DOMESTIC AND PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS.
All who knew Mr. Ballou intimately, can bear witness that his home was a
happy one. This, of course, was owing to the manner in which he had
framed and modeled that home after his own heart and the dictates of the
religion he professed. He was the master mind there; his word was law,
his simplest wish strictly complied with. He was looked up to with a
degree of respect and veneration by his children, that was an abiding
evidence of his true character. In the government of his family, he
_led_, but never _drove_, his children, endeavoring, to the utmost of
his ability, to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord,
and, taking his divine Master for his example, he governed them by love
and kindness alone.
He was strongly characterized for his fondness of domestic enjoyment,
and throughout his whole life, to the very end, evinced the most
constant and tenderest solicitude for each and all of his children. Even
after they had married and settled in life, with families about them,
this solicitude continued as ardent as ever; nor was there one of those
children who would undertake any matter of importance without first
consulting his wishes in the premises, and seeking his advice upon the
subject; so highly were both respected and esteemed. This is mentioned
in this connection, not as an encomium upon the family, but simply to
show the reader the universal love and respect that its head always
commanded. We find this subject referred to by Rev. Henry Bacon, in his
published remarks concerning the decease of the subject of this
biography. He refers to the respect in which his advice was held upon
secular matters, not only in his own family, but by others of his
acquaintance.
"He was great," says Mr. Bacon, "in the clearness with which he saw the
essential truths of the gospel, and in the power with which he
communicated them to others, by that spirit of calm earnestness, and
that wondrous faculty to make himself intelligible, which peculiarly
distinguished him. He was great as a logician; great in wisdom that
penetrates to the reality of character, and opens the real motives that
sway the man; _and his counsel in matters far removed from his peculiar
walk in life was weighed as the utterance of an oracle that must not be
slighted_. Simple in his habits, he lost nothing of life in indulgences
that rob existence of its serenity; fixed in a few great principles, he
made everything contribute thereto for the enlargement of his views of
men and things; and, reverencing the Scriptures with a depth of
reliance that was beautiful to behold, he brought forth the harmonies of
the divine Word in a manner that suggested more than he ever expressed,
though he expressed enough to satisfy millions of souls."
May we add here, how grateful such words of appreciation are to the
hearts of his family.
The following was furnished us by Rev. Thomas Whittemore, and would seem
to come most properly under this chapter of Domestic and Personal
Characteristics. Mr. Whittemore was solicited for something relative to
the subject, being so old and valued a friend of the deceased, and he
thus speaks:--
"The life of Hosea Ballou is, in almost every respect, pleasing to
contemplate. It was a very active life. He travelled much, he preached
often, he studied continually, and he wrote not a little. In the earlier
part of his life he joined teaching of the young in the common sciences
to his other avocations. No small portion of his leisure time he spent
in reading; but he _thought_ more than he read. He was always digging
for gold; not, however, in books, but in the mine of his own intellect.
His mind was very active.
"The most pleasing part of his life was his serene old age. The writer
of this remembers him well when he was forty years of age. Ten years
afterwards, the writer entered his family to pursue a course of studies
for the ministry. Mr. B.'s mind at fifty seemed never at rest. If not
reading, he was busily engaged in mental effort. Often, when he was
walking in the streets, have we seen his lips move, as if he were
talking. At his home, he would sit frequently with his eyes closed, his
lips moving, as if holding conversation with some invisible person; and
when he apparently came to some crisis in his meditations, he showed
some outward sign of his feelings, sometimes by a smile, at others by
suppressed laughter, at others by a sigh.
"A mind thus active is in danger of disturbing, if too much indulged,
the proper action of the digestive powers, which, in their turn, react
upon the mind, and produce lowness of spirits and gloom. Mr. Ballou at
fifty was troubled in this way. His heart had an affection sympathetic
with the stomach, and its action was irregular and intermittent. At this
point of his life, he had lived but three or four years in Boston; and
he had had occasion to perform a large amount both of mental and
physical labor. He had preached three times almost every Sabbath; had
edited, for two years, the 'Universalist Magazine;' had visited many
parts of the country to preach the gospel, sometimes under very
animating circumstances; and these complicated labors were too much for
him. His most sagacious friends then had fears either that he would not
live to old age, or, if he did, that his later years would be unquiet.
"We remember, with very great satisfaction, the exceeding gentleness and
amiability of his wife, in the days of which we speak. While this
excellent lady still survives, it is not proper for us to express all
that may be justly said of her. She presided over her household with a
fidelity, a blandness, a kindness, steady as the current of a river, and
unruffled as a lake in the calmest day. This season of intermixture of
health and sickness, joy and sadness, light and shade, continued for
some half dozen years, when it was very gratifying to Mr. B.'s friends
to see that each change denoted that his life might be protracted
perhaps to old age, and that, peradventure, his old age should be as
serene as his earlier days had been laborious and useful. Such proved to
be the fact. He died in his eighty-second year, and his life grew more
and more serene unto its close; like the sun, obscured somewhat by
passing clouds at noon, but shining clearly during the rest of the day,
making its course through the western sky, and passing away from the
earth, as it were, into the boundless heavens beyond.
"This quiet old age I attribute to several circumstances. Mr. Ballou was
a man of sound sense. It was his aim to make the best of everything. He
was a Christian philosopher. He sought to rule his own spirit. He
believed that humility and meekness were the brightest jewels in the
Christian's crown. He had a firm trust in his Maker's goodness. He
believed that God was the Sovereign of the universe, a Father of
infinite goodness, as well as of infinite power, who executed his will
in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth; and
who, by everything which he did, and by everything which he permitted
to be done, was seeking infallibly the good of his creatures. What an
influence would such a faith exert on Mr. Ballou's life!
"Added to this, he had a wife whose constant effort and highest joy was
to make her husband happy. Few such women have lived. It is my duty to
declare, that, during thirty years' acquaintance with her, I never have
heard the first unkind word from her lips, respecting any human being.
Towards her husband, there was a devotion that never tired. It was her
constant desire and aim to make him useful and happy. She appeared well
in any society, but home was her genial sphere. Much of the quiet of
Father Ballou's old age must be attributed to her. His children, also,
have been sources of great comfort to him. They diligently aimed to make
him happy. He loved them all with surpassing tenderness, and they loved
him in consequence. Had anything unfavorable happened to either of his
children, it would have been like a dart driven through his soul. We
know that, even in that case, his religion and his philosophy would have
come to his aid; he would have believed that God had a wise purpose in
it; but, even with that alleviation, it must greatly have disturbed his
life. No such affliction, however, awaited him. Two of his sons became
preachers of the same gospel which he had defended, and by their prudent
lives gained the respect of all who knew them. They have not, like many
clergymen, moved frequently from place to place, but, for about a
quarter of a century, have remained stationary pastors. In respect to
the goods of this world, they have been prudent, and have prospered. * *
* * The daughters have all been married to faithful, kind, and prudent
husbands, of whom two are preachers of the gospel, and all, men of
respectability, intelligence, and thrift.
"Such have been the circumstances of Father Ballou's family. But we have
yet to mention another source of the happiness of his last days. He saw
himself standing at the head of a large and prosperous body of
Christians, who loved and venerated him for his labors, the purity of
his character, and the good he had done. He saw their regard for him
manifested at such times, and in such ways, that he had reason to
believe it was not done for effect, but was the outgushing of the real
feeling of their hearts. At the meetings of conventions, associations,
and other public bodies, all were happy to greet the old soldier of the
cross. His strength was spared to him to such a degree, that he was able
to travel and preach up to the close of his life. His last sermon was
delivered within eight days of his death. He used frequently to say that
it seemed to him no man had more to be thankful for than he. Prudence in
diet; prudence in labor; a kind heart; an affectionate companion; loving
children; ease in his worldly circumstances; the homage of the class of
Christians to which he belonged; the respect of mankind at large;
ability to pursue his favorite calling to the end of life; a strong
trust in God, whose commands he sought diligently to obey;--these were
the causes of the serenity of his old age. 'Mark the perfect man, and
behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace.' Psalm 37:37."
Especially was he fond of children and infants. This was a markedly
prominent feature in his feelings; and children, too, never failed to
make friends with him at once. In our own humble experience, we have
made this a criterion of judgment in character. He who warmly and
quickly interests a child,--whose temperament is such that infancy can
easily assimilate with it,--whose sympathies are of a nature quickly to
unite when brought in contact with childhood,--that man has at heart
much of the real _purity_ and _innocence_ which are the main
characteristics of those whom the Saviour blessed. We never saw a child
shun or turn away from him; but we have seen scores of those who were
strangers, put out their little hands and go willingly to him. In his
own family circle his love of children found ample scope and a genial
field for exercise.
