Chapter I: Part 1

MISS ELLIS'S MISSION.

BY MARY P. W. SMITH.

BOSTON:

AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION.

1886.

_Copyright, 1886_,
BY AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION.

University Press:
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE.

TO
POST-OFFICE MISSION WORKERS,
WEST AND EAST,
AND TO EARNEST PEOPLE
EVERYWHERE.

"_It was a very contemptible barley-loaf she had to offer, compared
with your fine, white, wheaten cake of youth and riches and strength
and learning; but remember she offered her best freely, willingly,
faithfully; and when once a thing is offered, it is no longer the
little barley-loaf in the lad's hand, but the miraculous satisfying
Bread of Heaven in the hand of the Lord of the Harvest, more than
sufficient for the hungry multitude._"

* * * * *

"_'And so there is an end of poor Miss Toosey and her Mission!'...
Wait a bit! There is no waste in nature, science teaches us; neither
is there any in grace, says faith. We cannot always see the results,
but they are there as surely in grace as in nature._"

MISS TOOSEY'S MISSION.

MISS ELLIS'S MISSION.

This little sketch of Miss Ellis's life and work owes its first suggestion to Rev. J. Ll. Jones, of Chicago, who soon after her death wrote: "Why not try for a little memorial of her, to be accompanied with some of the most touching and searching extracts from the letters both received and written by her, and make it into a little booklet for the instruction of Post Office Mission Workers?... Can you not make it something as touching as 'Miss Toosey,' and far more practical,--that is, for our own little household of faith?... We do not want it primarily as a missionary tool, but as a wee fragment of the spiritual history of the world,--something that will lift and touch the soul of everybody.... In short, give us an enlightened Miss Toosey; her mission being as much stronger as Sallie Ellis was more rational and mature than the original 'Miss Toosey'!"

No one knowing Miss Ellis could read the touching little story of "Miss Toosey's Mission" without being struck by a resemblance in the characters, though a resemblance with a marked difference. As one said, "I never saw her going up the church aisle Sundays, with her audiphone, her little satchel, her bundle of books and papers, and her hymn-book, without thinking of Miss Toosey." In both lives a seemingly powerless and insignificant personality, through the force of a great yearning to do a bit of God's work in the world, achieved its longing far beyond its fondest dreams. As I read the many letters from all over the country that have come since Miss Ellis's death, as I realize how the spiritual force that burned in the soul of this small, feeble, seemingly helpless woman reached out afar and touched many lives for their enduring ennoblement, her life, so meagre and cramped in its outward aspect, so vivid and intense within and on paper, seems to me not without a touch of romance. To perpetuate a little longer the influence of that life is the object of this sketch.

* * * * *

SALLIE ELLIS was born in Cincinnati, March 13, 1835. The old-fashioned name Sallie, at that time popular in the South and West, was given her in honor of an aunt. She disliked sailing under the false colors of "Sarah." In letters she usually signed herself "S. Ellis," because, as she explained to one correspondent, "I do not know myself as _Sarah_, and Sallie is not dignified enough in writing to strangers; so I usually prefer plain S." Late in life, however, for reasons of dignity, she sometimes felt forced to adopt Sarah as what she called her "official signature."

Her father, Mr. Rowland Ellis, was born in Boston, but while yet young removed to Cincinnati, where he still lives in a vigorous and honored old age. Although his mother, in all her later years at least, was a devoted attendant upon Theodore Parker's services, Mr. Ellis in early life was a Baptist. But when the Unitarian Church was founded at Cincinnati, in 1830, his name appears among the organizers, of whom he is almost the sole survivor. Of that church he has always been a devoted supporter and constant attendant. He was a leading banker of the West, and Sallie was born into one of the most elegant and luxurious homes in Cincinnati. The Ellises kept open house, exercised the most generous hospitality, and made, as one says who knew them well then, "such a beautiful use of their money. The Ellises were just the people who _ought_ to have money." Mrs. Ellis is described as a woman of unusual loveliness of character. Out of the eight children, Sallie was thought to be the mother's favorite, because, it was supposed, she was always puny, shy, and delicate. "Sallie shall always have what she wants," said the mother, "because she wants so little." But mothers _know_, and undoubtedly the mother saw deeper than others into the rare spiritual quality concealed from the world under her delicate child's quiet, reserved exterior. Her older sister remembers of Sallie's childhood: "As a very young child she exhibited strongly marked peculiarities of character. Her affection, conscientiousness, piety, and love of duty made her different from the rest of us as children. I remember well that at home or at school there were never any rebukes for Sallie. Though very social by nature, as young as at five and six years of age she loved to be alone, and would sit in the corner of her mother's room, with face turned to the corner, musing, and talking in a low tone to her doll. When our father and mother would take the children to entertainments of various descriptions, such as children enjoy, Sallie would invariably express her preference to remain at home. If she thought her parents wanted her to go, she went."

For some years Sallie attended the private school of Mrs. Anne Ryland, an English Unitarian (a former parishioner, I think, of Rev. Laut Carpenter, and connected by marriage with Rev. Brooke Herford), a lady of noble character, and a teacher whose culture and methods were in advance of her age. In a volume of poetry presented Sallie by this teacher, is this inscription, whose old-fashioned quaintness of phrase pictures for us the Sallie Ellis of thirteen, then, as always, faithful to duty.

