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There must be the death of self always before a life can be Christ-like. In Japan they have a beautiful legend of the making of a wonderful bell. Long, long ago, the emperor wrote to the maker of bells, commanding him to cast a bell larger and more beautiful than any ever made before. He bade him put in it gold and silver and brass, that the tones might be so sweet and clear, that when hung in the palace tower, its sound might be heard for a hundred miles. The maker of bells put gold and silver and brass in his great melting pot, but the metals would not mingle and the bell was a failure. Again and again he tried, but in vain. Then the emperor was angry and sent, saying that if the bell was not made at the next trial the bell maker must die.
The bell maker had a lovely daughter. She was greatly distressed for her father. Wrapping her mantle about her she went by night to the oracle and asked how she could save him. He told her that gold and brass would not mingle until the blood of a virgin was mixed with them in their fusion. Again the old maker of bells prepared to cast the bell. The daughter stood by and the moment of casting she threw herself into the midst of the molten metal. The bell was made and was found to be more wonderful and perfect than any other ever made. It hangs in the great palace tower, and its sweet tones are heard for a hundred miles. The blood of sacrifice, mingling with the gold and silver, gave to the bell its matchless sweetness.
It is only a legend from a heathen land, but its lesson is true. Our lives make no music until self dies, and our blood mingles with our offering in the altar fires of love. It is only when we lose our life for Christ that we get it back, saved and glorious.