COMMENCES THE UNIVERSALIST EXPOSITOR.
During the year 1831 Mr. Ballou commenced, with his nephew, Rev. Hosea
Ballou 2d, the editorship of the "Universalist Expositor," a quarterly
publication. He continued for two years as editor of the work, and
afterwards as a regular contributor for a number of years.
In November, 1834, Mr. Ballou was again induced to make the cities of
New York and Philadelphia a professional visit. He had, previous to this
date, and repeatedly afterwards, been earnestly solicited to settle in
New York, as well as in Philadelphia. Indeed, a systematic effort was
made in the former city to obtain his services permanently, and he was
offered the pecuniary consideration of several hundred dollars more per
annum than he then or ever after received from the Second Universalist
Society in Boston. Besides this increase in salary, there were several
other important inducements offered in order to influence him to settle
among them. But Mr. Ballou had, after so many years' residence and
pastorship in this city and over a society he so much loved, become
deeply and ardently attached to the associations of his charge, and had
formed ties of friendship and love that were almost too strong to sever.
He, however, returned an answer at last to these reiterated applications
and proposals, that he would lay the subject before his society, and
they should decide the matter for him. The society in New York signified
their willingness to have the matter thus settled; and he accordingly
represented the same to the Second Universalist Society, telling them
exactly his own feelings, and bidding them to decide the matter for him.
There was but one voice in the society; the feelings he had expressed
were entirely reciprocated; the vote that he must remain with them, was
unanimous; there was not one dissenting voice. He had been tried, and
found faithful. Cheerfully acquiescing in this decision, the subject was
dropped,--an understanding being had, and indeed a promise given on Mr.
Ballou's part, that he would visit New York professionally as often and
for as long a period at a time as he could make it convenient.
The following letter was written to his wife from New York, during his
visit to that city in this year. It is one in his usual style, and will
show the reader the tender relationship of his domestic associations,
and also the reliance in Divine Providence which ever actuated him. He
never wrote the briefest letter without expressing the same religious
sentiment. The letter is dated New York, October 30, 1834.
"MY DEAR: It is with gratitude to the kind Protector of our lives,
that I inform you of our comfortable health. We had a very good
passage from Boston to this city, except that the sea was quite
boisterous, which caused our daughters to be quite sea-sick during
the night. We arrived in this city about nine o'clock, A. M., and
were kindly received by Col. Harson and family, where we are at
home until to-morrow morning, when we expect to leave for
Philadelphia. Clementina and Fiducia" (the two daughters with him)
"rode about the city yesterday, and had a view of nearly all its
beauties. We took tea with Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer last evening, where
we had the pleasure of meeting with Bro. Fuller, who will supply my
desk and bring you this letter. I preached in Bro. Le Fevre's
church on Tuesday evening, and have an appointment in Bro. Sawyer's
church for this evening. I hope that your cold has subsided, and
that the family are in good health. You will remember that Bro.
Fuller is a stranger in Boston, and that he will need those
attentions which will make him feel at home. Give our love to all
the inmates of our house, and, by the blessing of Heaven, expect us
at the time appointed.
"Affectionately yours,
"HOSEA BALLOU."
"Ruth Ballou."
We need hardly pause here to analyze this letter. The reader will at
once recognize, in its composition, the affectionate husband and father,
the devout Christian, and the thoughtful friend, all of which were
innate qualities in the writer's heart. The address of the letter was
the style he always adopted towards his wife. The commencement of the
same is a perfect type of his constant acknowledgment of the Divine
favor. The reference to the children who were with him, evinced the same
thoughtfulness for their enjoyment and comfort that exercised his mind
to his last days; his inquiry for his wife's health, hoping that her
"cold" was better, was another evidence of his solicitous affection for
his companion; and, finally, his recommending the bearer as he
did,--"You will remember that Bro. Fuller is a stranger in Boston, and
that he will need those attentions which will make him feel at
home,"--are all most significant of his mind and heart.
"Immediately after my first visit to Philadelphia," says Mr. Ballou, "a
second society was formed, and a large meeting-house was built in
Callowhill. From this society I received a very urgent invitation to
become their pastor; but, as my Boston friends felt desirous to have me
stay with them, I could not think it my duty, for a few hundred dollars
more remuneration for my services annually, to leave them, as my salary
was at that time sufficient for my wants. So late as the year 1844, by
invitation from the Callowhill society, I visited and preached for them
for four weeks. While I was there, my friends proposed sending to Boston
for Mrs. Ballou, with a desire that I would continue with them for an
indefinite period. But my age admonished me not to undertake too much."
We may add here the following memorandum from notes which he gave the
author of these pages relative to a subject before alluded to,
concerning the matter of a larger pecuniary offer for his professional
services:
"At one time, while I tarried in New York, the Pine-street Society
presented me with a pressing invitation to settle with them, offering me
some hundreds of dollars more than I was then receiving for my
professional services, to induce me to remove to New York city. This
official invitation, together with a very brotherly letter from the
society in New York to my own in Boston, in which they endeavored to
assign good reasons for my removal, I took with me to the Second
Universalist Society, in School-street. I had previously given my
friends in New York to understand that I would not be persuaded to leave
Boston, unless my society would give their cordial consent to such a
measure. After submitting this letter to my society, I was given to
understand, in an official manner, that, by a unanimous vote, my society
had resolved that I must remain with them. This of course ended the
matter, as their wish was my guide."