"Mrs. Ryland has been much gratified by the general deportment of
Miss Sallie Ellis since she has been under her charge. Miss Ellis
has evinced an evident desire to please, by a strict observance of
the rules of the school, and by assiduous and persevering attention
to all her studies. She has made improvement in them all fully
commensurate with her laudable endeavors, in Grammar, Geography,
and Orthography particularly. It is with unfeigned regret that Mrs.
Ryland has to add, to the foregoing expression of her approval of
her dear pupil's conduct, the last word,--Farewell."

Later, she attended the private school of Rev. William Silsbee, who says of her, "She was always studious and well-behaved, one of the most faithful of all my pupils." Mr. M. Hazen White, for so many years superintendent of the Unitarian Sunday school, was also one of her teachers. When seventeen, she was sent to Mrs. Charles Sedgwick's school, in Lenox, Mass. A schoolmate describes her then as a quite pretty, black-eyed girl, of delicate physique, a good and studious but not brilliant scholar, very quiet and retiring, and almost morbidly reserved. The few friends she made here, however, were life-long, and she corresponded with some of the Lenox schoolmates until her death. "She was a perfect dancer," says the schoolmate.

Treasured among Miss Ellis's papers were found some pages of a schoolgirl's album, marked, "At Mrs. Sedgwick's School, Lenox, Mass., March, 1852." It contains verses descriptive of each pupil, written apparently by Mrs. Sedgwick. The little pen-picture of the schoolgirl paints well the woman of later years.

SALLIE ELLIS.

If device for an old Latin motto were asked,
No invention would need to be very much tasked;
For the "multum in parvo" _you_ safely might stand,
With book, needle, or pen, ever found in your hand.
A little, wee body with strong, earnest will,
That steadily works with the force of a mill;
A mind quite untiring, whatever it do,
Its manifold ends with good heed to pursue:
Hands busy and strong play deftly their part,
And these all controlled by a good, honest heart.

Bright indeed looked Sallie's future in those days. A year or two more at school, then a return to the loved mother and the beautiful home, and a "coming out" into the brilliant world with all the advantages attending wealth and position. But the clouds were already gathering which in coming years were to darken for her in quick succession the sunshine of earthly prosperity. She was called home from school by the illness of her mother. The mother died, leaving Sallie the oldest daughter at home, to fill her place as best she might to five little brothers and sisters.

Her sister says: "Our dear mother's death was the turning-point in Sallie's life. She was so shrinking, sensitive, and tender by nature, no one could fully understand her but a mother who had watched the hidden beauties of her character expand from infancy to girlhood."

The mother's memory was fondly cherished, her loss deeply mourned, all Miss Ellis's life. Over the dying bed of the worn and weary woman of fifty smiled down the radiant face of the mother, painted when a young, blooming girl. Among Miss Ellis's papers was found a manuscript volume of eighty-one pages of selections, copied in her clear, firm handwriting, index of the spirit's strength. It is headed, "Crumbs of Comfort for the Afflicted." The selections are from the Bible, sermons, hymns, and poems,--all breathing of religious trust and help in grief,--a beautiful and touching collection. The first page reads,--

"Begun in Nov. 1870.

"These selections are made in memory of my dear mother, who was
called away many years since, and through whose death I was led to
think of a higher life,--the _true_ life of the soul.

"'Oh, I believe there is no _away_; that no love, no life, goes
ever from us; it goes as He went, that it may come again, deeper
and closer and surer, and be with us always, even unto the end of
the world' (_Patience Strong's Outings_)."

One of the selections is an anonymous poem, "The Strength of the Lonely." On one page Miss Ellis had written (signed "S. E."), "I can but believe that God allows a mother still to watch over and care for her family when he takes her from this world, and in our affliction that he draws us to himself, and to Jesus as our guide to him, through her spiritual influence, just as, while upon earth, he permitted her to be his instrument to lead and guide us in all that is good. All children too, even the youngest, are God's instruments for good, and their ministries cease not with their earthly life. The departed are with us everywhere, through our daily duties,--

"In the loneliest hour, in the crowd, they are nigh us."

A year or two after the mother's death Sallie joined the Unitarian Church, being baptized by Rev. A. A. Livermore, of whom she writes in a letter: "Rev. A. A. Livermore was settled here from the time I was fourteen to twenty-one, and he formed my religious character." Fitting indeed was it that he who has trained so many young men for the ministry should dedicate to God's service this young woman, also destined to be his minister to many souls. An old lady in the church remembers seeing Sallie go up to be baptized, leading a little brother by each hand, all the little children being baptized at the same time. To one of her nature, the vows then taken were a most sacred, real consecration of her whole self to God,--vows to be nobly fulfilled in the life.

Mr. Livermore writes of her:--

"During my pastorate of the Unitarian Church in Cincinnati, Mr. and
Mrs. Rowland Ellis were valued parishioners of mine, and their
children were all baptized by me. It was a lovely group of little
folks, and the spirit of that consecration has gone largely through
all their lives, and given them, I believe, the Christian flavor.
They have, too, been very warmly united as a family, and in health
and sickness, in life and death, they have borne strong testimony
to the blessed anchorage of a positive religious faith.

"They were also diligent attendants on the Sunday school in the
basement of the old church. Sallie's bright face and upright
attitude was to be seen in her place as sure as the Sunday came.

"After I left Cincinnati I saw her but seldom, but on those
occasions she always spoke of the earlier times in the church and
the Sunday school with a warmth and glow of memory that showed that
they had been real points of life to her mind and character. And
especially after her deafness became a chastening hand laid upon
her character, and family sorrows and bereavements followed in the
train, it was plain that she found her religious trust the one
thing needful."

Within another year business reverses swept away Mr. Ellis's entire fortune. As he had meantime married a lady who proved a most capable and devoted mother to the younger children, Sallie, released from domestic cares, felt that she ought to do something to assist her father. "She was so modest," says a friend, "I don't think it ever occurred to her that she could teach school. But she said there was one thing she knew she could do, and do well, and that was, to dance." So Miss Sallie became a dancing-teacher, having classes of children in their mothers' parlors.

Another friend (whose boys, now stalwart men in the church, were among Miss Ellis's pupils) says of her: "She was a lovely dancing-teacher. She not only taught the children to dance well, but she taught them such gentle, lovely manners. Indeed, the significant thing in Miss Ellis's life, to me, was her faithfulness. Whatever her hand found to do, she did, and did well. Because she had been so faithful at dancing-school, she was able to be so successful a teacher. Because, when taught sewing, she tried so hard to do her best, she became such a beautiful sewer, and was able to teach sewing;" for a sewing-class was another expedient of those days.

Her father moved to Chicago in 1851, where he resided three years. There Miss Ellis attended Mr. Shippen's church, taught a Sunday-school class, and had a class of newsboys evenings. After the return to Cincinnati, while Miss Ellis was at the sea-shore, she began to experience a painful roaring in the ears. Hearing, never quite perfect, was soon almost totally gone. The following years are little, to outward sight, but a record of invalidism, of trying this or that doctor, but still ever decreasing health and strength. Many dyspeptics, from Carlyle to lesser folk, have felt their disease, like charity, a cover for a multitude of sins. Miss Ellis suffered from chronic dyspepsia of aggravated type, from catarrhal and other troubles which finally wore away the always frail thread of life in consumptive decline.[1]

[Footnote 1: The death of two brothers, of a dear little niece, and of a fondly loved sister,--a woman beloved by all who knew her, who died only about a year before Miss Ellis, leaving five motherless girls--were among the trials of her maturer years.]

But through all these hard years Miss Ellis was doing what she could, and longing to do more. Until deafness prevented, she always taught in Sunday school. She was a devoted attendant on all church services, and worker in all church causes. The perfection of her handiwork made it in great demand. Knowing now Miss Ellis's possibilities, one almost grudges the Unitarian children, and the innumerable but beloved little nephews and nieces, the years of "Aunt Sallie's" life that went into dainty embroidery and perfect mittens for their wearing. The church fairs were always liberally aided by her willing hands. Indeed, it is difficult, without seeming exaggeration, to express her passion of devotion to her church. It was literally her life. Outside her family, to which she was warmly attached, everything centred for her there, and for many years one of her heaviest crosses was her inability to render the service she desired to her church and denomination.

The portrait prefacing this book was taken in 1871, when Miss Ellis was thirty-six years old,--perhaps the saddest period in her life. Youth, health, fortune, hearing, dear friends, had gone one after another. The future looked dark indeed. She felt within herself capacities for which there seemed no earthly opportunity. The face wears a sadder expression than that characterizing it in later life, when at last she had found her real work.[2]

[Footnote 2: The kindness of Mr. Frank R. Ellis, of Cincinnati, Miss Ellis's youngest brother, enables us to place the portrait in this book.]

Rev. Charles Noyes was settled as Unitarian pastor in Cincinnati in 1872. To him Miss Ellis always attributed her first missionary impulse.

In a letter to Rev. W. C. Gannett, July 28, 1885, she said:--

"Yes, it is a _great_ source of comfort to have started the 'good
seed,' and now to see so many stronger people taking up the work
and doing so much better than I. A great deal is due to dear Mr.
Charles Noyes. He won me by his kind heart while here, and was so
kind in lending me his manuscripts always, and books, that he kept
me along with the religion of the day. Then Mr. Weudte furthered
the matter by putting me on the Missionary Committee, and finally
started me out with the 'Pamphlet Mission.' You know the rest."

In her diary was a copy of a letter written Mr. Noyes on his departure from Cincinnati, dated June 23, 1875, a portion of which is here given.

"I cannot say 'so be it' to your departure without returning thanks
for the many pleasant hours you have afforded me through your
manuscripts, the books and papers you have so kindly lent me from
time to time. You have given me something to think about for a long
time, so I can do without any sermons for a while. I do not expect
to find so kind a pastor very soon.

"From your first text, 'The Spirit of the Lord is upon me. Take
heed, therefore, how ye hear,' I accepted you as a teacher learning
more from God than from man. I have followed you from beginning to
the end, and I have worked _with_ you and _for_ you to the best of
my ability, my strength, and my means. Would I had been a more
efficient worker! I have taken heed as to how I have heard. You
have not changed my views so much as brought out more clearly what
was already in my own mind. The best lesson I have learned from you
is a firmer trust in God. You have brought me to the 'Source of all
Truth, whence Jesus drew his life.' Here you leave me. An essential
point to have reached, in my view; a firm rock on which to rest,
and one that can never be taken from me. Some people are not
satisfied with a faith so simple. They need more to rest on; as if
there could be a stronger, better support than the 'voice in the
soul.' From loss of hearing, the 'voice within' has spoken more
clearly to me perhaps.... It is a very great disappointment to me
to part with you and your family, for I have become very much
attached to you all; for even little G---- has learned to look upon
me as a friend. It is not every one who wins me; and when one does,
it is all the harder to separate from him. Still, we are often
compelled to give up our preferences, as I have learned before
now.... The benediction I ask is the one you have so often asked
for us (Mary----ears to me, and a reliable authority): 'May the
Heavenly Father bless, preserve, and guide you all. May he give you
wisdom to know and strength to do his holy will forevermore.'"

