 
 they incur the risk of losing entirely the affec- 
 tions which they so highly prize. 
 
 The wife of the brother, and the husband of 
 the sister, must be more beloved than they are ; 
 and if either of them are conscious of being 
 unjustly depreciated, they may impart their 
 sense of injury to those who love them best ; 
 and the consequence will probably be, that 
 they will become alienated from those who 
 view with prejudice and dislike, the objects of 
 their unqualified admiration. This, therefore, 
 is one of the instances in which it would be 
 policy as well as duty to abstain from de- 
 traction, 
 
 I say in recapitulation here. 
 That having enumerated the different classes 
 of detractors and of detractions, I mention 
 some of those who are particularly the objects 
 of detracting conversation. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED* 1S9^ 
 
 That the authoress must prepare to bo hated, 
 caviied at, and depreciated ; to be judged with- 
 out being read through ; and submit to be mis- 
 quoted and misrepresented. 
 
 That even if a woman publishes anonymous- 
 ly, she must not expect to escape the disad- 
 vantages of authorship ; — that she will appear 
 even to the nearest and dearest few, in a new 
 and unpleasing light. 
 
 That the abstract idea of a female writer in 
 former days was a dirty, ill-dressed, ragged, 
 snuffy-nosed woman, who could not perform 
 the most common and necessary duties of her 
 sex. 
 
 That even in the metropolis, the paradise of 
 authoresses, as the name is a passport into the 
 first circles, the highest praise probably that 
 can be given to a female writer is, " she is real- 
 ly agreeable, and I could not have suspected 
 her of being an authoress." 
 
 That it is better for authors and authoresses 
 who wish to benefit others by their works, 
 not to live in the busy haunts of men. That 
 the assumption of the power to teach can only 
 be forgiven and admitted, if the teacher lives 
 in retirement — that the Oracles of Delphos 
 would not have been believed in and acted 
 upon at Iiome, had they been deUvered at a 
 neighbouring Tripod, and from a native priest- 
 ess ; and that " familiarity breeds contempt,'' 
 is a proverb founded on the experience of 
 
 That according to the origin of the Blue- 
 stocking club, which I give in these pages, the 
 
190 DKtRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 men and women who belonged to it were both 
 called Blue-stockings. 
 
 That women at that period did not as now, 
 shrink from the title of Blue-stocking. That 
 the women of the present day should rather 
 confess that they are blues, than eagerly deny 
 it ; as a blue-stocking means one who employs 
 and improves her time, and that if she owned 
 her right to the title, the petty assaulter, be he 
 man or woman, would drop the weapon as soon 
 as he saw that it had not power to wound. 
 
 That to detract from the skill of medical 
 MEN, and make their supposed incompetence 
 the theme of our conversation, is a most un- 
 warrantable sort of detraction, and may be 
 destruction to their prospects in life. That the 
 persons so speaking are often not competent 
 to form a judgment on the subjects on which 
 they are so eager to decide. 
 
 That we never call the truth of a lawyer's 
 opinion into question, and doubt and canvass 
 it in society. 
 
 That many, not contented with interfering 
 with the prescriptions of the surgeon or phy- 
 sician, accuse them of killing this or that per- 
 son, and say that to call them in would be in- 
 viting death. 
 
 That such language is defamation, and might 
 be prosecuted, but that there is a tacit agree- 
 ment in what is called good society, theft such 
 conversations are confidential, and are not to be 
 repeated to the injury of the utterer of them. 
 
 That I have always beheld the medical pro- 
 fession with great respect, not only for the 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 191 
 
 sake or near and dear relatives, but for its own- 
 That, thinking its members are not treated 
 with due distinction in society, I am always 
 pleased when they are elevated by the favour 
 of the sovereign, into a certain degree of rank, 
 and thus hfted into more than equality with 
 many who treat the medical attendant with a 
 sort of supercilious graciousness, as if far below 
 themselves in the grades of society. 
 
 That, in truth, if the medical man has re- 
 ceived a complete education, he has had advan- 
 tages in life rarely given to the sons of opulent 
 tradesmen. 
 
 That no privilege, save that of enlightening 
 the darkened souls of our fellow-creatures, can 
 equal that of healing sickness, alleviating pain, 
 and of being received, even by the depressed, 
 with a smile of welcome. 
 
 That it is poUtic in all persons to cultivate 
 a benevolent feeling towards their medical at- 
 tendant. 
 
 That it is weak and dangerous in medical 
 men to detract from the abilities of each other ; 
 that they should make common cause agamst 
 the common enemy ; and that the most rej^pect- 
 able men in the profession set an example of 
 this forbearance. 
 
 That those who have made a religious pro- 
 fession are particularly exposed to detraction, 
 whether they have left the pleasures of the 
 world in the prime of their days, in middle 
 life, or in its decHne. 
 
 That the reality of their call is doubted, and 
 niotives attributed to them of a vile, degrading 
 
1/92 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 nature, and they are called cants and hypo- 
 crites, or fanatics, enthusiasts, or maniacs. 
 
 That in judging of conversion, more igno- 
 rance of the human heart is exhibited than in 
 any thing else ; but, that this detraction is the 
 most excusable of any. 
 
 That it is excusable because it is difficult to 
 believe, that what we ourselves delight in can 
 ever cease to delight others. 
 
 That I suspect that detractors on these oc- 
 casions are irritated into splenetic doubts and 
 remarks, by this consideration, " If these en- 
 thusiasts are right, how wrong, how very wrong, 
 must we be !" 
 
 That there is another set of men who are 
 equally disposed to attack those who have en- 
 tered on a religious course of life ; I mean those 
 who have tried to convince themselves that 
 this life is all, and who either distrust these 
 self-denying christians' sincerity, or despise 
 their understandings. 
 
 That I believe this class of beings are impel- 
 led by a feeling of secret envy, as they can- 
 not be quite sure that another world is one of 
 *' the cunningly devised fables ;" therefore they 
 feel that the followers of the cross of Christ 
 will have a great advantage over them, if their 
 creed be right, and that consequently, the con- 
 sistent christian is of all beings the most to be 
 envied, and therefore to be hated and calum- 
 niated the most. 
 
 That it is a great error to believe that pro- 
 fessors of serious religion are gloomy. That, 
 on the contrary, the most perfect cheerfulness, 
 
DETUACTION DISPLAYED. 19l3 
 
 evenness of spirit, and uninterrupted happiness^ 
 is to be found in the christian family, such aa 
 I have tried to describe. 
 
 That fathers and mothers in law, brothers'' 
 wives and sisters' husbands, are also prominent 
 objects for detraction ; that the detractors from 
 the tirst of these should be particularly on their 
 guard against the deceitfulness of their own 
 hearts, because theirdetraction springs probably 
 from good and amiable motives ; and lastly, that 
 the latter are under the dominion of feelings 
 which are less excusable, and which policy as 
 well as principle should lead them to struggle 
 with and subdue. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ON DEFAMATIO:??. 
 
 I MUST now discuss the most painful part of 
 my subject ; namely, that excess of detraction 
 which becomes defamation. Defamation iS 
 always detraction ; but though the tongue, 
 which is ready to detract, is well fitted to de- 
 fame, still, detraction is not positively defama- 
 tion. 
 
 It was against the utterers of detraction 
 amounting to defamation, that the punishment 
 of standing in a white sheet in the aisle or 
 porch of a church, was awarded by the justice 
 of our ancestors; and when I first entered into 
 ^a^iatvj and heard reputations gos'sme^l a^vay, 
 17 
 
194 DETRACTION DISPLAYED* 
 
 I used to consider the abolition of this punish" 
 ment as a national evil ; nay, I have sometimes 
 amused myself with imagining certain of our 
 acquaintances standing in the aisle of their pa- 
 rish church, in this well-deserved attire! and 
 had I possessed the power of grouping with 
 my pencil, many persons might have seen their 
 faces peeping from under its degrading folds, 
 who would have been unconscious that they 
 deserved to figure there, though, for the slan- 
 de rous frequenters of an ale-house, or inhabit- 
 ants of a cottage, they would have judged it 
 a proper punishment. But as sinners in robes 
 were always more offensive to me than sinners 
 in rags, and the slanderer of the drawing-room 
 than that of the kitchen, (as ignorance may 
 excuse the one but cannot the other,) I wrapt 
 the white sheet in idea round the rich alone, 
 and should have rejoiced to see my imagina- 
 tions realized. But, as I have increased in 
 years, I have learnt to make more allowance 
 for the infirmities of others, taught and hum- 
 bled by a growing sense of my own ; and the 
 white sheet, or, indeed, any punishments for 
 offences which are common to us all as erring 
 mortals, I have ceased to feel any desire to sec 
 inflicted, even, as I humbly trust, on those who 
 have calumniated myself. Still, I have not 
 ceased to feel a strong emotion of indignation 
 whenever I hear defamation uttered against 
 friend or foe ; and alas! there are few persons 
 who have lived in the world, whether in pub- 
 lic or in private life, without hearing their ac- 
 quaintances, iwale or ftmale, accused of faults 
 
BETRACTION DISPLAYED. 195 
 
 which, if proved, would have driven them 
 from society, I have frequently heard accu- 
 sations uttered, which made accusers responsi- 
 ble to the power of the law, and uttered too 
 with a degree of self-complacency, for the in- 
 genious malice with which the charge was 
 worded, not only painful but appalhng to wit- 
 ness. Which of my readers, as well as myself, 
 has not heard a lawyer accused of taking a 
 bribe to lose a cause for his client ! or a phy- 
 sician or surgeon accused of killing his patients, 
 either by his system, his rashness, or his igno- 
 rance 1 Which of us has not heard some per- 
 sons accused of suppressing or forging a will? 
 Who has not listened to the aspersions of the 
 fair fame of woman, for which the utmost ven- 
 geance of the law could not have afforded the 
 slightest recompense 1 and this, too, in what is 
 called good company ! 
 
 Far be it from me to plead for those of my 
 own sex, who, regardless of decorum, have 
 been contented to be innocent, without being 
 careful to appear so ; who have carried liveli- 
 ness to the borders of levity, and worn the 
 semblance of errors, which they, in their in- 
 imost heart, abhorred ; such mistaken women 
 must be content to take the consequences of 
 their own actions, and, though their indiscre- 
 tion does not at all excuse the slander and 
 iMickbiting of their accusers, still they must 
 bend in humble resignation to the punishment 
 of which they are conscious. But I hare known 
 instances where the most correct conduct has 
 Hot preserved from defamation. 
 
t 
 
 196 liElRACTION PrSPLAYEu. 
 
 I know, that there have been men and wo- 
 men too, who though supported by the con- 
 sciousness of innocence, have yet pined, bro- 
 ken-hearted through hfe, bowed by a sense of 
 degradation which they never deserved ; and 
 have sunk into an early grave, from the con- 
 sequences of calumnies, spoken originally, 
 perhaps, in the orgies of bacchanalian revelry, 
 and repeated as much in wantonness as ma- 
 lignity at the tea-table of the gossip. Alas ! 
 these unfortunates might have exclaimed with 
 the frogs in the fable, when some wanton boys 
 threw stones into their pond, " It may be sport 
 to you, but it is death to us." 
 
 Nay, I believe that there are individuals 
 tremblingly alive to the opinion of others, who 
 nre preserved from misery, and prevented 
 Irom hiding themselves in obscurity, merely 
 by being allowed to remain unconscious ta 
 vhat vile motives even their best actions arc 
 attributed. For as the somnambulist can walk 
 in safety in the midst of peril, only while his 
 sleep is permitted to continue, so these objects 
 of unmerited obloquy are preserved in peace 
 only as long as they are ignorant of their 
 wrongs ; but inform the calumniated, and awak- 
 en the sleep-walker, and wretchedness even 
 for life would probably be the fate of the one, 
 and dislocated joints or death, of the other. 
 
