# Advice to Young Ladies/Chapter 7

Chapter VII.
External Condition.
The lines of distinction, on account of condition, are more clearly drawn in reference to women than men, and they are also much more difficult to pass. A poor young girl, without the advantages of education, finds it very difficult to rise above her original condition, while lads in the same circumstances, if they possess quickness and intelligence, are almost sure, when they become men, to take a higher place in society, than they seemed at first destined to occupy. ​Not one cause alone, but many causes combined, go to produce this result. There is much of actual disability to rise far above her condition, which tends to keep a young girl down, resulting from want of education, refined and intelligent companionship, and the almost invariable necessity for constant and wearying labor with her hands. These all unite to hinder mental improvement, a cultivation of the taste, refinement of manner, and the attainment of those accomplishments so indispensable to a woman, and without which a poor girl cannot rise above her first estate in life. But all these combined need not hinder her elevation if she will but look up, and strive after the attainment of real virtue, intelligence, and grace of mind and body. It is not so much the condition into which a young woman is born, that excludes her from familiar intercourse with the intelligent and refined of her own and the other sex, as it is her lack of that intelligence and refinement which is in itself the social bond of union among them. Pride in those above her is not so strong to keep her down, as disabilities and unfitnesses in herself. These, at first, are her misfortunes; but, afterwards, they may become her faults.
The mere introduction of one, born and educated in a low condition in life, into the society ​of those who are born into, or have been elevated into, a higher, more intelligent, and refined condition, would be rather an injury than a benefit, if she were not at the same time gifted with some portion of a corresponding intelligence and refinement. She could neither give nor receive any thing—could add nothing to the general good and general enjoyment, nor receive any genuine good or true enjoyment in return. The wish to be thus introduced, without the requisite qualifications for such an introduction, has its origin in pride, as much as the wish to keep out from the benefits of refined society those who are in an humble condition, because they are poor and humble, has its origin in pride. Among the poor, uneducated, and humble, there exists the same natural ability to be refined and intelligent, as among those born to a better condition: the difference lies in the difference of means available to each, arising from the peculiarity of external circumstances.
While it is possible for a poor, uneducated girl to become a highly-accomplished and intelligent woman, yet, from the very nature of the disabilities surrounding her, this is a very difficult matter, and a thing but rarely attained. The chief end we have in view in particularly introducing this subject now, is to show that a ​certain degree of intelligence and refinement, while it adds to the happiness and means of doing good, is attainable by all, no matter how low their original condition, and should be striven after by all. The influence of an ignorant, vulgar-minded woman is necessarily bad, whether it be felt by her companions, relatives, husband, or children. As a maiden, she inspires no virtuous resolves in those with whom she associates; as a wife, she does not elevate the mind of her husband, and make him love what is really excellent, because in her personified; as a mother, she does not implant in the minds of her children that love of truth by which, in after life, they may be raised from the baseness and disorder of their natural condition. From this simple fact, it is at once seen, that upon the elevation of woman depends the elevation of the lower classes of society. Every one should bear this in mind, and especially woman herself—woman in an humble as well as in a high condition.
A young girl who is poor, and unblessed by the advantages of a good education, will find little to awaken a desire for improvement, refinement, and self-elevation. Nearly all that surrounds her tends to hold her just where she is. Obeying the social law of her being, she ​seeks companions; and these are young persons of her own age, and in a like condition. Too rarely does she find among them a desire for self-improvement, and too often a love of what is low and vulgar. The time she passes with them is frequently spent in the most senseless frivolities, or in conversation about dress and beaux, and such matters as tend to give false views of life, and excite the lowest passions. Of the excellence of virtue, the love of being useful to others, the beauty of a modest deportment, she hears little, if any thing at all, in this thoughtless circle. There is little to elevate her, little to awaken in her mind an earnest aspiration after the truly good and beautiful; but every thing to hold her where she is, or to drag her down lower.
Every one thus situated, however, who really desires to elevate herself above the low position in which she finds herself placed, will always meet with some one or more among her associates of a better class than the rest. If she make these, rather than the others, her companions, she will find much to aid, encourage, and strengthen her. Once in the upward movement, and self-elevation will be, comparatively, an easy thing.