Mr. Noyes, being asked for his recollections of Miss Ellis, writes:--

"Sallie had a very true, deep, strong religious nature, and a
leaning to religious, not to say theological, studies. Alone in
Cincinnati when I first went there, I was often a guest at Mr.
Ellis's Sunday table. Sallie borrowed my sermons. She liked to talk
over the subject of the sermon, and this led to my recommending to
her many books for her reading, and loaning to her what I had in my
library. She became familiar with the writings of most of our
Unitarian writers,--with Channing, Clarke, Hedge, Dewey, Norton,
Furness, and many others. She was no careless reader, but a student
of the writer's thought.... She had great breadth of mental
outlook, and a great heart of charity and love for all. She admired
the diversity of opinion in our body, and had faith in the unity of
the Spirit that would fuse us into one.... If Sallie ever expressed
wonder and surprise, it was that Unitarianism did not grow as fast
as it ought, and that those who accepted its teachings did not
identify themselves with it. We had our Mission School of about
three hundred pupils, and our Sewing School.... The time had not
come for the Pamphlet Mission or the Post Office; yet Miss Ellis
was making the best preparation possible for her after-work, and in
due time the door of best usefulness stood wide open. You know, as
we all know, how well she filled her office.... Her letters were
sermons,--tracts in themselves, best adapted to her correspondents,
and, I am persuaded, did a grand work of their own. She heard with
difficulty, she was not an easy talker, but she wrote with great
clearness.... More than the books she sent out, she was to many a
one the blessed missionary of our faith.... In her early studies
the miracle question was a stumbling-block to Sallie. The old-time
interpretation of miracle she could not accept; neither could she
take up with the mythical theory of Strauss. Miracle must be in
harmony with law. Jesus must be to her the natural flower of
_human_ nature, the perfect blossom of _human_ development. Nature
and the supernatural must be in harmony. Hence the delight she took
in Dr. Furness's works. His works helped her, as they have so many
others, out of her difficulties about the supernatural. And more
than that, they fed her religious life, pure and simple, and let
her into the heart of Christ. She often alluded to her debt to Dr.
Furness, whom she admired and loved."

Miss Ellis little expected or would have desired to figure as a Unitarian saint. Her estimate of herself was lowly. Whatever her faults and limitations, however, they were only those natural to a strong nature driven in upon itself, beating in vain against the stern walls that everywhere surrounded it. Bravely did she strive to resist what she clearly perceived to be the natural tendencies of her peculiar troubles, and bravely did she succeed. The prayers, the tears, the struggles of those lonely, baffled years are known only to God, and are only hinted at here and there in the diary kept during a large part of her life. An unique diary it is, showing, as nothing else could, the passion of religious devotion which burned in her soul. Each day's record, no matter how brief, ends with passages of Scripture, or sometimes a hymn, appropriate to the day's mood or experience. In reading it, one realizes afresh the richness of the Bible in comfort and strength. The diary furnishes a complete history of the Unitarian Church of Cincinnati for many years. All the individual joys and sorrows of its members, their birthdays and their death-days, are here recorded with loving sympathy. Also, a complete record of every Sunday's service for many years is given, with always a full abstract of the sermon, sometimes filling several pages of fine, close writing. Occasionally it happened that the minister failed to hand Miss Sallie his sermon after delivery,--a grievous disappointment, almost too great to bear, as the diary testifies. Each year the personal matter grows less, the religious meditations and quotations consume more and more space, until of the journal in the last years her sister writes: "It seems to have been kept mainly to give vent to her pure, spiritual nature, which was ever longing for some expression of itself." A very few extracts are here given from the diary,--a glimpse only of the struggles and longings that unconsciously to herself were all fitting her for her work.

DIARY.

1873. I have been too indolent for a few years. Now I must be up
and doing, with a heart for anything, and remember that these
clouds that overshadow us all are meant to make us look beyond for
the sunshine. "No cross, no crown." I have a project in my head
that I wish very much to carry out. I am tired of my selfish life;
and all that reconciles me to it is, that I accept it as a
necessary discipline for my restless spirit, to teach me
submission, and help me to say, "Thy will, not mine, be done." My
idea of a _true_ Christian is to be working for others always, and
not thinking of self. My desire is, to start a sewing-class from
the Mission School, to be kept up during the summer, if I can only
get the means of carrying out my plan, and find some one who is
willing to take charge of it in case I am not able to be there. I
would _gladly_ make the sacrifice of personal comfort.

The sewing-class was started, and Miss Ellis became one of its most devoted teachers, though working often in great feebleness and pain.