More than forty of his own grandchildren might have been gathered
together at one time during his life. But, as we have intimated, it was
not with these alone that the spirit we refer to was evinced; it was the
same with one as with another. All children he dearly loved, and
particularly noticed. There seemed to be a magic power in his voice, and
in the gentle beaming of his clear, expressive eyes, that carried
assurance to their timid bosoms; and they would nestle happy and
undismayed in his arms, or listen to his words, so cunningly adapted to
the powers of their tender intellect.
The secret of Mr. Ballou's remarkable success in his family government,
was, doubtless, his following those rules which he has so well expressed
and laid down for others. It is a valuable excerpt that he has left, and
we doubt not that the reader will thank us for introducing it here, and
in his own words:--"When giving to your children commands, be careful
that you speak with a becoming dignity, as if not only the right, but
the wisdom also to command, was with you. Be careful not to discover a
jealousy that your injunctions may not be attended to; for if the child
sees that you have your doubts, they will lead the child to doubt too.
Be cautious never to give your commands in a loud voice, nor in haste.
If you must speak loudly in order to be obeyed, when it is not
convenient to raise your voice you must expect to be disobeyed; and if
it be convenient for you to speak loudly, you must remember it is
inconvenient for others to hear it.
"But, with regard to manner, be careful to speak in a soft, tender, kind
and loving way. Even when you have occasion to rebuke, be careful to do
it with manifest kindness. The effects will be incalculably better. When
you are obliged to deny the request that your child may make, do not
allow yourself to do this with severity. It is enough for our dear
little ones to be denied of what they may think they want, without
being nearly knocked down with a sharp voice ringing in their tender
ears.
"If you practise severity, speak harshly, frequently punish in anger,
you will find your children will imbibe your spirit and manners. First
you will find that they will treat each other as you treat them; and
after they arrive to a little age, they will treat you with unkind and
unbecoming replies. But if you are wise, and treat your little ones with
tenderness, you will fix the image of love in their minds, and they will
love you and each other, and in their conversation will imitate the
conversation which they have heard from the tenderest friend which
children have on earth."
In this connection we are reminded of a letter, lately published, from
Mrs. C. A. Soule, relative to her impressions touching the death of the
subject of this memoir. It will be remembered that her husband was a
warm and cherished friend of Mr. Ballou's, and that he was associated
with him as colleague over the Second Universalist Society, in
School-street, Boston, as late as 1845.
"As vividly as though it were but yesterday, does memory bring to me
that sunny April day, in 1844, when I first entered the sanctuary where
he had ministered so many years. There was a dedication service, and I
thought then, and I think now, that I never gazed upon a more impressive
sight than was presented at that moment, when the aged pastor took in
his arms the little helpless babe, and in touching words consecrated it
to Him who said 'Suffer little children to come unto me.' That picture
of infancy and age,--how I longed for a pencil to sketch it! Thank
Heaven, memory, with faithful touch, inscribed it on my heart, and it
will ever hang there, one of its most beautiful pictures. And now I see
him at my own threshold. I meet him, and present him my own little one,
my firstborn. How tenderly he caresses it! Long he looks into her
laughing eyes, and then exclaims, in a tone I can never forget, 'How I
wish I could read her thoughts!' Then, sitting down, he tells me that he
never yet looked on a babe without longing to know the workings, the
thoughts, of the infant mind; and afterwards gave me some excellent
advice about so training that little one that when age should enable her
to reveal her thoughts, they might all be pure and beautiful. How
life-like is the portrait I have of him in my mind's eye! It seems so
palpable that I almost feel the light as it streams from that thrilling
eye, and hear the eloquent words that tremble on that 'heaven-touched
tongue.'"
In illustration of the feelings which influenced him as it regarded
intercourse with his children, and consideration for their enjoyment,
and sympathy with them even in many seeming trifles, we relate the
following anecdote, which, though perhaps trifling in itself, is by no
means without value in point of application.
When Mr. Ballou engaged, in 1834, to go to New York and Philadelphia, it
became known to one of his parishioners, who desired to send his child,
a young lady, to the latter city, on a visit to some relations or
friends. His request to take charge of the young person was cheerfully
acceded to by Mr. Ballou. It so happened that the person who was to
accompany him was a classmate at school and a very intimate companion of
one of his own daughters, the eldest then at home. When this daughter
learned that her classmate was to accompany her father on his journey,
she could not but express a wish that she were going also. There were no
railroad conveniences then, nor were scarcely any of the present
accommodations for travelling perfected. It was not only considerable of
an undertaking to commence a journey of three hundred miles, but it
necessarily involved not a trifling expense.
It came to the ears of Mr. Ballou that his child really desired to
accompany him; and, when he understood the circumstances, he immediately
gave his consent,--telling her, playfully, not to say anything to her
young friend of this, but that he would manage an agreeable surprise for
her. The stage came to the house very early on the morning appointed for
starting,--long before daylight. Mr. Ballou and his daughter got in, and
took their places on the back seat, the latter well wrapped up about the
face. They then drove to the house of her schoolmate, who was to
accompany them. She also took her place in the vehicle, exchanging a
salutation with Mr. Ballou, and they drove off in the darkness. It was
not long before the young lady took occasion to remark, casually, to Mr.
Ballou, how agreeable it _would_ have been could Elmina (the daughter)
have accompanied them. "Very,--very indeed," said Mr. Ballou; and they
still drove quietly on. At last, the city being now left far behind, and
daylight having appeared, Mr. Ballou asked the young lady if she knew
the person by her side. On hearing this inquiry, she turned to see her
neighbor's face, and lo! it was her classmate and dearest friend with
whom she had been thus seated so long without recognizing her! The
daughter has since often declared that she knew not which enjoyed the
ruse most on this occasion,--father or child.
During the year 1845, Mr. Ballou, being then seventy-four years of age,
wrote and published two or three essays in the Universalist Quarterly,
upon certain passages of scripture which had seemed to be a
stumbling-block to many of his own denomination. One of these texts was
that commencing, "In my Father's house are many mansions," etc. This, by
some of the order of Universalists, was supposed to signify that in the
future state there would be different degrees of blessedness, in
proportion to the worthiness of the spirit, or to its moral character
and mental cultivation. This idea was thoroughly exploded, as it
regarded many minds, by the article referred to, which was thus the
means of converting many doubtful minds, as they acknowledged, some of
them orally, and some by letters addressed to him from at home and
abroad. The clear, logical style of reasoning evinced in this essay, and
in one published by him not long subsequent in the Quarterly, relative
to the question as to what influence our present being may have on our
future existence, showed conclusively that the full strength and vigor
that originally rendered his writings so forcible were with him still,
that his mental vision was as keen as ever, and that none of his powers
of intellect had waned in their fire.
These articles were penned as correctly and distinctly, as it regarded
the chirography, as was his early custom, and generally written, if not
at one sitting, within the space of a few hours; for, when he had
anything to do, he could not feel contented until it was done. The
article completed, he would carefully fold it, and wend his way
personally to the publishing-house in Cornhill, and deposit it there,
never failing at the appointed time to read the proof, concerning which
he was very sensitive, and very correct. It was but a few days prior to
his decease that he read thus the proof-sheets of his last article,
furnished for the Universalist Quarterly.
In the manuscript which Mr. Ballou furnished the author of this
biography, there appears written about this period, the fall of 1845,
the following interesting paragraph relative to the immense change that
he had lived to see transpire in the religious world about him.
"Since I came to this city, I have enjoyed the happiness of seeing the
cause of religion prosper, and the different denominations growing more
liberal and more charitable towards each other. I have seen, too, my own
peculiar views received very generally, and regarded very favorably by
the denomination to which I have belonged from the commencement of my
public labors. Since I came here I have been rejoiced to see the
wonderful increase of Universalist societies in Boston and the
neighboring towns, as well as in the other States of our Union. There
are firmly established ones now in Roxbury, Cambridgeport, East
Cambridge, Medford, Malden, etc., besides five or six in Boston, to the
commencement and building up of which I have had the pleasure of adding
my mite by way of labor."
It was very natural that he should then contrast the state and condition
of the cause with its feebleness when he first came to Boston. A few
scattered believers were all it numbered then; persecution and obloquy
greeted its defenders at every step. To be called a Universalist was
equivalent to being called anything vile and wicked, and the name was
held as one of reproach by nearly all. But how vastly different was the
prospect that presented itself to his view in the closing days of his
life, and how grateful this must have been to him who had borne the
burthen and the heat of the day! He saw the denomination vastly
extended. He saw Universalists respected not only for numbers, but for
the goodly influence they exerted far and wide.
