AN APPRECIATION OF NELLIE N. RUSSELL
By Charles Frederic Goss,
Her Pastor in Chicago
It is common enough to find persons endowed with one, two, or even three of those four great elemental qualities out of which the noblest souls are made—an inviolable conscience, profound intellect, irresistible will, and illimitable affections. But to meet a man or woman having all is as moving as it is uncommon. Our Nellie Russell had all. For four years she was an inmate of our home and, during all her remarkable career as a missionary in China, we kept in the closest possible touch with her and her work. As a result of this intimate acquaintance we learned to look upon her as an unique and even wonderful woman. Life took hold of her with tremendous power and so did she of life. To see all things clearly, to feel her solemn responsibility to every soul that crossed her path, to act with decision and determination in every emergency, was as natural for her as to breathe. [[14]]Her great dark eyes were at some times like deep wells at the bottom of which truth lay, at others like stars emitting a tender light, and at others like hot coals flashing fires of generous and righteous wrath.
Righteousness never went unpraised nor unrighteousness unrebuked or unscourged by Nellie Russell. She loved the good and she hated the evil of life with equal ardor. Her sympathy for those in trouble cost her a sort of agony, her love for her friends was an undying passion. When she went to China she took its great people into her very heart. All men, women, and children were brothers and sisters to her, and to spend and be spent for them was a spiritual hunger.
During a memorable week of one of her vacations spent in our summer cottage we were made to marvel at her insight into human nature and into the great problems of life. As we listened to her modest story of her experience in the siege of Peking, or heard her merry, ringing laugh whenever the ludicrous elements in social intercourse or surroundings appeared; when, in our little motor-boat, we saw her great eyes beam with delight at some fresh form of nature’s loveliness and heard her exclaim with irrepressible enthusiasm as we floated here and there among the islands, “Oh, [[15]]it is as beautiful as the Orient!” we seemed to be in contact with the very soul of the universe in some peculiar manner.
And when we heard of her death! oh, that was hard indeed! Again and again we had written her that there was a room in our home reserved for her perpetual use. It was a cherished hope to have her with us when her work was done, but it was too good and great a hope for realization here.
If this seems like overpraise to you, just let it go at that. You did not know her, or you did not appreciate her. We never heard her overpraised! She has ever been and ever more must be a pure, inspiring presence in our lives. [[16]]