Feel bluer, but I believe my deafness is bringing me truer faith,
and resignation.... Another very warm day, but I have managed to
get through the day cheerfully, thinking of heavenly things.... I
cannot understand what makes me so ugly sometimes. I pray that my
evil spirit may be subdued some day.... Do not know of anything I
have done to benefit others to-day, only I have been cheerful.... I
have felt pretty well, and this day went rightly with me, though I
do not know as I have advanced the cause of life very much.... How
I do long to live a perfectly unselfish life, and to be a blessing
to those around me, as my life was intended for!... Am reading "Old
Kensington," by Miss Thackeray,--a real love-story; and it makes me
sad, as usual.... Still in the house, and feel poorly. Feel a
little dull this evening, and on thinking over my life, think that
I have had more than most people of my age to endure, and wonder
that I keep up my spirits as well as I have; and it is only that I
feel that all is the necessary discipline for me. "Let us but be
genuine, honest, and true in everything, even in the smallest
thing, and we have in that the sign and the pledge of entire
consecration of heart and life to God" (J. F. Clarke). "Be faithful
unto death, and I will give you a crown of life" (Rev. ii. 10)....
Gave up to a _terrible_ fit of the "blues" this afternoon and
evening. Am _so_ tired of suffering all the time, that I gave way
under my cross to-day. It seems as if I can't struggle to live
longer.

_Sunday._ A bright day; I was not able to go out, but felt that it
was good to remain at home to think over my blessings.... Attended
Bible-class this evening. I came home in rather a despondent mood.
I find my cross hard to bear, but must pray for more strength.

1874. Sent my old Bible to be bound to-day, which I have used
twenty-three years.... I have felt extremely favored to-day, in
that I was able to attend the Sewing School, which I feared all the
week I might be disappointed in. We closed the school to-day, after
twenty-four weeks' work. It has been time well spent, and I feel
particularly thankful to my heavenly Father in having heard my
prayer for health, strength, and good weather. One strong desire of
my life has been vouchsafed me, and I feel overpowered with joy
to-night.... I have felt to-day how much I need the assistance of
Christ, and may his religion help me to be victorious in the end.

Quoting an extract from Miss Sedgwick's diary on the unmarried life, which ends, "Though not _first_ to any, I am, like Themistocles, _second_ to a great many: my sisters are all kind and affectionate to me, my brothers generous and invariably kind; their children all love me," Miss Ellis adds: "These _very words_ I can repeat as my experience.... If I can only add a few _drops_ of happiness to his life [a brother's], I shall be too happy."

1875. Mr. Noyes called Monday to bring me his sermon, and it made
me very resigned. The text was from 2 Cor. xii. 10,--"When I am
weak, then am I strong."

Paul's "thorn in the flesh" was the topic of the discourse, and several pages of extracts are copied in the journal.

It is one of the trials of my life not to assist in the church as I
desire to. I presume it must be because I neglect other duties, and
see but one thing before me, and that is, to give up the _idol_ of
my life, and do the duty that is nearest to me; but it is a sore
trial to me.... This has been an eventful week to me, for last
Sunday Mr. Noyes closed his ministry with us.... Now they have
really gone, it makes me feel rather despondent, though I know they
have left many blessings to me behind them.

I am beginning some fancy work, in hopes of brightening my life
somewhat. I am not reconciled to the hardships of life.... Am
anxious to learn wood-carving.... I try to have the faith _of_
Jesus more than that about him.

... Went to see about trumpets yesterday, and came home greatly
disheartened, and shall have to submit with a good grace to the
cross.... Mr. Wendte lectures on the New Testament this evening. I
should be glad to hear him, but believe all is best as it is.

1877. We had a beautiful sermon to-day, which I took especially to
myself, on "The Lonely Hours of Life." ... Am feeling better
to-day, and the sermon (on "Be Strong, and of a Good Courage")
roused my better nature, ready to go on courageously.... Lecture
this evening on "Funeral Customs." I did not attend, for the sermon
to-day (on "Prayer") so exalted me that I didn't feel like
listening to things of the world.... Wakened feeling disconsolate
this morning, but resolved to bear the cross of life as trustfully
and cheerfully as possible, and lay up treasures during the summer
ready to "give out" when all return in the winter. Impressed two
little pieces on my mind,--one by Spitta, in "Day unto Day,"--

"Glad with thy light and glowing with thy love,
So let me ever think and speak and move."

The other by Whittier,--

"Lord, help me strive 'gainst each besetting sin."

Went to Madame Wendte's. Brought home, "Ten Great Religions,"
"Reason in Religion," and "Evolution in Religion."

Thus did Miss Ellis fortify herself for the summer vacation of the church. Emerson's "Society and Solitude" was another book read this vacation.

Have not lived up to my ideal the past week, and particularly
to-day. However, may the good Father pardon my shortcomings and aid
me to do better.... I feel that I have added something to my life
for the benefit of others by the rest and reading of this summer. I
hope to study up German a little, among my busy hours this winter.
I can retain so little in my head, it is discouraging to read. I
must work the harder, and believe "all is for the best," and pray,
in faith, for patience.... Mr. Wendte's first sermon--subject,
"After Vacation"--made me feel somewhat depressed, for I feel so
anxious to do for _every one_, and have not the means or strength.
[She resolves to] do my little part and not discourage [the
minister],--do my part more by showing an interest than by the
amount of work I do.... I am miserable, dyspeptic, and
disappointed.... I have felt heartily discouraged this week in
every way, but the church did me good this morning.

