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What The Bell Saw And Said
By
Louisa May Alcott
"Bells ring others to church, but go not =
in
themselves."
No one saw the spirits of the bells up there in
the old steeple at midnight on Christmas Eve. Six quaint figures, each wrap=
ped
in a shadowy cloak and wearing a bell-shaped cap. All were gray-headed, for
they were among the oldest bell-spirits of the city, and "the light of
other days" shone in their thoughtful eyes. Silently they sat, looking
down on the snow-covered roofs glittering in the moonlight, and the quiet
streets deserted by all but the watchmen on their chilly rounds, and such p=
oor
souls as wandered shelterless in the winter night. Presently one of the spi=
rits
said, in a tone, which, low as it was, filled the belfry with reverberating
echoes,--
"Well, brothers, are your reports ready of
the year that now lies dying?"
All bowed their heads, and one of the oldest
answered in a sonorous voice:--
"My report isn't all I could wish. You kn=
ow I
look down on the commercial part of our city and have fine opportunities for
seeing what goes on there. It's my business to watch the business men, and =
upon
my word I'm heartily ashamed of them sometimes. During the war they did nob=
ly,
giving their time and money, their sons and selves to the good cause, and I=
was
proud of them. But now too many of them have fallen back into the old ways,=
and
their motto seems to be, 'Every one for himself, and the devil take the
hindmost.' Cheating, lying and stealing are hard words, and I don't mean to
apply them to all who swarm about below there like ants on an ant-hill--they
have other names for these things, but I'm old-fashioned and use plain word=
s.
There's a deal too much dishonesty in the world, and business seems to have
become a game of hazard in which luck, not labor, wins the prize. When I was
young, men were years making moderate fortunes, and were satisfied with the=
m.
They built them on sure foundations, knew how to enjoy them while they live=
d,
and to leave a good name behind them when they died.
"Now it's anything for money; health,
happiness, honor, life itself, are flung down on that great gaming-table, a=
nd
they forget everything else in the excitement of success or the desperation=
of
defeat. Nobody seems satisfied either, for those who win have little time or
taste to enjoy their prosperity, and those who lose have little courage or
patience to support them in adversity. They don't even fail as they used to=
. In
my day when a merchant found himself embarrassed he didn't ruin others in o=
rder
to save himself, but honestly confessed the truth, gave up everything, and
began again. But now-a-days after all manner of dishonorable shifts there c=
omes
a grand crash; many suffer, but by some hocus-pocus the merchant saves enou=
gh
to retire upon and live comfortably here or abroad. It's very evident that
honor and honesty don't mean now what they used to mean in the days of old =
May,
Higginson and Lawrence.
"They preach below here, and very well too
sometimes, for I often slide down the rope to peep and listen during servic=
e.
But, bless you! they don't seem to lay either sermon, psalm or prayer to he=
art,
for while the minister is doing his best, the congregation, tired with the
breathless hurry of the week, sleep peacefully, calculate their chances for=
the
morrow, or wonder which of their neighbors will lose or win in the great ga=
me.
Don't tell me! I've seen them do it, and if I dared I'd have startled every
soul of them with a rousing peal. Ah, they don't dream whose eye is on them,
they never guess what secrets the telegraph wires tell as the messages fly =
by,
and little know what a report I give to the winds of heaven as I ring out a=
bove
them morning, noon, and night." And the old spirit shook his head till=
the
tassel on his cap jangled like a little bell.
"There are some, however, whom I love and
honor," he said, in a benignant tone, "who honestly earn their br=
ead,
who deserve all the success that comes to them, and always keep a warm corn=
er
in their noble hearts for those less blest than they. These are the men who
serve the city in times of peace, save it in times of war, deserve the high=
est
honors in its gift, and leave behind them a record that keeps their memories
green. For such an one we lately tolled a knell, my brothers; and as our un=
ited
voices pealed over the city, in all grateful hearts, sweeter and more solemn
than any chime, rung the words that made him so beloved,--
"'Treat our dead boys tenderly, and send =
them
home to me.'"
He ceased, and all the spirits reverently
uncovered their gray heads as a strain of music floated up from the sleeping
city and died among the stars.
