I was very glad to hear a little of our dear friend who spends this
happy New Year's Day freed from all ills of the body. I can hardly
realize that she is gone. She never gave me a hint that she was
seriously ill, but always spoke cheerfully. It is such a short time
ago that I wrote to her as usual, not having the remotest thought
that she would never answer my letter. Her last letters to me are
dated Nov. 6 and 18, and, singularly enough, are almost entirely
taken up with remarks upon death and affliction. Not a word of
herself, however....
Miss Ellis wrote me two letters full of kindness and sympathy, and
sending cheering words to my sister; for she wrote, "Though I don't
know her, I feel deeply for her." It really is hardly possible to
estimate the influence, both direct and indirect, which Miss Ellis
has had upon my life. It is a very long story, this of my inquiries
in religious matters. I have always looked forward to the day when
I should see our friend and speak to her of it, and make some
expression of my gratitude to her. But it is not to be,--not in
this life, at least. Hereafter her letters shall be a source of
constant encouragement to me. I have them all, and glad I am of it,
for through them she will yet speak to me. I often wished to have a
photograph of her, and I am very sorry now that I too long
hesitated to take the first step in making a mutual exchange. Often
when weary through the day's work I have been cheered by her kind
letters. But this is only one limited instance of her influence.
For years I went to my daily work sad and heavy of heart because
life was aimless, almost dead. By the printed page Miss Ellis
showed me God,--God living, working, right here now, daily
surrounding me and all men. And lo! life has an aim, is full of
beauty and goodness and joy.... All this I owe to her.
In response to a request for letters, he wrote: