Manly Independence
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My dear  brother,
  The ancients made fortitude one of the four cardinal virtues;  meaning by this term, not merely the power of enduring pain—but everything that  we now call courage; and they used to say, with truth, that where there was no  fortitude, the other virtues were left defenceless. I have often thought that  half the bad actions of boys arise from a sort of cowardice, a lack of manly  independence. Peter will not wear his  new hat for several days after he gets it, for fear James  will laugh at him. And James, though  he knows it is wrong to play truant, does so, lest Charles  should think him a coward.
  Make it a  rule for life to do what you know to be right, no matter what others think or  say. Do your  duty, and leave the consequences to God. Some people lose their souls from  neglect of this. They know very well that they ought to pray, and read the  Scriptures, and attend on other means of grace, and own Christ  by a public profession; but they are afraid of the scoffs of the world-they  hesitate-they procrastinate-they are lost.
  Remember,  my dear boy, that you are now forming your character for life. When you trained  the woodbine vine around the columns of our piazza, its stock  was very slender. You could bend it with your finger and thumb. I looked at it  yesterday; it is as thick as my wrist, and perfectly hard and immovable. You  might break it—but you could not possibly alter its twists. The woodbine vine  has a habit of being twisted. This habit was formed when it was tender and  supple. If it had been trained between long iron bars, I suppose it might have  got a habit of being straight. But it is now too late to straighten it.
  Now, is  it not possible that my dear brother is growing crooked? You understand my  meaning. Is it not possible that you are getting habits which are wrong? My  heart's wish is for you to grow up in such a way as to be erect, upright, and  noble—in all your principles. If you are always calculating what John, or Maria,  or this man, or those girls, or the world at large will think of you—it is  certain you can never have any manly firmness. I wish you to begin from the  hour you read this, to do what is right in every particular case, in spite of  what ignorant or wicked youth may say.
  There is Lewis Lee,  your Philadelphia  acquaintance. He is altogether a slave to other people's notions. I remember  that last summer he refused to accompany his mother to the steamboat, because  he had found out that some young men in Chestnut Street had made fun of the cut  of his coat. Lewis cannot bear to be  the object of ridicule. Again I say, be independent. Try to get right opinions,  and to do right acts; and bid defiance to the idle remarks of others.
  But do  not be hasty in forming opinions—nor obstinate in retaining them. Take the  advice of the wise and the good, and use every means to learn the best path.  Only stick to it when you are sure that you are in it.
  Lack of  this courage and firmness ruins thousands of young men every year. In our  colleges, most of the disturbances and rebellions which take place are from  this source. A few youth, who are perhaps already in disgrace, entice a number  of others into their plots; and the latter, like silly sheep, follow wherever  the ringleaders go. Why? O, because it would expose them to contempt or insult  to go back, or return to honourable obedience. They put on a bold face—but they  are chicken-hearted in reality. Not one of them can stand alone, or think for  himself. O beware of such yielding weakness! "Fear God, my children,"  said a great Frenchman, "have no other fear."
Your affectionate brother, 
James
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