 My own sex must bear with me, v/hile I say 
 
 I that though every man is debased in my eyes 
 
 "when I hear him accuse a woman of any gross 
 
 offence, and though I consider his attack on 
 
 defenceless females as mean and unmanly ; yet. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 19^7 
 
 i -am still more wounded when I hear the 
 tongue of woman busy with the fame of woman, 
 and when the scandalous story is propagated 
 by a female slanderer. Men would not dare 
 to slander one female in the presence of ano- 
 ther, if we were true to ourselves ; if, instead 
 o^ seeming to enjoy the odious tale, we were 
 to declare ourselves degraded at being supposed 
 capable of relishing it, and were to throw the 
 shield of our candour and disbelief over the 
 unconscious and probably innocent victim. 
 
 No one has a right to believe that any man 
 or woman deserves to be exiled from respecta- 
 ble society, unless the proofs of guilt are too 
 strong to be denied ; therefore, the propagators 
 of unproved charges, ought to be deemed as 
 infamous in one way, as those whom they ac- 
 cuse can be in another ; and they are particu- 
 ly unbecoming the soft voice of woman. 
 
 ** What's female beauty but an air divine, 
 Through which the mind's all gentle graces shine ?" 
 
 says Dr. Young in his " Universal Passion," 
 and if this be true, the woman, be she ever 
 so beautiful, who reac|ily listens to a tale of 
 scandal, and smiles on the propagators, forfeits 
 that " air divine " of which the poet speaks, 
 and loses her claim to those gentle graces " 
 which bestow a beauty that time can never 
 destroy, the beauty of the candid mind and 
 benevolent heart, illuminating the countenance 
 and giving charm to the conversation. Thtj 
 following extract from an American writer, 
 from whose httle work, " The Brief Examine 
 17* 
 
 I 
 
1^6 l^fiTRACTJON UlSPLAVER. 
 
 ei'j'" I have derived amusement, and, I hope, 
 profit, is well suited to this subject. " It would 
 be passing no deception on a young girl at 
 school, to tell her along with more solemn ex- 
 hortations, that the feelings and dispositions 
 from which spring calumny and backbiting 
 would deform her face ; for what is that beauty 
 in the female face, which pleases all beholders ? 
 It consists chiefly in the aspect that indicates 
 good affections. Every indication of candour, 
 gentleness, and benignity, is a beauty ; on the 
 contrary, every feature or aspect of counte- 
 nance that indicates pride, envy, or malignity, 
 is a deformity. Nor does it need proof, that 
 in frequent instances the face becomes at length 
 the index of the passions which one habitually 
 harbours, whether they be of the benevolent 
 or the malignant kind. One remark more, and 
 no trifling one. There scarcely can be a more 
 attractive feature in the character of a woman, 
 than her veiling, or treating with sisterly can- 
 dour, those petty blemishes from which she is 
 happily exempt herself." 
 
 When I began this work I had convinced 
 myself that though detraction was a common 
 vice, defamation was not ; but the experience 
 even of the last year has convinced me that 
 wherever the spirit of the world exists, not 
 only that of detraction but of defamation exists 
 also, and that though I may not be as much 
 exposed to hear its breathings as 1 once was, 
 they are to be heard, and that where the de» 
 tractor is, the defamer is not far behind. Even 
 when, which is rarely the case, reports are not 
 
jbETRACTION BISPLAYED. 199 
 
 false, still it is our duty to suspend our belief 
 of tbem, till to doubt is no longer possible. 
 And, if true, why should I undertake the un- 
 becoming task of spreading the disgrace ? If I 
 have no personal ill-will towards the ofi'ender, 
 what motive but a love of evil speaking can 
 induce me to do so 1 and if 1 have, it is the 
 more necessary that I should be silent, lest I 
 should be indulging a feeling of revenge* The 
 author of the Government of the Tongue gives 
 the epithet of lying to defamation ; and justly, 
 because those who are eager to tell a tale of 
 scandal, are ready to heighten its effects by the 
 aid of invention, especially if the tale be against 
 any one who has wounded their self-love? 
 moreover, a charge, after being bruited about 
 by several tongues, increases in guilt and im- 
 portance so much, that the first utterer of it 
 would scarcely know it again. How unsatis- 
 factory often is the evidence for the truth of a 
 calumnious report. " Who told thee this 1 
 and how dost thou know it is true ?" *' Oh ! 
 because such a one told me, and he had it from 
 lady so and so, and she knows the parties inti- 
 mately." Admirable authority! for if lady so and 
 go knows the parties intimately, was she likely 
 to gossip av»ay their character ? and if she was 
 treacherous enough to malign her intimate as- 
 sociates. I must have better evidence than that 
 of so unprincipled a person, before I could be- 
 lieve the scandal uttered. Yet it is on such 
 evidence as the foregoing, that one finds nine 
 calumnies out of ten are founded and propa- 
 gated*. 
 
200 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 I have given a specimen of the dialogue of 
 talkers-over, and shown the progress of detrac- 
 tion, and though I shrink from the task, I shall 
 venture to display in another dialogue the pro- 
 gress of defamation.* 
 
 We will suppose the parties first assembled 
 to be the master and mistress of the house, 
 their two daughters, a boy of thirteen — their 
 son, and myself, luncheon being ahnost con- 
 cluded, and the elder girl is showing me some 
 fine prints in the next room, but as the door is 
 open I hear all that passes. " Hark ! there is 
 a knock, my dear ! Ring the bell to have the 
 luncheon taken away." " Make haste, sis- 
 ter!'' cries one of the girls, lowering her voice,: 
 " for it is Mrs. Kappa, and we must have more 
 luncheon for her if she sees it, for she has such 
 an appetite !" *' Dear me, mamma," cries the 
 other girl, '* she always contrives to come at 
 our luncheon time, for she is so stingy, she 
 does not allow herself any at home." " In- 
 deed !" says the papa. " Yes, I believe it is 
 true," cries the mamma. By this time, the 
 bell has rung, the luncheon is removed, and 
 the visiter enters just as the mother has ex- 
 pressed her joy that the table is cleared. " How 
 are you, my dear Mrs. Kappa," says the mis- 
 tress of the house, " glad to see you." " Pray 
 sit down, my good friend," says her husband, 
 
 * Though ignorant of the Greek language, I have ven- 
 tured to give the persons in my dialogues the names of the 
 Greek alphabet, because I feared that if I put Mrs. or Mr. 
 L — or D — , some persons might choose to fancy I meant 
 some particular individuals. 
 
PETXIACTION DISPLAYED. 201 
 
 our luncheon is only just gone." " I am sor- 
 ry you did not come sooner," says the wife. 
 ^'You are very good," replies Mrs. Kappa, 
 " but I rarely eat luncheon." " But, perhaps, 
 you will take something, a piece of cake, and 
 a glass of wine." " Oh ! no, thank you," she 
 replies faintly, meaning to be pressed, but her 
 no is suffered to pass for what it was not meant 
 to be, a negative ; and the parties sit down, all 
 but the master of the house, who leans against 
 the chimney-piece, with one hand m his waist- 
 coat pocket, swinging himself backwards and 
 forwards, and the elder daughter and myself 
 who are now turning over a portfolio on the 
 table, " Well, Mrs. Kappa," says the master 
 of the house, *' is there any news stirring 1" 
 *^ Yes, a good deal, but then it may not be 
 true." " No matter, what is it ?" " They say 
 young Zeta is gone off in debt, and has robbed 
 his father to a considerable amount !" ** That 
 was to be expected fron^ his bringing up." 
 *'Yes, certainly." In this opinion all join, 
 and there is a chorus of " parents that spoil 
 their children must take the consequences." 
 At this moment a Major Mu is announced, 
 and after the usual compliments, the Major 
 says, " W^ll, have you heard the news ?" 
 *' Yes," says the elder girl, " if you mean that 
 joung Zeta is gone off." *« Oh ! he is gone 
 ^uite off, is he, and not taken ]" replies the 
 Major, *« What do you mean ?" " Why, they 
 Sfay he has committed a forgery." " Very 
 likely, but are you sure of it ?' " Oh ! no, not 
 sure ; nay, 1 believe it was only said that some 
 
202 DETRACTION DISPLAVED. 
 
 one had supposed it most likely he had com- 
 mitted forgery." " Oh, that is all ; well, but 
 what other news have you 1" '* The lovely 
 Helen micron is going to be married to a 
 man some years older than her father !" " Very 
 likely !" observes Mrs. Kappa, " she had out- 
 staid her market, and I dare say the gentleman 
 is very rich." " Besides," says the father, 
 " she has made herself so talked of, for our 
 friend Sir William Rho, that she may think 
 herself well off to get married at all." " With 
 Sir William ! 1 never heard of that before, I 
 remember she was violently in love with a 
 young ensign, and once, I believe, was just 
 saved from eloping with her singiag master." 
 " At last," cries the -Major, " she is provided 
 for, and will soon be safe from elopements I 
 trust." " That is not so sure," says the father 
 significantly, " but who is the gentleman ?" 
 " Sir Martin Tau, Baronet." " A Baronet too ? 
 what luck ! where did she meet him 1" " Oh ! 
 at a watering place." *' They have given her 
 the chance of those places every season, you 
 know," cries the Major, *' for her best days 
 were long ago over : she was talked of for me ! 
 (drawing up his neckcloth) and I had the run 
 of their house, but it would not do — she was 
 too old." " So it was at a watering place, was 
 it ?" says the mother. At which her friend 
 Kappa, who was not pleased, probably, at 
 missing her luncheon, and had great talents 
 for stinging and flinging, besides some cat- 
 like* propensities ; observed in a soft tone, 
 
 *■ By cat-like, I mean having the cat's prop^eosity to 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED- 203 
 
 " I think, my dear friend, you never take your 
 daughters to watering places ;" well knowing 
 that they went to one every year, and the mo- 
 ther with a heightened colour replies to the 
 stinger, " Oh ! dt ar yes I do, but all persons' 
 daughters have not the same luck." Lady 
 Lambda is now announced, who says, when 
 we are all seated, " I suppose you have heard 
 that old Lady Pi is dying at lubt, and that as 
 soon as decency permits, her husband will 
 marry Miss Sigma." *' Decency !" is the ge- 
 neral exclamation. " If they had any regard to 
 decency," says the mistress of the house, " the 
 marriage could not have been talked of, but 
 his fondness for that girl was notorious ! how 
 
 give a coup de patfe^ a sudden stroke of the paw, when 
 the creature seemis in perfect amity with one, and in 
 harmless play. The nickname of cats is, I know, exclu- 
 sively given to that much- injured body of women called 
 *' old maids," but I do not see the peculiar justice of the 
 appellation as applied to them. On the contrary, accord- 
 ing to my definition of the teim cat, it applies to all young 
 men and women married or single, as well as to the old 
 of both sexes, who from a sort of treacherous impulse 
 take pleasure in saying something wounding to one's 
 feelings, and mortifying 'o one's self-love, whether it re- 
 gards one's self or those in whom we are interested ; and 
 whp, even in moments of unsuspecting good will, by the 
 utterance of some sudden sarcasm at the commencement 
 perhaps of a friendly intercourse, convert the social feel- 
 ing into one .of conscious injury, and occasion a wound 
 which rankles in the bosom of the injured, during the rest 
 of the meeting. Oh ! there are many cats in the world ! 
 and I have seen even youth and beauty become sudden- 
 ly otfensive to my sight, by the expression of malevolent 
 pleasure at having given, cat-like, a coup de patte^ which 
 had inflicted a wouod on the sensitive nature of an unoffend- 
 ing companion. 
 
£04 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 I have pitied poor Lady Pi !" " Oh !*' cries th^ 
 Major, " she had her consolations /" putting 
 his hand to his mouth as if drinking. 
 