To sketch briefly the history of one thus situated, and to show how she elevated herself, will ​make a stronger impression upon the mind than any mere declaration of the means by which such an elevation is to be gained. This we shall attempt to do.
Ann Liston was the daughter of a poor mechanic, who had a large family and a small income. The father was industrious, and so was his wife; but the income was so small, and the wants so many, that, with all their industry and efforts to save, they could get nothing ahead. As soon as Ann was old enough to do any thing useful, she was under the necessity of assisting her mother. She was not over nine years of age when first obliged to work about the house, or to nurse the baby. But she was handy and willing, and this made her very useful to her mother, notwithstanding she was so young. The condition of Ann necessarily excluded her from the advantages of a good education. She went to school only a few quarters, and merely learned to read and to write a little, besides gaining some small acquaintance with figures. There was nothing at home to excite a taste for reading, and few books within her reach to gratify that taste, had it been excited. The whole family library consisted of the Bible, Prayer Book, Pilgrim’s Progress, and one or two old books of history and travel. The father ​was not a reading man, nor was the mother at all inclined to books. But both were members of the church, and on Sunday read their Bible, and regularly attended worship with their children, teaching them to fear God and reverence sacred things.
At the acre of fourteen, Ann went from home to learn the trade of dress-making. Up to this period, her home duties had been so constant and engrossing as to allow her but little time to mingle with young girls of her own age and condition. Her habits, feelings, and tastes were not, as may be supposed, at all refined, nor was there more than a rough polish to her manners. Five years of pretty constant and pretty hard labor about the house had taken from her limbs and movements the natural grace of childhood, and left her somewhat ungainly and awkward. To counterbalance these defects of habit and education, Ann had an honest mind, and possessed a natural independence of thought and action, with some shrewdness, and a good deal of common sense. Thus furnished, she left her father’s house, and went forth to gain an independent livelihood in the world. Her first experiences were rather painful. She found herself in the midst of some ten or fifteen young girls, from her own age up to twenty, all ​engaged, like herself, in acquiring a knowledge of the business she had come to learn. Some of these, who had been blessed with advantages greater than hers, or who had seen more of the world, were not backward in ridiculing the unpolished girl for her defects of speech, dress, and manner. Ann was sensitive, and these things hurt her; but the result was good, for it caused her to think of the defects pointed out so rudely, and to make an effort to correct them. It likewise caused her to be retiring and observant—to think of her words, her manners, and her conduct. Many months did not pass, before there was a change in her external appearance, and in her manners, that was very apparent—a change that had been so gradual as not to attract sudden attention. She had also learned to think, and to contrast the good principles she had been taught at home with what she saw and heard. Early impressed with a regard for the truth, to her great surprise she too often found it violated by those around her; and she was no less surprised to find in many of the young girls in the work-room a total disregard to the interests of the person with whom they were learning their trade.
Among her fellow-apprentices was one named Florence, to whom Ann early attached herself. ​She was the daughter of a widow, suddenly reduced from comfortable to needy circumstances, and was acquiring a knowledge of dress-making as a means of adding to their small and insufficient income. This girl had received an excellent education, and had moved in very good society. She was intelligent, polished in her manners, and possessed a finely-cultivated taste. The loss of friends, and a change in external circumstances, had subdued her whole character, and made her thoughtful. There was something about Ann, rude as she at first was, that caused her to respect the poor girl. Instead of ridiculing her for her deficiencies, she gently sought to correct them. This evidence of good-will touched the feelings of Ann, who hearkened to all her suggestions, and sought to correct every little defect of manner, or roughness of speech, that was kindly pointed out to her. The ease, grace, and womanly dignity of Florence were beautiful in the eyes of the humble-minded girl. She saw in them something really true and excellent, when contrasted with the rudeness and bold vulgarity of others in the work-room. Her whole character was a model of excellence in her eyes—a standard of emulation. We first begin to rise towards excellence of any kind, when we first begin to admire and love it. ​So it was with Ann Liston. She no sooner began to admire and love the whole character of Florence, than she began to form her own character, as far as she could do so, after a like model. In her leisure moments, she read such books as were placed in her hands by Florence. These were not the popular and exciting novels of the day, that were read by too many of her young companions; but books that made her think truly of life, and her own duties and responsibilities.
