"I have received a paper and often something else every other week. These I have accepted as a kind of trust; and when there has been a favorable opportunity, given them away to friends and acquaintances. I do not press them on any one, nor talk about it much. I have not the courage of a reformer. When I speak to friends (that are kind every other way) of a broader religious belief, they meet me with coldness and distrust. It chills me, and I am silent. Yet I believe, with Helen Williams, if any one is brought to face a great truth, if they accept it, yet do not speak or act upon it, there is retribution, barrenness, for them,--a plunging in the whale's belly, as Jonah was,--a figure so many have laughed at, yet significant for all that. I wonder now at my struggles in former years; am happier since the tangled skein is partially straightened. Still I am not fully in accord with the Unitarians. Miss ---- [another correspondent in the same village] spoke to me some time ago of your desiring us to form a reading circle. I do not know what she said to you. I will give you the situation. I live in a small village of about one hundred inhabitants, and Miss ---- lives about two miles away. I cannot call to mind a woman that would take any interest. They would go to sleep over their knitting, or want to use the time for social chat, as they do not meet day after day at the village store, as the men do (I speak of winter). True, there are a few that would enjoy the reading, yet are so severely Orthodox they could not comprehend a new truth outside of _their_ church. That is the dark side. Now I have often thought if we had a place of meeting, where we could seat a small audience (which we have not), and a good reader (ditto), we could call them together Sunday afternoons and read some of the beautiful sermons you have sent. "Your work is grand,--the elevation of the human race. The ones that _will_ read, will become better, kindlier, more patient with ignorance; and while they yearn to give every soul a chance, will naturally throw out a better influence and teach a broader religion. As to your paper, not now. It is midwinter; husband, carpenter, out of employment. Intend to take one of your publications after a while." About two weeks after Miss Ellis's death she addressed this letter to her:-- MY DEAR FRIEND,--I received a "Register" yesterday, directed in a different hand. Are you sick? I hope not. I should grieve indeed if I knew that physical pain had stopped your work. These lines come to my mind:--