He saw that there were now nineteen annual state conventions, eighty-two
associations, eight missionary societies, ten hundred and seventy
societies, professing the doctrine; seven hundred and ninety-nine
meeting-houses devoted to this worship, and some seven hundred preachers
in his Master's vineyard, who taught the doctrine of God's impartial
grace. These, and other facts equally illustrating the wonderful change
he had witnessed, caused him, when toasted and called upon at the late
festival of brethren in Boston, to speak to them, to say, that as he
gazed on the crowd before him, and thought of the multitude they
represented, he was reminded of the beginning of Universalism in New
England, and to quote the words of the prophet: "There was a handful of
corn in the top of the mountain, but its fruit shall shake like
Lebanon!"
How apt and true the quotation.
We have seen that the vigor and keenness of Mr. Ballou's mind had in no
way abated, that every mental faculty still shone brightly as at the
prime of his manhood. Let us show the reader statistically what that
mind had performed in its time. During his professional life he
delivered _over ten thousand sermons_. This calculation, which at first
appears to be so very large, is nevertheless strictly correct, and will
not seem to be overrated, when we call to mind the fact that for more
than thirty years of his ministration he not only preached three times
every Sabbath, but _frequently_ for several consecutive days of the week
beside. Until within five or ten years past, three sermons on the
Sabbath has been his usual performance, in the line of his professional
duty. And after his sermons in country towns, the answering of
questions, and the conversation he was obliged to hold in private with
honest seekers after truth, were quite as laborious, in fact, as were
his public services in the pulpit. We have known him to occupy nearly
half the night, not unfrequently, in this manner, patiently and
zealously.
Including his essays and treatises upon doctrinal subjects, his fugitive
sermons furnished for the different magazines and papers of which he was
editor for a long period of time, and afterwards a constant contributor
to the very end of his life, beside a large number which appeared in
pamphlet form, and of which no particular mention is made in these
pages, and the works herein referred to, Mr. Ballou has written and
published enough to make one hundred volumes, containing the same amount
of matter as the one now in the hands of the reader. The mere mechanical
labor of writing such a mass of composition is in itself a Herculean
task; but when we consider that each page is characterized by careful
reasoning upon points that required much thought and study, and that the
whole is largely original; that the author was unaided by any other
books, save the Bible, in the formation of his arguments and opinions;
and that he was a self-made man withal, we shall come to the conclusion,
that, to say the least of it, the subject of these memoirs was
particularly blessed and aided by Divine Providence.
One secret of his having accomplished so much, is the fact that he was
never idle, never contented to sit down with folded arms in his chair
and do nothing; a book or a pen was ever in his hands, except when he
was taking the ordinary and necessary daily exercise. His life had been
too stirring and active for him ever to relapse into dormancy, while
his faculties were left to him. How well we can see him at this moment,
in the mind's eye, as he used to appear at the centre-table, with his
book close by the lamp, of an evening, and his wife opposite to him,
listening to the work which he was reading aloud to her; such is almost
the last evening scene we can recall in connection with him; his clear,
distinct pronunciation, proper emphasis, and fine voice, even in old
age, seeming to portray with singular accuracy the author's ideas, and
to add a charm to the subject treated upon.
Mr. Ballou had always deprecated the idea of capital punishment,
believing the law based on a wrong principle that would take the life of
a human creature, while none but God could give it. During the winter of
1845, there was more than the usual interest evinced by the public on
this subject, and numerous public meetings were held relative to the
subject, and to endeavor to bring about a reform in the criminal code,
so as to exclude the death penalty altogether. At several of these
assemblies Mr. Ballou made eloquent addresses upon the subject, and
wrote a number of articles, which were published, advocating the cause,
in which he felt a very great interest. We subjoin the following poem,
written by him at this time. It is peculiarly illustrative of his plain,
straightforward style of composition.
THE CRIMINAL CODE.
If in the heart the virus dwell
Of murder, can we that expel
By dire revenge, or shall we find
We miss the law that governs mind?
To quench a flame should we engage,
And fuel add, behold the rage!
Now fiercer still the flame ascends,
And fear with consternation blends.
Man kills his neighbor. Why? Because
His passions rise against the laws,
Which God hath written on his soul,
Unmanned the man, and made a fool.
To cure the evil, now the law,
With tiger rage and open jaw,
Cries out for blood, for blood it cries,
Seizes the culprit, and he dies.
Two men are dead in room of one;
And now the work is but begun:
The virus spreads, and everywhere
The deadly taint infects the air.
And murder now becomes more rife;
Lighter esteemed is human life
And he who could not just before,
Now coolly looks on human gore.
Revenge is wrong; cannot subdue
The vile affections, but renew
Their actions to a flame more dire,
To rage like a consuming fire.
When will our legislators learn,
That blessed, heavenly truth discern,--
When will it well be understood,
That evil is o'ercome with good?"
Mr. Ballou always had a purpose in view when he wrote, whether prose or
poetry, and to this end, more than to the musical cadence of the verse,
he exerted his ability at composition, and always successfully.
The subject of this biography was far from being loquacious, and seldom
talked without some important and definite purpose in view. Yet, though
he might be said to be somewhat reserved in speech, he was by no means
secluded or abstracted in his habits, but, on the contrary, generally
evinced the liveliest interest in the conversation of those about him.
He was not one to break in upon the conversation of others, and if his
opinion was given at all, it was almost always because it was solicited.
There is such a thing as eloquent silence; and when we see a mind, much
enriched by study and experience, offered as it were uninvited, at all
times and on all occasions, we see very plainly that there is something
wanting. Sidney Smith said of Macaulay, that he only wanted a few
brilliant flashes of silence to make him perfect!
There are few old people, or such as have reached the advanced age of
threescore and ten, who have not stored up in their memories a fund of
stories and personal anecdotes, many, perhaps, of their own individual
experience. These they are in the habit of relating frequently as they
go on their way of life, and often do so over and over again to the same
individuals, through mere forgetfulness. This is perhaps one of the
earliest evidences of mental decay. Although, in the course of his long
and chequered life, Mr. Ballou had experienced many interesting
incidents, and learned many curious anecdotes, yet it was a very rare
thing for him to relate one, unless when, in conversation or argument,
some one peculiarly applicable to the subject in hand, suggested itself
to his mind as illustrative of some feeling or passion of our natural
dispositions. When he did speak, those about him always _listened_. It
was on such occasions, that, like the sage of "Rasselas," he spoke, and
attention watched his lips; he reasoned, and conviction closed his
periods. This was particularly the case in his large family circle,
where his opinion, as we have before observed, was sought and repeated,
on all subjects and on all occasions. While there never was a parent
more truly respected, there never was one more dearly beloved. This
could not be brought about by an iron rule, and a stern, inflexible
character. No. It was accomplished on his part by the exercise, in his
domestic relations, of that holy fatherly love which formed the basis of
his creed, and which he worshipped in his God.
For a number of years Mr. Ballou was in the habit of carrying a
snuff-box in his pocket, and of using the article as freely as is
generally the case with those who carry it about them. We all know,
doubtless, how very easy a matter it is to contract a habit, and more
particularly is this the case in advanced years. But if it is difficult
for young people to abandon any bad habit, when the practice has once
been fairly contracted,--if it is hard for them to conquer a pleasant
but baleful appetite, with the many channels of amusement, occupation,
and substitutes that youth and physical vigor present,--how much more
difficult must it be for those who are aged and infirm, and who are
thrown so much upon their own resources for amusement, and the means of
agreeably passing their leisure moments. After having made habitual use
of snuff for several years, Mr. Ballou found that it cloyed the nasal
organs or passage, and thus slightly affected his voice as to
distinctness in public speaking. Perceiving this, he laid by the article
at once, without a murmur, and did not use it at all for three years,
and never again habitually. This instance of resolution simply serves to
show the natural firmness of his character, and the complete
self-control which he exercised over himself.
There is still another illustration of this spirit, which we will give
here.
About a year subsequent to the period of his discontinuing the use of
snuff, a physician suggested to him the propriety of smoking tobacco
after each meal, and being at that time slightly dyspeptic, it was
thought that it might aid and stimulate the digestive organs. The
suggestion was therefore adopted, and Mr. Ballou consequently soon
acquired the habit of smoking regularly after each meal, three times a
day, which practice he continued for a period of some two years. This
habit is universally acknowledged to be one of the most seductive in its
character, and one which will draw stronger upon the inclination and
appetite than any other, except perhaps the use of ardent spirits. One
day we observed that the old gentleman did not light his pipe as usual,
after dinner, and we asked him if he had forgotten it. "No," said he.