By the time Ann had finished learning her trade, she was very much changed for the better. The whole expression of her face was altered. Her step was more graceful, her speech more polished, and her mind more enlightened. Contrasted with several of those who had ridiculed her for her deficiencies, when she first left her home, the difference was quite as strong as before; but now it was in her favor. The achievement of this much was not without passing through many temptations from some of the vulgar, low-minded girls around her. Several of these had their beaux, whom they used frequently to meet and walk with in the evening; and they often persuaded Ann to join them. Once or twice she did do so; but the young men she met were even more vulgar minded than her ​companions, who were, as it seemed to her, most unblushingly familiar with the young men. Shocked and disgusted with all this, she ventured no more into such company, contenting herself with reading alone, when not at work, or in congenial intercourse with Florence, and one or two others more like her than the rest.
After having learned her trade, the next business of Ann was to go out and sew for her living. Modest in her deportment, quiet, and what might now be called lady-like in her manners, industrious and capable, Ann soon had as much, and more than she could do in families of good standing, in all of which she was respected and treated as she deserved. She continued in this capacity for about three years, during which time both mind and person steadily improved, until she became a really interesting and quite intelligent young woman. But, withal, she was exceedingly modest and retiring. A very fine young man, a clerk in the store of the husband of one of the ladies for whom she worked, had noticed Ann for more than a year. Her appearance, manner, and conversation, whenever he did hear her speak, which was seldom, pleased him very much. At last, encouraged by the lady just alluded to, who spoke in the highest praise of Ann, he formally addressed her, and ​was, after a time, fortunate enough to gain her consent to be married. She made him a frugal, industrious wife, and an excellent companion. About five years afterwards, he went into business on a small capital, which they had saved from his salary, and was quite successful. He did not become, it is true, a very rich man, nor his wife a great lady; but they were in good circumstances, and able to give their children every advantage of education, and the means of usefulness and advancement in the world.
Out of ten young girls in the work-room where Ann learned her trade, all with no better advantages than she had possessed, seven married men of low minds and vulgar habits, and never rose above their original condition. Two were more like Ann, and they were sought by young men of a better class. One of them did not marry at all.
No matter how many and great may be the disadvantages under which a young girl may labor,—she may yet rise, if she will, very much above the points, in external condition, from which she started in life. And in proportion as she thus rises will she find a higher degree of happiness, and be able to do far more good than otherwise would be possible to her.
Every thing that tends to elevate the lower ​classes of the community above what is rude, ignorant, and vulgar, adds to their happiness, because it makes them better and wiser; but this rudeness, ignorance, and vulgarity will prevail just so long as woman is kept down by the pressure of circumstances; for, in her influence upon the other sex, but mainly upon her children, lies the all-potent principle of social reformation. Let every young woman, if her lot be humble, and her advantages few, remember that she has a duty to perform to society as well as herself, and wisely seek to fulfil the obligations that rest upon her. At the same time, every young woman, who is blessed with the superior advantages of education and refinement, should as earnestly seek to lift up those below her, and inspire them with a love of what is useful, refined, and truly good.
Those whose external condition is very different from what we have been describing, who are blessed with all the comforts, luxuries, and advantages attainable by wealth, are in some danger of entertaining false notions in regard to themselves, and of valuing themselves more on account of their condition in life, than for the virtues they possess. This is of course a false valuation; and whoever makes it commits an error that will lead to unhappiness sooner or ​later. Wealth affords great advantages, but it makes no one any the better. Gold never purchases virtue nor excellence of character; it is possessed alike by the good and the bad; and whoever values himself, as a man, on account of his wealth, shows himself to be a very weak man.
A young girl, who has all the advantages that wealth affords, will be very apt to feel that she is superior to those in a lower condition, simply because she is surrounded with more of the elegances of life than they are, and moves in what is called a higher circle. But this feeling she should strive against as ignoble; for what have the elegances of life with which others have surrounded her, and the circle of friends into which a happy concurrence of circumstances has introduced her, to do with her real worth? Nothing whatever! One far below her in the reception and enjoyment of these blessings, may really be far above, her in all that goes to make up the true woman. Let her, then, make virtue the standard of excellence, and let her seek to do some good with the ability and superior advantages that God has given her, instead of sitting idly down in the vain imagination of her own superiority.