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.