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+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
+    <title>
+      The Promise of the Bell | Project Gutenberg
+    </title>
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+/* Poetry */
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+    </style>
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+
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75219 ***</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 85%">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover">
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center no-indent fs80">COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY AGNES REPPLIER</p>
+
+<p class="center no-indent fs80">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+<p class="center no-indent fs80"><span class="bold">The Riverside Press</span><br>
+CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS<br>
+PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.
+</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h1>THE PROMISE OF THE BELL</h1>
+
+<p class="center no-indent bold fs120 wsp">Christmas in Philadelphia</p>
+<br>
+<p class="center no-indent wsp"><span class="fs80">By</span><br>
+<span class="fs120">Agnes Repplier</span><br>
+<br>
+
+<span class="fs80">With Illustrations by</span><br>
+John Wolcott Adams</p>
+<br>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp15" id="title" style="max-width: 15em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/title.jpg" alt="Bell">
+</figure>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+<p class="center no-indent wsp">
+<span class="fs80">BOSTON AND NEW YORK</span><br>
+<span class="fs120">HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY</span><br>
+<span class="bold">The Riverside Press Cambridge</span><br>
+1924</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp85" id="frontis" style="max-width: 45.1875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption">
+<p class="right">
+JWA<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="center no-indent">THE OLD TOWER OF INDEPENDENCE HALL
+WHERE RANG THE LIBERTY BELL</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p>
+
+<p class="center no-indent fs150 wsp">THE<br>
+PROMISE OF THE BELL</p>
+
+<h2>Christmas in Philadelphia</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="no-indent">When from the wooden steeple of the Philadelphia
+State House (the Nation’s birthplace, and the most
+sacred spot on American soil) the Liberty Bell rang
+out its message of freedom “throughout the land,” it
+did more than proclaim the Declaration of Independence,
+and it did more than summon the colonists
+to defend that independence with their lives. It
+promised them in a beautiful and borrowed phrase the
+reward of their valour. It affirmed their inalienable
+right to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”;
+thus linking with bare existence two things which
+give it worth, thus striving to ennoble and embellish
+the length of years which lie between man’s cradle
+and his grave.</p>
+
+<p>Never was phrase more profoundly English or more
+profoundly Greek in its rational conception of values.
+It means a vast deal more than the privilege of casting
+a ballot, which privilege has been always praised and
+glorified beyond its deserts. “The liberty to discover
+and pursue a natural happiness,” says Santayana,
+“the liberty to grow wise, and live in friendship with
+the gods and with one another, was the liberty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span>
+vindicated by the martyrdom of Thermopylæ, and by
+the victory of Salamis.” It is also the liberty which
+England has always prized and cherished, and which
+has promoted the thoroughly English qualities of
+“solidity and sense, independence of judgment, and
+idiosyncrasy of temperament.” To the colonists it
+opened a fair vista, a widening of their somewhat restricted
+horizon, a very definite and shining goal, well
+worth their resolute endeavour.</p>
+
+<p>When on the 23d of October, 1781, three hours before
+sunrise, a watchman called through the quiet
+streets of Philadelphia, “Past three o’clock, and Lord
+Cornwallis is taken,” the city awoke to a refreshing
+sense of safety and exhilaration. The war was not
+over; but victory was assured, and, with it, life and
+liberty. There remained the pursuit of happiness, and
+it was undertaken in good faith, and without undue delay.
