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DETRACTION

DISPLAYED.

BY AMELIA OPIE,
H

NEW-YORK;

PUBLISHED BY ORVILLE A, ROORBACK,
W. E. Dean, Printer.

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*,

VI

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 I 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-
<jious purposes of DETRACTION.

1 s :>r: r .iH ACTION DISPLAYED,

AU who lia\;e Jived in the world with any
-cOKseiou^rifiss'of tbmr own besetting sins, or
those of others, must readily admit, that m
every class 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 following pages ;
though I am well aware, that no small degree
of unpopularity attends 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, I 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 If.

ON GENERAL AND PARTICULAR COMPETITION.

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

19 DETRACTION DISPLAYED,

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
mere love of talking, I still believe that they
are usually caused by GENERAL or PARTICU-
LAR COMPETITION.

Competition is not confined to the human
species. Petted animals are as susceptible of
it as men and women. They are displeased
\vhen 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 their envy.
They can, however, inflict injuries only on the
'body ; 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, arid what particular com-
petition.

General competition is a desire of notice and
attention, common to us all. Few persons en-
ter into society without wishing to become ob-

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. H

>eets 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 DISAPPOINTED
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
svere social beings, that they had human 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
COMPETITION ; 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, and

12 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

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 ? 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 unheeded,
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 vnr eg ene rated nature, not to feel sensa-

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 1&

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 law and 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 mind,
from the detraction and defamation excited by
their success.

Painters and sculptors, may be said to be
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 performances of his rivals ; in which his
eye, seeing through the medium of unsuccess-

14 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

ful competition, magnifies defects, and throws
beauties into the shade.

All candidates for fame must be wounded
by reading the praises of their successful com
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

NO 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. Bos well
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 Bos well,)
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,
c< Pshaw ! / can do it better myself." 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. T-his 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 is with reluctance that I have brought

^orward 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, thaft from

16 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

most other authors ; but I thought it necessary
in 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 feeling 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
score of personal charms is notorious, and the
rivalry of professed beauties, is even prover-
bial. 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. i7

tlare 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, particular competition ; not on the score
of beauty, like Philhs and Brunetta in the
tale, 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. " How 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 !" was her ingenuous
reply, " all the women were so ugly P 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*

18 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

tlomestic 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. The man of a certain station,
or consequence, in life, 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 i.en*-ral competition. But
those who say, u 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 particular 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
lule 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 as when it prompts to the foregoing ex-

DETRACTION 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 V 9 " Because her papa is
very rich, my dear, and I am not." u 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." " O !
papa, I know mamma wishes it as much as I

do ; she does not like Emily D should be

more accomplished than I am." " Nor 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 T'
" 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 setup, 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 J s eyes, noses, and ears,

though she is so much older, are not to be
compared to Louisa's ]" " Is this really the
case P' cries the gratified father, overcome by
these proofs of his child's superiority; " well
then, I fear I must consent to let Louisa have
two 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, comes 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 of 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 shall 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 competition 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
noblemen 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 uf his late guests knocked at the door.
" Th^re is Mrs. such a one," exclaimed he,
;c I dare say she will talk of ray dinner. Let

DETRACTION 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 preceding 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, u 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, Part de
raconler 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.

without being the objects of petty detraction.
But this new carriage will tempt some few in-
dividuals to particular 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 objecis of their censure had not
launched out into a style of living, in which
they dared not follow them, they would still
have 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 Torn 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-rings 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 jewel? 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 place* 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
of 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
\vith 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 own
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 delights, while the modest, safe
enjoyments of domestic life become compara-
tively insipid. 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 to de-
preciate. But, if she be so wise and amiable
as to remain in 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 those 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 ! Surely, 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. N or 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 tempta-
tion, 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

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-
lightful, as well as the safest place on earth.