 " ! {ye 1" cries Lady Lambda, giving him 
 a reproving pat, in which there was much en- 
 couragement ; " this is scandal, and I hate 
 scandal." " But is it not scandal," says one 
 of the party, « to talk of this marriage at all 1" 
 ** Pershaps so," replies Lady Lambda, " but 
 they talk much worse scandal, I assure you." 
 '* Indeed," cries the eager Kappa, drawing her 
 chair closer to Lady Lambda, " and they do 
 
 say " *' What!" eagerly exclaim both the 
 
 ladies. " That when Miss Sigma was staying 
 at'the house. Lady Pi missed a gown and some 
 line lace out of her wardrobe ; and one of the 
 servants was suspected of having stolen them. 
 But one day, when Lady Pi was confined to 
 her room, and Miss Sigma was to have the 
 cariage to carry her to a party. Lady Pi, who 
 had been carried to the window for air, saw- 
 Miss Sigma get into the carriage in the very 
 gown which she missed, and, as she believed, 
 her own lace on her collerette 1" '' Really ! 
 what impudence !" " But," observed one of 
 the party, " Why should not this young lady 
 have a gown like Lady Pi's." '* Oh, but it 
 was a very expensive flowered muslin gown, 
 and Miss Sigma could not aj'ord to buy such 
 an one." " But Sir George Pi could afford to 
 give," said the Major. " IViie," said the 
 master of the house, *' but Miss Sigma is, you 
 know, a very taking woman." " Excellent ! 
 Excellent I" " But you know," said the M?> 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYEP^ 203 
 
 jor, emulous of his friend's punning fame, " If 
 Sir George takes the lady, she will, after all, 
 find herself Mis^TAKKN." " What, mistaken !" 
 says one. *' I dont exactly see that," cries 
 another ; while the mortified Major is on the 
 point of being forced to explain his vile quib- 
 ble, when Lady Lambda exclaims, " Oh ! 1 see 
 it ! excellent ! excellent ! Major, Miss, tokenJ^^ 
 " But, Major," cried the master of the house, 
 alarmed for his laurels, " Lady Pi herself, ac- 
 cording to you, was a taking woman," and a 
 chorus of laughs repays him. And now that, 
 like the knife of the heathen priest, their de- 
 tracting weapon is sharpened for the sacrifice 
 of victims by imagined wit, they eagerly de- 
 mand more news, more scandal, and the ready 
 weapon descends on a new victim in the shape 
 of Colonel Upsilon. 
 
 <* Well but, Lady Lambda, you said you had 
 more wesys," asked the mistress of the house, 
 when this interruption was over. " O yes, 
 Colonel Upsilon has made his choice at last ; he 
 has given up the widow Theta, and is to have 
 the widow Iota, ; it is said his poor wife, know- 
 ing he was courting bot/i, advised this prefer- 
 ence." 
 
 *' I am quite sure," cries one of the party 
 rather indignantly, *^ that his wife had no rea- 
 son to be jealous, he was one of the most kind 
 and attentive of husbands, and such a nurse." 
 
 '^ A very attentive nurse, indeed," says La- 
 dy Lambda. *' Yes," says the lady of the 
 house, with an emphasis. " Hush, hush, my 
 dear," cries the husband, " No ; I choose to 
 18 
 
206 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 speak out, my love ; they do say that he chose 
 to prescribe for his wife as well as nurse her, 
 and medical men think she was not the better 
 for his prescriptions." 
 
 Thus they began by a charge of robbery, an 
 accusation of forgery, imputations of levity, in 
 one young lady, and they imply against ano- 
 ther a charge of flirting with a married man, 
 and stealing his wife's clothes ; and they end 
 by charging a husband with prescribing wrong 
 medicines for his wife ! What a climax of de- 
 famation ! yet, awful as it is, I have witnessed 
 such an one frequently in the course of my ex- 
 perience, and have commonly been able to 
 trace some of it to the results of compelition. 
 
 On this occasion, I wish my readers to be- 
 lieve, that I quitted the company after this last 
 speech, glad to make my escape^ though I knew 
 that I left my character behind me for a prey 
 and a pastime. 
 
 And what a cold-blooded, heartless, and 
 mean, as well as criminal, enjoyment was this 
 defamation! What an unsafe and fearful amuse- 
 ment! 
 
 When accidents happen and lives are lost, 
 whether on land or water, we feel our pity and 
 regret increased if the killed or drowned met 
 their fate on a party of pleasure ; and whence 
 does this proceed, but from the afflicting con- 
 trast between the glad expectation and the 
 mournful reality, between the viev/s of the un- 
 conscious parties and their miserable results 1 
 But, those who believe defamation to be a great 
 crime, and that its ulterers are liable to the 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 207 
 
 wrath of an offended Deity, must listen to the 
 conversation of defamers with pity of the same 
 nature, but of a still greater degree of strength, 
 for they must consider them as having met, 
 like the victims on the land or water, for the 
 purposes of pleasure ; and as having incurred, 
 by the calumnies in which they sought enjoy- 
 ment, that second death, more terrible than 
 the first — the death not of the body but the 
 soul. 
 
 Defamation is, indeed, a crime so conscious- 
 ly lowering, that most persons are unwilhng 
 to own that they commit it ; and though they 
 call the slanders which they hear detestable, 
 they distinguish those which they utter by the 
 plausible name of the expression of^ proper iu' 
 dignation and retributive justice. 
 
 The speakers in a dialogue, like that which 
 I have given, would each in turn exclaim, at 
 the first opportunity, probably, against the de- 
 tracting and defaming tongue of their recent 
 associates. Few persons, if any, have courage 
 enough, admitting that they have sufficient 
 self-knowledge, to say to themselves, *• I am 
 a detractor, I am a defamer, I propagated an 
 evil report against that man on such a day, 
 because I was envious of him ; and another day 
 I injured such a woman's reputation, by telhng 
 a slanderous story of her, because she had 
 wounded my self-love." Yet. there are many 
 persons in the world who might make the con- 
 fession to themselves almost aity day in the 
 week. Once and only once I saw, as I believe, 
 a person deeply impressed with the weight of 
 
208 DETRACTION DISPLAVED. 
 
 the crime of defamation ; and as if the burdened 
 heart wished, but dared not, to throw off its 
 load entirely by a complete confession. A 
 gentleman called on my husband and myself 
 one evening, with whom we had spent the 
 preceding afternoon at the house of a mutual 
 acquaintance. " Did you stay long after I's ?'* 
 said my husband. " Oh yes !" replied the 
 other, " long indeed ! I staid, sitting up with 
 the man and his wife, till near two in the 
 morning ; for we did not know how time went !" 
 " Then your conversation must have been very 
 interesting." *' Yes !" was the reply, in an 
 odd tone and with a flushed cheek ; '' but it 
 was dreadful also ; there was not one of our 
 acquaintances that we did not bring before our 
 tribunal ; and we did not show any mercy ! Oh ! 
 it was too bad !" He then covered his face, 
 adding, " and there was that fiend, the wife, 
 pretending to be shocked at our severity, and 
 calling us odious calumniators ! but if our cruel- 
 ty abated one moment, she would goad us on 
 again by some diabolical remark ; till, at last, 
 we had gone so far in deadly defamation, 
 that we felt almost ashamed to look each other 
 in the face I" We were really shocked into 
 silence, and were impressed, at the same mo- 
 ment, with the same conviction, namely, that 
 we ourselves had been two of the victims of- 
 fered up at the shrine of defamation, and that 
 the speaker wished to satisfy his conscience 
 by confessing it, but dared not do more than 
 insinuate the degrading fact. I may add, that 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 209 
 
 %ve rejoiced to be the objects, rather than the 
 utterers of this unmerciful defamation. 
 
 I here observe in recapitulation, 
 
 That as I have advanced in years and expe- 
 rience, I have learnt to feel more indulgence 
 towards the infirmities of others, Uaught and 
 humbled by a growing sense of my own ; and 
 have therefore ceased to wish the white sheet, 
 or any other punishment inflicted for offences, 
 in a degree common to us as erring mortals ; 
 not even, I humbly trust, on those who have 
 calumniated myself. 
 
 That, notwithstanding, I never hear defama- 
 tion uttered, whether it be of friend or foe, 
 without a feeling of strong indignation. 
 
 That we have heard lawyers accused of be- 
 ing ready to take a bribe to lose a cause for a 
 client : physicians and surgeons of killing their 
 patients, either by their system, rashness, or 
 ignorance ; have heard some persons accus- 
 ed of suppressing or forging a will, and have 
 listened to aspersions on the fair fame of many 
 a woman, for which the utmost vengeance of 
 the law could be to them no recompense, and 
 this, in "what is called good company I 
 
 -That I cannot excuse the thoughtless of my 
 own sex, who, regardless of decorum, have 
 been contented to be innocent, without be- 
 ing scrupulously careful to appear so, and 
 who have carried liveliness to the borders of 
 levity, and worn the semblance of errors, 
 which they in their inmost soul abhorred. 
 That such mistaken women must submit pa- 
 tiently to the consequences of their own ac- 
 18* 
 
'210 DETEACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 ttons ; but that I have known the most correct 
 conduct not preserve from defamation. 
 
 That there have been men and women too, 
 who, though supported by the consciousness 
 of innocence, have yet pined through hfe, bow- 
 ed under a sense of undeserved degradation, 
 and sunk at length into an early grave, victims 
 of calumnies originally uttered, perhaps, and 
 repeated, as much in wantonn s^ as malignity, 
 in the orgies of a dinner-table, or at the tea-par- 
 ty of the gossip. 
 
 That I believe there are many persons of 
 sensitive natures, and tremblingly alive to the 
 opinion of others, who are preserved from mi- 
 sery, and prevented from hiding themselves m 
 obscurity, merely from being allowed to re- 
 main unconscious to what vile motives even 
 their best actions are attributed. That as the 
 somnambulist can walk in safety in the midst 
 of peril, only while his sleep is permitted to 
 continue, so these sensitive beings can be pre- 
 served in peace only as long as they remain 
 ignorant of their wrongs ; but inform the ca- 
 lumniated, and awake the sleep-walker, and 
 wretchedness for life would, probably, be the 
 fate of one, and dislocation or death of the other. 
 
 That my own sex must bear with me while 
 I say, that though men are debased in my eyes 
 whenever they bring defamatory charges 
 against women, women appear to me more re- 
 prehensible still, when they are guilty of the 
 same crime ; and that no man would dare to 
 slander any female in the presence of another, 
 if we were true to ourselves ; and iastead of 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 211 
 
 seeming to enjoy the odious tale, were to own 
 ourselves degraded^ as we certainly are, by 
 being supposed capable of relishing it. 
 
 That I do not believe all defamation to be 
 false, but that it is our duty to suspend our be- 
 lief till doubt is impossible. That, even then 
 we should not propagate the tale. That, if I 
 have no personal resentment towards the of- 
 fender, what motive for it can I have, but a 
 love of evil-speaking ? and if I have, I might, 
 possibly, in doing so, be actuated by unchris- 
 tian revenge. 
 
 That those who are eager to tell a tale of 
 scandal, are doubtless ready to heighten it by 
 invention, especially if it be against any one 
 who has wounded their self love. 
 
 That nothing can be ^more unsatisfactory 
 than the evidence for the truth of a calumni- 
 ous report. 
 
 That having given a specimen of the dialogue 
 of talkers-over, I venture to display in another 
 dialogue the progress of defamation. 
 
 That the defamation in this dialogue was a 
 mean as well as criminal enjoyment, and an 
 unsafe and fearful amusement, and wherefore — 
 
 That defamation is indeed a crime so lower- 
 ing, that most persons are unwilhng to own 
 that they commit it. 
 
 That they call the slanders they hear detest- 
 able, but those they utter only retributive jus- 
 tice. 
 
 That I once, and only once, saw a person, 
 as I believe, deeply impressed with the weight 
 of the crime of defamation. And lastly, I give 
 tho anecdote alluded to. 
 