"I have been thinking that I am becoming a slave to this habit, inasmuch
as I find that I have to do it _regularly_ every day at certain periods.
It is no longer a medicine, but a pleasant habit, and I shall leave it
off until I find that I require it again for my health's sake." His pipe
was thenceforth laid aside, as his snuff-box had been, without a murmur,
or any external advice to influence him; thus showing the strict
self-denial he exercised.
The careful reader will follow out the application of this spirit, for
it was adopted by Mr. Ballou in every bearing in which it was possible
to affect himself, in accordance with the dictates of his better
judgment, not only as it related to simple appetite and agreeable habit,
but it was one of his fixed and fundamental principles of character,
often evinced. Probably no person who possessed the means, ever desired
more to travel over his own and foreign countries, than did the subject
of this biography. Well read in ancient and modern history, and familiar
with geography, frequent reference was made by him to this desire to
visit more particularly Palestine and the East generally. But when urged
to gratify what his children knew to be so strong a wish, and with every
facility offered him, and one or more of his children to accompany him,
his spirit of self-denial caused him to say:--"How much there is to do
yet, that I may accomplish in my Master's vineyard. To gratify this
desire would indeed be delightful to me, but what benefit could it ever
be to my fellow-men?"
He was assiduously kind and thoughtful in relation to animals. For many
years, and until latterly, he kept a horse and vehicle for his own use,
and he was always particular to see _personally_ that the animal was
properly fed and protected. He was accustomed daily to prepare from his
own plate, after dinner, food for a large dog that belonged to a member
of the family, as late as his seventy-eighth year. This kindly
solicitude and thoughtfulness for the dumb animals about him was an
evidence of the natural goodness of his heart. Animals soon learn to
love those that are kind to them, and even the family cat purred more
cheerfully when resting by his feet, while he often gave it a kind
caress.
Mr. Ballou was very regular as to his personal habits, particularly
during the last twenty years of his life. We refer to the taking of his
meals, his sleep, exercise, and the like. In late years he was
accustomed to retire early at night, and to rise very early in the
morning. In former years, as we have shown, he borrowed much of the
night for his hours of study. This was particularly the case when he was
engaged in his earlier writings, and when acting as sole editor of the
various papers with which he was at different times connected. He was
indeed remarkably frugal in his diet, and to this may be attributed, in
a large degree, the constant good health he enjoyed. He ever preferred
the most homely and simple food, partaking of little meat, and more
freely of milk and bread. Before the noon-day meal on the Sabbath, with
his family assembled about the board, he always asked the divine
blessing, in a most impressive manner, but on no other day was he
accustomed to do so aloud.
His hand upon the door, or his footfall upon the sill, was a sweet sound
to us all; for it was with him as Dr. Doddridge said of his venerable
friend Dr. Clark, of St. Albans,--"He brought joy into _every_ house
which he entered, but most of all into his own house, when he returned
to it."
We have once already referred in these pages to Mr. Ballou's wife. Our
feelings would naturally prompt a much more elaborate allusion to her
many virtues, both as a mother and as a wife. But as we design this
biography to be strictly a memoir of Mr. Ballou, we only refer in these
pages to such other matters as are deemed necessary to mention, in
furtherance of the main object of the work. Mr. Ballou was fortunate in
allying himself to a companion who was in every way worthy of him, one
whom he loved with the most tender and undying affection through his
whole life, and who was to him all that a wife should be. Her
characteristics were remarkable industry, simplicity of heart,
devotedness to him, and untiring domestic assiduity. With a naturally
strong intellect and good judgment, she also coupled the agreeable
attraction of personal beauty; but the outward comeliness of her person
was far eclipsed in his eyes by more enduring loveliness.
We have already given, in these pages, some remarks from the pen of the
editor of the Trumpet, who, in a notice of Mr. Ballou's life, given on
the occasion of a full-length portrait being completed of him, for the
School-street Society, at the age of seventy-six, says of his
companion:--"Sept. 15, 1796, he was married to his present wife, a woman
of unsurpassable goodness, concerning whose praise it would be almost
impossible to speak too highly." Mr. Whittemore was, some years since,
an inmate of the family for a considerable period of time, and his words
must therefore have weight, as coming from one who spoke advisedly.
Many of us know from personal experience how great is the influence upon
our lives and actions of her to whom we have been bound by the holy tie
of matrimony. Characters are often made or marred by this association.
The calm dignity of demeanor, the evenness of temper, the perfect
contentment and general life of the subject of this biography, all
manifested the true character of his home relations, influences, and
associations. Had those relations been different from what they were, a
sterner hue would have tinged his character, and a different spirit
doubtless have imbued his whole career in life; at least the inference
is but natural.
The following lines were written by Mr. Ballou, then at the age of
seventy-four years, in an album which he had presented to his wife, and
are introduced here to show the affectionate regard that existed between
them at this advanced period of life. No comment is necessary, save that
the lines were written by a husband to his wife after _fifty years_'
companionship.
TO MY WIFE.
"Thou dearest of the dear to me,
Of the beloved the best,
Could'st thou but read this heart and see
The treasures of my breast,
Assurance surely would be thine
That undiminished love,
By age grown better, like to wine,
Can never faithless prove.
Not when the virgin rose of youth
Blushed on thy snowy breast;
Not when we pledged ourselves in truth,
And were by Hymen blessed,
Could strong affection boast as now
Of such resistless sway,
When age sits wrinkled on my brow,
And mortal powers decay."
The patient reader who has followed us thus far in this desultory
memoir, must feel more than a passing interest in her who was the bosom
companion of Mr. Ballou; and in this connection we therefore introduce
the following extract from a communication to the Christian Freeman,
dated Sept. 5, 1851, which refers to a visit to the house of Mr. Ballou,
who had been indisposed for a few days. After a brief introduction, the
writer says:--
"I wish to say a word through you respecting our venerable and beloved
father in Israel, H. Ballou. As your report last week spoke of the
indisposition of this good brother, and knowing there would be a great
desire, both at home and abroad, to know how he might be at this time, I
did myself the pleasure, last Thursday, August 20, to call upon him at
his own peaceful home. Here I met this aged saint, with his faithful
companion, who have lived together over half a century, enjoying that
undisturbed domestic peace and felicity, which it is to be feared that
but few, comparatively speaking, attain to. Indeed, Father Ballou's
family may well be called a '_model_' family, for love and attachment,
fidelity and trust; while the happiness of all is that of each, and the
happiness of each is that of all. They have had eleven children, and
eight are living to bless their declining years.
"Mrs. Ballou has not been so extensively known to the _world_ as some;
but as a _wife_ and _mother_, none can excel her, and her amiable and
happy disposition has enabled her to retain her former pleasant and
affable manner, so that she is the same interesting and agreeable
company that she was when I first knew her, thirty years ago. And hers
is the privilege to have her children rise up and call her blessed.
"And now, with regard to the present health of Father Ballou. I was
pleased to find him much more comfortable than I had expected. He has
been suffering very much from a severe cold which he took about two
weeks since, and which has been attended with a bad cough. He was quite
unwell last Sabbath, and fears were entertained that he would be obliged
to relinquish some of his appointments, which his friends are depending
upon with such deep interest. But the simple remedies which have been
applied, finding such a perfect and unimpaired constitution to work
upon, have wrought a very favorable and happy result; so that, on
Thursday, he seemed very comfortable, though his cough was not wholly
removed. He seemed to have no apprehension but that he should yet, for
some time to come, be able 'to be about his Father's business.' And many
will be the fervent prayers that will ascend from the altar of pure and
devoted hearts, that this faithful watchman on the walls of our
spiritual Zion may be yet spared to us, to teach us the blessed truths
of that glorious doctrine which, for sixty years, he has most faithfully
and perseveringly preached, never shunning to declare the whole counsel
of God.
'And when he dies, how many hearts will mourn.'"
This communication is from the pen of the sympathizing lady of Rev.
Sylvanus Cobb. It is sufficient to show the opinion held by other people
of Mrs. Ballou, and will also evince the general anxiety and interest
realized at any symptoms of illness experienced by one whom so many
loved and revered.