1 wish to indulge myself in giving an extract
from one of Baroness de StaePs works, which
bears directly and powerfully on the subject
before me. u Observe," 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 ruling 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 sufferings of 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 depriye us even of the advantages which

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 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 multiplied by pain, and the end
in view is thrown at a greater distance even
by the attempt to obtain 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
she 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 crs 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 bro,-

32 DETRACTION 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 idolize, and flatter each
othur to such an extent, self-love blowing the
flame of natural affection 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, arid 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 first in importance in their own
families, and were painfully alive to the sense
of having failed in a competition, which, till
they were outdone, they were not conscious of
having felt.

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 manu-
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
feeling 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 willing
to praise where our praise bestows 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 admiring 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 their alents, and apt
to listen to their praises in 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 result 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 wrn re culled 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 Chri tian Heathen
lifted up his hands towards heaven, and pray-
ed for his enemies ; prayed that the people of
Athens might never see the day which should
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 leave
him some thousands.

36 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

" 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
little 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 they 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 writing 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 falling on any
particular person. You see an envious man
clear up his countenance, if, in the relation of
any man's grfat happiness in one point, you
mention his uneasiness 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 delight,
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

38 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 me the honour to torment themselves upon
the account of this my paper. As their case
is very 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.

9 Tis said that miracles will never cease ;

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 39

Three days, three wondrous days they liv'd in peace,
On the fourth morn 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 per^
son addressed join in the detraction. But, on
the contrary, she not only eagerly defended
the accused, but lavished on them the kindest
encomiums, 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, when 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 j
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 1 thought I, when I
heard this anecdote Here was self-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 affection, but from the sor-
did impulse of s^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- play ing, 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 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

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 mine as a hero also ; nay,
I must own that I feel his influence so much,
and he forces himself so continually into my
conversation, against my sense of propriety,
that, in revenge, I have resolved to hold him
and his daring up to public reprehension. It
is in vain that I 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 my 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 most 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 charae-

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 little as well as great things, and will
not own that the following fable, written by
that accurate judge of nature, CEsop, one of
the 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.

I know not which of them obtained most laurel:

But, as both thought that war had belter 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 little ones, however sweet,

But let the eaglets live, and tiny owls.

But, in the head of wisdom's bird,

Popt this sage question u Though thy word,

Dear friend, I doubt not, fain I'd learn

(Andthcu the reason wilt discern)

Whether the race of owls, and most my own,

To thee are personally known."
' No !" cried the Eagle, " none ere met my sight'
4 Then," cried the mother, in a fright,
4 For my sweet little ones I tremble !"
1 Why so, dear friend ?" the Eagle said,
1 Suppress this foolish dread ;

Tell me what. t)wlets most resemble :

44 DETEACTION DISPLAYED

Describe them so as I may know them,

(Thy own especially) and I'll forego them.

Nay ! may I from my throne be hurPd,

If I would kill thy 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 beautiful,.

All other owls above, as well as dutiful.

Thou, by their beauty, will at once

Know them for owls, and wilt be sure they're mine,

Therefore thou wilt to spare them all incline,

Nor on their lovely forms destroy ing 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 I'm a gentleman, I will not eat them."

'* Thanks !" cried the Owl, and bade good bye,

"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 creatare ?

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.

Big-eyed and hideous,

And with heads so prodigious,

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 45

They gave his feelings quite a shock,

He could not think he saw (hose birds sopretfy,

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 devour'd ;

So, sans f aeon ) I shall upon them sup ;"

Then, in a trice, they all were eaten up !

When the too partial owl return'd,

And found the nest bereft ;

And, of the forms she left,

Nought but the bony feet remaining,

Oh ! loud indeed was he complaining ;

And like another Niobe she mourn'cL

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 Minerva, " Tin too just for that ;

Thou hast to 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,

'Twas not the royal bird's unkindness

That kiil'd thy darlings, but their mother's blindness,

Before thy partial sight

They seem'd so fair and bright,

Merely because they offspring 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 'against iwv

irem

46* DETRACTION

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. 41

uierc 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

4B DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

contemplate " that ugly thing, 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 feeling,
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 bo
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 lady should soon after de-
preciate the notability 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, in such a case, the
company present would be justified in saying
that the authoress was the vainer of the two 4
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
Hterary associates. Yet, vanity is vanity, an.<?