212 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ON THOSE MOST PARTICULARLY EXPOSED TO 
 DEFAMATION. 
 
 " There is no rule without an exception," 
 says the proverb, and though I firmly believe 
 in the truth of my own system, that competi- 
 tion is the most abundant source of detraction, 
 and often of defamation, still there are instances 
 of both, which cannot be imputed to competi- 
 tion and rivalry. 
 
 Temper is a great provocative to defama- 
 tion, and often does* its work without the goad 
 of competition, since few tempers are so sweet 
 as not to take pleasure in venting bad feelings 
 in bitter sayings. But when the feeling of un- 
 successful competition is united to ill-govern- 
 ed temper, then are the consequences often 
 frightful to contemplate, for they have some- 
 times led not only to defamation, but to mur- 
 derous revenge. The defarner and the mur- 
 derer, have undoubtedly some feelings in com- 
 mon, particularly such as deal in anonymous 
 and secret slander ; perhaps, nameless calum- 
 niators, who wield their pen secretly and se- 
 curely against those whom they hate or envy, 
 would, if they dared, assail their persons with 
 the knife of the assassin. 
 
 Party spirit is one never-failing sourca^of 
 positive defamation, and partizans of all ranks 
 
UETRACTION DISPLAYED. 2V6 
 
 and classes are amongst the most prominent 
 objects of it — for instance, the competition 
 which results from an election leads to unwar- 
 rantable judgments, and infamous calumnies. 
 There is no slander, however improbable, that 
 the friends of one candidate will not believe 
 and propagate of the friends of the other, and 
 the candidates themselves are not only falsely 
 accused at this present time, but are sure to 
 have even their long-forgotten, and perhaps, 
 falsely imputed faults in days that are past, 
 brought forward in array against them. And 
 how powerful are party names to excite illi- 
 beral judgment ? I have often heard whigs de- 
 clare that there never was an honest tory, and 
 lories assert that all whigs were rogues ; and 
 whence this narrow minded, and other as mis- 
 chievous defamation, but from the bad temper 
 produced by party spirit ? this therefore is an 
 instance to confirm the truth of my assertion, 
 that when competition is united to ill govern- 
 ed temper, the results are formidable, and lead 
 to fatal consequences. I have said before, that 
 all public characters are exposed to the temp- 
 tations of detraction incident to competition ; 
 but I must further observe, that ministers, 
 members of parHament, and all public func- 
 tionaries, together with kings, princes, and 
 persons of high rank, are the objects of con- 
 stant defamation, even where the utterers can 
 be in no competition with them ; namely, 
 amongst the middle classes in society. I have 
 known individuals in private life, who would 
 scruple to spread a report to the disadvantage 
 
214 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 of an acquaintance or neighbour, willing to be- 
 lieve and eager to propagate a slander against 
 a royal personage, or a ministerial or opposi- 
 tion leader. Sometimes, perhaps, this also 
 may be accounted for by party spirit, but not 
 always, as princesses, and women of high rank 
 who are not politically prominent, are also the 
 subjects of their calumnious reports. Per- 
 haps this is sometimes occasioned by vanity ; 
 the speakers may wish to appear conversant 
 with royal and titled persons themselves, or 
 "with those who associate with them. 
 
 But a spotless reputation is, no doubt, as 
 precious to princes and princesses, and mem- 
 bers of the aristocracy of the country, as to 
 others. It is, therefore, a remarkable instance 
 of the inconsistency of human nature, that scru- 
 pulous and conscientious persons should be- 
 lieve and propagate almost impossible slander 
 against the royal and the high born, which the 
 speakers would neither credit nor report of 
 those in their own rank of life ; nor is the in- 
 stigation of vanity, nor even a sense of gene- 
 ral competition, sufficient to account, entirely, 
 for this obliquity. Kings are worse off in this 
 respect than any of their subjects, for though 
 it is treason to devise aught against the life of 
 a king, there is no punishment, that I know of, 
 for taking away his moral character \ and as it 
 is thought particularly base and cowardly to 
 insult a clergyman, because his profession pre- 
 vents him from taking what the wortil calls 
 the satisfaction of a gentleman, it is equally so 
 to propagate reports against one whose promi- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 215 
 
 nent situation in society exposes him to par- 
 ticular remark, and who is prevented by his 
 elevated station from gaining redress for the 
 injurious defamation to which his rank makes 
 him peculiarly- liable. There is one conside- \ 
 ration, however, which may reconcile us to 
 these highly aimed shafts of detraction and 
 defamation ; — namely, the belief, that as kings, 
 princes, and nobles, are made of the same cor- 
 rupt nature as ourselves, there is little doubt 
 but that they in their turn beheve, and propa- 
 gate, evil reports of each other, and even of 
 those below them ; and that therefore, when 
 they are hardly judged and ungenerously de- 
 famed, it may often be deserved retribution. 
 
 There is one question which I feel it im- 
 perative upon me to put to my readers of every / 
 description, who beheve the commandments 
 to be of divine authority, whether they be in 
 the world or separated from it, whether they 
 be members of the church of England, or sec- 
 tarians, jew or gentile ; namely : — 
 
 How is it that you, who would shrink with 
 virtuous horror from being even supposed ca- 
 pable of violating the 6th, 7th, or bth com- 
 mandments, should have no scruple against 
 violating tlie 9th ? — 
 
 " Thou shalt not bear false witness against 
 thy neighbour." 
 
 Yet, taking up and propagating reports, the 
 truth of which we cannot prove, is a positive 
 violation of the ninth commandment, and he 
 who gave them requires the same obedience to 
 them all. Therefore, though it is certainly 
 
216 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 more diffi<!ult for many of us to keep tlie 9th, 
 than the 6th, 7th, and 8th commandments, no 
 one who has any real rehgious beUef can deny 
 that it is equally imperative on us ; and I doubt 
 not, but at the day of final and righteous retri- 
 bution, the cold-blooded malignity of the mur- 
 derers of reputations will be as awfully dealt 
 with, as the more violent passions of the ruf- 
 fian and the assassin, bv the divine justice. 
 
 I shall conclude this chapter with some ad- 
 mirable extracts on *' Lying Defamation,'^ 
 from the Government of the Tongue. 
 
 *< As in the case of stealing it is proverbial- 
 ly said, that if there were no receivers there 
 would be no thieves ; so in this of slander, if 
 there were fewer spreaders, there would be 
 fewer forgers of libels ; the manufacture would 
 be discouraged, if it had not these retailers to 
 put off the wares. Now to apply these prac- 
 tices to our rule of duty, there will need no 
 very close inspection to discern the obliquity. 
 The most superficial glance will evidence these 
 several degrees of slanderers to do what they 
 would not be willing to suffer. 
 
 " And mdeed, it is observable, that those 
 who make the greatest havoc of other men's 
 reputation, are the most nicely tender of their 
 own ; which sets this sin of calumny in a most 
 diametrical opposition to the evangelical pre- 
 cept of loving our neighbours as ourselves. 
 
 " He that shoots an arrow in jest, fnay kill 
 a man in earnest ; and he that gives himself 
 liberty to play with his neighbour's fame, may 
 soon play it away. Most men have such an 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYjErD. 217 
 
 aptness to entertain sinister opinions of others, 
 that they greedily draw in any suggestion of 
 that kind ; and one may as easily persuade the 
 thirsty earth to refund the water she has suck- 
 ed into her veins, as theni to deposit a preju- 
 dice they have once taken up. Therefore 
 such experiments upon fame are as dangerous 
 a^ that which Alexander is said to have made 
 of the force of Naphtha upon his page, from 
 which he scarce escaped with his life. 
 
 ** Since slander is a plant that can grow in 
 all soils, since the frolic humours as well as the 
 morose betray to the guilt, who can hope to 
 escape this scourge of the tongue, as the wise 
 man calls it, Eccl. 26, 6, which communicates 
 with all ? Persons of all ranks do mutually 
 asperse, and are aspersed ; so that he who 
 would not have his credulity abused has scarce 
 a securer way, than (like that astrologer, who 
 made his almanack give a tolerable account of 
 the weather by a direct inversion of the com- 
 mon pronoslicators,) to let his behef run quite 
 counter to reports." 
 
 I shall here say in recapitulation, 
 
 That temper is a great provocative to de- 
 famation, and bad feelings are often vented in 
 bitter sayings. 
 
 That defamers and murderers have feejings 
 in common ; and that anonymous and secret 
 slanderers would probably, if they dared, as- 
 sail the subjects of their calumnies with the 
 knife of the assassin. 
 
 That party spirit is one never-failing source 
 of positive defamation. 
 19 
 
218 DETRACTION DiSPLAYEp. 
 
 That though competition is the chief source 
 of detraction, and often of defamation, these 
 sometimes exist where there is no competi- 
 tion ; as persons in the middle classes of life 
 are apt to believe and propagate scandalous 
 stories of kings and princes, and all public 
 characters. 
 
 That kings are worse off in this respect than 
 their subjects, as they are prevented by their 
 high rank from obtaining redress for the ca- 
 lumnious judgments to which it exposes them ; 
 but 
 
 That, as they and other persons of high rank 
 are probably guilty of evil speaking themselves, 
 these their injuries may be only retributive jus- 
 tice. 
 
 That those who are incapable of violating 
 the 6th, 7th, and 8th commandments, make no 
 scruple to violate the 9th, yet that obedience 
 to them all is imperative on us : and I con- 
 clude this chapter with extracts from " Lying 
 Defamation." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PREVENTIVES AGAINST DETRACTION. 
 
 I HAVE now to the best of my ability illus- 
 trated the name of my work, and proved its 
 right to the title of " Detraction Displayed.'* 
 
 Now, therefore, as the medical writer, after 
 giving a detail of diSerent diseases; gives also 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 219 
 
 such prescriptions as be deems cures or pre- 
 ventives, I venture, though with much humi- 
 lity, to mention some preventives at least for 
 the diseases of detraction and defamation. 
 
 On those who are denominated men and 
 WOMEN OF THK WORLD, their religious belief, 
 however sincere, is not sufficiently operative, 
 surrounded as they are by snares of all sorts, to 
 teach them <Hhe Government of the Tongue," 
 nor to convince them that it is a sin not to 
 govern it ; and they must be candid and indul- 
 gent indeed, not to despise as righteous over- 
 much the presumptuous monitor who urges 
 upon them the necessity, as responsible bemgs, 
 of " bridhng the tongue." 
 