We have related these circumstances more particularly to show the reader
that Mr. Ballou was actuated by no mercenary motive in this matter, and
indeed to prove that it was a principle altogether foreign to his
character. We see that the offer of a greater pecuniary emolument (we
believe the New York society offered him eight hundred dollars more than
he was then receiving per annum, and also to bear the incidental
expenses attendant upon his removal) had no influence upon his mind. If
his society no longer desired his services, he was ready to leave them
at once. If they were still attached to him, and preferred his
ministration to that of any other individual, no pecuniary inducement
should part them. We may use his own words, and say that the evidence of
the unabated regard of the people of his charge, of their undiminished
attachment to him and his services, rendered him far happier than any
amount of silver and gold could possibly have done. Indeed, there was
not one spark of mercenary feeling existing in his heart; it was
contrary to his very nature.
Those who knew Mr. Ballou best were well aware of his punctilious
notions as it concerned money affairs. He would not himself owe any man,
and he liked "short settlements," believing in the old adage that they
"make long friends." He was scrupulously exact in his dealings, and
would be careful not to be overpaid or underpaid in a money transaction;
and these peculiarities may have, with some, led to a belief that he was
penurious in his disposition, though this was by no means the case.
Could we with propriety refer to his numerous private deeds of charity,
to the open-handed dealing that evinced the generous nature of his
disposition and the liberality of his heart, we could exhibit a list of
facts that would disabuse the mind of any one of such an unfavorable
impression. We feel tenacious upon this point, realizing as we do the
untruth of any such deduction; and for any one to make such a remark or
inference, would be at once to expose his own personal ignorance of the
man.
Mr. Ballou was not one to give injudiciously; he was not lavish in his
bestowals; but what he gave to charitable purposes, more or less, he was
careful to know would be productive of real benefit. Once satisfied of
the worthiness of the purpose, he always gave in accordance with his
means. His generosity was unostentatious, and sought such channels as
run beneath the shades of domestic necessities, rather than those
exhibited on hilltops, or that advertise themselves in open places. The
author of these pages has witnessed from childhood a most liberal and
charitable spirit as exercised by the subject of this memoir.
When he was solicited for assistance, he always listened attentively to
every appeal, and carefully examined the case and its merits, when,
being satisfied of its claims for aid, he not only gave himself, but
took pains to interest others for the same end. At times he would call
on his society, either collectively or individually, and thus do a great
good by affording timely pecuniary aid, in many cases. He never asked of
a person his religion before he gave him in charity; all were considered
as members of the same great family, and "where want resided, he knew
the door." The needy found in him a firm and judicious friend; one who
was careful not to do them a harm, in the spirit of kindness, by
encouraging a slothful or idle spirit, but who sent them away wiser and
happier than they came to his door.
"Among the many moral duties," says Mr. Ballou, "which contribute to the
mitigation of the misfortunes of human life, and to administer to the
enjoyments of social beings, that of charitably bestowing a part of what
a liberal Providence has put into our hands, on those who have been
unfortunate in the loss of property, or by sickness, or other
unavoidable visitations, should claim our earnest attention. This virtue
at once combines many moral excellences, and seems to call into action
some of the best qualities of our social nature. It is that, too, which
seems to resemble the bountiful conduct of the Giver of every good and
perfect gift; and in some degree compares with the grace of our Lord
Jesus Christ, who, though he was rich, for our sake became poor, that we
through his poverty might be made rich, and greatly ornaments the gospel
professions of brotherly love. This, too, is a virtue which never loses
sight of the good of its agent, who, being blessed with the genuine
spirit of heaven-born charity, realizes that it is more blessed to give
than to receive. Nor is there anything more acceptable to the Divine
mind of universal goodness, than to see rational beings exerting
themselves to assist one another. 'To do good and communicate, forget
not, for with such sacrifice God is well pleased.'"
While Mr. Ballou was in Philadelphia during the year 1834, he preached
nine sermons, which, like those delivered in the same city at the close
of 1821 and the commencement of '22, were taken down by a stenographer
in short-hand, and published in a volume of two hundred pages. In the
preface to this volume, which, having been, like its predecessor,
obtained through the reporter, was never seen by the author until in
print, Rev. Abel C. Thomas, the publisher, makes the following remarks;
valuable as coming from a discriminating and intelligent mind, and one
which would scorn flattery as it would falsehood.
"Mr. Ballou is in the sixty-fourth year of his age, yet his eye is not
dim, nor his natural force abated. His public communications are
distinguished by extraordinary penetration, perfect knowledge of human
nature, aptness of illustration, and closeness of reasoning. In private
intercourse he manifests the feelings of a heart baptized into the
spirit of the living God. It is impossible to listen to his public
exhibitions of love divine without according to him the meed of
sincerity and intellectual power, and it is equally impossible to mingle
with him in the walks of social life without loving him from the heart."
Mr. Ballou was in the habit of making frequent use of the scriptural
story of Joseph and his brethren, the parable of the Prodigal Son, the
case of Saul of Tarsus, and other familiar parables, to illustrate the
doctrinal points of his discourses upon the holy text. These
illustrations, however, were always apt and appropriate, and any one who
reads the Scriptures must very well know that these parables present
almost innumerable bearings. Although he never did so without
communicating some new point or bearing in the narrative, yet the
frequency of these references was argued by some as an objection to his
style of preaching. In reference to this subject, Rev. Abel C. Thomas,
in an appendix to the book referred to, relates the following
anecdote:--
"After the delivery of a certain discourse in one of our cities, by Mr.
