"Very well; now I see you are all attention. Martin Luther--wasn't he a grand fellow? Just look at him as he is travelling up to the Diet of Worms. As soon as the summons came to him, his mind was made up; he did not delay for a moment. People crowded about him and talked of _danger_, but Luther talked about _duty_. He set out in a waggon, with an imperial herald before him. His journey was like a triumphal procession. In every town through which he passed, young and old came out of their doors to wonder at him, and bless him, and tell him to be of good courage. At last he has got to Oppenheim, not far from Worms, and his friends do their very best to frighten him and keep him back; but he tells them that if he should have to encounter at Worms as many devils as there were tiles on the houses of that city, he would not be kept from his purpose. Ah! that was a grand answer. And then, when he got to his lodgings, what a sight it must have been! They were crowded inside and out with all classes and all kinds of persons,--soldiers, clergy, knights, peasants, nobles by the score, citizens by the thousand. And then came the grand day of all, the day after his arrival. He was sent for into the council-hall. What a sight that must have been for the poor monk! There was the young emperor himself, Charles the Fifth, in all his pomp and splendour, and two hundred of his princes and nobles. Why, it would have taken the breath out of a dozen such fellows as I am to have to stand up and speak up for what I knew to be right before such a company. But Luther did speak up; and there was no swagger about him either. They asked him to recant, and he begged time to consider of it. They met again next day, and then he refused to recant, with great gentleness. `Show me that I have done wrong,' he said, `and I will submit: until I am better instructed I cannot recant; it is not wise, it is not safe for a man to do anything against his conscience. Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.' There, auntie, don't you agree with me in giving the crown of moral courage to Martin Luther? It's an old story, and I've learned it quite by heart, for I was always fond of it, but it is none the less true on that account."