Mr. Noyes was succeeded as pastor at Cincinnati by Rev. Charles W. Wendte in the fall of 1875. The idea of preaching, of carrying to others the blessed Unitarian faith which had been her joy and strength, now filled Miss Ellis's soul. She discussed various schemes to this end with friends who respected her and her earnestness too much to laugh at the (in worldly eyes) utter absurdity of her hopes, as futile as Miss Toosey's desire to go as a missionary to Nawaub. Could she not go out into Ohio villages and hold lay services, reading the printed prayers and sermons of our Unitarian ministers? Great must have been the yearning for the ministry consuming her soul, to tempt the reserved, feeble little woman, with her deafness and dyspepsia, her incessant cough, her love of her own room and things, her exactness and exquisite nicety of habit, seriously to contemplate such a career. Yet, but for absolute physical incapacity, and the dissuasions (on that account) of her family, she would certainly have made the experiment. Or might she not open a reading-room in the church, to be kept open all the week, where the treasures of Unitarian literature could be dispensed? Even in her last years she seriously meditated going to the church every Sunday morning during the vacation to open her library and meet those who might want books, papers, or advice. The summer vacation was always a grief to her. She wished the church might be open every day.

Nov. 9, 1876, a rough draft of the following letter to Mr. Wendte appears in her diary:--

"I cannot resist returning special thanks for your sermon of last
Sunday, 'To what end is your life?' I do not know when a sermon has
so fully aroused the will of my youth.... At twenty years of age,
'the object of my toil' was to live for the earthly comfort of the
family, for the good of society in general, so far as in my power,
at the same time keeping an eye to the higher interests of life by
working in and for the church.... 'The goal of my ambition' in
middle life is to labor for the spiritual welfare of those about
me; but I find myself without means to assist others.... My
preference is decidedly to labor for the higher natures of others
as well as for myself; therefore, remembering your kind offer in
your letter to me during the summer, I ask, can you suggest
anything for me to engage in, in the spreading of Christianity?
[She wishes] to devote the remainder of my life to the highest and
best I know. If you can put me in the way of assisting others as
well as myself in the highest and holiest way, I shall be ever
indebted to you. I shall be glad to so live that when I lay down my
life I shall in some measure have returned the many kindnesses of
parents, sisters, brothers, and friends, repaid the efforts of
teachers and pastors in my behalf, and proved myself a worthy child
to Him who gave me being."

At the end, however, she writes: "Didn't send it. Concluded it was better to talk with him."

The same ideas in another form appear again in the diary as a letter to Mr. Wendte. One of the burdens on Mr. Wendte's heart in those days was "to find something for Miss Ellis to do." Partly to this end he devised Sunday-school lessons in manuscript, which Miss Ellis copied each week for all the teachers. In 1877 he appointed a Missionary Society with a formidable list of names, the significant one among whom events proved to be Miss Sallie Ellis, Treasurer,--she being, indeed, the "society." The little programme says:--

"The object of the Missionary Society is to spread the knowledge
and increase the influence of Liberal religious ideas throughout
the city and State by publications, correspondence, and such other
means as may seem to it suitable and best."

During the winter of 1877-78 Miss Ellis, aided by Mr. Wendte, distributed 1,846 tracts and 211 "Pamphlet Missions" (as baby "Unity" was called) in twenty-six States. Miss Ellis was always scrupulously systematic, methodical, and exact in all she did, and a huge pile of closely written blank books gives every minutia connected with the business details of her work. In her diary was a copy of this letter to Mr. Wendte, dated Feb. 21, 1878:--

"Why not have a 'Mission Sunday' sometime soon? Do not announce it
previously, however; for some might feel inclined to remain at
home; but catch as many together as possible, and make them listen
to a rousing address from you,--a report of what you have done and
the letters you have received. It might not be as social or
interesting as a concert or something else; but it would not hurt
the people to listen to it, and would make the missionary work more
a reality to them, and I believe in the end an appeal from you
would bring in more money than anything else.

"I have one request to make of you, however; and that is, that you
do not bring my name out in the pulpit, unless you have occasion to
mention the names of the Missionary Society. It is merely necessary
to mention you have been assisted by one of the 'Missionary
Committee,' not saying 'Treasurer,' man or woman. I have no
objection if any one asks you privately who has done the work, to
have you tell them. I love to do good work, but wish no other
praise than to know that the recipient of the act has been
benefited thereby. I act from the mere pleasure of doing good to
others and believing it to be right, therefore deserve no
credit.... The winter's work has brought out the desire of younger
days, when a Presbyterian friend used to tell me, 'You ought to go
as a missionary to China.' I then had five little brothers and
sisters to help care for, and considered that 'mission' enough.
Since they are grown my health has been too poor to undertake
anything, but now I should like a work in life. If I have a 'taste'
or 'talent' for anything, it is for the study and the spread of
religion.... All the family are only too kind to me, which only
makes me the more anxious to use my one talent to the utmost
extent. If you know of any work I could assist in, in our
denomination, East or West, I would be much obliged to you if you
would let me know."

The first mentions in the journal of missionary work are Nov. 25, 1877, "Mr. Wendte came to me with missionary work to do,--five hundred tracts to distribute;" and Dec. 9, 1877, "Feel that I am doing good in lending books and papers and distributing tracts."

Sept. 5, 1880, while visiting her sister in Philadelphia she opens a new volume of the journal as follows:--

Too warm to venture to church. The church in Cincinnati opens
to-day. Would I might be one of the congregation! I _am_, in
spirit! In opening this book on Sunday I would dedicate it to a
high use, and open it with ascription of praise to the Giver of all
good. "Pray for us unto the Lord thy God, ... that the Lord thy God
may show us the way wherein we may walk" (Jer. xlii. 2, 3).
"Quicken thou me in thy way" (Psalms cxix. 37).