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
feeling, 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 feelings 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 the first days of their

DETRACTION DISPLAYED, 5i

distress, their apparent degree of misery rareh
equals our expectation, but if they are as much
subdued at first as we suspected, still they
usually recover their spirits before they hav
our permission ; and with no small complacen
cy, we compare their rapidly-recovered cheer
fulness, with what we believe would have been
our protracted sufferings. 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 som
folks that they do not feel such things as others
do." The robber, Procrustes, used to tie thi
travellers whom he conquered on a bed, and if
their length exceeded it, he caused their Ihnbr
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,
hat those who feel a loss acutely ever cnn

52 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

3Vo, no, such persons are never really afflict-
ed." 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 other,
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
feeling, 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

DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

eyes ugly and gaudy. I believe that there arc
as many diversities of grief as of dress, as
many shades of sorrow as of colour, and tho
great Physician has mercifully furnished r
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 suppose
want of it in the object before them ; thus con-
verting the cypress of the bereaved into an 01
nament for their own vanity, and blessing
themselves, like the pharisee of old, that the .
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
hj felt : namely, that many are jealous, even
of superiority in the trials of life, and J
have been interrupted while expatiating on
the sorrows ?nd bereavements of some of my
friends, by thit> exclamation from another,
" Oh ! what are their trials to some I couk
mention ; they ought to be thankful it is no
worse. Other people, as I bitterly feel, have
had much more to undergo." And in physi-
cal inflictions I have seen the same desire oi
being supreme in suffering, and have heard
the sufferer exclaim witi. obvious 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
of 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

UETKACTION DISPLAYED. 55

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 was u 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
wife 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

56 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

let 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 earPs 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 ?" " 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 ?"
" What then, Sir? why the Honourable Mrs.

B must take 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 opulent 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 often 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 DISPLAYED. 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 zs, 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 beneficial, 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 ? if so, and they be as jealous of
respect as we are, it will not be likely to endear
the meeting to them, and cannot 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 1 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 love 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 :

M Better to reign in hell, than serve in beaver,-""

DETRACTION 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 ? 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,
\vhich converts them from conversible into si-
lent guests, and from benevolent observers of
the table and the company, into uncandid and
satirical ones ; and where is the remedy ?

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 annihilate 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 DISPLAYED.

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 ! for let me
sit where I will, that is the upper end to

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 63

tbee ;" 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 desirable for rules of prece-
dence to be drawn up, to regulate the claims
of those whose rights are not in the red book.

I 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.

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 self-ex-
amination, 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 being 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 u 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*

66 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

amongst the pious. But he shall speak for
himself. " It does not unfrequently happen,
that where two or more churches of the same
denomination exist in a 'own, a most unhappy,
unscriptural, 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 interests."

Again he says ; " Let us not look with envy
and jealousy on the growing prosperity of
other societies. Let us not consider 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 plague 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 DISPLAYED. 67

when they meet in their respective social cir-
cles, ail invidious and uncharitable reference
to the others.

Nothing 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 tliis mischievous gossip. All
comparisons between the talents of the minis-
ters and the respectability of their churches
should be carefully abstained from." c * 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-
fcouragement to the task, while transcribing

68 DETRACTION 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 a. 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 gossiping. However, as to this particu-
lar of defaming, both the -exes seems to be at
a vie, and I tliink he were a very critical judge
that could determine between them. Now,
lest this latter sort of defamers should be apt
to absolve themselves as men of harmless 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 <l de-
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-
out 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 judiccv-

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 71

lures ; 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 LAP-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, may sneer ;

But that wise man, nay, wisest man of old,

jEsop, 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,

And 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 whose foolish conduct tries one.
Who ne'er said foolish thing, nor did a wise one,)
He had a donkey also, long-ear'delf !
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 indulgences,
There was a smart alcove, with a veranda,
To shade his eyes from day's too strong effulgenciei.,
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 dos T d,

And there, like dormouse, he repos'd ;

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-lovinjr 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, caporing dog,

That's not much bigger than a full-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, our 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

DETBACTION DISPLAYED.