Ballou, one Universalist minister said to another, in a good-natured
way, 'The old man is always _harping_ on Joseph and his brethren, the
Prodigal Son, and Saul of Tarsus.' 'Well,' said the other, 'it is a good
harp, nevertheless, and Mr. Ballou knows how to play upon it. He always
plays a new tune, and I could listen to him all night.'"
His book of nine sermons embraces some of the most stirring and able
arguments that the author ever produced, and it has been read by more
persons probably than any book of the same character in the country. The
first edition was a large one, but was rapidly followed by others.
Mr. Ballou ever delighted in promoting the innocent amusement of his
children in every reasonable way. He never adopted that stern and
unapproachable disguise that but too often estranges the affections of
the child from the parent. He was fond at times of unbending, as it
were, from the extreme tension of mental effort, and entering into the
childish amusements of his family circle; it was only long enough,
however, to endear himself to that circle, for his time was too precious
to admit of much relaxation, however grateful this might be to his
feelings.
It was not with the subject of this biography as with those who wear two
faces, one when at home and another when abroad; there was no deceit in
him; he carried forth from his home the same face he wore there, the
same aspect of mind and body, evincing precisely the same
characteristics in public as he did in private. He knew no change, but
was always eminently natural everywhere.
His social character was such as ardently to endear him to every member
of his large family. While he maintained the dignity and authority
appropriate to his general character, still he ever evinced an
exuberance of good nature, and was amiable, gentle, and even playful at
times, in his domestic and public intercourse.
During the year 1834, Mr. Ballou wrote and published a work entitled,
"An Examination of the Doctrine of Future Retribution," contained in one
volume of three hundred pages. This is affectionately dedicated to the
second Universalist Society of Boston, as a token of regard, by the
author, who had so long presided over this brotherhood in the most happy
fellowship.
In the following extract from the preface to this book, the reader will
find not only the spirit of the work referred to, but will also observe
that the author states, in plain and unmistakable terms, some important
points of his faith,--points wherein he differed from some respected
brethren of the order, but which, however, form almost the universal
belief of the mass of Universalists. Our quotation from this preface
commences as follows:--
"It has always remained the fixed resolution of the writer of the
following essay to keep a mind open to conviction; always active in
investigating religious truth; constantly ready to profess and hold
forth any opinion, however unpopular, and however opposed by divines, by
the schools, or by his dearest friends, when convinced of its truth.
This course has led him to give up many religious tenets which were
taught him in his youth, and not a few which were embraced by the
denomination to which he has from his youth belonged. Travelling this
course, he early renounced the doctrine of endless punishment; the
doctrine of the Trinity; that of native depravity; that of the
imputation of sin and of righteousness; that of the vicarious sufferings
of Christ; and, nearly eighteen years ago, the doctrine of punishment in
the future state. It has been his lot to meet with much opposition on
most of these points, from various denominations, and not the least
strenuous from those of the denomination with which he has been happy to
hold connection. For the painful travail endured from all this
opposition, he has been abundantly compensated by seeing the rapid
advance of the doctrines which he has embraced and endeavored to
advocate.
"The object of the writer of the following pages is to place his views,
respecting the doctrine of a future state of retribution, before the
public, and to preserve his arguments on that subject, that when the
time shall come, as he believes it will, when people in general will
number the tenet of future punishment among those corruptions of
Christianity which will then be abandoned, it may be known that the
writer disbelieved it in his day; and also that the arguments with which
he opposed it may then be known.
"Universalists now take a pleasure in looking back and tracing, from
Origen down to our time, the progress of the doctrine which embraces the
salvation of all men; and so they will doubtless continue to do in
future ages.
"Some may query whether a proper regard to the opinions and feelings of
honest, faithful, and affectionate brethren, who believe in the doctrine
of future retribution, but yet earnestly contend for final restoration,
would not incline the writer to be silent on the subject, and not to
come out with this publication. To this inquiry it is replied, that such
brethren, with their many commendable qualities, are warmly cherished in
the affections of the writer's heart, nor are they the less regarded
because they do not adopt his opinions. And he feels confident that such
brethren will entertain no suspicions of his want of respect for them.
They will not fail to consider that the views of the writer, on the
subject of retribution, are not so wide from theirs as theirs are from
the views of those authors whom they quote as authority in support of
future retribution. They would doubtless sooner embrace the opinion of
no future sin and misery, than defend the doctrine maintained by that
good man, exemplary Christian, and faithful minister, Elhanan
Winchester, which supposed that the wicked, in the world to come, would
suffer, for ages and ages, inconceivable torment in literal fire and
brimstone. Such torment is now denied by our doctors, who maintain
_endless_ punishment, and rejected also by those who believe in a state
hereafter of discipline which shall end in an entire reformation. Such
brethren will also cordially respond to the assurance that the writer of
the following work will never withhold a sincere fellowship from a
faithful brother, because he disagrees with him on the doctrine of
divine retribution.
