In the ancient city of Speyer, there were in olden times two great bells. Neither one of these was ever rung by human hands, but it is said that an angel came down from Heaven at night to ring one of these bells whenever a person died.

One of the bells was of iron. It was rung whenever the soul of a sinful person took its flight. The other bell was of pure silver. It had been placed in the tower by a baron. He had erected it with the understanding that it should never be rung until there came a person who really loved his fellow men.

When this bell was erected it was muffled by many bands, so that it could give forth no sound until it had been placed carefully in the tower.

It was agreed also, that if no person who truly loved his fellow men should be found within the space of thirty-three years, the bell should forever remain silent. It was to be a witness against the unkindness of men.

The thirty-three years were now almost completed, and no one had been found in the whole country of whom it could be said that he unselfishly loved his fellows. Many kind deeds had been done; many brave and noble services had been performed; but when examined closely, there always seemed to be some selfish motive behind them.

The people of the valley had looked longingly day after day at this bell, and had hoped and prayed that some one might appear for whom the bell could be rung. All longed to hear its silver sound. It was said to give forth the most enchanting music. But the summers and winters came and went.

The young people who had seen the bell placed in the tower had grown old. They had waited and waited, and hope began to sink in their hearts. They began to think that they should never hear the sound of the silver bell.

An awful pestilence broke out in the land. There was no one who knew how to save the wretched people. Gloom settled down over the whole city. It seemed to be threatened with utter destruction.

Again there were deeds of mercy done; again hearts bled with sympathy for their fellows; again people strove to find out someone who was truly unselfish in his charity. But upon examination it was found that people pitied their friends, and neglected their enemies. They wept for those near them, but were thoughtless of those whom they did not know. Fathers and mothers were brave to protect their own children, but careless about the children of other people. So, though there were many noble deeds done, it was found that they were not the result of a deep love for mankind in general.During all this time the iron bell rang almost continually. It rang by day, and it rang by night, until hope and cheerfulness were gone, and despair and fear settled down upon every household.

The King of this land was a handsome youth, who had just come to the throne. He had always had everything that his heart could desire; and was not trained to bear hardships or to sympathize with the suffering of others. No one hoped to find comfort in him, or relief from despair.

At night, however, when the city was sunk to its fitful rest, this young king knelt in prayer for the poor and the wretched, and then rose to answer his prayer by his own hand. With food and clothes he loaded his horse and went forth alone through the city, disguised as a peasant.

Night after night he passed through the dark and wretched streets, carrying his treasures to distribute among the poor. From evening until daybreak he labored alone to relieve the suffering of his people. Then as the last shadows fled he returned to his palace gate.

The people at last began to hope that a truly unselfish soul had appeared. They had, however, very little time to think of this matter or of the silver bell because of their wretchedness. The thought, however, that there was some one to care for them was a source of comfort to many. Joy was awakened in their hearts, and joy brought strength to them, until at last people returned to forge and field to perform their usual labors.

The man, however, who had come to them in their need had remained concealed. No one had found out or even suspected who he was. Many thought that an angel had come to them. Many others believed that it was the work of some good soul, and hoped to find out who it was. They began to believe that the silver bell might yet be rung.At last they went to the king and besought him to issue a proclamation, in order that he might find out the person who had bestowed so many bounties upon them.

“Surely,” they said, “a truly unselfish soul has been among us, although we know not who he is.”

“My good people,” replied the king, “be contented. Should it not be enough that God has sent his servant to you in the hour of your need?”

“This king,” they murmured, “in his wealth and power, enjoying the blessings of youth, has not known what we have suffered, and therefore cannot appreciate our gratitude. While we were starving in our hovels, he was sitting in his castle, quaffing wine. We can expect nothing from him.”

“At least,” clamored others, “let the great bell be rung, for the thirty-three years are now almost over. We shall never hear its notes of gladness unless it be rung today.”

“No,” replied the king still, “but if you will, go and pray that the Lord may send His angel down to ring the bell, if in His perfect knowledge he sees a being who is worthy of the honor.”

That night many people waited before the church, praying that God in His goodness might send a spirit from on high to ring the silver bell.

The night slowly passed away, and lo, the sun’s first rays were just about to come up over the mountains. Suddenly the sun seemed to pause; the dusk continued. Then there came, as it were, a splendor from the clouds, the brightness of which rested on the church and its tower. The waiting multitude all looked up in astonishment. The bell began to peal. It sent forth its angelic notes—notes such as no human being had ever heard before. The waiting people were enraptured. It seemed to them as if all the Heavenly Host were singing for joy.

The song of the bell was of peace and good will toward men. The sounds echoed and re-echoed among the mountains, and were borne away to the farthest valleys.

Just as the first light of the sun peeped up over the horizon, the splendors faded from the tower and in their stead there appeared the figure of a man clad in light. Across the tower there seemed to be a row of letters. The people looked up and read: “Behold, the man who loved truly his fellow men.”

Then everyone fell to his knees, for there stood the figure of their King. Their hearts died within them, when they remembered how harshly they had spoken of him: but they rejoiced at the same time to know that it was he. They all rose up and went in haste to honor him whom they had scorned of late.

When they reached the palace gate, however, they were not permitted to enter. The angel who had rung the bell had entered the palace before them, and had taken away with him the imperial soul that had unselfishly loved his fellow men.