The following prayers are then copied:--

"My Father, may I ever humbly follow in thy way; may I ever trust,
with the full assurance of faith, that it does lead to thy heavenly
kingdom. It is often narrow and perplexed, and I cannot see where
it is leading me; yet, though the guiding light of thy holy word
may be half obscured by the mists of the valley, if I fix my eyes
steadily upon it, it will become brighter and brighter; I shall see
my way clearly in this seemingly intricate road, and discern, even
at the end of it, the entrance to thy heavenly mansion."

"O God, may our souls be full of life. Save us from an inanimate
and sluggish life.... Inspire our sensibility to good; may we see
more and more its loveliness and beauty. And may all the varied
experience of life draw us nearer to thee" (Channing).

Then follows "an abstract from Channing's Memoirs, showing how, by self-scrutiny, his character was formed, by many trials and denials." She then copies eighteen pages from Channing's "Rules for Self-Discipline," at the end writing, "All these pages from Channing are written from memory, not copied."

The second rule copied is, "Let me not _talk_ of pains, sicknesses, complaints," etc.

Following the rules is a poem copied from the "Christian Register" of Sept. 4, 1880.

WHAT OF THAT?

"Tired?" Well, what of that?
Didst fancy life was spent on beds of ease,
Fluttering the rose-leaves scattered by the breeze?
Come, rouse thee! work while it is called day!
Coward, arise! Go forth upon thy way.

"Lonely?" And what of that?
Some must be lonely; 'tis not given to all
To feel a heart responsive rise and fall,
To blend another life into its own.
Work may be done in loneliness. Work on!

"Dark?" Well, what of that?
Didst fondly dream the sun would never set?
Dost fear to lose thy way? Take courage yet!
Learn thou to walk by faith, and not by sight;
Thy steps will guided be, and guided right.

"Hard?" Well, what of that?
Didst fancy life one summer holiday,
With lessons none to learn, and nought but play?
Go, get thee to thy task! Conquer or die!
It must be learned! Learn it, then, patiently.

"No help?" Nay, 'tis not so!
Though human help is far, thy God is nigh;
Who feeds the ravens, hears his children's cry.
He's near thee wheresoe'er thy footsteps roam,
And he will guide thee, light thee, help thee home.

Then follows a selection from Emerson:--

"The scholar must be a solitary, laborious, modest, and charitable
soul. He must embrace solitude as a bride. He must have his glees
and his glooms alone. Go, scholar, cherish your soul; expel
companions; set your habits to a life of solitude; then will the
faculties rise fair and full within, like forest trees, field
flowers; you will have results, which, when you meet your fellow
men, you can communicate and they will gladly receive. It is the
noble, manly, just thought which is the superiority demanded of
you; and not crowds, but solitude, confers this elevation."

Next follows a page of "Paragraphs for Preachers." Evidently this year sees the dying of the first hope to be a preacher, and the gradual dawn of her life's real mission. Seven pages follow of "Prayers altered and rearranged for my own use, from 'Dairy Praise and Prayer.'" Three or four appropriate prayers are united in one, headed, "First evening," "First Morning," "Second Evening," etc. These were apparently prepared for the lay services she had dreamed of holding. A page or two more, and this entry, October 17, marks the dawning of the new hope: "Last week received a very kind letter from Mr. Wendte, in which he stated, 'We have made you chairman of a Book and Tract Table in the church; 'therefore I feel bound to return to attend to it." Further extracts from the diary are:--

Saturday evening, J---- accidentally broke my audiphone. I felt
_lost_ then, but wouldn't let them know how badly I felt about it,
and even went to church without it, for fear they would feel hurt
about it. It came home mended, this evening.

_October 31._ Finished G----'s afghan, also completed the
embroidery of fourth skirt for Mrs. ----, and first of baby C----'s
mittens. Was quite interested in a letter of Mrs. ---- in
"Register" of last week on "The Woman's Auxiliary Conference." Hope
she _will_ succeed in establishing a Woman's Club for discussion
and debate in Cincinnati.

Miss F. Le Baron, whose friendship with Miss Ellis dates back to the latter's residence in Chicago, writes that she has several letters from Miss Ellis setting forth her desire to preach, but unfortunately they are in a totally inaccessible place. This allusion, in the diary, evidently points to the final renunciation of Miss Ellis's first missionary impulse:--

_November 7._ A letter from Miss Le Baron, of Chicago, in regard to
my engaging in missionary work in the West. She finally closed with
the idea that I had come to myself. In a letter from A---- this
week she says to me, "_Our_ lot in life appears to be that of
patience and submission," which brings to my mind quite a sermon,
in other's words, which I hope to write out to-day. It is time to
prepare for church.... The thought suggested by A----'s letter with
regard to submission to our lot called to mind the passage William
Ellery Channing wrote to his friend Francis. "You seem to go upon
the supposition that our circumstances are determined by
Providence. I believe they are determined by ourselves. Man is the
artificer of his own fortunes. By exertion he can enlarge his
sphere of usefulness. By activity he can 'multiply himself.' It is
mind that gives him the ascendency in society; it is mind that
gives him power and ability. It depends upon himself to call forth
the energies of mind, to strengthen the intellect, to form
benevolence into a habit of the soul. The consequence I draw from
these principles is that Heaven, by placing me in particular
circumstances, has not assigned me a determinate sphere of
usefulness (as you seem to think), but that it is in my power, and
of course my duty, to spread the 'beams of my light' wider into the
'night of adversity.'"