"It is very possible that some, who have a strong desire that nothing
should be done which should tend, in the least, to endanger the harmony
and cordial fellowship of Universalists, may think that prudence would,
at least, plead for a delay, and suggest the propriety of deferring this
publication to some future time, when it might give less offence. Such
may be assured that their good wishes for the harmony and fellowship of
our order are duly respected; but they cannot be ignorant of the fact
that the doctrine of a future state of punishment has been disbelieved,
by ministering brethren of our order, for many years, and that much has
been published with a view to disprove that doctrine; and, moreover,
that now that doctrine is generally disbelieved by Universalists of our
connection; and yet much harmony prevails, and our fellowship remains,
and is warmly cherished between brethren whose opinions disagree on the
subject of this doctrine. The writer would further remark, that both
age and infirmity admonish him that what he feels it his duty to do, he
ought not to delay; and he cannot believe that any of his brethren can
feel, in the least, wounded because their aged brother should finish his
labors in accordance with the dictates of his own understanding. It is a
happy circumstance, that in the denomination of Universalists, no one
feels bound to defend and support the particular opinions of another,
any further than he is himself convinced of their truth and importance.
Our platform of faith is general, and allows individuals an extensive
latitude to think freely, investigate minutely, and to adopt what
particular views best comport with the honest convictions of the mind,
and fearlessly to avow and defend the same."
In perusing this book, or indeed any of Mr. Ballou's numerous works, the
reader cannot fail to be struck with the complete simplicity and purity
of the author's style, at the same time being deeply impressed with the
magnitude of the subject treated upon: he finds the book to be more like
a familiar friend with whom he is conversing, than the deep logical work
it really is. This is caused by the peculiar clearness and force of the
style, while all is so conceived and put down as to be within scope of
the humblest understanding. All his comparisons and illustrations are
drawn from the most familiar objects about us, bringing our every-day
life and experience to bear upon the theme; and thus his arguments were
doubly forcible and plain. It was the common remark that little
children could understand his sermons, and remember the moral
inculcated. "If I can only make my subject so plain that children will
understand me," he once said in relation to this subject, "my purpose
will be gained, and I shall not be preaching in vain." Probably there
never was a public speaker who possessed more fully the power of making
himself perfectly and clearly understood, in every bearing of his
subject, than did Mr. Ballou. This was commonly remarked of him by all,
and more especially by those in his own profession of the ministry, who
had learned by experience what a difficult matter it sometimes is to
impress an audience with the precise idea intended by the speaker.
About this date, in Mr. Ballou's manuscript memoranda he says:--"I well
remember a conversation I had with a learned doctor of divinity of this
city, some years ago. It happened that we were both going into the
country, and took the same stage. We had not travelled far before the
doctor very politely addressed me, expressing a desire to know my
opinion on a certain passage of Scripture, as he did not know how it was
explained by those of my opinion in religious matters. The stage being
quite full of gentlemen who were strangers to me, but to whom I was
doubtless well known, I was somewhat surprised that the learned divine
should introduce a scriptural subject, and especially one concerning
which he supposed we entertained different views. However, I was well
satisfied that he expected to see me embarrassed in presence of the
passengers, whose curiosity was evidently excited. I replied that I was
not unwilling, on any proper occasion, to give my views on any passage
of Scripture when desired to do so, provided I was satisfied in my own
mind concerning its true meaning.
"There was the most profound attention evinced, and the doctor
introduced Gal. 6: 7 and 8. 'Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for
whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he reap. For he that soweth to his
flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the
spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting:' the passage being one
with which many occasions had made me quite familiar. I replied
immediately, as follows: 'I presume, sir, you will understand all you
wish to know of my views of this text, if you hear me repeat it, and
duly observe where I lay especial emphasis;--Be not deceived: God is not
mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap. For he that
soweth to his _flesh_ shall of the _flesh_ reap corruption; but he that
soweth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting.' The
moment I pronounced the words of the text thus, there was a smile on the
countenances of all in the stage, and a movement which signified
satisfaction. I merely remarked, in conclusion, that no man who should
sow in one field, would think of going to another to reap. The doctor
made me no reply, nor did he ask any more questions.
"The above is but a sample," continues Mr. Ballou, "of the unnumbered
cases in which I have seen how utterly abortive is a liberal education,
with the addition of a theological school, in freeing the human mind
from religious errors. So far from effecting any such desirable end,
these so highly esteemed advantages generally serve to puff up the mind
and heart with pride, and close every avenue through which light might
be received."
The engrossing habits of a student, and the employment of a large
portion of his time in writing, brought upon Mr. Ballou the weakness in
his left side, before referred to, and which was still more augmented by
his continued use of the pen. This trouble became at last a seated and
irreparable one, and a source of much bodily suffering to him until the
close of his life, though serious attacks of it were but transient, and
usually lasting but a few hours at a time. This affection was of rather
a peculiar character, so that when anything occurred, of an unpleasant
nature, to trouble or distress his mind,--bad news of any sort, the
sudden death of a relative or friend, or any matter of this
character,--it would seem to affect the weak side, and there distress
him.
Mr. Ballou was often solicited, by letters from a distance, for his
autograph, with which he complied in a brief line, most generally; but
personal applications for this object were very frequent during his
journeyings from home. Being asked for his autograph by a young lady in
one of the neighboring towns, who handed him her album for the purpose,
he sat down and wrote the following verses impromptu, and which have
been handed to us for insertion here. They will serve to show his ready
power of versification; he never studied to be a poet, nor ever
_labored_ upon a piece of poetical composition. He found little time to
plant and rear flowers along his pathway of life. At an early period the
soil he tilled was of too bold and rugged a character to cultivate aught
save the sterling literal seeds of truth, the sweetness of whose
blossoms is fragrance to the soul. If subsequently he sometimes plucked
a lily or watered a rose-bud, it has been at breathing-spells between
the holding of the plough and the planting of seed in his Master's
vineyard. He lacked not for refinement and delicacy of taste, or for the
natural promptings of the poet, but there was more important business
for him to perform, and he realized too fully his responsibility to
allow himself to forget for a moment the great aim and business of his
mission. The poem referred to above is entitled
THE MYRTLE.