 Still there are motives of a worldly nature, 
 which as reasonable beings they cannot de- 
 spise. As reasonable beings they must admit, 
 that if they could be contented to resign their 
 commissions in the large army of " talkers- 
 over" and " laughers-at," they would feel that 
 they were acquiring a claim to impunity for 
 themselves. Detractors' and defamers have 
 no right to suppose that their sins against the 
 reputations of others will not be visited by si- 
 milar incursions on their own, for they who 
 wound the victims in the back, are fair objects 
 for the same mean warfare themselves. It is 
 in vain for us to assert what is said of us does 
 not signify, if we do not hear it ; for we all 
 know that some one or other, either from a 
 bad or a good motive, will take care to tell us 
 what was never intended for our ears ; there- 
 fore, the safest way, both for others and for 
 
220 BEXr.ACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 ourselves, is to endeavour to raise the tone of 
 conversation. Men and women of the world 
 can be at no loss for subjects, as they have 
 public places, as well as poetry, painting, and 
 music, to discuss, together with the lighter 
 reading of the day ; and there are politics, po- 
 lity, and science, for the discussion of the wis- 
 er sex. Therefore, nothing but a deep-rooted 
 iove of evil-speaking can lead any description 
 of persons in civilized society to make their 
 neighbours' faults and follies their chief theme ; 
 though the mere love of talking, and habit of 
 gossiping, may often be the chief source of de- 
 tracting observations.* 
 
 And I recommend to men and women of the 
 world, as a preventive for detraction, severe 
 SELF-ftXAMiNATioN. Without self-examina- 
 tion, the result of which is self-knowledge, we 
 are all hable to incur the excessive ridicule of 
 blaming in others the very sins of which we 
 are notoriously guilty ourselves. Often have 
 
 * A sensible friend of mine has assured me that she is 
 conscions of often having made a lowering remark, and 
 repeated a gossiping story, from the dread of appearing 
 dull, and that afterwards she has said to herself in a re- 
 proving spirit, why did I make that unsatisfactory obser- 
 vation ? to this suggestion, because it was hers, I have 
 given much consideration, but I still think that so deep 
 and intricate are the ramifications of motives, that even 
 on this occasion, it might have been some competition, 
 past or present, with the person or persons of whom sh^ 
 was speaking, which led her, however unconsciously, to 
 the choice, of her subject. Be that as it may, it js from in* 
 (ellectual individuals like her, self-reproved for having ut- 
 tered detraction, and conscious of its sinfulness, that I ex- 
 pect those fearless eflorts ag"ainst this darling vice, that shall 
 make even every day society, the means of individual benf- 
 iit, and universal improvemenf* 
 
I 
 
 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 221 
 
 1 heard with fearful emotion, or ill-suppressed 
 liaughter, even sensible persons of my acquaint- 
 ance congratulating themselves, that w^hatever 
 were there other failings, they had not the 
 fault which they and 1 were imputing to the 
 acquaintance of whom we were talking, which 
 fault was one of the most evident defects of 
 the person speaking! and I have said to myself, 
 how can I be sure without close self-examina- 
 tion that I am not under an equal degree of self 
 delusion, and that the fault I am reprobating 
 is not my own ! Often has this question been 
 addressed to me, " Is not Mrs. such a one, or 
 Mr. or Miss so and so very satirical ?" and I 
 have been tempted to the vulgarity of quoting 
 the old proverb, ** set a thief to catch a thief," 
 because the persons, so asking, have been 
 amongst the most satirical of my acquaintances. 
 It is an incentive to avoid detraction, that eve- 
 ry one is alive to the sin of detraction in others, 
 and equally so to the superior charm of those 
 who are free from it. 
 
 One day when I had listened with almost 
 loathing dislike to the incessant detraction of 
 certain individuals in company, I heard the 
 most lavish encomiums uttered by them on a 
 friend of theirs, for never being known to 
 utter an unkind or detractory remark ! and to 
 this uncommon merit, they attributed his be- 
 ing more courted and respected than some of 
 his relations who were his superiors in rank 
 and talent ! I could not refrain from saying to 
 them, " what a pity it is, that those who so 
 much admire his forbearance, should not en- 
 19* 
 
^22 DETRACTION DI&PLAyfiJ)^ 
 
 deavour to imitate it !"* But I have very rarC" 
 ly felt either a right or a power so to reprove. 
 It is much easier, as I have found, to fall into 
 the fault I condemn, than to endeavour to lead 
 others into better habits ; and to the universali- 
 ty of this want of moral courage, is chiefly at- 
 tributable the continued prevalence of all vices 
 in society. 
 
 How frequently do we see quarrelling and 
 fighting in the streets, and none attempting to 
 separate the combatants, because, say the sland- 
 ers by, " it is not our business, and it is diffi- 
 cult and dangerous to interfere." Therefore 
 the combatants are allowed to utter the most 
 horrid blasphemies, and sometimes put each 
 other's lives in peril, because «' it isdifficult " 
 and perhaps ** dangerous to interfere !" 
 
 It is on a principle like this that we allow 
 detraction and defamatory conversations to go 
 on in our presence. 
 
 It is " difficult to interfere," but it is by^no 
 means impossible : the difficulty would vanish 
 as soon as it was firmly met, and speakers, 
 if not silenced, would soon have the mortifica- 
 tion of feeling that they disgusted, where they 
 
 * Since T begnn this work, some persons have said to me, 
 " Well, I hope so and so will read your book, they want 
 it I am sure, and I think it may do them good ;" while the 
 speakers seemed wholly unconscious that they themselves 
 wanted the rule of admonition full as much as those whom 
 they thus detractingly mentioned-— reminding me- of the 
 lines of the Satirist, 
 
 Yes, the evil one dwells at Paris and Rome, 
 What a blessing for m that it is not at home. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 22o 
 
 hoped to amuse. Certain it is, that of all 
 knowledge, that of one's self is the most ne- 
 cessary but the most difficult of acquirement. 
 The following fable, from iEsop, corroborates 
 this mournful truth. 
 
 SELF-ADMIUATION, 
 
 JUriTER AND THE ANIMALS. 
 
 "Once on a time, the whole creation 
 
 By Jupiter were call'd before him ; 
 
 To please and serve them was his inclination, 
 
 And make his subjects more and more adore him. 
 
 "" My friends, if with your forms (he said) 
 
 You've any faults to find, or with your faces, 
 
 Tell me their wants, and from tail, leg, or head, 
 
 I'll take defects away and give new graces. 
 
 Come, my dear ape, speak thou the first ! behold 
 
 This crowd of animals, both young and old. 
 
 And then their charms with thine compare ; 
 
 Say, art thou salified ?" " Yes, I declare 
 
 I'm quite content," replied the ape ; 
 
 " I have four feet, and such a graceful shape^ 
 
 That I in pictures love to see myself; 
 
 But for my brother bear, poor half-licked elf .' 
 
 He is not fit to have his portrait painted, 
 
 As all must think who are with art acquainted ; 
 
 For all must own, poor animal, ill-starr'd, 
 
 Her is not made, or was in making marred;'''* 
 
 The bear came forward next, and all conceiv'd 
 
 Heof his ugliness would have complain'd, 
 
 But no such thing ; for, can it be believ'd, 
 
 He, by no sense of modesty restrain'd, 
 
 Prais'd, poor blind brute, his own surprising beau.ty - 
 
 Bdt, as a friend, he said, " it was his duty, 
 
 <And in his duty he would never fail,) 
 
 To say, he thought his hrother elephant 
 
 In some respects did much improvement wajit, 
 
 And that it would his ugliness decrease, 
 
 }f from his flapping ears Jove took a piece. 
 
 To add unto his tinv tail. 
 
^24 DETRACTION DISPLAYEBv 
 
 For that the elephant as yfty alas I 
 
 Was an inconj;:r«on?, shapeless, monstrouB nK\ss, * 
 
 The elephant himself now spoke ; 
 
 And all expected one so wise 
 
 Would see himself with proper eyes, 
 
 And even on his utjjliness would joke; 
 
 But he, like Bruin, lauded his own charmsv 
 
 Adding, *' His friend, the whale, 
 
 Had such a frightful appetite ; 
 
 To ^ee her eat was a disgusting sight, 
 
 And gave him really ugly qualms ; 
 
 For that to him *t was quite a dose 
 
 To see a lady animal so gross." 
 
 The ant obaerv'd-, " The mite was far too'smalf' 
 
 And by her side could not be seen at all^ 
 
 In short, both large and little creatures. 
 
 Thinking themselves the beauties of brute nature,. 
 
 To Jove's amusement, self-conceited elves .' 
 
 Each other criticised, but prais'd themselves. 
 
 **Well, well," cried Jupiier, their gracious sire^ 
 
 " I'm glad you're satisfied — you may retire." 
 
 Next came the human race, and made it plain, 
 
 That they the vainest were of all the vain ; 
 
 And Jove declar'd he ne'er was more disgusted, 
 
 Since, to judge others, they could not be trusted . 7 
 
 And thus, to mortify their pride, 
 
 Their just reprover cried, 
 
 *' O ! men and women ! partial, proud, and blind. 
 
 Harsh to your brethren, to yourselves too kind ; 
 
 You are, as is in all your judgment showuy 
 
 Lynxes io others' faults, moles to yoi.r own.'' 
 
 It may be a disputed, but I believe it to be 
 a certain fact, that few persons possess anj 
 more than the animals in the fable, an accurate 
 idea of their own faces and forms. 
 
 They knovr, perhaps, what their glasses 
 every day present to their view, though they 
 HJay not observe the changes, the resuU of ad- 
 vancing years, so evident to others ; but they 
 have no knowledge of the shape of their head 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYEI). 225 
 
 sind features in any other way than in a front 
 view* Hence, even first-rate painters are in 
 the habit of hearing, ** Well, I cannot believe 
 my nose sticks out in that manner : surely, my 
 upper lip is not so long or so thick." " Well, 
 I did not think I had so httle or so much chin, 
 or I was so ill-looking;" or "well, I dare say 
 it is quite as handsome as I am, but it is very 
 like that ugly such a one^" Now, if it be so 
 impossible for individuals to know with accu- 
 racy more than one view of their own features 
 and forms, and as most persons are satisfied to 
 remain in this ignorance, though very little 
 trouble would remove it, can one believe that 
 any of us can have an accurate knowledge of 
 the secret failings of our minds and hearts^ 
 without severe self-examination ? and if our 
 self-love, with very rare exceptions, is so 
 shocked at any personal defect forced upon 
 our view, is it not probable that we should he 
 equally shocked at having the portrait of our 
 heart and minds exhibited to us ; and should 
 we not exclaim, " Surely, that is not my be- 
 setting sin ; I may err in that way but not in 
 this ;" disputing the correctness and fidelity of 
 the mental picture, resolving to turn away 
 from what self-love and human pride cannot 
 bear to contemplate. 
 
 Therefore, is not severe self-examination 
 necessary to make us sure we are not exposing 
 ourselves to the ridicule mentioned above, of 
 censuring others for the very faults which we 
 ourselves commit, and the only means of es- 
 caping those detracting laughs which we are 
 
220 DETRACTION mSPLATEP. 
 
 apt to raise against others. Is not self-examip- 
 nation necessary to show us the ughness of our 
 own hearts, the face of which, considering n)o<- 
 tives as the features, we shall see deformed 
 with envy, resentment, and uncharitable sus- 
 picions ; and having thus learnt to see ourselves 
 as we are, would not self-examination lead us 
 to study the hearts of others, and to consider 
 "whether, as mere beings of thu world, it would 
 not be more politic, and add greatly to our ad^- 
 vantage here, to try to purify our own mo^ 
 tives, to cleanse our own conversation, and 
 rectify our own views of our associates, in or- 
 der to invite theni to judge us with our awn 
 liberality ? 
 
 I take it for granted that no one likes to be 
 laughed at ; " then let us take care not to 
 laugh at others ;" for as there is said to be 
 *' honour amongst thieves," so there may be 
 an understood compact even amongst detrac- 
 tors, that to those who show indulgence to 
 others, indulgence shall be shown ; therefore, 
 they who have sufficient self-control to abstain 
 from satire, even where satire is the general 
 theme, will, in the end, be so much respected, 
 that they may cease to be the objects of satire 
 themselves, and if their example does not al- 
 lure, it may at least, where they are conceri> 
 ed, silence and disarm, 
 
 Defamers, as I have before said, are permil- 
 ed to shed their poison with impunity, be- 
 cause no one likes to inform against them, and 
 expose them to the penalties of the law ; but 
 even they, as far as merely worldly advanta- 
 
I^ETHACTIO.V DISPLAYED* 227 
 
 ges are concerned, would be gaiijers by sup- 
 pressing the malignity of their accusations. 
 For what is the appalling observation made on 
 notorious defamers ? ** Oh ! never mind what 
 tiiey say, their authority is worth nothing, 
 their tongue is no scandal." Horrible state 
 of degradation ! to be known as such lying de- 
 tamers, (for habitual falsehood is implied,) that 
 tbey cannot even do the mischief they desire 
 to do, but are rendered impotent as well as in*, 
 famous! Social debasement can scarcely go 
 beyond it ! and even the crime with which the 
 defamer charges his victim may possibly not 
 degrade them more than such an observation 
 degrades the utterer. Existence on such terms 
 is little better than annihilation ; with such a 
 character as this, life is scarcely worthy hav- 
 ing ! If these obnoxious persons be wealthy 
 and hospitable, they may continue to be asso- 
 ciated with, for the sake of their good cheer ; 
 but the entertained visit their entertainer at 
 the risk of deadly wounds to their fame from 
 his tongue, as soon as they have quitted the 
 room, while the prudent and independent feel, 
 that their only security is keeping as much as 
 possible out of their way. But, if defamers are 
 not opulent, and if they are desirous of obtain- 
 ing promotion and advancement through the 
 medium of friends, it is impossible that with 
 such habits they can long have a friend to as* 
 sist them. Those who are known to sacrifice, 
 at any time, even the good name of patron or 
 relative, to the temptation of making no amuse- 
 ing story, must expect to bo s?icrifiood in their 
 
^8 DETRACT10J!i DISPLAYED, 
 
 turn to the interests of more respectable claim- 
 ants ; for few individuals are so little under the 
 salutary fear of the world, as to set its cen- 
 sure at defiance, and give good gifts to those 
 who are notorious for inflicting injuries on 
 others, and are known by the name of unprin- 
 cipled defamers. Therefore, even in a mere 
 worldly view, it is clear that it is the interest 
 of us all ta abstain from defamation and detrac- 
 tion. 
 