"Like yours, my report is not satisfactor=
y in
all respects," began the second spirit, who wore a very pointed cap an=
d a
finely ornamented cloak. But, though his dress was fresh and youthful, his =
face
was old, and he had nodded several times during his brother's speech. "=
;My
greatest affliction during the past year has been the terrible extravagance
which prevails. My post, as you know, is at the court end of the city, and I
see all the fashionable vices and follies. It is a marvel to me how so many=
of
these immortal creatures, with such opportunities for usefulness,
self-improvement and genuine happiness can be content to go round and round=
in
one narrow circle of unprofitable and unsatisfactory pursuits. I do my best=
to
warn them; Sunday after Sunday I chime in their ears the beautiful old hymns
that sweetly chide or cheer the hearts that truly listen and believe; Sunday
after Sunday I look down on them as they pass in, hoping to see that my wor=
ds
have not fallen upon deaf ears; and Sunday after Sunday they listen to words
that should teach them much, yet seem to go by them like the wind. They are
told to love their neighbor, yet too many hate him because he possesses mor=
e of
this world's goods or honors than they: they are told that a rich man cannot
enter the kingdom of heaven, yet they go on laying up perishable wealth, and
though often warned that moth and rust will corrupt, they fail to believe it
till the worm that destroys enters and mars their own chapel of ease. Being=
a
spirit, I see below external splendor and find much poverty of heart and so=
ul
under the velvet and the ermine which should cover rich and royal natures. =
Our
city saints walk abroad in threadbare suits, and under quiet bonnets shine =
the
eyes that make sunshine in the shady places. Often as I watch the glittering
procession passing to and fro below me. I wonder if, with all our progress,=
there
is to-day as much real piety as in the times when our fathers, poorly clad,
with weapon in one hand and Bible in the other, came weary distances to wor=
ship
in the wilderness with fervent faith unquenched by danger, suffering and
solitude.
"Yet in spite of my fault-finding I love =
my
children, as I call them, for all are not butterflies. Many find wealth no
temptation to forgetfulness of duty or hardness of heart. Many give freely =
of
their abundance, pity the poor, comfort the afflicted, and make our city lo=
ved
and honored in other lands as in our own. They have their cares, losses, and
heartaches as well as the poor; it isn't all sunshine with them, and they
learn, poor souls, that
"'Into each life some rain must fall,
Some
days must be dark and dreary.'"But I've hopes of them, and lately they
have had a teacher so genial, so gifted, so well-beloved that all who liste=
n to
him must be better for the lessons of charity, good-will and cheerfulness w=
hich
he brings home to them by the magic of tears and smiles. We know him, we lo=
ve
him, we always remember him as the year comes round, and the blithest song =
our
brazen tongues utter is a Christmas carol to the Father of 'The Chimes!'&qu=
ot;
As the spirit spoke his voice grew cheery, his=
old
face shone, and in a burst of hearty enthusiasm he flung up his cap and che=
ered
like a boy. So did the others, and as the fairy shout echoed through the be=
lfry
a troop of shadowy figures, with faces lovely or grotesque, tragical or gay,
sailed by on the wings of the wintry wind and waved their hands to the spir=
its
of the bells.
As the excitement subsided and the spirits
reseated themselves, looking ten years younger for that burst, another spok=
e. A
venerable brother in a dingy mantle, with a tuneful voice, and eyes that se=
emed
to have grown sad with looking on much misery.
"He loves the poor, the man we've just
hurrahed for, and he makes others love and remember them, bless him!" =
said
the spirit. "I hope he'll touch the hearts of those who listen to him =
here
and beguile them to open their hands to my unhappy children over yonder. If=
I
could set some of the forlorn souls in my parish beside the happier creatur=
es
who weep over imaginary woes as they are painted by his eloquent lips, that
brilliant scene would be better than any sermon. Day and night I look down =
on
lives as full of sin, self-sacrifice and suffering as any in those famous
books. Day and night I try to comfort the poor by my cheery voice, and to m=
ake
their wants known by proclaiming them with all my might. But people seem to=
be
so intent on business, pleasure or home duties that they have no time to he=
ar
and answer my appeal. There's a deal of charity in this good city, and when=
the
people do wake up they work with a will; but I can't help thinking that if =
some
of the money lavished on luxuries was spent on necessaries for the poor, th=
ere
would be fewer tragedies like that which ended yesterday. It's a short stor=
y,
easy to tell, though long and hard to live; listen to it.
"Down yonder in the garret of one of the
squalid houses at the foot of my tower, a little girl has lived for a year,
fighting silently and single-handed a good fight against poverty and sin. I=
saw
her when she first came, a hopeful, cheerful, brave-hearted little soul, al=
one,
yet not afraid. She used to sit all day sewing at her window, and her lamp
burnt far into the night, for she was very poor, and all she earned would
barely give her food and shelter. I watched her feed the doves, who seemed =
to
be her only friends; she never forgot them, and daily gave them the few cru=
mbs
that fell from her meagre table. But there was no kind hand to feed and fos=
ter
the little human dove, and so she starved.
"For a while she worked bravely, but the =
poor
three dollars a week would not clothe and feed and warm her, though the thi=
ngs
her busy fingers made sold for enough to keep her comfortably if she had
received it. I saw the pretty color fade from her cheeks; her eyes grew hol=
low,
her voice lost its cheery ring, her step its elasticity, and her face began=
to
wear the haggard, anxious look that made its youth doubly pathetic. Her poor
little gowns grew shabby, her shawl so thin she shivered when the pitiless =
wind
smote her, and her feet were almost bare. Rain and snow beat on the patient
little figure going to and fro, each morning with hope and courage faintly
shining, each evening with the shadow of despair gathering darker round her=
. It
was a hard time for all, desperately hard for her, and in her poverty, sin =
and
pleasure tempted her. She resisted, but as another bitter winter came she
feared that in her misery she might yield, for body and soul were weakened =
now
by the long struggle. She knew not where to turn for help; there seemed to =
be
no place for her at any safe and happy fireside; life's hard aspect daunted
her, and she turned to death, saying confidingly, 'Take me while I'm innoce=
nt
and not afraid to go.'
"I saw it all! I saw how she sold everyth=
ing
that would bring money and paid her little debts to the utmost penny; how s=
he
set her poor room in order for the last time; how she tenderly bade the dov=
es
good-by, and lay down on her bed to die. At nine o'clock last night as my b=
ell
rang over the city, I tried to tell what was going on in the garret where t=
he
light was dying out so fast. I cried to them with all my strength.--
"'Kind souls, below there! a fellow-creat=
ure
is perishing for lack of charity! Oh, help her before it is too late! Mothe=
rs,
with little daughters on your knees, stretch out your hands and take her in!
Happy women, in the safe shelter of home, think of her desolation! Rich men,
who grind the faces of the poor, remember that this soul will one day be
required of you! Dear Lord, let not this little sparrow fall to the ground!
Help, Christian men and women, in the name of Him whose birthday blessed the
world!'
"Ah me! I rang, and clashed, and cried in
vain. The passers-by only said, as they hurried home, laden with Christmas
cheer: 'The old bell is merry to-night, as it should be at this blithe seas=
on,
bless it!'
"As the clocks struck ten, the poor child=
lay
down, saying, as she drank the last bitter draught life could give her, 'It=
's
very cold, but soon I shall not feel it;' and with her quiet eyes fixed on =
the
cross that glimmered in the moonlight above me, she lay waiting for the sle=
ep
that needs no lullaby.
"As the clock struck eleven, pain and pov=
erty
for her were over. It was bitter cold, but she no longer felt it. She lay
serenely sleeping, with tired heart and hands, at rest forever. As the cloc=
ks
struck twelve, the dear Lord remembered her, and with fatherly hand led her
into the home where there is room for all. To-day I rung her knell, and tho=
ugh
my heart was heavy, yet my soul was glad; for in spite of all her human woe=
and
weakness, I am sure that little girl will keep a joyful Christmas up in
heaven."
In the silence which the spirits for a moment
kept, a breath of softer air than any from the snowy world below swept thro=
ugh
the steeple and seemed to whisper, "Yes!"