"Come, take the wreath I've twined for thee,
'Tis wet with morning dew;
And lessons rare of love and truth
These flowers shall bring to you.
The half-blown rose, whose spotless leaves
Speak of thy hopes as fair,
And spicy balm, with healing breath,
Are mingling odors there.
The sweet geranium so green
A fragrance doth impart,
True as the gentle breath of love,
That fills the youthful heart.
But most of all I'd have thee mark
The modest myrtle bough;
It speaks of love that e'er will be
As pure and bright as now.
For though the rose may fade and die,
The balm may cease to cure,
Through summer's light and winter's shade
The MYRTLE will endure.
Then take the wreath I've twined for thee,
'Tis wet with morning dew;
And many a lesson true of love
These flowers shall bring to you."
We find a letter among our papers, written about the period of which we
now speak. It is from his pen, and bears date New York, April 21st,
1839, on the occasion of a brief visit to that city, and was addressed
to the author of these pages.
"MATURIN: A kind Providence brought me to this city early yesterday
morning. I had a very pleasant passage hither, and the good company
and kind attention of Capt. Parker. I am at the Walton House, which
was Washington's head quarters during the Revolutionary war. It is
now between nine and ten o'clock, Sabbath morning. My health is
good as when I left home. My friends expect me to preach three
sermons this day and evening. Whether I shall return on Monday to
Boston, or remain another week here, I have not now the means of
determining. I pray God to preserve the health of the family, and
return me soon to enjoy that circle from which it is painful to be
absent, though I have every attention and necessary accommodation
for my comfort. Take good care of your health, and tell your mother
that I shall endeavor to be careful of mine.
"Affectionately,
"HOSEA BALLOU."
"M. M. BALLOU."
This, and a private letter previously given in these pages, are not made
public for any particular information they communicate, but simply to
show the reader the feelings of the writer as expressed between himself
and those whom he loved and in whom he confided. These letters might be
greatly multiplied, but this would perhaps serve our object no better
purpose. If a hundred were to be submitted to the reader, they would
convey no other spirit than is evinced by the two already given. Mr.
Ballou's private correspondence was never very extensive; his letters
were nearly all of a domestic nature, or brief notes relating to
exchanges with other brethren at a distance. The reason that his letters
were so much of this nature, was, that when he transcribed his thoughts
to paper it was for the press. Most men of strong and active minds are
in the practice of relieving them, as it were, by writing down their
thoughts, from time to time, to valued friends; it is a sort of
necessary relief that some minds could not get along without. But Mr.
Ballou's writings were so universally made public, and he was so
constantly supplying the public press with matter, even to the very last
week of his life, that his mind and pen were quite sufficiently worked
in this vein, without seeking any other channel.
During the fall of 1843, Mr. Ballou, then at the age of seventy-two
years, made a long journey to the West, to attend the national
convention of Universalists, held at Akron, Ohio. On the route thither,
in company with Rev. Thomas Whittemore and some other friends, he
visited, for the first time, Niagara Falls. Mr. Whittemore, in writing
home a description of their visit to his paper, the Trumpet,
said:--"When we came to Table Rock, Father Ballou stood in amazement,
and when we urged him to go back over the river before dark, 'Oh!' said
he, 'how can I go away?' He said his thoughts were like those of Peter
on one occasion: 'It is good to be here; let us build tabernacles, and
dwell upon the spot.' A prism was handed to him, through which he could
see the rapids in colors ineffably glorious. 'Oh! my soul! oh! glory to
God!' were his exclamations."
No man had a more thorough appreciation of all that was grand and noble
in nature, no one a keener eye for her myriads of charms that gladden
our daily lives and illumine the pathway of life.
"We heard him, for the first time," says the editor of the American
Phrenological Journal, "at a Universalist general convention, Akron,
Ohio, in September, 1843, where he preached to a very large gathering,
with the ablest men in the denomination preceding and following him.
Many of them delivered more elaborate and carefully studied discourses,
but there was no other who made the brown faces of the old farmers so
fairly _shine_ with admiration and delight as 'Father Ballou.' Many of
them had heard him in New England thirty or forty years previous, and
now, hearing that he was to attend the convention, had come thirty or
forty miles to listen to him once again, and for the last time on earth.
Though then past man's allotted period of 'threescore years and ten,'
his distinctness of utterance, clearness of statement, aptness of
illustration, and force of argument, might well have been taken as a
model by a young preacher; and, though he spoke more than an hour, a
very general regret was evident that he closed so soon. In person Mr.
Ballou was tall and slight, with a bearing of unaffected meekness and
humility."
In the summer of the succeeding year he made another visit to New York
and Philadelphia, in accordance with the promise made some years before,
to come as often and for as long a period as was convenient to him, and
also in compliance with the earnest solicitations of the societies in
both these cities at that time. As we have before remarked, he had
formed many personal friends in both these cities, and it was, as we
have heard him often declare, refreshing to his heart to meet them and
enjoy their liberal and kind hospitality. He felt, too, an earnest
solicitude for the spiritual welfare of those societies, before whom he
had so often spoken with such satisfaction to himself and profit to
them. During this journey southward, by the solicitations of the
societies in Baltimore, Mr. Ballou extended his visit to that city,
where he stopped for a short period, which time he improved by the
delivery of sermons day and evening. On his return to Boston, he
preached a sermon, we well remember, relative to the condition of the
cause of Universalism, and was made glad at heart by the state in which
he found it in these cities, and at being able to make such goodly
report at home. It was like the husbandman going abroad in his master's
vineyard, and counting the harvest of his lord, which he had himself
planted.