+A sober and sedate community, kept in order by
+Quaker dominance, Philadelphians had always shown
+a singular capacity for enjoying themselves when they
+had the chance. They had danced twelve hours at the
+Mischianza,—a notable achievement. They had
+promoted horse-racing, condoned bull-baiting, and
+had been “decently drunk” from time to time at
+punch parties on the river. Now, deeming pleasure
+to be one approach to happiness, they opened the old
+Southwark theatre, which had led a life of sore
+vicissitudes, rechristened it cautiously the Academy
+of Polite Science, and gave a performance of Beaumarchais’s
+“Eugénie,” in honour of Washington, who
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>graced the occasion with his presence. He was escorted
+to his box by attendants bearing wax candles in silver
+candlesticks, a deferential courtesy which made him
+distinctly and desirably visible to the audience in the
+dimly lit theatre.</p>
+<br>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp85" id="i_005" style="max-width: 34.1875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_005.jpg" alt="Soldier">
+</figure>
+<br>
+
+<p>Nothing in the way of entertainment came amiss to
+people whose hearts were at ease, and who were unspoiled
+by wealth or poverty. They went to Washington’s
+rigidly formal receptions. They danced as gaily,
+if not as long, at the Assembly balls, and at the less
+august tradesmen’s balls, as they had danced at the
+Mischianza and at the Fête du Dauphin. They dined
+well with such hosts as Robert Morris and William
+Bingham. They opened hospitable doors to strangers,
+who sometimes thought them dull; “the men grave,
+the women serious,” wrote Brissot de Warville in
+1788. They feasted on Christmas Day, and they built
+bonfires on the Fourth of July. They rode to hounds.
+They began the long career of parades and processions
+which have always been dear to the city’s heart, and
+which the famous New Year Mummers have by now
+carried to the wonder point of gaiety, brilliancy, and
+burlesque.</p>
+
+<p>Eating and drinking were the fundamentals of enjoyment
+in the Quaker town, as they have been in all
+cities and in all ages of the world. But it was eating
+and drinking relished “as the sane and exhilarating
+basis of everything else”; and its most precious asset
+was companionship. When the Chevalier de Luzerne
+drank twelve cups of tea during the course of a winter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span>
+afternoon call upon Mrs. Robert Morris, it was not
+because he doted on the beverage. No Frenchman
+has ever shared Dr. Johnson’s passion for tea. It was
+for love of the warm brightly lit rooms (warm rooms
+were no everyday indulgence in the era of open fires
+and Franklin stoves), and for love of his agreeable
+hostess, and of the animated and purposeful conversation.
+When John Adams “drank Madeira at a
+great rate” at the house of Chief Justice Chew, “and
+found no inconvenience in it,” it was not because he
+was a tippler; but because the generous wine quieted
+his anxious thoughts, and stimulated him to match
+mind with mind in the sympathetic society of his
+friends.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, the drinking of Madeira was in the nature of
+a ceremonial rite. Even in the days of Penn no serious
+business was enacted, no compact sealed, no social
+gathering complete without this glass of wine. It
+signified good-fellowship and good-will; and when
+Penn returned to England for the last time, he left his
+little store of wine in the cellar of the Letitia House
+“for the use and entertainment of strangers,” which
+was a gracious thing to do.</p>
+
+<p>According to Dr. Weir Mitchell, Philadelphia was
+famous for its Madeira, which, being a temperamental
+wine, throve best in that serene atmosphere, and in
+the careful hands of Philadelphians. It was kept by
+preference in demijohns, and lived in moderate darkness
+under the roof, where it “accumulated virtues
+like a hermit.” For seventy years—the allotted<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>
+years of man—it could be trusted to acquire merit.
+After that period, it began—like man—to deteriorate.
+When its owner was compelled by circumstance
+to house it in the cellar, it was suffered to rest and revive
+for a day or two in a warm room on its way to the
+dining-table; and the bottles were carried with infinite
+tenderness lest the wine be bruised in the transit. A
+crust of bread was placed by every glass to “clean the
+palate” before drinking. Elizabeth Robins Pennell
+tells us that, in her grandfather’s old-fashioned household,
+Madeira was the wine of ceremony, dedicated to
+the rites of hospitality, sacred to the stranger, to
+whom it was offered like the bread and salt of the
+Arab, and with whom it established (if the stranger
+knew anything about wine) a bond of sympathy and
+understanding.</p>
+
+<p>When in the winter of 1799 the directors of the
+Mutual or “Green Tree” Assurance Company were
+holding their annual dinner, word was brought them
+of Washington’s death. They charged their glasses,
+rose to their feet, and gravely drank to his memory.
