“WHEN I was managing a cotton-mill,” said Mr. J—, “the girls in the weaving- room used to complain that they could not make the bobbin-boys hear them call for more bobbins. I finally bought several bells, and for a little time they worked-well. No matter if the boy was at the other end of the room, the bell made itself heard above the clatter of the looms, and the girl was supplied with full bobbins.
But by-and-by the girls began to complain that the boys were getting careless about the bells, that they did not pay attention, and they were hindered worse than before. The boys answered that they did not hear the bells, the girls did not half ring them any more. I charged them both to be careful; but things kept growing worse, till finally the overseer came one day and said there would soon be a pitched battle between the weavers and bob-bin-boys if something was not done.
“So I went up to the room and took position by one of the looms. When the bobbin-boy was not very far away I rang the bell, but he paid no attention. I studied over the cause a little, and it flashed upon me. A great deal of oil is used about the machinery, the girls hands were greasy, the bell-metal porous, and often snatching up the bells by the metal instead of the handle, they had become filled with grease, and would give scarcely more sound than a wooden bell.
“I made a strong solution of sulphuric acid, stood the bells in it awhile, and after they were cleansed and returned to the weaving-room there was peace again between the boys and girls.”
But those dumb-bells furnished a text for many reflections to me. I thought, to how many people has the once clear, decisive voice of conscience become a dull sound.
Miss C______ reminded me again of the dumb-bells when she told me a few days ago, “When I first joined the church I didn’t care to dance any more; I really was so squeamish as to think dancing and card-playing were inconsistent with a profession of Christ. But after a little I fell in with many other church members who enjoyed these amusements, and theater and circus-going, just as much as ever, and I concluded I had been overnice and self-conceited in my ability to judge as to the propriety of the matter. I concluded if I set myself up as too good to do what other Christians did, I might be a stumbling-block, and in that way fail to be, as Paul says, ‘all things to all men, that I might win some,’ or something to that effect. And the more I do as the rest do, the more I am convinced that my later conclusion was the better one.”
“My poor young lady,” thought I, “what very dumb bell yours is—soaked in pleasure and self-seeking!”
The Advent Review and Sabbath Herald Aug. 5, 1875