He never saw me give 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-Iegg'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, calPd 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 fornVd to coax, than strike ;
And little made like tiny dogs to tap.
Then, rushing on his wond'ring master,
Who little look'd for such great disaster,
Tried, vain attempt ! to sit upon his lap !
In short, could never lapdog, poodle, monkey,
$Iore 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 servant 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
in 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 lapdog he essayed,

Midst 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 springs,

The power which imps its harpy wings ;

Is CHIEFLY UNSUCCESSFUL COMPETITION.

RECAPITULATION : That ministers of the
gospel are, like 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 jEsop's fables, I illustrate
the power of unsuccessful competition.

CHAPTER VIII.

ON DETRACTION.

WHAT is detraction ? 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 be 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 delights 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 public 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 DISPLAYED.

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 de: 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 delightful 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-
tian 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

as 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, have no general
objects on which they can converse, after " la
pluie et le beau-temps 7 ' have been sufficiently
discussed, except the gossip of the day, and
observations on the persons, dress, manners,
and morals perhaps of their associates.

Detraction 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 beginning 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
7*

7S DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

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
benefiting 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 this ; but I have had plea-

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. 79

sure 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 I 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
cd) has been 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 converse*
nation should bo. on thin?*, nw? not on person?.

80 DETRACTION DISPLAYEP-

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 ommand, 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 : 1 , All private ways
of calumny and false imputation. 2. All un-
grounded and false surmises, or suspicions; ail
uncharitable constructions of others* actions
and carriage. 3. 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 free of the command-
ment : no, thy false intention and malice 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 their
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 same
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 tasteth
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 others, to increase

82 DETRACTION DISPLAYED.

their own ; who try, out of others' rums?
to make up themselves, and therefore pulf
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* 83

\vies of detraction. But I must promise, 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
clown 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 arid 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 heur 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 in
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

34 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 acquirement, till the envious auditor
could bear no more, but, hastily interrupting
the last eulogist, he exclaimed, " AH 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 delinquency ; 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 hatl any existence, except in their ir>

DETRACTION' DISPLAYED,, 85

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 tins phrase, so much more balmy to seff-
"3ove than the other, run the risk of calling
forth the jealous feelings 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.

I shall now recapitulate what has been said
m the present chapter.

I have stated that detraction is of two kinds,

8

$6 DETRACTION DlSfLAVEU.

spoken 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 failings.

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.

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CHAPTER IX.

ON THE DIFFERENT CLASSES OF DETRACTORS.

I SHALL now proceed to enumerate the dff^
ferent classes of detractors.

Detractors may be divided under the follow-
ing heads :

Gossips.

Talkers- over.

Laughers-at.

Banterers.

Nicknamers.

Stingers.

Scorners.

JSaeerers.

Eye-inm'ctors.

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 are none more
incorrigible.

Gossips are not always malevolent, but they
are always idle, and it is their idleness tha f
makes them gossips.

SS 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? How are they " to kill
the enemy 1" (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 whiclx
they decorate their conversation, when on
their round of calls. A male gossip, who used
frequently to visit at my bouse in London*
to me in a pompous tone of voice, and

DETRACTION DISPLAYED. $&

with a contemptuous sneer when I asked him
if he had read such and such books, " Books !
no I never read books, 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 promonade. 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 DfiTKACTlON DISPLAYED.

relfsh must be found ; and then, oh ! ther,
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 squirrel 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 ou