+In the century and a quarter which have intervened
+since then, the rite has been yearly repeated. Even
+to-day, though the toast may no longer be drunk, the
+diners rise, the words are spoken, and the dead leader
+is honoured by the living.</p>
+<br>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp85" id="i_009" style="max-width: 38.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_009.jpg" alt="People eating at a table">
+</figure>
+<br>
+
+<p>How cordial, how dignified, how intelligent was this
+hospitality practised by men who were pursuing
+happiness along tranquil and rational lines! How
+immaculately free from the grossness of Georgian
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span>drunkenness, and from the grossness of Victorian
+gluttony! It is true that boned turkey and terrapin
+were making their way to tables where wild ducks and
+venison had always been plentiful, and where dairy
+products, made perfect by practice, were admittedly
+the finest in the land. But it was companionship and
+conversation, “the liberty to grow wise and live in
+friendship with one another,” which citizens prized,
+and which strangers recognized and remembered.
+Philadelphia, said the poet Moore, was the only American
+city in which he felt tempted to linger. It was the
+silver talk, alternating with golden silence, which
+made the nights speed by when friend met friend, and
+the wreckage of years was forgotten.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">“<em>And the men that were boys when I was a boy</em></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1"><em>Shall sit and drink with me.</em>”</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The Wistar parties were born naturally into a world
+where social intercourse was pleasant and esteemed.
+First a few friends dropped casually in upon Dr.
+Caspar Wistar, and sat by his fire on winter nights.
+Then he asked a few more. By 1811 the custom was
+an established one, and every Saturday night Dr.
+Wistar entertained his guests, among them any
+foreigners of distinction who chanced to be visiting
+Philadelphia. His house at Fourth and Prune Streets
+was spacious; the supper he provided was simple and
+sufficient. In 1818 he died, and his friends wisely
+resolved to perpetuate his name by perpetuating his
+hospitality. A hundred years is a respectable age for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>
+any social observance to reach in the United States;
+but Philadelphians reckon such things by centuries.
+Their tenacity in clinging to old customs, and maintaining
+them unchanged, is a valiant and poignant
+protest against the ills done to their town by modernity.</p>
+
+<p>For more than any other American city, Philadelphia
+has suffered the loss of her comeliness, a comeliness
+that was very dear to those who first heard the
+promise of the Bell. “After our cares for the necessities
+of life are over,” said the wise Franklin, “we shall
+come to think of its embellishments.” In the pursuit
+of a rational happiness, Philadelphians devoted time,
+thought, and money to the embellishment of their
+daily lives. They had an unerring taste in architecture
+and decoration. Their portraits were painted by
+good artists, Peale and Stuart and Sully. Trim
+gardens lent brilliancy of colour to their handsome,
+sober homes. They made of “Faire Mount” hill a
+thing of beauty, a little spot of classic grace and charm,
+which artists loved, and politicians ruthlessly destroyed—perhaps
+because it was the only thing in
+the nature of an eminence to break the level surface
+on which Penn laid out his checkerboard town.</p>
+
+<p>To the casual visitor of to-day, Philadelphia seems
+an ugly and shabby city, set in the fields of Paradise.
+Surroundings of exceptional loveliness have lured the
+town-dweller from his narrow streets, from soot and
+grime and perpetual racket, to pursue happiness in
+the clean and composed life of the country. And as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span>
+more and more citizens seek every year this method
+of escape, the abandoned city grows more and more
+downcast and forlorn. It is to be forever regretted
+that its oldest streets, lined with houses of unsurpassable
+dignity, should have degenerated into filthy
+slums, where an alien population violates every
+tradition of reticence and propriety. Christ Church,
+Gloria Dei, and Saint Peter’s still stand inviolate,
+keeping their dirty neighbours at arm’s length with
+green churchyards and cherished slips of lawn. Indeed,
+churchyards, which were once in disfavour,
+have come to be highly commended. They interpose
+their undesecrated neatness between many an ancient
+place of worship and its elbowing associates.</p>
+
+<p>To the visitor who is not casual, to a few careful
+observers like Mrs. Pennell and Christopher Morley,
+and to those Philadelphians who love her pavements
+better than turf, and her brick walls better than trees,
+Penn’s city has a charm which enterprise and immigrant
+are equally powerless to destroy. It is a beauty
+faded with years, and dimmed by neglect, and it lies
+hidden away in quiet nooks and corners; but none the
+less is it apparent to the eye of the artist and the
+antiquarian. The Bell, the joyous, old Liberty Bell,
