Universal prevalence of detraction and slander. Proofs Shakspeare. Burns the poet. Self-knowledge, how much to be desired. Reference to the work of Mrs. Opie—to our own hearts—to the Bible.

Let it not be supposed, for one moment, that I consider young women as more generally in the habit of detraction than other people; for I venture on no comparisons of the kind. All I presume to take for granted is, that they are often exceedingly faulty in this respect, and need counsel and caution. Were there any doubts on the latter point, one would think they might very readily be removed by reading the excellent work of Amelia Opie, entitled, "Detraction Displayed; or, a Cure for Scandal."

This detraction or scandal is so common every where in life, that multitudes are addicted to it without the shadow of a suspicion that they are so. Thousands and thousands of young women whose hearts would recoil at the bare recital of deeds of butchery and blood—nay, who would faint at the sight of the severities, not to say cruelties, which, under the guise of parental discipline, or on the plea of authority, are often and hourly inflicted on the bodies of young and old—who will yet rob and murder their unoffending neighbors. For there is no little truth in what Shakspeare says so pungently—

"Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 't is his, it may be slave to thousands:
But he that filches from me my good name,
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed."

Nor is there less of truth in what the evangelist says, that "whoso hateth his brother" (and does not a slanderer hate?) "is a murderer."

I know it may seem harsh to fasten on any class of the community, and above all, on the young of either sex, the charge of robbery or murder. But is it not proper that the truth should be told? And if there is such a propensity in us to competition in its varied forms, that not only thoughts but words of detraction are, as it were, forever on our thoughtless tongues and lips, and we will not, though often warned, set a guard over the latter, is it not right that we should be represented as the robbers of reputation? And if there is such a disposition to try to be first in the community, and to compel those around us to take the second place—the lower seat—as generates envy and hatred—the seeds of murder—is it not right to warn the young of their danger? And when we find them callous to our representations of the truth—when we find their hearts almost as unmoved as the firm rocks they tread on, notwithstanding our most faithful exhibitions of human depravity, as is evinced by the slander, the detraction and the calumny which every where prevail, and which many must see, as in a glass, to prevail in their own bosoms, while yet their very blood recoils at the tales of imaginary wo from the pen of Bulwer, or some other novelist of kindred fame—is it not proper to remind people of what the evangelist says of hatred, that it is murder?

Burns, the poet, sought some power who would bestow on us the gift "to see ourselves as others see us." Poor Burns! this was as high as he could be expected to go. But how much more to be desired is it, that we could see ourselves as God sees us? Not indeed at once, lest the very sight should sink us, forthwith, into everlasting night; but by degrees, rather, as we may be able to endure it.

How much to be desired is it, I say, especially by the young, that we might see how prone we are to enter into competition, particular or general, with the community; and how apt we are, with almost every breath, and in almost every conceivable form, to throw the good character, and merits, and success, even, of others into the shade. How can those whose young hearts beat high in anticipation of a good name, even in this world, be willing to jeopardize their character by the commission of so much meanness!

I need not enter into particulars, especially when the invaluable work of Mrs. Opie is before the world. Let me refer those who entertain doubts whether, after all, I am not among the very sort of detractors whom I am censuring with so much severity—and whether, what I complain of in the individual, as abusive on here and there a neighbor or acquaintance, I am not pouring, by wholesale, and with a spirit not a whit better, upon a whole community,—let me refer all such, I say, to that invaluable work. Let me also refer them to themselves.

I am sure no one can carefully examine and analyze her own most secret feelings without discovering in herself the spirit of detraction in some form or other, if it be only in the form of genteel slander, envy or discontent. If there be those who do not find it so with themselves, and who say that however it may be with others, they are not thus circumstanced or thus guilty, I pity them most sincerely, as grossly ignorant of themselves. Such persons I have only and lastly to refer to that volume of Divine Truth, which assures us that the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; and which asks, with the most pertinent significance, not to say eloquence-WHO CAN KNOW IT?