Allegories of Life

Allegories of Life

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Title: Allegories of Life
Author: Mrs. J. S. Adams
Release Date: May 24, 2005 [EBook #15895]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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Allegories of Life
BY MRS. J. S. ADAMS
1872

CONTENTS.
I. THE BELLS
II. THE HEIGHT
III. THE PILGRIM

IV. FAITH
V. HOPE
VI. JOY AND SORROW
VII. UPWARD
VIII. THE OAK
IX. TRUTH AND ERROR
X. THE TREE
XI. THE TWO WAYS
XII. THE URNS
XIII. SELF-EXERTION
XIV. THE VINES
XV. IN THE WORLD
XVI. FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY
XVII. GOING FORTH
XVIII. THE FEAST
XIX. THE LESSON OF THE STONE
XX. THE SEEDS
XXI. ONLY GOLD
XXII. THE SACRIFICE
XXIII. STRANGERS

I.
THE BELLS.
In the steeple of an old church was a beautiful chime of bells, which for
many years had rung out joyous peals at the touch of the sexton's hand
upon the rope.
"I'll make the air full of music to-morrow," said the white-haired man,
as he lay down to his slumbers. "To-morrow is Christmas, and the
people shall be glad and gay. Ah, yes! right merry will be the chimes I
shall ring them." Soon sleep gathered him in a close embrace, and
visions of the morrow's joy flitted over his brain.
At midnight some dark clouds swept over the tower, while darker
shadows of discontent fell on the peaceful chime.
Hark! what was that? A low, discordant sound was heard among the
bells.
"Here we have been ringing for seven long years," murmured the
highest bell in the chime.

"Well, what of it? That's what we are placed here for," said a voice
from one of the deeper-toned bells.
"But I have rung long enough. Besides, I am weary of always singing
one tone," answered the high bell, in a clear, sharp voice.
"Together we make sweetest harmony," returned the bell next the
complainer.
"I well know that, but I am tired of my one tone, while you can bear
monotony. For my part, I do not mean to answer to the call of the rope
to-morrow."
"What! not ring on Christmas Day!" exclaimed all the bells together.
"No, I don't. You may exclaim as much as you please; but, if you had
common sympathy, you would see in a moment how weary I am of
singing this one high tone."
"But we all have to give our notes," responded a low, sweet-voiced
bell.
"That's just what I mean to change. We are all weary of our notes, and
need change."
"But we should have to be recast," said the low-toned bell, sadly.
"Most certainly we should. I should like the fun of that. Now how
many of you will be silent in the morning when the old sexton comes to
ring us?"
"I will," answered the lowest-toned bell, boldly.
"If part of us are silent and refuse to ring, of what use will the rest be?"
said one who had remained quiet until then. "For a chime all of us are
needed," she added, sadly.
"That's just the point," remarked the leader. "If all will be still, none
will be blamed: the people will think we are worn out and need making
over. So we shall be taken down from this tower where we have been
so long, and stand a chance of seeing something of the world. For my
part, I am tired to death of being up here, and seeing nothing but this
quiet valley."
A murmur ran from one to another, till all agreed to be silent on the
morrow, though many of the chime would have preferred to ring as
usual.
The man who had presented the bells to the church returned at midnight,
after a long journey to his native valley, bringing with him a friend,
almost solely to hear the beautiful chime on the morrow.

As he passed the church, on his way home, the murmuring of the bells
was just ceasing. "The wind moves them--the beautiful bells," he said.
"But to-morrow you shall hear how sweet they will sing," he added,
casting a loving glance up to the tower where hung the bells.
A few miles from the valley, close to the roadside, stood a cottage
inhabited by a man and wife whose only child was fast fading from the
world.
"Raise me up a