 Let me here insert, to confirm my belief 
 that worldly policy recommends the defamers 
 to alter his ways and bridle his tongue, the fol- 
 lowing admirable observations : " We have 
 viewed both these branches of detraction, seen 
 both the sins and the mischief of them, we may 
 now join together in a concluding observation, 
 wliich is, that they are as imprudent as they 
 are unchristian. It has been received amongst 
 the maxims of civil life, not unnecessarily to 
 exasperate any body, to which agrees the ad~ 
 vice of an ancient philospher, '* Speak not evil 
 of thy neighbour, if thou dost thou shalt hear 
 that which will not fail to trouble thee." There 
 fs no person so inconsiderable but may at some 
 time or other do a displeasure, but in this of 
 defaming, men need no harnessing, no prcpa- 
 lution ; every man has his weapons ready for 
 a return, so that none can shoot these arrows, 
 but they must expect they will revert with a 
 rebounded force, not only to the violation of 
 christian unity (as I have before observed,) 
 but to the aggressors' great secular detriment, 
 both in fame and interest also. Revenge is 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 229 
 
 sharp-sighted, and overlooks no opportunity 
 of a retaliation ; and that commonly not bound- 
 ed, as the Levitical ones were, ' an eye for an 
 eye, a looth for a tooth,' no, nor by the larger 
 proportions of their restitutions foretold, but 
 extended to the utmost power of the inflictor. 
 The examples are innumerable of men who 
 have thus laid themselves open in their con- 
 cerns, and have let loose the tongue of others 
 against them merely because they would put 
 no restraint upon their own, which is so great 
 indiscretion, that to them we may apply that 
 of Solomon, * A fooPs mouth is his destruction, 
 and his lips are the snare of his soul.' And 
 now, who can sufficiently wonder that a prac- 
 tice that so thwarts our interest in both worlds, 
 should come universally to prevail among us 't 
 Yet that it does so, I may appeal to the consci* 
 ences of most, and to the observation of us all* 
 What so common topic of discourse is there as 
 this of backbiting our neighbours ? Come into 
 company of all ages, all ranks, all professions, 
 this is the constant entertainment ; and I doubt 
 he that at night shall duly recollect the occur- 
 rences of the day, shall very rarely be able to 
 say he has spent it without hearing or speak- 
 ing (perhaps both) somewhat of this kind. 
 Nay, even those who restrain themselves from 
 other liberties are often apt to fndulge in this. 
 Many who arc so just to their neighbour's pro- 
 perty, that, as Abraham onCe said, Gen. xiv. 
 23, *' They would not take froni him even 
 from a thread to a shoe latchet,- ' are yet so irt- 
 ^considerate of his fame as to find Ihemseivej? 
 20 
 
230 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 discourse at the expense of that, though in^- 
 nitely a greater injury than the robbing of his 
 coffer. 
 
 By way of recapitulating this chapter I 
 would remind the reader. 
 
 That having proved the right of my work 
 to the title of *' Detraction Displayed," I have 
 ventured to give some preventives for the dis- 
 eases of detraction and defamation. 
 
 That their religious belief, however sincere, 
 is not sufficiently operative on men and wo- 
 men of the world to teach them the govern- 
 ment of the tongue, but that there are motives 
 of worldly policy sufficient to teach them the 
 necessity of it. 
 
 That by ceasing to be talkers-over and laugh- 
 ers-at, they would be acquiring a claim to im- 
 punity for themselves. 
 
 That men and women of the world have so 
 many amusing subjects to talk upon, that they 
 have no excuse for indulging in evil-speaking. 
 
 That I recommend sklf-examijsation as a 
 preventive against the risk of incurring ridi- 
 cule for censuring in others the faults which we 
 ourselves commit. 
 
 That even detractors and defamers are alive 
 to the superior charm of those who never ut- 
 ter an unkind remark, and are ready to admire 
 and praise them. 
 
 That as fighting in the streets is allowed to 
 continue because by-standers feel it^ifficult, 
 and perhaps dangerous to interfere, so from 
 the same want of moral courage, we let detract- 
 ors and defamers pursue their evil-speaking in 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYtP* 231 
 
 xiur presence ; yet that the difficulty of reprov- 
 ing would soon vanish if firmly met. 
 
 That a knowledge of self is the most difficult 
 of all knowledge, and I give a fable to illustrate 
 this position. 
 
 That defamers are permitted to shed their 
 poison with impunity, because no one likes 
 to expose them to the punishments of the law. 
 
 That defamers even would be gainers, in a 
 worldly point of view, by learning to suppress 
 their malignant accusations ; for that they run 
 the risk of being shunned at length on account 
 of the terror and aversion excited by their cha- 
 racter for defamation, and that if they require 
 assistance and promotion, even their best 
 friends must shrink from the obloquy of be- 
 stowing it upon themj and I conclude with a 
 confirmatory quotation. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ADDRESS TO RELIGIOUS PROFESSORS, 
 
 I NOW address that class in society, which 
 professes to be guided and restrained by mo- 
 tives and views of the very highest kind, 
 namely, the constant presence of ri^^ligious 
 INFLUENCES ; and if they be enabled to act up 
 to this high profession, they do not require to 
 be warned against the sin of detraction and the 
 ^ crime of defamation. But even religious pro- 
 lessors are not secure from the temptatioqs of 
 
232 DETRACTION DISPLAVE1>.- 
 
 the soul'S adversary : their only advantage is, 
 that they have stronger weapons at hand with 
 which to oppose him. They know that evil- 
 speaking is every where forbidden in that 
 book, by which they profess to regulate their 
 lives ; but then, they also know, that " when 
 they would do good, evil is present with 
 them," and that unless they watch and pray 
 they must fall into temptation like other peo- 
 ple. But the universality of the sin of de- 
 traction, if not of defamation, in all circles, 
 tends to veil its enormity from the view ; and 
 though we are told that " we should not follow 
 a multitude to do evil," we do follow them, 
 and it is difficult to forbear, even though we 
 could repeat text upon text against the sin we 
 are committing. Indeed, were I to give all 
 the texts in scripture which forbid evil-speak- 
 ing, they are so many and various, that these 
 pages would look like a concordance ; but I 
 shall only mention here the 5th and 7th chap- 
 ters of Matthew, and quote only as follows, 
 from the 13th chapter of Corinthians : " And 
 ihoughy^ says the apostle, " / bestow all my 
 goods to feed the poor, and though I give my 
 bodij to he burned, and have not charity, it 
 projlteth me nothing.''^ How evident it is 
 that though the passage which I have given in 
 Italics is often used as a text to a charity ser- 
 mon, charity here does not mean giving alms, 
 but christian love ; that is, kindly feeling to- 
 wards one another ; the love or charity which 
 ^^ thinkeih no evil," ** which sufTereth long 
 and is kind ;" what, therefore, can be more op- 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 233 
 
 posite to the precepts of the apostle, than back- 
 biting and speaking ill of our fellow-creatures ? 
 Yet it is much easier to clothe the naked, to 
 feed the hungry, to visjt the sick, to exhort 
 the sinful, to deny ourselves in order to give 
 to others, and to pray with the dying and the 
 sorrowful, than to forbear from uttering one 
 harsh judgment, to suppress one backbiting, 
 angry, and injurious word, and to curb the 
 ungenerous impulse of a suspicious spirit. And 
 no wonder ; for those who perform the chris- 
 tian duties, which I have enumerated above, 
 have not only the approbation of their own 
 consciences, and the sweet hope that their good 
 works have been acceptable obedience to their 
 Saviour's precepts, — but, however careful 
 they may be not to let " their left hand know 
 what their right hand doeth," they have also 
 the respect and praise of men to excite them 
 to persevere in their course of duty, and even 
 here the actively benevolent have their reward. 
 Therefore I maintain, that to '' do good and to 
 communicate," and give, whether it be of our 
 time, of our savings, or our riches, to the wants 
 of others, is by no means the most difficult of 
 tasks. But the conquest of our bad passions, . 
 our conflicts with our envious and resentful 
 feelings, our struggles against the utterance of 
 a degrading suspicion and a detracting word, 
 and our endeavour to fulfil the command, " to 
 think charitably of all men," all these take 
 place in the secret of the heart, and are only- 
 known to that Being " from whom no secrets 
 are hidden ;" therefore, we have no external 
 20* 
 
234 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 aid to make us victors in the combat. If we 
 resist these temptations to evil, no one will 
 give us credit for the forbearance ; and if we 
 yield to them, we shall, probably, not be 
 thought the worse of, since we know we shall 
 not sin alone. No wonder, therefore, that 
 sometimes religious professors are known to 
 be guilty of this sin of detraction ; and it is 
 doubly painful to hear those who fulfil to the 
 utmost the other christian duties, indulge a 
 gossiping, uncharitable, and calumnious dis- 
 position, imputing unworthy motives to the 
 absent and the unconscious, in seeming defi- 
 ance of the precepts of the blessed Saviour, and 
 of his inspired followers. But when serious 
 christians are guilty of detraction, it cannot 
 be, I trust, without a subsequent and deep con- 
 viction of their own sinfulness. They have 
 the precious consciousness that they are sin- 
 ners, and that they are liable to fall ; they also 
 know that they have a sure defence, in their 
 moments of trial, ** in watchfulness unto pray- 
 jer ;" and if there be any of these strongly 
 tempted, consciously erring christians, among 
 my readers, endangered souls who know from 
 painful experience, that *' tlie tongue is an un- 
 ruly member," and that detraction is one of 
 their besetting temptations ; let them recollect, 
 that alms-giving and the kindest offices of 
 christian duty, without christian love, can 
 ** profit them nothing," and at the close of a 
 day of active benevolence, if they feel con- 
 scious that though their hand gave, their 
 tot}gue maligned^ let them not claim for thejr 
 
I 
 
 PKTRACTION DISPLAYED. 235 
 
 pillow, that night, the peaceful repose of the 
 consistent christian ; but, warned by the con- 
 sciousness of duty imperfectly performed, hum- 
 ble themselves before the Being who has said, 
 ** judge not," and let them remember and pro- 
 fit by the awful admonition, " Let those who 
 think they stand take heed lest they fall." 
 
 I would also remind them of the declaration 
 of the apostle James : *' If any man among you 
 seem to be religious, and bridleth not his 
 tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man's 
 religion is vain." 
 