"Avast there! fond as I am of salt water,=
I
don't like this kind," cried the breezy voice of the fourth spirit, who
had a tiny ship instead of a tassel on his cap, and who wiped his wet eyes =
with
the sleeve of his rough blue cloak. "It won't take me long to spin my
yarn; for things are pretty taut and ship-shape aboard our craft. Captain
Taylor is an experienced sailor, and has brought many a ship safely into po=
rt
in spite of wind and tide, and the devil's own whirlpools and hurricanes. If
you want to see earnestness come aboard some Sunday when the Captain's on t=
he
quarter-deck, and take an observation. No danger of falling asleep there, no
more than there is up aloft, 'when the stormy winds do blow.' Consciences g=
et
raked fore and aft, sins are blown clean out of the water, false colors are
hauled down and true ones run up to the masthead, and many an immortal soul=
is
warned to steer off in time from the pirates, rocks and quicksands of
temptation. He's a regular revolving light, is the Captain,--a beacon always
burning and saying plainly, 'Here are life-boats, ready to put off in all
weathers and bring the shipwrecked into quiet waters.' He comes but seldom =
now,
being laid up in the home dock, tranquilly waiting till his turn comes to go
out with the tide and safely ride at anchor in the great harbor of the Lord.
Our crew varies a good deal. Some of 'em have rather rough voyages, and come
into port pretty well battered; land-sharks fall foul of a good many, and d=
o a
deal of damage; but most of 'em carry brave and tender hearts under the blue
jackets, for their rough nurse, the sea, manages to keep something of the c=
hild
alive in the grayest old tar that makes the world his picture-book. We try =
to
supply 'em with life-preservers while at sea, and make 'em feel sure of a
hearty welcome when ashore, and I believe the year '67 will sail away into
eternity with a satisfactory cargo. Brother North-End made me pipe my eye; =
so
I'll make him laugh to pay for it, by telling a clerical joke I heard the o=
ther
day. Bellows didn't make it, though he might have done so, as he's a connec=
tion
of ours, and knows how to use his tongue as well as any of us. Speaking of =
the
bells of a certain town, a reverend gentleman affirmed that each bell utter=
ed
an appropriate remark so plainly, that the words were audible to all. The
Baptist bell cried, briskly, 'Come up and be dipped! come up and be dipped!'
The Episcopal bell slowly said, 'Apos-tol-ic suc-cess-ion! apos-tol-ic
suc-cess-ion!' The Orthodox bell solemnly pronounced, 'Eternal damnation!
eternal damnation!' and the Methodist shouted, invitingly, 'Room for all! r=
oom
for all!'"
As the spirit imitated the various calls, as o=
nly
a jovial bell-sprite could, the others gave him a chime of laughter, and vo=
wed
they would each adopt some tuneful summons, which should reach human ears a=
nd
draw human feet more willingly to church.
"Faith, brother, you've kept your word and
got the laugh out of us," cried a stout, sleek spirit, with a kindly f=
ace,
and a row of little saints round his cap and a rosary at his side. "It=
's
very well we are doing this year; the cathedral is full, the flock increasi=
ng,
and the true faith holding its own entirely. Ye may shake your heads if you
will and fear there'll be trouble, but I doubt it. We've warm hearts of our
own, and the best of us don't forget that when we were starving, America--t=
he
saints bless the jewel!--sent us bread; when we were dying for lack of work,
America opened her arms and took us in, and now helps us to build churches,
homes and schools by giving us a share of the riches all men work for and w=
in.
It's a generous nation ye are, and a brave one, and we showed our gratitude=
by
fighting for ye in the day of trouble and giving ye our Phil, and many anot=
her
broth of a boy. The land is wide enough for us both, and while we work and
fight and grow together, each may learn something from the other. I'm free =
to
confess that your religion looks a bit cold and hard to me, even here in the
good city where each man may ride his own hobby to death, and hoot at his
neighbors as much as he will. You seem to keep your piety shut up all the w=
eek
in your bare, white churches, and only let it out on Sundays, just a trifle
musty with disuse. You set your rich, warm and soft to the fore, and leave =
the
poor shivering at the door. You give your people bare walls to look upon,
common-place music to listen to, dull sermons to put them asleep, and then
wonder why they stay away, or take no interest when they come.
"We leave our doors open day and night; o=
ur
lamps are always burning, and we may come into our Father's house at any ho=
ur.
We let rich and poor kneel together, all being equal there. With us abroad
you'll see prince and peasant side by side, school-boy and bishop, market-w=
oman
and noble lady, saint and sinner, praying to the Holy Mary, whose motherly =
arms
are open to high and low. We make our churches inviting with immortal music,
pictures by the world's great masters, and rites that are splendid symbols =
of
the faith we hold. Call it mummery if ye like, but let me ask you why so ma=
ny
of your sheep stray into our fold? It's because they miss the warmth, the
hearty, the maternal tenderness which all souls love and long for, and fail=
to
find in your stern. Puritanical belief. By Saint Peter! I've seen many a
lukewarm worshipper, who for years has nodded in your cushioned pews, wake =
and
glow with something akin to genuine piety while kneeling on the stone pavem=
ent
of one of our cathedrals, with Raphael's angels before his eyes, with strai=
ns
of magnificent music in his ears, and all about him, in shapes of power or
beauty, the saints and martyrs who have saved the world, and whose presence
inspires him to follow their divine example. It's not complaining of ye I a=
m,
but just reminding ye that men are but children after all, and need more
tempting to virtue than they do to vice, which last comes easy to 'em since=
the
Fall. Do your best in your own ways to get the poor souls into bliss, and g=
ood
luck to ye. But remember, there's room in the Holy Mother Church for all, a=
nd
when your own priests send ye to the divil, come straight to us and we'll t=
ake
ye in."
"A truly Catholic welcome, bull and
all," said the sixth spirit, who, in spite of his old-fashioned garmen=
ts,
had a youthful face, earnest, fearless eyes, and an energetic voice that wo=
ke
the echoes with its vigorous tones. "I've a hopeful report, brothers, =
for
the reforms of the day are wheeling into rank and marching on. The war isn't
over nor rebeldom conquered yet, but the Old Guard has been 'up and at 'em'
through the year. There has been some hard fighting, rivers of ink have flo=
wed,
and the Washington dawdlers have signalized themselves by a 'masterly
inactivity.' The political campaign has been an anxious one; some of the
leaders have deserted; some been mustered out; some have fallen gallantly, =
and
as yet have received no monuments. But at the Grand Review the Cross of the
Legion of Honor will surely shine on many a brave breast that won no decora=
tion
but its virtue here; for the world's fanatics make heaven's heroes, poets s=
ay.
"The flock of Nightingales that flew South
during the 'winter of our discontent' are all at home again, some here and =
some
in Heaven. But the music of their womanly heroism still lingers in the nati=
on's
memory, and makes a tender minor-chord in the battle-hymn of freedom.
"The reform in literature isn't as vigoro=
us
as I could wish; but a sharp attack of mental and moral dyspepsia will soon
teach our people that French confectionery and the bad pastry of Wood, Brac=
don,
Yates & Co. is not the best diet for the rising generation.
"Speaking of the rising generation remind=
s me
of the schools. They are doing well; they always are, and we are justly pro=
ud
of them. There may be a slight tendency toward placing too much value upon
book-learning; too little upon home culture. Our girls are acknowledged to =
be
uncommonly pretty, witty and wise, but some of us wish they had more health=
and
less excitement, more domestic accomplishments and fewer ologies and isms, =
and
were contented with simple pleasures and the old-fashioned virtues, and not
quite so fond of the fast, frivolous life that makes them old so soon. I am
fond of our girls and boys. I love to ring for their christenings and
marriages, to toll proudly for the brave lads in blue, and tenderly for the
innocent creatures whose seats are empty under my old roof. I want to see t=
hem
anxious to make Young America a model of virtue, strength and beauty, and I
believe they will in time.
"There have been some important revivals =
in
religion; for the world won't stand still, and we must keep pace or be left
behind to fossilize. A free nation must have a religion broad enough to emb=
race
all mankind, deep enough to fathom and fill the human soul, high enough to
reach the source of all love and wisdom, and pure enough to satisfy the wis=
est
and the best. Alarm bells have been rung, anathemas pronounced, and Christi=
ans,
forgetful of their creed, have abused one another heartily. But the truth
always triumphs in the end, and whoever sincerely believes, works and waits=
for
it, by whatever name he calls it, will surely find his own faith blessed to=
him
in proportion to his charity for the faith of others.
"But look!--the first red streaks of dawn=
are
in the East. Our vigil is over, and we must fly home to welcome in the
holidays. Before we part, join with me, brothers, in resolving that through=
the
coming year we will with all our hearts and tongues,--
"'Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring
out the false, ring in the true;
Ring
in the valiant man and free,
Ring
in the Christ that is to be.'"Then hand in hand the spirits of the bel=
ls
floated away, singing in the hush of dawn the sweet song the stars sung over
Bethlehem,--"Peace on earth, good will to men."