The kind and hospitable treatment which Mr. Ballou always received, in
the cities particularly of New York and Philadelphia, seems to have made
a most indelible impression upon his heart. Often has he spoken of it in
his family circle, until we have felt almost as though we had
individually shared the delightful reunions which he described. True, it
was thus wherever he visited, as it regarded making warm and lasting
friends, but he has left memorandums that signify his remembrance more
particularly of the societies of these cities. He says:--"In New York
and Philadelphia, I have ever been made by the brethren to feel that I
was at _home_; kind hearts and hands have ever greeted me in either
place, and some of the happiest and most profitable moments of my life I
think have been passed in ministering to the beloved societies in these
places. Had my Heavenly Father seen fit to render my services less happy
and fortunate in their result in Boston, I should have found a happy
home in either New York or Philadelphia. As it is, my frequent visits to
both have afforded me undiminished satisfaction, and much social
enjoyment. My sincere prayers are constantly offered for their
happiness, well-being, and spiritual good." The great and moving cause
of his exerting such an influence by his words and manners over the
minds of people in his religious teachings, as well as his private
intercourse, was the spirit of sincerity that imbued every motion, while
the beauty and purity of his moral character seemed to sanctify every
word and action, which emanated from him. With not the slightest stain
upon his character from boyhood, he was such a being as people could
afford to reverence, respect, and love.
Through the whole of his long and active career, Mr. Ballou never once
turned aside from the one great object and purpose of his heart, that of
promulgating God's fatherly and impartial love to all mankind, as
evinced in the holy Scriptures and the dispensations of Providence.
In a poem, ending with the two following verses, he has himself
expressed his devoted zeal better than we can do.
"Not all thy foes on earth can say
Can turn my heart from thee away;
And yet my heart is free;
These wounds and scars, that men despise,
Are jewels precious in thine eyes,
And this is all to me.
"Had I ten thousand years to live,
Had I ten thousand lives to give,
All these should be thine own;
And that foul scorn thy foes bestow
Still prove a laurel to my brow,
And their contempt a throne."
In this service he never wrote or uttered a single sentence that was not
peculiar to himself for its plainness of purpose, yet depth of thought,
and for strong logical reasoning to this grand end. He possessed for his
purpose a large share of ready, manly eloquence, not nervous and
startling, but cool and convincing; and this, coupled with a natural
quickness in discovering the strength or weakness of an argument, ever
insured him victory in religious controversy. No sarcasm, no reflection,
no imputation could throw him off his guard for one moment. He was ever
unruffled, yet forcible, evincing the spirit of the doctrine which he
advocated at all times. It was perfectly impossible to so excite him in
controversy as to lead him to say the least ungentlemanly, or even
abrupt thing. He stood for years as a target for the poisoned arrows of
malice, bigotry and envy, and bore all with a serene dignity of spirit,
which a firm reliance in Heaven could alone have given.
In his public teachings he never indulged in abstractions, never ran
away from his theme, upon abstruse and visionary ideas. He was in this
respect, as in all others, eminently natural, eminently practical,
eminently _original_. We do not find nature teaching us by adducing
vague notions of facts, but rather by a display of the facts themselves.
Abstractions and transcendentalisms are but thick fogs to cloud the
mental vision, while plain matter-of-fact is the clear, bright view of
truth, with the soft, rich perspective of wisdom. It is exceedingly
questionable, when we hear a minister dilating upon the arts and
sciences, or leading his hearers off in a vein of visionary philosophy,
whether that man has a religion worth preaching, or that is congenial to
his own heart.
"He _was a man of great originality and remarkable power_," says Rev.
Mr. Miner. "He walked not in a beaten track. His method of
interpretation was all his own; it was evolved by the new faith which
inspired him, and maintained throughout a self-consistency unknown to
biblical writers fifty years ago. Though his labor consisted in dealing
with the most familiar statements, yet he never failed to shed upon his
theme a new and diviner light, and to invest it with rare and universal
interest. It is no condemnation of his method of interpretation to say
that it seemed, to the perverted understanding of that time, to be
forced and unnatural. The value of this circumstance may be justly
estimated by the fact, that the current methods of the world have been
constantly assimilating to his method, ever since it has been in
conflict with them.
"It was in his style of exposition and clearness of illustration, rather
than in his form of statement, that his originality consisted. It was
manifested not so much by rhetorical aids, as by his vivid embodiment
of the principle he would inculcate. In the early part of his ministry,
he had too much hard work to do, too many open and covert foes to
contend with, too many hurtful errors to overthrow, to permit him to
loiter in the fields of literature for the gathering of verbal and
rhetorical bouquets. He needed not these aids. His thought was rare, and
burned with the truths of God. Howsoever expressed, it was sure to be
remembered. The hearer might have no recollection of the dress. Whether
clothed or unclothed, whether 'in the body or out of the body,' he might
not be able to say. One thing, however, he could say; a new thought,
glowing like the sun in the heavens, with a light all its own, had found
a place in his heart. He who possesses such a power need seek no other.
