"Thank you, my dear brother," said Amos warmly; "it was well and kindly done. Yes, God has been very good in delivering me out of my trouble, and specially in making you, dear Walter, the chief instrument in my deliverance." "I only wonder," said his brother, "that the wretched man did not make off with the pony." "No," said Amos; "that might have got him into trouble with the police, if they had found the pony in his possession, or had he sold it to anybody. No doubt, when he found the first night that I would not give him the cheque, he just turned the pony adrift, so that, whether he made his way home or any one found him, there would be no clue to the person who had entrapped me." "I see it all!" cried Walter. "But now we must finish up with a word on moral courage, with an illustration by dear auntie.--Yes, Aunt Kate, you see our hero Amos; you see how he has been ready to make a regular martyr of himself, and surely that is real moral courage." "Indeed it is so, dear Walter," said Miss Huntingdon; "and you were right in calling your brother's courage a species of martyrdom, for the spirit of a true martyr has been well described as `a readiness to suffer the greatest evil rather than knowingly to do the least.'" "Capital, auntie! And now, if father is willing, give us an example." Mr Huntingdon having gladly given his consent, his sister spoke as follows:-- "My moral hero this time is a real martyr, and a young one. In the spring of the year 1555, a youth, named William Hunter, entered the church of Brentwood, in Essex, to read in the great Bible which stood there chained to a desk for the use of the people. He was an apprentice to a London weaver, but was now on a visit to his native town. He loved the Bible, and it was his joy to read it. As he stood before the desk, a man named Atwell, an officer of the Romish bishop, came that way, and, seeing how he was engaged, remonstrated with him, and then said, when the young man quietly justified himself, `I see you are one who dislike the queen's laws, but if you do not turn you will broil for your opinions.'--`God give me grace,' replied William, `to believe his word and confess his name, whatever may come of it.'