The only game that Mr. Ballou ever engaged in at all was the very simple
one of chequers. This he would sometimes, though very seldom, sit down
to on a long winter's evening, with one of his children, or perhaps some
aged companion who was fond of the game. It is the most common thing for
two persons, who are good players and thus engaged, to evince not a
little feeling at the result of the game, either of pleasure at success,
or of chagrin at being defeated. But as it regards this matter, we
never saw him evince the least feeling either way, beyond one of his
pleasant smiles, as often caused by defeat as by victory. He was what
would be called an excellent player, but he evinced only a passing
interest in the game.
At the age of seventy-eight Mr. Ballou was still as fluent and distinct
a speaker as at the age of forty. His sermons were still characterized
by the same powerful reasoning on every point, as well as bearing
evidence of constant study, showing also most conspicuously one
peculiarity of his, that of the practical as well as philosophical
character of his investigations. One might think that, having preached
for a term of nearly sixty years at the date of which we write, there
would from necessity be a disagreeable sameness and repetition of ideas
in his sermons; but this was far from being the case. We have heard old
members of his society, who have listened to his public communications
for more than thirty consecutive years, say that they have never heard
him deliver a discourse without learning from his lips some fresh and
beautiful evidence of the gospel truths,--some new and touching
illustration of the ennobling sentiments he professed.
"Age could not wither him, nor custom stale
His infinite variety."
He has himself often remarked that each successive year of study made
him happier than before, in the fresh truths and manifestations of
divine goodness developed in that never-failing source of
knowledge,--that flowing river of wisdom,--the Bible.
In his style of speaking, Mr. Ballou was very peculiar. There was none
of the study and pomp of declamation in his delivery,--no attempt at
effect; but he ever spoke to the people, before whom he raised his voice
as that which he professed to be, an humble servant of all men. And yet
he was eloquent, at times brilliantly so, and his oratory has been cited
by competent judges as a rare example to follow. There are comparatively
few men in these days, when the style of ranting, and tearing plain,
straightforward sentiment to tatters, is so prevalent, who can so absorb
an audience as he always did. When he commenced to speak, he would lay
the subject before his hearers in a quiet but distinct tone, so as to
place it within the capacity of a child, calmly and with judgment. Then
as he proceeded he grew by degrees animated, and anon enthusiastic, yet
ever to the purpose, while the expressive countenances of his hearers
evinced how fully they entered into the spirit of the speaker. And when
they retired from the place of meeting, the people were accustomed to
feel that they had listened to profitable matter, and to follow out the
theme which he had so distinctly and legibly marked for them.
In this connection, and as being illustrative of that which we have just
remarked, we quote here from the sermon of Rev. Otis A. Skinner, of
Boston (having been kindly permitted to do so), delivered before his
society, relative to the decease of the subject of this biography.
These remarks are as follows:--
"His sermons were all characterized by strength. They were not pretty,
not declamatory; but noble, grand, strong. The hearer always felt as
though his arguments were unanswerable, his conclusions above dispute.
Who can gainsay that? That is unanswerable! Such has been the feeling of
thousands at the close of his sermons. I question whether there was ever
a preacher who made so many converts by his pulpit labors, as Father
Ballou. Thousands on thousands have been convinced by him; and his
converts were always those most remarkable for ability to reason, and
for hearts of benevolence. He was ingenious as well as strong. The
moment he began to open his subject, you began to be interested. You saw
so much ingenuity in his mode of reasoning, in exposing error, in
illustrating truth, that whatever you might think of his subject, you
could not refrain from listening with marked attention. It was no
uncommon thing for him to excite a smile, to move his whole
congregation; but usually that was done by some ingenious argument that
would electrify every mind present. In his preaching he was never light,
never irreverent, but always grave, serious, devout; but he was
ingenious, and his ingenuity often created a smile."
His discourses in the city generally averaged about thirty-five minutes;
but in the country, where people came many miles to hear him speak,
frequently crowding the place of worship to overflowing, and even
standing at the windows on the outside, so thronged was the house
within, he would sometimes speak from one to two hours. Inspired by the
undeviating attention of the mass of honest seekers after truth who were
before him, and incited by their eloquent countenances, in which he
could read the influence of his words, it was difficult for him to know
when to stop. At such times he was ever zealous, yet prudent, devout
without ostentation, vigorous and unyielding in his opposition to error,
but still always kind and conciliatory. He always complained that on
such occasions he could not find one-half the time he wanted, while
speaking upon the holy theme, and that minutes never flew more quickly
than under such circumstances. The power of his eloquence upon the
people at such times can be but poorly described; it must have been
witnessed to be realized and understood. Honest countenances beamed with
delight, calm and peaceful joy sat on the wrinkled brow and face of age,
the eyes of the young sought each other in sympathy, full of a realizing
sense of the riches of God's goodness. Even children were thoughtful,
and forgot the restraint that the services had put upon them. As has
been said in an extract herein, his converts were many. We do not mean
that by one discourse he accomplished this reformation in their minds;
but he removed the clouds from their mental vision, showed them the
loveliness of the gospel as it is in Christ, and by hints shrewdly
strown and arguments most potent to convince, with references beyond the
point of his discourse, he led them to study and judge for themselves,
when he had left them.
Rev. A. R. Abbott, in a discourse before his society, has expressed in
brief, and very truthfully, some of the characteristics of his style of
preaching. He says:--"His discourses were always simple, powerful,
clear, perfectly intelligible to all, yet made so, apparently, without
the least effort. You find there no attempt to carry his points by any
artifice of oratory. Everything is plain and direct. Even the most
intricate and perplexing subjects, under his treatment, gradually became
clear. His thoughts were like clear waters;--their perfect transparency
disguised their depth. When speaking upon any intricate topic, perhaps
no one ever listened to him attentively, under favorable circumstances,
without being astonished at the apparent ease with which he removed the
difficulties from his subject, and at the felicity with which all his
illustrations were chosen. Often, when his hearers have been wrought up
to an intense and painful interest by some apparently insuperable
obstacle or unanswerable objection to a point he was laboring to
establish, they have been both surprised and delighted, by the
application of some well-known truth or familiar text of Scripture, to
see the light break in upon the dark point like sunlight through a
parting cloud. And when they saw how clear the subject then appeared,
they were vexed with themselves to think that so obvious an explanation
had never occurred to them. His treatment of a subject was like the
prophet's healing the Syrian leper;--the method was so simple that its
efficacy was doubted, till its success was manifest."
Rev. A. A. Miner has kindly furnished us with the following authentic
anecdote, which is very appropriate in this connection, illustrating as
it does the magic-like power of Mr. Ballou's eloquence, and the delight
with which he was listened to by the masses, when his mission carried
him into the country.
"He had an appointment to preach," says Mr. Miner, "some years ago, in
the town of Berlin, Vt. There was residing in that town a
highly-respectable gentleman by the name of James Perly, with whom I was
personally acquainted. Mr. Perly was exceedingly anxious to hear Mr.
Ballou preach; but, unfortunately, he was so lame with the rheumatism
that he could not get into his carriage. The distance to the meeting by
the travelled way was some two miles; but a cross-way, through a piece
of wood, was much shorter. With crutches in hand, he started at an early
hour, determined, if possible, to reach the place of meeting by the
cross-way. He had not proceeded far, however,--having just entered the
wood,--when, to his great annoyance, he found himself arrested in his
progress by a large tree, lying directly across his path. To go round it
was impracticable, from the obstruction of the underbrush; to step over
it was impossible, on account of his lameness. What could he do? After
studying the problem for a time, he threw over his crutches, and,
balancing himself on the body of the tree, managed to roll himself to
the other side, and to regain his feet. At length he reached the place
of meeting, and listened with even more than his anticipated delight.
The speaker was all that he had been led to expect, in person, voice,
and power of reasoning. He was more than pleased,--he was charmed by his
doctrine. The word of divine grace found a most welcome reception in his
heart, and the very glories of the upper world seemed to possess his
soul.
"The meeting over, he wended his way homeward again; 'but whether in the
body, or out of the body, he could not tell.' As he entered his house,
every hand was upraised in astonishment; and with one voice his family
exclaimed, 'Why, Mr. Perly! where are your crutches?' Sure enough, where
were they? The eloquence which had enraptured his soul had heated the
body, and made the lame to leap for joy. He had quite forgotten his
crutches, and returned home without them!
"I give this narration," says Mr. Miner, "on the authority of a sister
of Mr. Perly, herself not a Universalist. To many persons such a story
may seem incredible; but those who are acquainted with the effects of an
intense pleasurable excitement, will find little difficulty in believing
it fully true. Few persons, sympathizing with him, could have heard Mr.