The trappings of literature can never do the work of truth. They may
dazzle the imagination; but truth alone can warm the heart. They may
lead to the admiration of man, but never to the adoration of God."
This is so much in the spirit of what we have before remarked, that the
quotation is most applicable.
Several short poems are introduced into these pages from Mr. Ballou's
pen. They are generally taken at random from his published fugitive
pieces, unless designed to illustrate some particular trait of character
or frame of mind, some cherished principle of the writer's heart. Though
we claim no fame for Mr. Ballou as a poet, yet his productions in this
line of composition are numerous. A volume of his poems has lately been
collected and published, but these pieces were thrown off in the hurry
of an editor's duty, and evince no care on the writer's part. He has
left us scraps of verse, however, which show that the power was native
in him, and the poet's genius a part of his natural endowment. The
verses that will close the last of this volume, though written in old
age, compare favorably with those of any production of the kind we have
ever met with. As late as the year 1844, he was an occasional
contributor of poems to the press, of a character calculated for the
times. These verses were given to the public under the signature of
"Spectator," and were designed to effect some prominent end, to reform
some acknowledged impropriety, or to commend that which was good and
useful. These, however, were never attributed to him, nor was it known
out of his family circle that he had written them. Some of them were
humorous, some pathetic, some patriotic. His poems were always easy and
liquid in versification, full of point and meaning, expressing much in a
few words, while the ideas are clothed in the sweetest garb of poesy.
Witness the following, which is the only one at hand at this time:
HYMN FOR FOURTH OF JULY.
"Arise and hail the jubilee,
The day that set our nation free;
In song his honor chant who gave
Counsel and victory to the brave.
Ye daughters fair, fresh garlands weave,
With chaplets strew the warrior's grave;
Lo! from the mould'ring sod shall rise
Fame's sweetest incense to the skies.
Fifty bright summer suns have smiled,
And fifty harvest moons beguiled
Childhood and youth, since vernal showers
First moistened freedom's lovely flowers.
Let joy throughout our land inspire
Each manly heart with holy fire;
And freedom's song, by Miriam sung,
Be heard from every female tongue."
We well remember to have been present on one occasion, when a
conversation took place between Mr. Ballou and a visitor who had come
from a distance on purpose to see and talk with him on the matter of
religion. He was vacillating in his faith, but was by no means persuaded
of the truth of Universalism. He was a man of wealth, had retired from
business, but having had his mind brought to a serious turn by a very
critical illness, which had nearly proved fatal to him, he had resolved
to make the Scriptures his study until he should be able to say that he
had joy and peace in believing. This he told Mr. Ballou, who commended
his resolution, promised to afford him any and all light within his own
power to impart, and sitting down together, they conversed for some
time.
"I cannot see," said the visitor at last, "why it is that a religion
which promises its believers and followers eternal life for obedience,
and the woe of eternal misery for disobedience, does not make more
truly religious people than your doctrine, which holds forth only
temporary evil for disobedience, and temporary reward for obedience. The
matter seems very plain to me."
"I will tell you the reason of this," said Mr. Ballou, "and in so doing
I will give you an evidence also of the truth of the doctrine I profess.
The reason is found in the very nature of man, his disposition, and
natural promptings. Give to him a task to perform, threaten him with the
most fearful sufferings and torment if he fail to accomplish the duty
you have prescribed for him, and his calculation will naturally be to do
just as little of the hated work as it is possible for him to do and
avoid the punishment. Now, on the other hand, you give him an occupation
which he is satisfied will be productive of his own happiness and good,
that in the very nature of things will produce him an ample and abundant
reward, and the selfishness natural to man will lead him to be
faithful."
"It would most certainly seem to be so," answered the visitor,
thoughtfully.
"Certainly this is plain philosophy," was the answer.
"But I do not exactly understand your application," said the stranger.
"That is just what I am coming to. Present to man a religion of which
the services are calculated to promote his rational enjoyment, which
takes nothing from him without returning more than its value, and in
the spirit of which increase of duty is an increase of happiness, and
there is but little danger but that they will eagerly accept it. This
world is full of labor, toil, and traffic, and the whole is carried on
by the power of this principle."
"I must acknowledge that religion has seemed to be too much sustained by
threats and promises," said the stranger.
"To be sure it has," said Mr. Ballou. "The idea that we perform any
service in order to escape punishment, renders that service tedious and
irksome to us; while, on the contrary, duty is supreme delight when love
is the inducement and the labor."[1]
[Footnote 1: The recollection of this conversation was recalled to the
writer's mind by lately reading one of Mr. Ballou's published sermons,
where a very similar argument may be found.]
The individual above referred to was an Englishman, who came often to
Mr. Ballou's house afterwards, and held similar conversations. This was
no unusual case. Perfect strangers came and sat for hours sometimes,
evidently seekers after truth, and anxious ones too. To such Mr. Ballou
was ever condescending, patient, and took delight in answering all their
queries upon certain doctrinal points, explaining each passage referred
to, showing its bearing upon others, and challenging the visitor's
respect by his urbanity and never-varying politeness in all things.
Mr. Ballou was ever ready and prompt at an answer, and his replies were
frequently tempered with a quick and pungent wit. He was on a certain
occasion, on his way to deliver a lecture in the town of Reading, Vt.,
surrounded by a number of people, when an Orthodox deacon, confronting
him suddenly, asked, with a taunting air and self-sufficient bearing,--
"Will you answer me one question, Mr. Ballou?"
"Certainly, if I can do so at such short notice," said Mr. Ballou,
smiling at the man's impetuosity.
