"Fly to the place from whence you came. Fly without hesitation, without the formality of a protest, and, above all, Captain Ayres, let us advise you to fly without the wild-geese feathers."

Though the captain was a brave man, he concluded that "discretion was the better part of valor," and "on the very next day," Captain Ayres and his tea ship Polly left Arch Street Wharf and sailed down the Delaware with the sails spread for England.

Then came the notice of the closing of the port of Boston, June 1, 1774. With muffled voice the bell tolled forth its sorrow and sympathy, and on June 18, 1774, the bell convened the Philadelphia patriots who promised aid, and in the winter of 1774-75 they sent two thousand five hundred forty pounds in gold to the sufferers for liberty's sake.

Late in the evening of the 24th of April, 1775, a horseman, Paul Revere by name, dashed down the streets of Philadelphia and stopped at the City Tavern, bringing with him the news of the battle of Lexington. On the following day, April 25, the bell announced the opening of hostilities, and the "eight thousand people by computation, who had assembled in the yard," felt that war was inevitable, and then and there they unanimously agreed "to associate for the purpose of defending with arms their property, liberty, and lives." Thus the Statehouse bell announced the first battle of the American Revolution.

On the 7th of June, 1776, the bell summoned that Congress in which Richard Henry Lee offered his famous resolution for the union and independence of the colonies, and late in the afternoon of the 4th of July the bell announced the Declaration of Independence. On the 8th

of July, as the sun neared the meridian, the bell pealed forth its solemn tones, and Congress, the State officials, the military and civic bodies, formed in line in the Statehouse yard. As the bell ceased tolling, John Nixon, a soldier, took up the Declaration and read it in strong, clear tones, which could be heard a square away. Cheers arose from the multitude, and the Statehouse bell pealed forth its glad notes in an anthem of joy and praise.

On September 26, 1776, the bell called together the Assembly that witnessed the ending of the proprietary government. The following September the bell was removed to Allentown, about fifty-eight miles from Philadelphia, to prevent its falling into the hands of the British. When they evacuated the city the bell was brought back.

On October 24, 1781, the Statehouse bell was rung at twelve o'clock noon to announce to the people "the surrender of Lord Cornwallis to the confederate arms of the United States and France." Amid the discharge of artillery, and with the other bells of the city ringing in unison, its voice was heard in pæans of national triumph. The dramatic history of the Revolution could not, however, heroically close until the bell announced the proclamation of peace, April 16, 1783.

The Liberty Bell had now become famous. Men in their pilgrimages stopped to gaze upon it with reverence. It, however, no longer rang, except on special occasions. · Every Fourth of July, every anniversary of Washington's birthday, on every visit of the illustrious Sons of Liberty to the city of Philadelphia, it united with the voice of the people. On November 27, 1781, it gave a hearty welcome to General and Lady Washington. On July 4, 1788, it announced the establishment of the Constitution of the

United States. On July 4, 1824, it sounded the birth of the Democratic Society. On September 29 of the same year it mingled its tones with the martial strains of music, with the cheering of the populace, and with the roar of a hundred cannon, as Lafayette, leaving his barouche amid the throngs of people, waving flags, and arches of flowers, ascended the carpeted stairs of Independence Hall to receive the welcome of a grateful republic.

On July 4, 1826, the "Sage of Monticello" and the "Colossus of Massachusetts," namely, Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, lay dead. Strange coincidence! Just fifty years before these patriots had signed the immortal Declaration, and the bell that had so joyously announced this act, tolled their requiem.

The last time its voice was heard on an Independence day was July 4, 1831, when "the young men of the city rang the old Statehouse bell to commemorate the day of our Independence." On February 22, 1832, it rang to commemorate the centennial birthday of Washington, and also tolled to announce the death of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, who had been the last surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence. Then came the news that Lafayette, who had heard its iron tongue welcome him, was no more, and it summoned a mourning people to commemorate the deeds and memory of that hero.

Chief Justice Marshall died July 6, 1835. Two days later, as the funeral cortége moved slowly in the solemnity of the occasion, followed by the faltering steps of the venerable Bishop White, and while the bell was solemnly tolling, its side was suddenly rent asunder, and its powerful voice broke in a half sob and was silenced forever.

CHRISTOPHER LUDWIG.

HRISTOPHER LUDWIG was the first ginger

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bread baker in Philadelphia. He lived in Letitia Court, near Second and Market streets. He made gingerbread in the forms of animals, and these were the first prints of the kind used in Philadelphia. It was a novel idea, and we read that he sold great quantities of ginger-bread to the city people, as well as to the country folk.

Christopher Ludwig was born in Germany, on the Upper Rhine, on the 17th of October, 1720. He became a private soldier in the army of the emperor when seventeen years old, and served in many wars. He also made voyages to Holland, Ireland, and the West Indies common sailor, and it was while thus employed that he conceived the idea of visiting America. He bought one hundred and twenty-five dollars' worth of ready-made clothing, and sailed for Philadelphia, arriving in the year 1753. Selling his goods at a profit of three hundred dollars, he returned to London in order to learn the confectionery business.

At the expiration of his apprenticeship he returned to Philadelphia, and opened a bakery in Letitia Court. His business thrived for more than twenty years, and he was noted for his honesty, punctuality, and industry. Meanwhile he became wealthy; he owned nine houses in the city and a farm near Germantown, and had seventeen thousand five hundred dollars at interest. He was respected by his neighbors for his justice and kindness, and they gave him the title of the " Governor of Letitia Court."

He was elected one of the Provincial Deputies July 15, 1774. He was also sent as a delegate to the Provincial Convention, January 23-28, 1775, and on the 18th of January, 1776, he served as a member of the Provincial Conference, held at Carpenters' Hall.

By this time Christopher Ludwig had tasted the sweets of freedom, and found in the liberal laws of Pennsylvania every means for wealth and happiness that could be desired. When Great Britain, in 1774, attempted to subjugate the American colonies, his soldier spirit took fire, and he volunteered his life and fortune in the cause of independence. On one occasion, when General Mifflin proposed in the Assembly to raise money by private subscription to purchase firearms and ammunition, there was considerable objection to the measure. Mr. Ludwig at length arose, and in broken English said: "Mr. President, I am nichts more as a shingerbreat baker, but put down alt Ludwig for two hundred pounds." All objection was silenced, the motion was carried by a unanimous vote, and a liberal subscription was raised.

Ludwig was foremost among the citizens to resist British injustice. In the summer of 1776 he entered the American army, serving on dangerous posts, refusing pay for his service, and striving to imbue his companions with the love of freedom both by word and deed. On one occasion the commanding officer permitted him to act as a spy, and he went to New York disguised as a deserter from the American army, and visited the Hessian camp at Staten Island. His glowing description of the comfort, wealth, and independence of their countrymen, the German Pennsylvania farmers, so captivated the Hessian