Ballou, on the occasions of his visits to the country, without being
able, from their own experience, to understand something of this
wonderful influence. The writer of this first listened to him at the New
Hampshire State Convention of Universalists, held at Walpole, in 1838;
and rarely, if ever, have I seen a man so deeply interest an audience as
he did on that occasion. Tears of joy rolled down the cheeks of
grey-haired fathers, as the hopes of the gospel burned anew in their
hearts. Such scenes are remembered with gratitude by thousands of
believers throughout New England."
A certain brother in the ministry said to the writer of these
pages,--"You are preparing a biography of your father?" We replied in
the affirmative. "Well," said he, "you have sat down at home and
listened to his preaching before his own society, and have doubtless a
true appreciation of his ability; but you should have seen him before a
body of ministering brethren, at a state or national convention. You
should have seen him there, to write truly of him. When it was announced
at such assemblies that Father Ballou would preach, we all knew what to
expect, and all reaped a harvest of rich thoughts, pure doctrine,
original arguments, and available material for our own future use in a
more limited sphere. He was not only eloquent, he was electrifying; and
while we reverenced him, we also loved him like a father." And this we
feel positive is not merely the opinion of one man, but of the order
generally.
"Would that I could renew the sights I have seen," says the Rev. Henry
Bacon, "where thousands, in a crowded and heated assembly in New
Hampshire, were held in wondering and admiring attention, as the
venerated preacher set forth the 'exceeding great and precious promises'
as exhibitive of creating and preserving Love. The riches of grace were
poured upon the souls of the people as a refreshing shower on the earth;
and hundreds of old men, who had been awakened from the nightmare of
traditional theology, or the sleep of indifference to God and his
service, listened, while the tears coursed down their furrowed cheeks,
as he renewed in their souls the raptures of the past. O never can I
forget one sermon thus delivered, when he spake to us of those who knew
God's name and would put their trust under the shadow of his wings,
which wings were stretched over time and eternity! Eloquent, was he?
Yes, if rapt attention, if profound emotion, if lasting enthusiasm and
tearful gratitude be any test of the effects of eloquence. With no
exertion, that wondrously clear and silvery voice would float over the
congregation, and the auditor who was the farthest removed from the
speaker, caught the simple words, conveying the grandest thoughts most
felicitously illustrated. There was no pretension in his oratory; he
spake right on, warming with his subject, setting up the noblest claims
for adoring obedience to God, in all his requirements, exhorting the
people to religious duty by the mercies of God."
The effect of his words, in public delivery especially, was greatly
heightened by the truly benevolent expression of his countenance, and
by his remarkably venerable appearance. It has been beautifully said of
President Kirkland, that his face was a benediction; and we have often
heard similar comparisons made by those who have known and been familiar
with Mr. Ballou. He wore his hair, white with age, parted smoothly in
the centre of the forehead, and resting behind the ears, but not long in
the neck. In a number of lithographs, engravings and miniatures, in the
possession of his family and others, the hair is represented as short,
and parted thus; but latterly he wore it long, as described above.
There was expressed in his countenance a serenity of disposition that
was peculiar to him, a philanthropy of purpose which characterized all
his dealings, and a wisdom and calm dignity that led even the stranger
to feel a degree of respect for him at once. The blamelessness of his
life and the gentleness of his disposition alone form a theme over which
memory and friendship have poured their consecration. As to the matter
of his personal manner and bearing, while he avoided the strict rules of
forced etiquette, yet he was scrupulously attentive in society to the
dictates of true politeness. His form was as straight and erect at the
age of seventy-five as at twenty.
As he advanced in years, his style of delivery grew perhaps more
subdued, but none the less distinct and impressive. He spoke perhaps
with less of the fire of zeal, yet with none the less spirit and real
effect. He could not treat of the divine love and sufferings of Christ,
or of the deep and unbounded grace of God, without evincing the warmest
feelings, and moving the audience to tears by his eloquence upon these
touching subjects. He would not unfrequently be completely overcome
himself, in dwelling upon this theme in public.
His was a noble example of a well-balanced mind, without any of that
startling, comet-like splendor, which has usually been considered as the
very light in which genius lives and moves. His faculties were all
brought into admirable harmony, and thus operated with powerful and
never-failing effect. There were no contending elements in his nature;
no struggles of ambition; no strife of penuriousness; no battling of
passion. Like the beautiful harmony of the elements of nature, his bosom
was redolent of concord. And what a worshipper he was, too, of the forms
of nature, and her mysteriously glorious works about him! There was no
object in nature so minute or so apparently unimportant but had
attractions for his scrutinizing eye. He was exceedingly fond of
flowers,--those "illumined scriptures of the prairie,"--of the rural
scenery, the lowing herds and various tenants of the grove. Often have
we heard him praise and dilate upon these, when, a mere boy, we have
travelled with him upon his various missions into the country. He was
one to
"Find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything."
"Stay for a moment," he said to us, on a certain occasion, as we were
riding through the country, and had just surmounted a high elevation,
commanding a beautiful view of the outspread plain below. It was the
closing of a clear autumnal New England day. "What a mild and holy
religion is breathed by nature in such a scene as this! How soft the
influence that steals over the senses! Though fresh from God's own hand,
and quickened by his presence, it teaches us no terror, no gloom; it
rouses no fierce passions within the heart; it is calm, meek, forgiving;
and equally for all breathing things. How hallowed and God-like are the
blissful teachings of nature!"
He gazed so long, in silence, upon the silvery Connecticut, where it
threads its course not far from Holyoke Mountain, following out the
theme of his thoughts, that we marked well what he had just said, and
remembered it. We had just risen a hill that overlooked the verdant
plains of Hadley, and the scene is as fresh to us now as though but an
hour had intervened. Such appreciations and realizations were most
natural to him; and a vein of illustration, drawn from these lovely
exhibitions of nature, will be found running through the broad meadows
of his doctrinal arguments, like a purling stream, refreshing and
vivifying the verdure of divine truth. A reference to nature in her
rural dress and belongings, as illustrative of the great plan and
purpose of God's goodness and impartiality, was a favorite custom with
him. He would draw thence so many incentives for thankfulness, such
unmistakable tokens of Omnipotent impartiality and universal love, such
powerful reasons for disbelieving the unhappy creed that imputed to a
Being, whose works are redolent of loveliness, attributes so repugnant
to the heart of his children, that few could listen unmoved,--few
refrain from outwardly evincing the realizing sense he produced in their
pliant understandings. With a full appreciation of these divine
evidences of God's goodness, we say it was most natural for him to pause
thus; and, with eyes drinking in of the spirit of the scene before us,
exclaim, as he did, that it "taught no terror, no gloom; but that its
influence was meek, forgiving, and equally for all breathing things."
By strict frugality and industry, Mr. Ballou acquired for himself a
competency, besides dividing a handsome sum of money between his
children; and in this latter respect he was somewhat original in his
mode of carrying out a disposition of his property. He chose to give to
his children while he lived, preferring to witness the pecuniary
assistance he might render to his family, and to participate in its
enjoyments in his own life-time. His means were acquired solely through
patient labor and frugality. He never enjoyed a farthing in the way of
legacy, nor by any fortunate turn of business or speculation. These
matters he never engaged in at all, and often said that he was perfectly
satisfied with a return of six per cent. for his money; and that if
others felt the same, much of misery and misfortune would be spared them
and the world at large. Some idea may be formed of the careful manner in
which he considered his responsibilities by the following facts, namely:
he never placed his name to a note, or due bill, in the whole period of
his life; never borrowed money; never kept an account at any place of
business, but always paid for that which he bought at the time of
purchasing, however large or trifling the amount; and, after his long
experience of life, he endeavored to impress upon his children that an
adherence to these rules, as far as was practicable, would be productive
to them of much good, and prevent a vast deal of trouble, and needless
anxiety of mind, in relation to secular matters.
By the different societies over which Mr. Ballou officiated as pastor,
he lost, in all, a considerable amount of money, through want of good
faith in the payment of his salary. This refers to his associations
before he came to Boston. In one instance, the sum of money thus
sacrificed by him exceeded one thousand dollars; yet he was never known
to institute a suit against any individual or society, but left them to
settle their unfaithfulness with their own consciences.
"Some write their wrongs in marble; he, more just,
Stooped down serene, and wrote them in the dust."
His greatly improved prospects, and increased pecuniary means, never in
the least influenced his manner of living, his habits or demeanor. These
ever continued to be characterized by the same simplicity and prudence
that marked his course from earliest manhood. At his house there was
ever the same open and free hospitality exercised; and every one, who
knows anything about the life of a settled clergyman, is aware that he
must, of necessity, have constantly about him a large number of visitors
and partakers of his hospitality. Besides which, as we have before
signified, his hands were ever open for the needy, whose wants he
delighted to supply; enjoying in return that happiness that true charity
alone can impart.
"It always appeared to me inconsistent," says Mr. Ballou, "with the
profession of a minister of the gospel, to live expensively; that is,
far beyond what is required for the necessities and comforts of life. As
the minister is supported by the people of his charge, the propriety of
his living beyond the income of his parishioners in general, seems
questionable. Moreover, it has best suited my natural taste to avoid
extravagances and superfluities."
Tupper, the erudite and truthful author of Proverbial Philosophy, has
very beautifully said,--"The choicest pleasures of life lie within the
ring of moderation." Believing thus, Mr. Ballou wrote contentment on
every dispensation of Providence that fell to his share.
The work we have in hand might be filled alone with the most sincere
eulogiums from ministering brethren, who have referred in public to the
life and character of the subject of this biography; but, in the few
which we have selected and introduced here, we have been guided by the
purpose of presenting only such as have seemed to us--knowing the facts
from long experience--to be the most truthful in the delineation of the
character and disposition of Mr. Ballou. Moreover, the reader will,
perhaps, be too often led to remember that it is a son who writes this
biography of a father; and when he can bring to bear the mind and
evidence of older and abler writers than himself, as treating upon the
subject before us, the work may be thus strengthened and enriched. In
this spirit, and under this chapter of "Domestic Characteristics," the
following extract from the discourse delivered upon this subject by Rev.
Henry Bacon is given:--
"I am not now to speak of a stranger, known only by reputation, but of
one with whom I have been familiar from my earliest childhood. The more
I attained power to judge his qualities, the more have I learned to
esteem the man, his character and ministry. He came to Boston, as pastor
of the Second Universalist Society, when I was scarcely four years old,
and though my parents were members of the First Society, yet their house
was one of his homes. The impression made in boyhood by the stately form
of Mr. Ballou,--his meekness, his speech of singular clearness,
adaptedness and wisdom, his singular temperance at the table, and his
kindness to childhood,--was never removed; and I use no strained and
forced language when I say Hosea Ballou was a great man. I say this, not
looking from a sectarian point of view, but as guided by the principles
that ought to govern us in our judgment of men, comprehensively
regarding their qualities, and what they have been to their age.
"He is a great man who is impelled to bear the new truth abroad, that,
like its Great Source, he may be 'found of those who asked not after
him;' to make the hill-side and the grove, the river shore, the barn,
the humble farmer's room, or the shadow of a great tree, his church, and
there proclaim the gospel in its wholeness, with a readiness that shows
the heart is full of the matter, and with a willingness to answer any
queries, and respond to any voice that speaks a word against the
completeness of the redemption proposed in Christ. By his keen insight
into human nature, his rare powers of logic, his unique use of words,
his intelligibility to the humblest capacity in treating of the greatest
subjects, and his profound wisdom in choosing means to reach directly
the ends desired, Hosea Ballou was a great man. In an instant he
stripped away all the show and tinsel of learned ignorance, or drove the
dart between the joints of the harness of barbarian bigotry, and laid
low the pretender. By his unshaken and majestic faith and trust; by the
steadiness with which he kept the honor of God, in the supremacy and
efficiency of the Scriptures, ever before him; and by the willingness
and capacity to receive any new application of the great principles of
the gospel, he was a great man. All this was crowned and glorified by
his personal character, by the purity of his walk and conversation, his
rare temperance amid the most solicitous temptations, and the harmony he
breathed into all his children and the rule he swayed over them; he was
a great man, abiding the last, best test of greatness, 'being such an
one as Paul the aged.'"
As will be surmised by previous remarks in this work, Mr. Ballou, in the
matter of politics, had of course his preferences of principles and of
men, and he always voted for them, besides keeping himself well read in
the most important political matters of the day, pro and con, and
weighing well in his own mind their bearing upon the true principles of
political economy; but here his interest ceased. He took no active part,
even in conversation, upon the subject, though at times he would show by
his remarks that the great principles of either party were familiar to
him. Still he always avoided, as a topic of conversation, a subject
which is so often the theme of bitter contention between those who in
all other respects are excellent friends. He never changed his political
sentiments, which, however, for very good reasons, were scarcely known,
or, at least, not intimately so, out of the family circle.
His irreproachable life was in itself one of the strongest arguments in
favor of his religion; his mild and dispassionate manner on all
occasions, his unblemished integrity and unimpeachable character,
through his whole life, rendered him universally beloved, as well as
showing a living example of the divine principles he endeavored to
inculcate in his public teachings. There is an energy of moral suasion
in a good man's life, passing the highest efforts of the orator's
genius. The visible but silent beauty of holiness speaks more eloquently
of God and duty than do the tongues of men and angels. A minister's
religious faith should be delivered to his people, not as a matter of
theoretical knowledge,--something learned in the study,--but as
something experienced. "Nothing," says Bishop Stillingfleet, "enlarges
the gulf of atheism more than the _wide passage_ which lies between the
faith and lives of men pretending to teach Christianity." Religion is
not a didactic thing, that words can impart or even silence withhold: it
is spiritual and contagious glory, a spontaneous union with the holy
spirit evinced in our daily lives and example. Those who have true
religion make it the garment worn next the heart, but, alas! too many
make a cloak of it. The most learned divine or philosopher that the
earth has ever known, though he spoke with an eloquence and wisdom near
akin to inspiration, must yet be powerless as to spiritual and godly
influence, if, at the same time that he points to wisdom's way,
"Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads."
Hooker has very beautifully remarked, that "the life of a pious
clergyman is visible rhetoric;" and some one else, with equal truth,
that "to preach sound doctrine, and lead a bad life, is building up with
one hand and pulling down with the other." Preaching, to be available,
must be consistent.
Mr. Ballou may be said to have _lived_ the doctrine he professed, in the
strictest sense of the phrase, and to have followed the glorious example
set him by his Divine Master. His ambition was to be an imitator of the
meek and lowly Jesus.
"His preaching much, but more his practice wrought,
A living sermon of the truths he taught."
Touching this subject he was wont to say to his hearers:--"Brethren, I
want a doctrine that I can prove by reducing it to practice; for we are
enjoined to 'prove all things, and hold fast that which is good.' People
may go to the house of devotion, they may hear learned ministers hold
forth the doctrine of future rewards and punishments, they may admire
the beautiful oratory and flowery rhetoric in which such sentiments are
dressed, but they must leave them all behind them when they go home to
their beloved families. They can never practise the domestic virtues and
duties on these principles of doctrine. The doctrine of Jesus is a
practical one, and we can never do our duty in the family circle unless
we live and conduct according to it."
This is an example of Mr. Ballou's style of argument and of
illustration. He brought everything _home_, where all could understand
the analogy; he never went abroad to seek for illustrations, never
indulged in deep philosophical dissertations, thus hoodwinking his
hearers and marring his subject. The reader will at once be struck by
the force and truth of the remark, that, however sincerely a person may
believe the doctrine of future rewards and punishments, still, on
leaving the house where these principles are taught, he must leave them
behind him. No one, not even the most zealous supporter of such a creed,
ever attempted to practise it in his family circle. Washington Allston
has pithily said, "A man cannot lie _all over_;" so it is a fact that
he cannot be utterly wrong from top to toe; though his mind may be
deceived, and his sentiments indicate partial delusion, yet his _heart_,
ten to one, will be right. Some token of his nicely constructed nature
will turn itself into "king's evidence" against his false theories. And
thus we find men, sincere Christians at heart, who believe and
promulgate the doctrine of partial grace, all the while evincing in
their home influences and general lives, the truth of the gospel of
Christ.
When Mr. Ballou was last in New York, some one of the brethren in that
city induced him to visit the office of the American Phrenological
Journal, where his head was examined after the rules of the science, and
the following characteristics were written out by the examiner, as is
customary in such cases. Since the decease of the subject of these
memoirs, they have been made public through the journal referred to. To
many this extract will possess more than ordinary interest, and we have
therefore given it place here, under the head of personal
characteristics.
PHRENOLOGICAL CHARACTER.
"His organization is very favorable to long life, good general
health, and uniformity of mind. The vital temperament was
originally decidedly strong. He has an amply developed chest, lungs
and digestive apparatus, which have imparted health and prolonged
life; and the muscular system is also fully represented. His mind
is active, but not so much so as to prematurely exhaust his
organization; nor is he particularly excitable. He has general
harmony and evenness, rather than eccentricity or want of balance.