 Let me now recapitulate by observing, 
 
 That that class of persons in society who 
 profess to be under religious influences, would 
 n^t wsnt to be warned against the sin of de- 
 traction, and the crime of defamation, were 
 not they, like other persons, exposed to the 
 assaults of the soul's adversary, and that their 
 only advantage lies in having stronger weapons 
 with which to oppose him. 
 
 That they, like others, must watch and pray, 
 lest they fall into temptation. 
 
 That the charity enjoined by the apostle 
 Paul is christian love, not alms-giving. 
 
 That it is easier to perform all the other du- 
 ties of christians, than to suppress one severe 
 remark, one backbiting, injurious word. 
 
 That the world's good report attends and 
 repays deeds of active benevolence; but that 
 our conflicts with our jealous feelings and de- 
 famatory propensities are hidden in the secret 
 of our hearts, and we have not the aid of ex- 
 i ternal praise to assist us to conquer them. 
 
236 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 And lastly, that they must remember, in or- 
 der to strengthen them in their struggles, the 
 words of the apostle James, chapter 1st, verse 
 26th. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ADDRESS? TO THE YOUNGER MEMBERS OF THE 
 SOCIETY OP FRIENDS. 
 
 PeRMfT me now, my dear brothers and sis- 
 ters, members of the society to which I have 
 the privilege of belonging, to address you on 
 this subject, as Friends have always deeply 
 felt, and duly considered its importance, and 
 have also by their. wise regulations endeavour- 
 ed to guard against the sin of which it treats. 
 In us, therefore, who are defended against this 
 sin by official warnings, and reminded of its 
 ensnaring power, by the following query read 
 at stated times in our meetings of discipline, 
 — " Are friends preserved in love towards 
 each other ; and are they careful to avoid and 
 discourage tale-bearing and detraction ?' in us 
 I say, detraction is less excusable than in any 
 others. But it may be right for me to add, 
 lest this query be misunderstood by some of 
 my readers, that it does not mean we are to 
 cultivate a christian spirit towards the mem- 
 bers of our society alone. 
 
 We know that the feelings of gospel love 
 are of a more diffusive nature, that we are to 
 desire the welfare of the whole family of man- 
 
kind, and to endeavour to promote it to our 
 best ability ; and though according to the apos- 
 tle's words, " we may be willing more espe- 
 cially to do good to those who are of the 
 household of faith," still we are expected to 
 perform the offices of christian duty to all who 
 require them of us, be they Jew or Gentile, 
 and the warning against tale-bearing and de- 
 traction is of universal not particular applica- 
 tion. 
 
 Seeing then, that the wisdom of our pious 
 ancestors has thus afforded us an earthly guard 
 against this ensnaring sin, ** What manner of 
 persons ought we to be in all holy conversa- 
 tion and godliness ?" 
 
 "Ye therefore beloved, seeing ye know 
 these things before, beware lest ye also, being 
 led away with the error of the wicked, fall 
 from your own steadfastness." 
 
 But I would more particularly call on you^ 
 ray dear younger brethren and sisters, to re- 
 member the obligation of watchfulness which 
 this query imposes upon you, as you are a par- 
 ty to the answer given ; and if your consciences 
 accuse you of having acted or spoken contrary 
 to that duty which it inculcates, you must be 
 well aware that you are also a party to an im- 
 position, and a falsehood, unless the answer to 
 the query be guarded in an almost impossible 
 degree. 
 
 My observation tells me that the young, 
 whatever be their belief or situation, are al- 
 ways more or less inclined to satire. 
 
 The young feel deeply, and think superfi- 
 
238 DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 
 
 cially ; with them appearances are almost every 
 thing. To the ridiculous in persons and things 
 they are peculiarly alive ; foibles they perceive 
 immediately ; and as they have not yet learnt 
 to feel their own infirmities, they have no 
 mercy on those of others ! indulgence, owing 
 to their want of self-knowledge, never being 
 the character of youth ; — hence, hasty and un- 
 candid judgment, and a love of finding out the 
 absurd, attended often with great power of ri- 
 dicule, make the young of both sexes apt to in- 
 dulge in satire and detraction. Vanity also 
 ] comes into play. They fancy that severity 
 \ looks like wit and intellectual superiority ; and 
 I have sometimes, with no inconsiderable mo- 
 ral disgust, heard parents repeat the pert satiri- 
 cal sayings of their children, as evidences, in 
 their opinion, no doubt, of precosity and bright- 
 ness of intellect. 
 
 With this conviction on my mind of the dis- 
 advantages as well as advantages belonging to 
 the brilliant season of youth, 1 have often con- 
 templated with admiration, amongst many 
 other of the benefits peculiar to our society, 
 this query relative to tale -bearing and detrac- 
 tion. 
 / Detraction is so universal that one forgets it 
 / is a sin, or we are reconciled to commit it, be- 
 f cause we have so many to keep us in counte- 
 nance. " As in some instances," says the au- 
 thor of the Government of the Tongue, " de- 
 traction is one of the highest sins, so in the ge- 
 neral, it is certainly one of the most common ; 
 and by being so becomes insensible. This 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 239 
 
 vice above all others seems to have maintain- 
 ed not only its empire but its reputation too. 
 Men are not yet convinced heartily that it is a 
 sin, or if any, not of so deep a dye, or so wide 
 an extent, as it really is. They have, if not 
 false, yet imperfect notions of it, and by not 
 knowing how far its circle reaches, do often, 
 like young conjurors, step beyond the limits 
 of their safety. This I am the apter to believe, 
 because I see some degree of fault cleave to 
 those who have eminently corrected all other 
 exorbitances of the tongue. Many who would 
 startle at an oath, do yet glide glibly into a de- 
 traction, which yet, methinks, persons other- 
 wise of strict conversation should not do fre- 
 quently and habitually, had not their easy 
 thoughts of the guilt smoothed the way to it. 
 It may therefore be no unkind attempt to try 
 to disentangle from this snare by displaying 
 it, showing the whole contexture of the sin, 
 how it is wowen with threads of different sizes, 
 yet the least of them strong enough to noose 
 and entrap us : and alas ! if Satan fetters us, it is 
 indifferent to him whether it be by a cable or 
 a hair. " Nay, perhaps, the smallest sins are 
 his greatest stratagems. It was a good reply 
 of Plato's to one who murmured at his reprov- 
 ing him for a small matter : *^ custom," says 
 he, " is no small matter," and indeed, suppos- 
 ing any sin were so small as we are willing to 
 fancy most, yet an indulgent habit even of that 
 would be certainly ruinous, that indulgence 
 being perfectly opposite to the love of God, 
 which better can consist with indeliberate com* 
 
240 DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 missions of many sins, than with an allowed 
 persistance in any one. But in this matter of 
 detraction I cannot yield that any is small ; 
 save comparatively with some kind that is 
 greater, for absolutely considered, there is 
 even in the very lowest degrees of it a Bat con- 
 tradiction to the grand rule of charity, the lov- 
 ing our neighbours as ourselves." 
 
 If this be true, my dear young friends, — if 
 detraction, by being so common a sin, " be- 
 comes an insensible one also," and if men are 
 not convinced heartily that it is a sin, how 
 thankful we ought to be for being reminded 
 so frequently that it is sinful, and for being 
 guarded against it in a manner so impressive 
 and sufficient, that though the rest of the world 
 should be imperceptibly entangled in this snare, 
 " woven with threads of different sizes, the 
 least of them strong enough to noose and en- 
 trap them," we must be without excuse for 
 letting ourselves be so entrapped ; and if we 
 have, in a moment of unguardedness allowed 
 the snare to envelope us, it is our own fault, if 
 we be not roused by the voice of the stated 
 watchman to exert ourselves, and break the 
 fetters ere they have had time to fasten on us. 
 
 Believe me, my beloved younger brothers and 
 sisters, that those only who have been born and 
 bred in different circumstances to yourselves, 
 can properly appreciate the advantages attend- 
 ant on your religious society ; and that you can- 
 not be sufficiently aware of them ; for there arc 
 many things of whose value, like that of health, 
 y^Q are unconscious, because vpq have alvrovis 
 
DETRACTION DISTLAYEl). 241 
 
 possessed them. For instance, who but must 
 be struck, on reading accounts of missionary 
 labours, at the enthusiastic dehght experienc- 
 ed by the converted heathen, when the bible 
 is given them, and they are enabled to peruse 
 its contents ? We, to whom it has been familiar, 
 even from childhood, cannot experience the 
 same freshness of delight, while perusing the 
 sacred volume, as these grateful converts feel. 
 In like manner you, by whom the privileges 
 of your sect have been experienced even from 
 the first hour of perception, cannot be suffi- 
 ciently conscious how much safety and bene- 
 fit you have derived from them in youth, of 
 which you will continue to feel the good ef- 
 fects in your rnaturer years, and in your life's 
 decline. And though some of you may in the 
 season of youth desire for yourselves more li- 
 berty, and more accordance with the habits of 
 the world at large, you will, when you are pa- 
 rents, (with very few exceptions at least,) de- 
 sire for your children the same restraints which 
 you are feeling now ; you will remember with 
 thankfulness, that if they pained they pre- 
 served, that if they imposed on you tempora* 
 ry privations, they saved you from many evils 
 and certain dangers, and you will endeavour 
 to persuade those nearest and dearest to you, 
 to profit by the lessons of your experience, and 
 say to them in the words of sacred writ, " This 
 is the way ; walk ye in it !" But, to return to 
 my original subject, the benefit which we de- 
 rive, or ought to derive, from this query : ** Are 
 Friends preserved in love towards each other. 
 21 
 
242 DETRACTION DISPLAYED^ 
 
 and are they careful to avoid and discourage tale-, 
 bearing and detraction ]" Indeed, dear friends, 
 in order to avoid them, we, like others, have 
 much to do, and it is right that we should make 
 use of every weapon against the spirit of detrac- 
 tion, which He, who can alone make our ef- 
 forts successful, has in his mercy bestowed. 
 
 Let us then endeavour to consider them to- 
 gether, and SELF-EXAMiNATioN again presents 
 itself on the list. 
 
 Let US examine our own motives and actions 
 before we speak defamingly or detractingly of 
 those of others. Let us consider their tempta- 
 tions, their disadvantages, of every sort, and 
 then reflect whether we are ourselves free 
 from the faults which we condemn, and whe- 
 ther, in their circumstances, we should have 
 acted better. We must ask of our own hearts, 
 how we should like to be dealt with ourselves, 
 and whether we should not require to have 
 any calumnious tale against us strictly inquired 
 into, not only before it is^believed, liut before 
 it is repeated ; and if we make all the use of 
 self-examination of which it is capable, it will 
 show us that the time which, with gratuitous 
 officiousness, we were disposed to bestow in 
 commenting on others' failings, would be far 
 better employed in endeavours to amend our 
 own ; for even to the young " the night Com- 
 eth in which no man can work ;" and as the 
 habits of youth are yet to form, and if formed, 
 must be easy to eradicate, youth is the best 
 season for self-examination. — Oh ! then, ye 
 young, *' seta watchman, and let him declare 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 243 
 
 what he seeth," and be that watchman sllf- 
 EXAMiNATioN, and when the watchman says, 
 ** the morning cometh, and also the night, if 
 ye will inquire, inquire ye," let the inquiry 
 be into your own defects, not into those of 
 your neighbours, considering not the *' mote 
 that is in your brother's eye, but the beam that 
 is in your own." 
 