Miss Ellis continues, apparently partly in her own words:--

With this idea, then, that we largely fashion our own lives, that,
"working with God, and for him, our lives can know no true failure,
but all things shall contribute to our soul's true success," let us
take up our cross, and then we shall find

"The burden light,
The path made straight, the way all bright,
Our warfare cease;
So shall we win the crown,
At last our life lay down
In perfect peace."

Two pages more on the same topic, of original and selected matter skilfully blended (perhaps the whole a bit of one of the sermons never to be preached), end with the hymn, copied in full,--

"I ask not wealth, but power to take
And use the things I have aright;"

and Miss Ellis finally sums all up, "True submission, then, consists in _working_ out our own salvation, looking to God for strength wherewith to work." The only entry for the next day is part of the hymn,--

"But God, through ways they have not known,
Will lead his own."

November 11 she returned home.

_November 14._ Attended fair, and met many friends. Mr. Wendte
kindly set me to work at a Book and Tract Table, and I sold two
books and distributed a quantity of free matter.

_December 5._ Am thoroughly on the road to the Book and Tract Table
in the church. Hope it may prove a good thing, and that I shall do
it _faithfully_.

_December 12._ Have been miserable all the week, and quite sick two
and a half hours Thursday. Couldn't raise my head, and had to
pretty much give up all day. Had sociable this week, and I was on
hand to urge the book trade, and hoped to have a supply to-day, but
was disappointed in it. It was one of the unsatisfactory days to
me, for I have had such a tremendous noise in my head that I
couldn't hear at all.

_December 19._ Held a meeting at Mrs. ----'s on Friday, with regard
to the Woman's Auxiliary Missionary work. It has been decided that
I am to take charge of distribution of Liberal publications, also
to canvass for the "Register." Had Mr. Mayo to preach for us
to-day. I was astonished to hear how well I heard him, and how
_natural_ it seemed. It made my cross all the heavier in contrast.
[The sonnet, "Strength for the Day," by Rachel G. Alsop, is copied
to close this day's record.]

_Feb. 10, 1881._ Began committing "A Statement of Unitarian Belief
in Bible Language."

_February 13._ I have felt rather depressed this week, and _needed_
the church to-day, which did do me good, as I heard more of the
sermon than I have heard for thirteen years.

_February 20._ Sermon to-day on "Are ye good Hearers?" I think my
remark to Mr. Wendte last Sunday must have called it forth.... Mr.
Wendte made the following beautiful tribute to the deaf.... I heard
just enough to overcome me, and thought two or three times that I
should break down. Have cried and laughed over the sermon.

A long extract is copied into the journal, of which this is a portion:--

"Blindness only separates a man from Nature, but the loss of
hearing also isolates him, more or less, from human companionship.
As a natural consequence, the deaf are apt to lose interest in the
social life around them, and to grow discontented, suspicious, and
morose. You and I know beautiful examples to the contrary,--persons
so patient, brave, and uncomplaining amidst their heavy
tribulation, so sunny of temper and full of human kindness, that
they are a constant inspiration and joy to us. Yet theirs is a hard
struggle, to remain true and sweet and Christian with such fearful
odds against them in the journey of life."

_February 27._ Am becoming quite interested in missionary work in
Ravenna, Ohio.

"We scatter seeds with careless hand,
And dream we ne'er shall see them more;
But for a thousand years
Their fruit appears,
In weeds that mar the land,
Or healthful store."

_March 13._ To-day is my forty-sixth birthday, and I am about
ready, or rather have resolved, to open a Circulating Library in
the church, as quite a number are in favor of it. We organized our
Women's Auxiliary Conference last Tuesday, of a rainy day: Mrs.
Fayette Smith, President; Mrs. Alice Williams Brotherton,
Vice-president; Fannie Field, Treasurer and Recording Secretary;
Miss Ellis, Corresponding Secretary; Executive Committee (with the
above), Mrs. Davies Wilson, Miss Elizabeth D. Allen.

The foundation of the Circulating Library was Miss Ellis's own collection of religious books. Book lovers know what this sacrifice would have been to a less generous nature, one less intent on helping others. Additions were made by gifts from individuals and authors, and by Miss Ellis's occasional purchase of some book whose need she felt, until the library now numbers over one hundred and thirty volumes. These books were loaned at church, and by mail all over the country.

A letter to Rev. A. A. Livermore reveals the brisk, happy, and business-like Miss Ellis of the later years, with her hands at last full of work for her denomination. It also records the advent of her first correspondent, Mr. Julius Woodruff.

MARCH 10, 1881.

I have been better in health this winter than for many years,--for
a severe winter is all the better for me,--and have been able to
keep _very_ busy. Mr. Wendte has made me chairman of a Book and
Tract Table in the church, which has kept me very busy; and in
addition, the Unity Club made me Corresponding Secretary of their
Sunday Afternoon Lecture Committee, which involved distributing the
tickets (one thousand) and then collecting the money on them.... In
the mean time, too, I was agent here for the "Register," had that
to attend to, besides attending to sale of books, paying for them,
and sending new orders, also "Unity" subscribers coming in, and
hunting up members for the Women's Auxiliary Conference, and
receiving their money. Now, do you not think for one who has always
been more spiritually inclined, that I have taken quite _too_ much
to money matters?