The tone of his organization is such as to give him energy and aim
to carry through his purposes, without friction or waste of
strength. The size of brain is average, and the vital functions are
sufficient to supply the exhaustion of mental action; hence he has
been able to live within his power of sustaining mental labor for
so long a time.
"He is remarkable, phrenologically, for evenness of development;
none of the organs are extreme, and he is not inclined to those
excesses which cause eccentricity.
"One of his leading traits arises from Adhesiveness, which gives
attachment to, and interest in, friends.
"He still clings to his youthful friends, and enjoys their society.
This quality of mind enters largely into the whole tone of his
feelings.
"He is also kind to children, and interested in them, and quite
successful in entertaining them, and adapting himself to them.
"He is interested in woman, and capable of enjoying the marriage
relations highly, especially the social, domestic relations. He is
a strong lover of home, but lacks continuity of mind; his thoughts
and feelings are easily diverted, although he may finish a subject
that he commences; yet he enjoys variety in the general exercise
of his mind.
"His Combativeness is of the higher order, connecting with the
reasoning and moral, rather than with the animal nature; and it
gives him the disposition to overcome the obstacles in his way, and
to argument rather than the quarrelling propensity.
"He has fair energy, without any surplus, and a full degree of
appetite, without being excessive. He values property for its uses,
and is not selfish in money matters. He is remarkable for his
candor, frankness, open-heartedness, truthfulness, and
disinclination to deceive; he speaks the real sentiments of his
mind, as far as he speaks at all. He is not suspicious, but
confiding, and prefers to rely on the honesty of mankind rather
than to guard himself against the dishonesty of others. He is not
vain or showy; has merely ambition enough to stimulate him to do
what is his duty, without any reference to publicity; but he is
decidedly independent and self-relying.
"He does not lean on the judgment of others, nor does he feel that
his character depends on their opinions; he merely states his own
opinion, and allows others to judge for themselves.
"Firmness is another strong feature of his mind: he is uniformly
firm, each day successively; not stubborn one day, and
over-yielding the next, but consistently steady and persevering.
"He is very anxious to do as he agrees, and is just as honest at
one time as another; is consistent in his professions and
pretensions, and has always studied to harmonize and balance his
character, rather than to encourage any extremes.
"He neither hopes nor fears to excess; enjoys what good there is to
be enjoyed, and makes the best of an unfortunate occurrence. His
mind is open to conviction, is ready to look at new things, and to
be instructed; but is slow to believe, and requires positive
evidence before he gives his assent. He has a marked feeling of
worship, deference, and respect, and regard for superiority and
sacred subjects. Few persons have naturally more of the disposition
to worship than he.
"His sympathies are also strong. His feelings are tender towards
objects of distress, either mental or physical. Imagination and
sense of beauty and perfection are decidedly strong. He is disposed
to beautify his ideas, and make as much of them as possible,
especially by way of elevating the idea, and giving it a refined
direction.
"He is not inclined to mimic and imitate others; his ways are
peculiarly his own.
"He is mirthful, and enjoys fun as naturally as his food, and it
has been difficult for him to suppress the disposition to joke. His
intellectual faculties are well balanced; the perceptive faculties
are all large. He is quick of observation, readily forms
conclusions from what he sees, and is very much interested in all
classes of experiments.
"He is disposed to make himself as much acquainted with this world
as possible before leaving it, and is particularly inclined to
study character and motives, and the conditions of mind. He has a
good perception of forms, outlines, shapes and proportions, and has
a good memory of places, localities, and the whereabouts of things.
"He is quite particular as to order and arrangement, and must have
everything done correctly: is precise in his style of doing his
work, or in arranging his ideas. His memory by association is good;
he is a very punctual man in his engagements, and careful not to
consume the time of another. He is never in the way of others, and
does not go where he is not wanted; and, from diffidence and fear
that he may intrude himself, he does not go where he is really
desired. He is copious in the use of language, yet is not wordy;
his language is direct and to the point. He has a clear mind,
adapted to analytical logic, and drives as straight to a conclusion
as the bee does to a flower; yet he reasons more by association and
analogy than from cause to effect.
"He readily sees the adaptation of one thing to another; he seldom
makes enemies, or fails to perceive the character and motives of
others; is more successful than most persons in making friends,
because he knows how to adapt himself to others, and make himself
agreeable. He says and does things in a human-nature way.
"The six leading traits of his character are,--
"1st. His affection and friendship.
"2d. Independence and self-reliance.
"3d. Honesty, justice and circumspection.
"4th. His devotion and respectful disposition.
"5th. Sympathy and interest in the welfare of others, and general
philanthropy of spirit; and,
"Lastly, His practical common sense, and system, and availability
of intellect."
Mr. Ballou was once asked, in a most triumphant manner, by a religious
opponent, in the presence of a large number of individuals, "If your
doctrine be true, sir, how is it that it has never been preached before?
Here in the nineteenth century it would seem to be a new discovery." He
replied, in his usual calm and effective manner, "Friend, it has been
taught by two eloquent witnesses at least, so long as the sun has shone
and the rain fallen on mankind. These faithful agents of Almighty love
have ever taught the doctrine of impartial grace to all men; they
dispense their blessings on rich and poor, high and low, and thus bear
witness of the character of Him who sends them."
We well remember being present on a certain occasion when an intimate
friend of Mr. Ballou's asked him,--"Do you not think that the life of a
clergyman is far from being a desirable one, when you consider all the
sorrow and grief that the discharge of the duty attendant upon the
profession necessarily makes one acquainted with?" He replied, evincing
the peculiar light that was ever emitted from his eyes when he spoke
earnestly, "Were I to live my life over again, knowing what I now so
well know, by more than half a century of experience, I would choose
again the same profession I have followed so long. The humble and
faithful servant of Christ enjoys an inward happiness that none but his
Master may know. There is no employment more fitting for the human
heart, more ennobling to the nature of man, than the study of God's
word, and none from which so great and reliable happiness may be
derived." These evidences of his experience were treasured by many who
were accustomed to seek his society for the benefit and pleasure of his
conversation. The brethren throughout the order, and indeed every one
who knew him, seemed actuated towards him by a spirit which the
universal title he bore served to indicate; they always called him
_Father_ Ballou. I do not think there was one minister in the numerous
order of Universalists who did not acknowledge his preeminence in
original talent, wonderful reasoning faculties, and unblemished moral
excellence.
As illustrating this fact, we will let one of these brethren's remarks
upon this subject speak for us here, by again quoting from the eulogy of
Rev. Otis A. Skinner, delivered before his society in this city.
"But he was not merely our leader to the promised land; he entered it
with us, and for more than half a century he continued with us, standing
first in our esteem and affection, honored and beloved, with no effort
to obtain authority, and no ambition to be a leader. The place which he
occupied was voluntarily assigned to him; it was given in consequence of
his true heart, his profound judgment, his undeviating attachment to
principle, his entire freedom from art and management. Envy hurled at
him its arrows, but they fell harmless at his feet; ambition sought to
rise above him, but it sought in vain. There he stood like a father at
the head of his family, content to exercise the sway which he obtained
by his superior judgment, his commanding talents, and his devoted
services. He never dictated; he was never impatient when opposed; he was
never unkind to those who differed from him; he comprehended fully the
true idea of religious liberty, and in no instance exhibited a desire to
act the Pope. We doubt whether, in all the history of the church, an
instance can be found in which a minister has had so high a rank in his
sect, and yet manifested a less desire to bear rule.
"Nothing is more natural than for old men to oppose departures from
their measures. All sects have had those who bitterly denounced every
step taken beyond what they themselves had gone; but our honored father,
when he saw movements for progress, when he saw new men proposing new
plans of operation, placed himself on a level with the humblest, freely
discussed the plan, and yielded with cheerfulness when convinced. Not
only did he yield, but held his mind open to conviction, and on, several
points he came in and worked faithfully for what at first he hesitated
to sanction. He was not like some advanced in years, ever looking to
the past, and talking as though all wisdom was concentrated in it; he
believed that new discoveries were yet to be made; that progress was a
law of the true church, and that measures must be suited to the times.
Hence the most radical, those most desirous for reform, never felt that
he stood in the way: for there was not a reform which engaged the heart
of the philanthropist that did not have his sanction. He was a modern
man, and lived in the present time, as much, almost, as the youngest in
our ministry. _Let us go forward_, was his motto."
Such was the universal meed of honor that was accorded to him by his
brethren in the ministry.