Among the many tributes paid at the time of Mr. Nelson's death, was one given by the Reverend Jesse Halsey, the beloved former minister of the Seventh Presbyterian Church, who culled the phrase "An Unmitered Bishop," a title which is signally descriptive of the man by reason of the many civic causes to which he was spiritual advisor, and thus a father-in-God to diverse groups scattered over the seven hills and in the "bottoms." He actively furthered many humanitarian causes: the Juvenile Protective Association, the Anti-Tuberculosis League, the Branch Hospital, the Community Chest, the Council of Social Agencies, the Helen S. Trounstine Foundation, the Hospital Social Service, St. Michael's Convalescent Home, and many others. Now that he is gone, the long list of social enterprises ceases to be a mere string of activities and becomes a roll of drums.[11] His whole life seems to exemplify the words of the philosopher Bacon: "The nobler a soul is, the more objects of compassion it hath." His spirit breathed out upon men, and in his lifetime the city felt its beauty and greatness, drawing from his constancy the courage to endure. He protested impatiently against the nonsense often bandied about concerning the alleged immorality of city folk compared with country folk, and cited confuting evidence out of his pastoral experience to prove his conviction saying, "Heroes of these days are the poor people who live in our big cities." One of the heroines of Cincinnati, though not one of the poor, was Helen S. Trounstine, a remarkable young woman of Jewish faith, who was responsible for making Mr. Nelson the first president of the Juvenile Protective Association. She was a pioneer in social service work, but her career was tragically cut short when she died at the early age of twenty-six. At her memorial service held in Christ Church Parish House January 21, 1917, Mr. Nelson made the principal address and some of his words indirectly reveal much of himself: I remember the organization of the Juvenile Protective Association; I first met her then. I had never known her before and I said to myself: "Here is another person with an enthusiasm come to complicate my life." I tried to get out of it, but because I wanted to help little children (I built this parish house for the young people, making my people support it for their sake), and she knew it, with infinite patience and constant humor and courtesy she kept forcing me, until gradually she landed me in the Presidency of the Juvenile Protective Association, utterly ignorant of what I was to do or what was to be done. And with the same humor and patience she went ahead and did the work and made me and the board responsible for it--made us stand behind her, until at last we were ashamed that our consciences were so dull and poor that we had not seen it long ago. And then we set out to do something.