Natural Diffidence is the result, as already stated, of certain peculiarities of constitution. There is a want of confidence in one’s self—a shrinking dread of intercourse with strangers, especially those of the opposite sex, and he, or she, can give no reason for this diffident feeling. He may be well educated; of attractive personal appearance, of good conversational abilities, and well dressed, yet from that strange feeling of natural bashfulness, so well known, yet difficult to describe, he is a timid, shrinking creature, subject to trials of which a self-reliant man has no conception. He blushes and becomes confused if suddenly addressed. His heart beats painfully at the idea of entering a well-lighted room filled with ladies and gentlemen. And this feeling is the result, in a great measure, of his small self-esteem. Your truly diffident person is of extremely sensitive, retiring disposition, and while he is apt to accord to others superiorities they do not possess, he entertains for his own abilities, personal and mental qualities, the most humble opinion. And thus he does himself great injustice and injury. He does not attain that position in society nor that success in professional or business life that he would were he not shackled by his foolish timidity—his deference to others.

A bold, self-confident man, with a mere fraction of a bashful man’s ability and attainments, will invariably distance him in the affairs of life. “Brass” always tells. The world don’t stop to analyze a man for his real merit. It takes him at his own valuation, and if a man puts a low estimate upon himself and goes through life with a hanging head and blushing face, he has small success, and less pity. The good things of this world—the successes in love, in business, in politics, &c., are invariably won by those who have a good opinion of themselves; who have faith in their special talents and abilities, and who push ahead in accordance with this faith.

There never was a truer saying than that faint heart never won fair lady. While women have a genuine admiration for the truly modest and pure-minded men, they have a genuine contempt for your chicken-hearted, bashful, tongue-tied fellows.

Although a good many screeching females in these Women’s Rights, Advanced Female days can not lay special claims to any superfluous amount of modesty, still the softer sex have not yet lost those endearing qualities of gentleness, modesty, and loving trustfulness in the opposite sex. Since that time when Eve cast her first loving glances towards robust Adam, women’s love and admiration have gone out to bold and gallant men. As she is timid and weak, so the more does she admire the qualities of strength and courage. Man is her natural protector, and she looks up to him and clings to him in love and confidence.

Women are pre-eminently romantic in all that concerns love. Her heroes are those who do brave and perilous deeds; who scorn ease and effeminacy, and who laugh at danger—captains who go down to the sea in ships and sail away over the mysterious ocean to strange, far-away lands—men who with shut jaws, gleaming eyes, and fixed bayonets go digging over fort walls, from which come unceasing flashes of fire and a pitiless rain of death.

(How the officers and men who came home from The War were honored, and almost caressed, especially by the ladies; and what a host of marriages took place among the gallant fellows!)

It has been truly said that no woman really loves who has not discovered some traits in her lover’s character that she considers noble and heroic. It is a glory for a woman to be able to be proud of her lover or husband—of his superior intellect, his dignity and strong manhood and loving care and tenderness, and it is proverbial how a true woman overlooks and endeavors to conceal the faults and weaknesses of her husband. He was her hero at marriage, and though the illusion may have passed, she still bravely tries to maintain it.

It often happens that a bright, superior girl marries a quiet, bashful fellow, in whom her friends do not see anything worth marrying for. But it is certain the girl has discovered under all the young man’s reserve and diffidence, superior traits of character that have secured her attention and love.

This may be illustrated by an incident in which the actors are personally known to the writer.

Frank W—— was a young man of more than common intelligence and strength of character, but he was so obstinately bashful and retiring that his real worth was entirely unappreciated by his acquaintances. He rarely ventured out to parties, &c., and when he did, was entirely eclipsed by all the ready-tongued young men in the room. Now this Frank W—— was irretrievably in love with the most charming young lady in town, Miss Louisa L——, who understood and appreciated W——, and often gave his society marked preference, to the surprise and disgust of the before-mentioned ready-tongued fellows, yet was careful to give no indication by which W—— could hope he had secured her affections. Thus matters went on a couple of years, and W—— was almost in despair, though he had really made more progress than he had imagined. But an accident occurred that brought matters to an agreeable termination. They were out for a ride, with a spirited horse one autumn afternoon, and in going down a steep hill a rein broke, and the animal dashed forward at a tremendous pace. W—— turned quietly towards Miss L——, and giving her an assuring look, placed a foot on the dasher-board, and with a leap placed himself fairly astride the animal. Leaning forward and seizing the beast by the nostrils he twisted her head suddenly to one side, and brought the whole affair to a stand-still within half-a-dozen rods. Soothing the excited horse by a little gentle stroking, W—— united the rein, and then coolly drove on as if nothing had happened.

“I then and there decided to marry him,” said Miss L——, relating the incident. “I concluded that one who could perform such a daring and dangerous act, and regard it with quiet indifference, was a true and noble man, and one whom I could implicitly trust.” And she was right, for a woman never secured a better or more faithful husband.

A bashful young man who had the appearance of no great amount of spirit, complained to his father of his want of success in winning the esteem of a certain proud young lady. “You can swim, Sam?” “Yes, sir.” “Well, the next time you go sailing with that girl, manage to dip her into the stream, without letting her suspect you; then rescue her like a man. Or do anything else that will show that you have some life and pluck, and you’ll find she has an improved opinion of you directly.”

And the pith of wisdom is in this bit of paternal advice.

Rather than be a bashful, blushing, stuttering booby, it would be much better for a young man to be over-confident and bold. With the latter qualities his chances of success in any direction in life, would be infinitely better. And it is the stout, true heart that finds favor with the ladies. Women love to be sought, and have attention paid them. It is their nature to be timid, trustful and confiding. They love to rely upon and feel the support of manly strength. Now a timid, bashful fellow does not possess those qualities that women most admire, and to possess them should be a bashful person’s foremost ambition.

The boy who hangs his head and sucks his thumb when spoken to by a stranger, and who is generally to be found moping behind the kitchen fire, looking at a picture book, is not the mother’s favorite. The saucy little chap who sticks his fists into his breeches pocket, and don’t see anything in strangers to fear; who rides the colts bare-back; who don’t like the girls because they can’t climb after bird’s eggs; who sails about the pond on a six foot plank; and is the leader in all kinds of boyish mischief;—this is the brave and fearless boy that fills his mother’s heart with secret pride and joy. “The spunky little cuss,” though coarse and jarring, is far more pleasant to the mother’s ear than “Poor child, he is so sensitive and bashful.”

And again we repeat, women do not admire bashful men. While they may pity, a woman secretly despises a man who is really or appears to be afraid of women. A diffident fellow never was nor never will be a favorite with the ladies. It is your easy-going, self-possessed, talking chaps who are the popular ones. This is illustrated in any assemblage of both sexes. Take a party, for instance, early in the evening when matters are a little frigid. The ladies are inclined to congregate in groups by themselves, with shy glances towards the gentlemen, whose inclinations seem to be that of making wall-ornaments of themselves. Presently there will enter the room a fellow who is not quite certain if he understands what the word “bashfulness” means. He goes up to a group of ladies, smiles and bows to all, shakes hands with some, and is in felicity right away, to the envy and admiration of the wall-ornament chaps.

While young ladies are timid and retiring, they dislike the exhibition of these qualities by men. This cannot be better illustrated than by noticing how a young man from the city, with his easy manners, his self-assurance, and ready ways, will go into a country village and “cut out” the fellows right and left, making himself a favorite with the girls in an amazing short time. And this fellow may be only a shallow-brained fop from some city dry goods store, where he is engaged measuring out ribbons from 8 A. M. till 6 P. M. His education is not worth speaking of; he smokes; he gets drunk making New Year’s calls; he don’t go to church; his moral character will not bear severe inspection, and yet this fellow goes to the country, and even the sensible girls rather admire him, and are well pleased to see him coming up the walk for an evening’s visit. The best of the country beaux have received a good education at the academy; they are clear in head and sound in body, they are able to marry, owning their own business, or soon to do so, and yet the company of a pop-in-jay chap from the city is openly preferred to that of these substantial and worthy country young men. And they do not understand it, though it is plain enough. The city fellow brings with him an air of the great world outside this country village. For years he has read the morning paper as regularly as he has taken his breakfast, therefore he is informed of all the events of the day. He can tell you the present mental condition of Queen Victoria, what the latest news is from Mormondom, or how Prince Jim Jund is progressing with his railroad enterprise in Africa. He can discuss politics with the father, talk with mother concerning the last General Religious Convention, and with the young ladies fairly effervesces with small talk. And here he has at immense advantage the country young men, whose current literature probably consists of the Weekly County paper, fearfully dry and dull, a city story, or Agricultural paper, and Ayre’s last Almanac. With these only for his mental food, how can a young man make himself entertaining and agreeable with chatty talk on the light topics of the day?