e before you--the one is my dear aunt Kate, and the other is my dear
brother Amos. My aunt has taught me with her lips, and my brother by
his life.--Nay, Amos, you must not interrupt the speaking. At this
moment I am in possession of the house.--My lessons have been on the
subject of moral courage. I used to think I was very brave, and didn't
need any instruction on such a subject. I looked down upon, and would
have despised, only I couldn't, the noblest brother that ever brother
had.--Ay, ay, it's no use shaking your head, Amos; I am speaking nothing
but the truth.--Over and over again I have shown myself a moral coward;
over and over again Aunt Kate has set before me, at my own request,
examples of moral heroism from history and real life, just to suit my
case and stir me up to better things; and over and over again I have
seen acted out by my brother there the very lessons I have been so slow
in learning. Ah, it has been grand teaching! We have had such a lot of
moral heroes,--Columbus, and Washington, and Howard, and Luther, and
Fletcher, and a score more. But here is my moral hero," saying which he
threw one arm round his weeping brother's neck, and put a hand over his
mouth as he proceeded. "Yes, you must hear me out now. Here is the
brother who, with a moral courage that never nagged, that no unkindness,
no misunderstanding could bend, has been carrying out for years one
great purpose, which God has permitted him this day to bring to a full
accomplishment. That purpose we all see fulfilled in our complete
family gathering to-night. Yes; Amos is my hero of heroes, and he
_shall_ hear me say it. I ask his pardon now for all my unworthy
treatment of him. He _is_ my hero, for he has nobly conquered. He has
conquered us all, but none more completely than the brother who looks
upon it as one of his dearest privileges to be permitted to love him and
to try and copy his example."

What could Amos do? what could he say? Clinging to the impulsive
brother who had thus spoken out impetuously what all felt to be true,
and sobbing out his regrets that such words should have been spoken of
one who felt himself to be so undeserving of them, he was utterly at a
loss what to reply, nor did any one for the moment venture to add a
word. But at last the silence was broken by the clear and gentle voice
of Miss Huntingdon. "It may be, dearest ones, that a few words from
myself may not be out of place after dear Walter's