an author of our time was probably the shyest
of men. Nathaniel Hawthorne was shy to the extent of morbidity. We have
observed him, when a stranger entered the room where he was, turn his
back for the purpose of avoiding recognition. And yet, when the crust
of his shyness was broken, no man could be more cordial and genial than
Hawthorne.

We observe a remark in one of Hawthorne's lately-published 'Notebooks,'
[1814] that on one occasion he met Mr. Helps in society, and found him
"cold." And doubtless Mr. Helps thought the same of him. It was only the
case of two shy men meeting, each thinking the other stiff and reserved,
and parting before their mutual film of shyness had been removed by a
little friendly intercourse. Before pronouncing a hasty judgment in such
cases, it would be well to bear in mind the motto of Helvetius, which
Bentham says proved such a real treasure to him: "POUR AIMER LES HOMMES,
IL FAUT ATTENDRE PEU."

We have thus far spoken of shyness as a defect. But there is another way
of looking at it; for even shyness has its bright side, and contains
an element of good. Shy men and shy races are ungraceful and
undemonstrative, because, as regards society at large, they are
comparatively unsociable. They do not possess those elegances of manner,
acquired by free intercourse, which distinguish the social races,
because their tendency is to shun society rather than to seek it.
They are shy in the presence of strangers, and shy even in their own
families. They hide their affections under a robe of reserve, and when
they do give way to their feelings, it is only in some very hidden
inner-chamber. And yet the feelings ARE there, and not the less healthy
and genuine that they are not made the subject of exhibition to others.

It was not a little characteristic of the ancient Germans, that the more
social and demonstrative peoples by whom they were surrounded should
have characterised them as the NIEMEC, or Dumb men. And the same
designation might equally apply to the modern English, as compared, for
example, with their nimbler, more communicative and vocal, and in all
respects more social neighbours, the modern French and Irish.

But there is one characteristic which marks the English people, as it
did the races from which they have mainly sprung, and that is
their intense love of Home. Give the Englishman a home, and he is
comparatively indifferent to society. For the sake of a holding which he
can call hi