"Well, sir," said the deacon, "what will become of a man who goes out of
the world cursing and swearing, and calling on God to damn his soul to
hell?"
"Do you believe, my dear sir," said Mr. Ballou, "that a righteous God
would answer the vile prayer of such a wicked wretch?"
"Why no," said the deacon, "of course not."
"You have answered your own question then," said Mr. Ballou, quietly,
while the deacon turned away much disconcerted.
It is so true that Folly's shallow lip can ask the deepest question,
that it is well to remember sometimes, that a fool should be answered
according to his folly.
"The frequency of his times of preaching, in the former part of his
ministry," says the editor of the Repository, "can be but ill imagined
now, nor the intense interest with which his message was listened to by
the multitude. At times he would preach between two appointments, while
his horse was feeding,--his pulpit the base of a noble oak, and the
congregation reverently standing in its broad shadow. Taking advantage
of his haste in leaving, some question would be asked him by some
restive, dogmatic deacon, and the undreamed of answer, that came as the
lightning's flash, would add new fuel to the fire of interest he had
kindled in the midst of the people."
In this connection we are reminded of an anecdote, for which we are
indebted to Rev. Sylvanus Cobb, of the Christian Freeman. We introduce
it here to show Mr. Ballou's power of argument without the least
tincture of ostentation. It was often his way in debate to ask some
apparently simple but natural question, which his opponent answering, as
he obviously must do, would almost certainly refute his own fragile
creed or position, and himself and others would be led to see where the
truth really was. Mr. Cobb says:--
"The world at large have known much of the powers and genius of Mr.
Ballou's mind from his published works, but he had most lovely traits of
character which a personal acquaintance only could discover. While an
intellectual giant in strength, he was unaffectedly modest and
unassuming, and never engaged in mere disputations. He would never enter
into a combat for mere personal mastery, nor pursue a noisy contest with
one who showed himself to be insincere and trickish; while his own
meekness and simplicity of spirit, combined with his clearness of
perception, would generally cut down the swaggering, cavilling spirit,
if he came in contact with it.
"An interesting incident, illustrative of this amiable trait of
character, once occurred in a brief exchange of words between him and
Abner Kneeland. Mr. Kneeland had become an atheist, and one day came
into an apartment where there was a little company of our ministering
brethren, among whom was Mr. Ballou. Mr. Kneeland was forward to
communicate this supposed new light to those with whom he was formerly
associated in the ministry of Christ. He could dispense with the use of
a creator of the world and of man, regarding the physical universe and
the human species as eternal in their being without beginning. Yet he
got in the idea, in the course of the conversation, that man is composed
of the elements of nature.
"Mr. Ballou had been sitting in silence, with his elbows resting upon
his knees (an attitude he often assumed when listening attentively to an
argument). At this point he raised his head, and assumed an erect
position of body, and said:--
"'Bro. Kneeland, you seem to have thought a great deal on these
subjects, and perhaps you can give me some useful information. Now we
see around us, in the city and country, a great many wooden houses. Of
what are these houses made?'
"'They are made of timbers, boards, shingles, and the like,' answered
Mr. Kneeland.
"'And out of what,' said Mr. Ballou, 'are these boards and shingles
made?'
"'Out of trees,' replied Mr. K.
"'Then,' said Mr. Ballou, 'all wooden houses were made out of trees. If
so, must there not have been trees before there was a wooden house?'
"'Yes,' said the other, 'of course.'
"'Well, I thought so,' said Mr. Ballou; 'and now,' continued he, 'here
are many brick houses,--of what are they made?'
"'They are made,' answered Mr. Kneeland, 'out of bricks, which are
composed of clay and sand.'
"'Well, then,' said Mr. Ballou, 'if all brick houses are made of bricks,
which are composed of clay and sand, must there not have been bricks
before there was a brick house, and clay and sand before there was a
brick?'
"Mr. Kneeland now, perceiving what application Mr. Ballou was about to
make of his concessions, to explain his philosophy of having men
composed of the elements of nature and yet having no elements of nature
before there were men, began to equivocate! He would not admit the
inference from the fact that all brick houses were made of bricks, etc.,
and he even retraced his steps, and took back what he had admitted in
respect to wooden houses.
"'What!' said Mr. Ballou, 'if all wooden houses were made of trees, must
there not have been trees before there were wooden houses?'
"'No,' replied Mr. Kneeland, 'that need not follow!'
"'Well, then,' said Mr. Ballou, '_how stupid I am_!'
"And as he uttered these words, he dropped his head again, and let
himself back into a posture of quiet rest. Mr. Kneeland at the same time
choked and blushed, and attempted to recover himself for renewed
conversation, but he evidently could not, and so took his departure.
"This is but one of many incidents which might be cited to illustrate
Mr. Ballou's simplicity in the pursuit and love of truth, his readiness
with argument for its support and advancement, in connection with a
modest, unassuming habit, and a hatred of bluster and noisy strife."
A volume might be filled with anecdotes equally characteristic of Mr.
Ballou's manner and style of argument, had we the necessary time to
collect them. But we trust that the few that are compiled and given to
our readers herewith, may sufficiently familiarize them with the
subject's character, both as a Christian and as a theologian. Since
commencing this work, a vast number of anecdotes have suggested
themselves to the writer's mind, and others, new to him, have been
submitted by friends; but only such as have been considered valuable as
illustrating his character, and which are known to be authentic, have
been selected for publication in these pages.