+is, indeed, housed with appropriate splendour. It has
+been carried over the country in a series of triumphant
+processions, and many thousands of Americans have
+greeted it with reverence. But the deepening fissure
+in its side now calls imperatively for rest; and Independence
+Hall—a remarkably agreeable example of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>colonial architecture—is the Mecca of patriotic
+pilgrims. All the year round they come to look upon
+the room where the Declaration of Independence was
+signed, and upon the Bell which rang its message to
+the land.</p>
+<br>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp85" id="i_013" style="max-width: 38.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i_013.jpg" alt="Fancy old-fashioned party">
+</figure>
+<br>
+
+<p>To-day that message rings the knell of the past, and
+the deathless promise of the future:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">“<em>Tho’ much is taken, much abides.</em>”</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="no-indent">Life, though it is beset by greater perils; liberty,
+though it is restricted by an excess of legislation; and
+the pursuit of happiness, though it is turned into new,
+and possibly nobler, channels. The old society “in
+which men looked up without envy or malice, and
+even found life richer from the thought that there
+were degrees of excellency and honour,” has been replaced
+by a society in which perpetual change has
+bred dissatisfaction and insecurity. But more clearly
+than before the note of a real Democracy, of a sense
+of comradeship, of a natural, cheerful, irresponsible
+interest in one another, has been struck in what was
+once the City of Brotherly Love. It gives to Christmas
+something which earlier Christmases never knew;
+a coming-together of people whose lives are, by force
+of circumstance, apart, a closing-in of circles which
+are commonly and necessarily remote.</p>
+
+<p>For a week before the feast, the great pioneer department
+store of America sets aside a half-hour in
+the morning and a half-hour at dusk for community
+singing of Christmas hymns and carols. The rush of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>
+business is suspended, the giant organ peals forth the
+familiar strains, and men, women, and children,
+crowded into every inch of available space, sing with
+all their might, “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen,”
+“Come, All Ye Faithful,” and “While Shepherds
+Watch’d Their Flocks by Night.” Nobody claims the
+sounds they make are beautiful; but nobody denies
+they are inspiriting.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">“<em>If unmelodious was the song,</em></div>
+    <div class="verse indent1"><em>It was a hearty note, and strong.</em>”</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="no-indent">People who surge around counters to do their Christmas
+shopping are indifferent, not to say inimical, to
+one another; but people who stand shoulder to
+shoulder singing the same words are impelled by the
+force of crowd psychology to good feeling and mutual
+understanding.</p>
+
+<p>Charity is an old, old virtue, and Christmas has always
+been its sacred season; but it is not charity which
+now makes the householder put Christmas candles in
+his windows, to give the passer-by a sense of recognition
+and intimacy. It is not charity which rears the
+great municipal Christmas Tree for all the town to
+see, or provides the great municipal concert on Christmas
+Eve for all the town to hear—and join in if it
+pleases. It is not charity which lights the “Community
+Christmas Trees” on country roads, and leaves
+them shining softly in the darkness as a reminder of
+good-will. It is not charity which sends little groups
+of men and women, accompanied by a sober deaconess<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>
+to sing carols in the few quiet streets which Philadelphia
+has preserved unspoiled. These singers ask for
+no recompense. They are forging a link in the bond
+of healthy human emotions. They are adding their
+share to the little intimacies of the world.</p>
+
+<p>“Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” “Inalienable
+rights” the Signers termed them, which yet
+have never been without assailants. What strange
+vicissitudes the Bell has witnessed, and what strange
+meanings have been read into its message! But its
+promise still holds good. If we never grow wise as the
+Greeks grew wise, if we never lay hold of the “natural
+happiness” which is the birthright of Englishmen, we
+may yet surpass Greece and England in the grace of
+friendship. It will be something different from friendship
+with our friends; it will be friendship with our
+neighbours. It will be—I hope—disunited from
+duty, and composed of simple, durable materials,—tolerance,
+good-nature, and a sweet reasonableness of
+approach. It will read a generous meaning into
+qualities which are common to all of us, displeasing
+to most of us, and intelligible only to the wide-eyed
+few who interpret the heart of humanity.
+</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75219 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
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