 Another most efficient safe-guard against the 
 snares of detraction is cultivation of the 
 MIND. Those who have full minds need not 
 talk of persons to beguile the time, because 
 they have topics of a much higher kind, and 
 of equal interest to discuss ; and a degree of 
 mental cultivation is within the power of every 
 one. The tradesman, the artificer, the me- 
 chanic, in short, all persons who can read, and 
 who are resolved to lose no time, can, if they 
 will, acquire some information even at what 
 appears allowable rvaste moments. A friend 
 of mine who was almost the only person I 
 ever knew that was a punctual correspondent, 
 acquired this reputable distinction, by the sim- 
 ple habit of never being idle ; and whenever 
 she was kept waiting by a friend, or a coach- 
 man, instead of fretting and going to the win- 
 dow, and walking up and down the room, 
 losing her time as well as her patience, she 
 used to sit down and write letters, by which 
 means a very extensive correspondence never 
 interfered with her other duties, as the time 
 devoted to it was literally what is usually con- 
 sidered W'iste time. This highly gifted in- 
 dividual wisely considered the importance of 
 
244 DETUACTIO>f DISPLAVED. 
 
 moments. That excellent old proverb, *' lake 
 oare of the pence, and the pounds will take 
 care of themselves," meaning that those who 
 do not spend pence wantonly, will always be 
 sure to have pounds, and that those who waste 
 pence will never have pounds to waste, may 
 be applied to the proper use of moments ; con- 
 sidering moments as the pence of time, and 
 honi^s as its pounds : for those who take care 
 of their moments w ill find them soon amount 
 to well-stored hours, while they who waste 
 moments will never find their hours long 
 enough for thoir improvement ; and let me as- 
 sure even the most hardly-worked of those 
 who may read these pages, that when their 
 day's labour is over, they would derive more 
 refreshment from taking up a book of history, 
 morals, poetry, or science, something to think 
 or converse about, than from lounging away 
 their waste or leisure moments, in gossiping, 
 and what they call a little relaxation ; and, on 
 the same principle which led my friend to 
 write letters, that no time might be lost, I 
 would advise both sexes to turn their leisure 
 moments to account by perusing some instruc- 
 tive pages, which may lead to instructive con- 
 versation, and preclude not only the necessity, 
 but the wish for the excitement of gossip, tale- 
 bearing, and detraction. 
 
 Thinking before we speak would prove a 
 remedy for detracting tendencies, by enabling 
 us to put this query to our own hearts, " Should 
 I like to have what I am disposed to say in 
 depreciation of such and such persons repeated 
 
DETRACT10i\ DISPLAYED. 245 
 
 to them?" and if it answers, " No!'' then it is 
 obvious that the remark should not be made ; 
 this, therefore, may be laid down as a rule for 
 our guide, whenever we are tempted to indulge 
 in the sin of detraction. 
 
 But if we can with truth assert that what we 
 were going to say, th(*ugh it be in blame, we 
 are willing to say in the presence of the in- 
 dividuals blamed, still it would be better to 
 say it to those individuals themselves, and not 
 at all in their absence, because it would be kind 
 to make it to tfiem, but positively wnkind to 
 point it out to others. Serious reflection 
 would also lead to this consideration, the time 
 is at best but short that we can spend with 
 each other in this transitory state of existence ; 
 would it not be right, therefore, to endeavour 
 to engage in profitable discourse 1 If gay con- 
 versation be desired by the company present, 
 it is possible to be innocent and gay, as well 
 as " merry and wise," for it is not necessary 
 that our mirth should be derived from ridicul- 
 ing the defects of our acquaintance. How 
 checked would this propensity to satirical 
 mirth be, even in the most thoughtless, if they 
 were to fancy to themselves the objects of their 
 ridicule listening or looking in at the windows ! 
 and how many a satirical speech would thus be 
 suppressed, how many a scandalous tale would 
 be prevented, and how incalculably great 
 would be the benefits derived to our daily and 
 social intercourse. ** Think before you speak," 
 is another rule which, if acted upon, would 
 prevent much evil-speaking ; for it is often 
 21* 
 
54G DETKACTION DISPLAYED. 
 
 said, and perhaps justly, that many persons sa- 
 tirize, and even cahimniate their fellow- crea- 
 tures, from mere thoughtlessness, and without 
 any intention to do harm. If this be true, 
 great indeed would be the advantage of thinks 
 171 g before we speak, 
 
 *' Do UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD THAT 
 
 OTHERS SHOULD DO UMTO YOU," is a maxim 
 which I recommend to the attention of us all. 
 When Lewis the fourteenth asked the Marc^- 
 chal Turenne what he required to enable him 
 to carry on a successful war, he replied, *' Mo- 
 ney ;" " What next?' *' Money," <« And what 
 next?" '* Money ;" meaning that money was 
 all that was necessary for the purpose : and in 
 like manner, I believe, that were this sacred 
 maxim acted upon, it would be sufficient to 
 prevent any indulgence in detraction or defa- 
 mation. 
 
 But it may seem impossible to some, to bring 
 restraining motives quickly enough to bear on 
 arising temptations : self-examination, serious 
 reflection, and remembered texts are, say they, 
 " things too ponderous to be easily moved, 
 and used on every sudden occasion," but the 
 power of thought is swift as lightning. It is 
 not of so much importance to us, whether 
 *' ideas are presented to the mind synchron- 
 ously, or whether the one succeeds to the 
 other without any perceptible interval of 
 lime," but certain it is, that ideas pass through 
 the mind with surprising velocity, so much so. 
 that as the primitive colours, when painted on 
 a card, will, if the card be rapidly turned round, 
 
DETRACTION DISPLrVYED. 24T 
 
 lose every distinct hue, and become to the eye 
 one white whole, so ideas, however numerous 
 and however important, are capable of rapidly 
 forming themselves into one thought or reflec- 
 tion, and of possessing, however suddenly 
 required, an impelling or restraining power. 
 Therefore let no one be discouraged from at- 
 tempting to bring the best and weightiost mo- 
 tives into action in seasons of temptation, from 
 a belief of not being able to summon them 
 quick enough. Like the slaves of the lamp, 
 in the Arabian tale, summon them, however 
 slightly, and they will instantly appear, ready 
 to do your work, if you are but willing that 
 work should be done. And who is there 
 amongst us that knows not, at times, the effi- 
 cacy of deep and sudden prayer ? There arc 
 other recollections and other motives, which, 
 to the serious amongst you, must already be 
 often present, and I trust efficacious. And 
 these are the convictions that evil speaking in 
 all its branches is contrary to the revealed will, 
 both in the old and New Testament. ** Thou 
 shalt not go up and down as a Tale-bearer,'* 
 saith the Lord by the mouth of his servant 
 Moses ; and the Psalmist says, " Lord, who^ 
 shall abide in thy tabernacle, who shall dwell 
 in thy holy hill V " He that backbiteth not 
 with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neigh- 
 bour, or taketh up a reproach against his 
 neighbour." But no doubt you are all of you 
 too well acquainted with scripture, to make 
 many quotations on this subject necessary here ; 
 I shall therefore content myself with the in- 
 
£4S DETJIACTION DISPfeAYEOV 
 
 dulg( nce of repeating the all-sufficient injunc- 
 tions of " Him who spoke as never man 
 spoke.*' " Blessed are the merciful, for they 
 shall obtain mercy. Judge not, and ye shall not 
 be judged, condemn not, and ye shall not be 
 condemned. Watch and pray lest ye enter 
 into temptation, and what I say unto you (says 
 the blessed Lord; I say unto all, watch." 
 
 In recapitulation I must now observe, that 
 as the wisdom of our ancestors has guarded 
 us against the besetting sin of Detraction, 
 Friends have less excuse than most others, if 
 they fall into it. 
 
 That I call on my younger brethren and 
 sisters, more particularly, to remember the 
 obligation to watchfulness, which this query 
 imposes, — as they^also are a party to the an- 
 swer. 
 
 That my observation tells me, all young per- 
 sons, whatever be their situation or religious 
 creed, are more or less given to satire. 
 
 That being conscious of the natural tenden- 
 cy of youth to detraction, I hav« contemplated 
 with admiration amongst the other benefits 
 peculiar to our society, the query relative to 
 tale-bearer and detraction. 
 
 That detraction is the more ensnaring, be- 
 cause it is so common one forgets it is a sin. 
 
 That we ought to be very thankful, there- 
 fore, for the query in question. 
 
 That those only who have been born and 
 bred in different circumstances to friends, can 
 sufficiently appreciate the advantages and pri- 
 vileges of our religious society. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 249* 
 
 That Friends, bom in tlie society, cannot 
 feel the pecular advantages, of which they 
 have felt, and will continue to feel, the good 
 consequences, to the end of life. 
 
 That when they are parents, I believe they 
 will desire for their children the same restraints 
 which they are now feeling, remembering that 
 though they pained, they preserved. 
 
 That whatever be the power of the second 
 query, we, like others, have, in order to bo 
 able to act up to it, much to do, and much to 
 leave undone. 
 
 That SELF-EXAMINATION, by leading us to 
 think before we speak, would lead to the query : 
 *' How should I like what I am now disposed 
 to say, to be repeated to the person of whom 
 I speak V^ and if the responding heart says 
 " no," then it is clear the detracting remark 
 should not be made. 
 
 That if willing to make the remark in the 
 presence of the individuals blamed, it would 
 be better not to say it at all in their absence. 
 
 That satirical mirth would always be check- 
 ed, could we fancy the objects of it listening 
 or looking in at the window. 
 
 That it may seem impossible to bring re- 
 straining motives quickly enough to bear on 
 the arising temptation, but that thought is as 
 swift as lightning, and will come in a moment, 
 and who is there amongst us that has not 
 known at times the efficacy of deep though 
 sudden prayer ? , 
 
 That there are prohibitions in scripture suf- 
 ficient to prevent detraction, if properly attend- 
 
250 DETRACTION DISPLAYED* 
 
 ed to; and lastly, I recommend to my younger 
 brethren and sisters, to remember the words of 
 the blessed Saviour, ** What I say unto you, I 
 say unto all, watch !" 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Now, full of anxious solicitude and discou- 
 ragement, I write my concluding pages with 
 humble but heartfelt earnestness, pressing once 
 more on the attention of my readers the fol- 
 lowing list of preventives or remedies for de- 
 traction. 
 
 Self-examination, 
 
 Thinking before we speak, 
 ' The maxim, " do unto othets as you 
 
 WOULD that others SHOULD DO UNTO YOU," 
 And CULTIVATION OF THE MIND, Or KNOW- 
 
 LFDGE, which Solomon desires us to receive 
 " rather than choice gold." 
 
 Self-examination, or in other words, the 
 self-knowledge which is its result, would, even 
 in a worldly point of view, be otir best policy, 
 because by giving us a thorough knowledge of 
 ourselves, it would prevent us from incurring 
 ridicule, by censuring in others the faults which 
 we ourselves commit ; and conviction of our 
 own frailties, by teaching us indulgence to 
 those of others, might forbid us to give way 
 to detraction. 
 
DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 251 
 
 Thinking before we speak would lead us 
 to put this precautionary question to our- 
 selves. — " Should I like to have what I am 
 about to say, repeated to the subject of it ?' 
 and if the answer is in the negative, we must 
 know that by persisting to say it, we should (all 
 into the sin of detraction. The maxim of " Do 
 unto others as you would have others do unto 
 you," if it were couvstantly uppermost in our 
 minds, and considered as it ought to be, a sure 
 guide for all our actions, must entirely, and for 
 ever, preserve us from the sin of detraction, 
 and the crime of defamation. 
 
 And cuj.TivATioN OF THE MIND, by enabling 
 those who meet m social intercourse to talk of 
 things in preference to persons, would prevent 
 the treacherous indulgence of backbiting and 
 detraction. 
 
 These preventives, or remedies, as I have 
 ventured to call them, are not the suggestions 
 of an Empiric, for they are to be found in the 
 
 BOOK of" the GREAT PHYSICIAN." 
 
 They are ^ew^ and simple also. 
 
 It requires no learning or science to under- 
 stand them ; nay, such is their virtue, that they 
 cannot be injured even by the weakness of 
 the person who prepares them, for their origin 
 is not human, but divine, and they are stamp- 
 ed with the sacred and inimitable seal of 
 
 TRUTH and REVELATION, 
 
 THE END. 
 
VA 0P973 
 
 1 1 36 7 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY