How Shyness Spoils Enjoyment
Mr. Arthur Helps writes upon this everyday hindrance to happiness: “I believe if most young persons were to tell us what they had suffered from shyness upon their entrance into society, it would well deserve to be placed next to want of truth as a hindrance to the enjoyment of society. Now, admitting that there is a certain degree of graceful modesty mixed up with this shyness, very becoming in the young, there is at the same time a great deal of needless care about what others think and say. In fact, it proceeds from a painful egotism, sharpened by needless self-examinations and foolish imaginations, in which the shy youth or maiden is tormented by his or her personality, and is haunted by imagining that he or she is the centre of the circle—the observed of all observers. The great cause of this shyness is not sufficiently accustoming children to society, or making them suppose that their conduct in it is a matter of extreme importance, and especially in urging them from their earliest youth by this most injurious of all sayings, ‘If you do this or that, what will be said, what will be thought of you?’ Thus referring the child not to religion, not to wisdom, not to virtue, not even to the opinion of those whose opinion ought to have weight, but to the opinion of whatever society he may chance to come into. I often think the parent, guardian, or teacher, who has happily omitted to instil this vile prudential consideration, or enabled the child to resist it, even if he, the teacher, has omitted much good advice and guidance, has still done better than that teacher or parent who has filled the child to the brim with good moral considerations, and yet has allowed this one piece of arrant worldliness to creep in.”
“Custom, the Queen of the World.”
Sir William Hamilton, in his Metaphysical Essays, has the following passage characterizing this universal rule:—
“Man is by nature a social animal. ‘He is more political,’ says Aristotle, ‘than any bee or ant.’ But the existence of society, from a family to a state, supposes a certain harmony of sentiment among its members; and nature has, accordingly, wisely implanted in us a tendency to assimilate in opinions and habits of thought to those with whom we live and act. There is thus, in every society great or small, a certain gravitation of opinions towards a common centre. As in our natural body, every part has a necessary sympathy with every other, and all together form, by their harmonious conspiration, a healthy whole; so, in the social body, there is always a strong predisposition, in each of its members, to act and think in unison with the rest. This universal sympathy, or fellow-feeling, of our social nature, is the principle of the different spirit dominant in different ages, countries, ranks, sexes, and periods of life. It is the cause why fashions, why political and religious enthusiasm, why moral example, either for good or evil, spread so rapidly and exert so powerful an influence. As men are naturally prone to imitate others, they consequently regard, as important or insignificant, as honourable or disgraceful, as true or false, as good or bad, what those around them consider in the same light. They love and hate what they see others desire and eschew. This is not to be regretted; it is natural, and consequently it is right. Indeed, were it otherwise, society could not subsist, for nothing can be more apparent than that mankind in general, destined as they are to occupations incompatible with intellectual cultivation, are wholly incapable of forming opinions for themselves on many of the most important objects of human consideration.
“If such, however, be the intentions of nature with respect to the unenlightened classes, it is manifest that a heavier obligation is thereby laid on those who enjoy the advantages of intellectual cultivation, to examine with diligence and impartiality the foundations of those opinions which have any connexion with the welfare of mankind. If the multitude must be led, it is of consequence that it be led by enlightened conductors. That the great multitude of mankind are by natural disposition only what others are, is a fact at all times so obtrusive that it could not escape observation from the moment a reflective eye was first turned upon man. ‘The whole conduct of Cambyses,’ says Herodotus, the father of history, ‘towards the Egyptian gods, sanctuaries, and priests, convinces me that this king was in the highest degree insane, for otherwise he would not have insulted the worship and holy things of the Egyptians. If any one should accord to all men the permission to make free choice of the best among all customs, undoubtedly each would choose his own. That this would certainly happen can be shown by many examples, and among others by the following. The King Darius once asked the Greeks who were resident in his court, at what price they could be induced to devour their dead parents. The Greeks answered, that to this no price could bribe them. Thereupon the king asked some Indians who were in the habit of eating their dead parents, what they would take not to eat but to burn them; and the Indians answered even as the Greeks had done.’ Herodotus concludes this narrative with the observation, that ‘Pindar had justly entitled Custom—the Queen of the World.’”