S. Margaret Fuller, "The Liberty Bell," Liberty Bell (1846)

Transcribed from pages 80-88 of the Liberty Bell, for the year 1846.

It was a legend of Germany, that, in the time when the faith of Christendom was lively, and her heart aspiring to be devout, if she had not sufficient clearness of mental view to avoid great mistakes as to the way, a certain society of knights had vowed, with the straitest vow, their service to the oppressed in every part of their country. And so faithful was their adherence to this vow, that Heaven took them under its especial care and allowed them supernatural assistance, that they might multiply good deeds more and more. In their chapel hung a bell, whose silver blazonry chronicled the acts of many who had imitated their Master not only in purity and self-denial, but, also, in active benevolence towards their fellow-men. Its silver sound was, in itself, almost a prayer. It was a beautiful and solemn sight when this sound called many votaries to kneel before the altar. The soft light, that fell through windows painted with figures of saints and angels already admitted to the joys of perfect obedience and intelligent ministry, gave to view faces which showed a kindred spirit, a spirit that could never rest or dally on the upward path to the mount of Salvation, that craved the nearest approach to the sun and stars, the purest, if the coldest, atmosphere which the human frame is able to bear. There was the gray haired man, whose features were marked by a thousand characters that told of noble deeds achieved, or failures well redeemed; there was the youth, in whose eye the light was borrowed, not from the touch of passion, but the morning star of God's own day; there was the minstrel, who had turned his lyre into a sword, because the time seemed to demand a sharper service to relieve his fellow-men, and those precepts of the Master which forbade that way had not yet been translated; there was the lover, whose mistress had dismissed him to aid his brethren; and many a one beside for whom fortune had prepared pleasant homes in the green shade and beside fresh fountains, but who could not rest and be merry while their fellow-men watered with blood and tears the path of the conqueror, the domain of the tyrant.

These men were of different mould one from another; the veins of some ran with water, of others with wine; and very unlike in degree was the majesty of their course, the firmness of their grasp. But when they all knelt together at the sound of that bell, all true hearts echoed to its call, and gave forth tones, each of which was wanted to swell the strain of heavenly music.

And those hearts, once thus awakened, retained a sensibility so delicate that when any act of oppression was about to be perpetrated on the earth, the votary of this most holy order, who was nearest, heard in the air the warning sound of that consecrated bell. Then did he immediately long, with all his force, to embrace the occasion,—not counting the cost, not to be deterred by weariness, sickness, or scenes of happiness to be forsaken. The means of reaching the scene where his devoir was to be done, were instantly afforded him. On the land a white steed bore him, on the waters white swans impelled his bark. All that was necessary for him, in the conduct of the journey, was to keep his mind clear from malice, anger, impatience and all wrong thoughts, till he reached the spot where his courage and energy were required. God would show the way, if he kept himself worthy to be the instrument. If he failed in this, the ministry was transferred to another, once more steadfast in the sense that

This legend made a deep impression on me, and though, even in the fairest visionary time of youth, I never met in the greenwood or described upon the stream one of those chosen servants, with his attendant snowy steed, or swan, and the seal of the shining ones upon his brow, yet I believed such an association could not have died out. These faithful servants must have felt too much the earth's need of redemption to have died in peace without choosing successors worthy to perpetuate the talisman. Still, no doubt, that sanctuary gathered in its worshippers; still they sped through the world dispensing benefits unexpected as manna to those who did not know that the wrongs of the innocent or penitent always woke the sound of the bell. But, I supposed, only eyes purged to spiritual sight could see them now.

One day I read, in the album of a distinguished contemporary, this signature,—"Dan O'Connell, of the Order of Liberators." Of this Daniel, I, at that time, knew little; not enough to judge whether he, like the great Israelite, was one able to brave the fiery furnace, and the lion's den, and the silken lures of a court, and speak truth always with a poet's power. But it flashed upon me at once, that the Order to which he vowed himself must be that of the Consecrated Bell, under a new form.

Yes! it is surely so. We know too much now to be content with merely freeing individual victims from their chains. We know enough to war with the errors which forge them. We must liberate men, but we must also establish the principles of liberty for man. We need not the white steed to show us the way; it is now too well marked to be missed by any who choose to see it.

But now, more than ever, do we need the consecration of the spirit which should precede, the pure tone of conscience which shall direct our action! Let none consider himself vowed to the Order of Liberators who is not willing, like the knights of old, to fail in his efforts and see the work given to another, if he cannot keep his heart clean from impatience, a love of excitement for its own sake, intolerance, and the bitterness of partisan hatred. For to such, whatever they may outwardly accomplish, He whose name they invoke must surely say, in the hour of spiritual ordination, "I never knew ye."

We stand, it has been said, in a time of revolution; so do men ever. Yet that this is a moment of great and peculiar importance, we do believe. Principles cannot die; but the earthly embodiment of one of the greatest that give man his claims to spiritual hope, lies gasping with a wound that threatens a long trance, or convulsion. Never did the earth more need the salt to show its savor. Bring the sacred bell; and at its sound must move, before the sincere worshipper, millions of spirits yet unborn to the woes of this world; the scenes of centuries to come demanding his agency to avert evils that shame imagination. Bring, then, the silver bell; but ye who obey its summons, believe, also, that the time demands, and God commands, a deeper, larger wisdom, a severer devotion than those that enabled Milton and Washington to leave us their legacy. We have it to pay over, principal and interest, to our heirs; the mint is ready; let not the pieces which bear the name of Texas be stamped on the reverse with slavery, and the lone star be given for a throne to him who has forfeited the title of Lucifer, except as bitter mockery. Let it not be so, if well-considered purpose, if flame-like ardor and purity of life, can prevent it. Or, if you feel yourselves unfit to aid in this cause, consider well whether you forever forego admission to the Order of Liberators, since, if you forbear this test of service, you incur a vast debt to humanity, which fate may not, in your own age, afford you opportunity to cancel. Consider well, but not slowly, for the time is short.

S. Margaret Fuller, "The Liberty Bell," Liberty Bell (1846)

Context: