Biography of Rev. Hosea Ballou

It was a most extraordinary circumstance for him to miss a single Sabbath from church; and we do not think this occurred a score of times up to his seventy-ninth year. The weather, however violent, either in town or country, as we have before remarked, never prevented him from attending to his professional appointments. Even in physical illness he never faltered, and has more than once fainted in the desk from bodily weakness, caused by attending to his services at church when physically unable to do so. We are forcibly reminded here of a portion of a letter from Rev. H. B. Soule, then colleague with Mr. Ballou, to Rev. Stephen R. Smith. Both of these brethren, whose light burned so bright and lovely at that time, were called home by their Maker before this elder servant in their Master's vineyard.

"You will want to hear a word of our Father in Israel. He continues in good health for a man seventy-three years old; he preaches yet as strong as most men at forty. Nothing but death will ever bring rest to his labors. Most men, at his age, would sit down, and in dreamy idleness or mere social converse wait their call. Not so with him; his God-given mission will not be finished till his lips are sealed forever. He will preach as long as he can stand; and as long as he does preach his preaching will be reverenced. Preach as long as he can stand! yes, and longer! When that aged frame, pangless and cold, sleeps in the grave; when that voice, eloquent so long with 'good tidings of great joy,' shall be hushed on earth, then will Father Ballou preach as he never did before. His life, with its sainted virtues, its noble toil, its Christian zeal, will be a sermon, – how thrilling, how divine, they will know who read it. May it be long ere it is written! God bless him in his old days, and sanctify his example to the young servant who stands beside him!"

The young brother who thus wrote spoke most truly. He studied well the character of him with whom he was associated; he realized the present effect of his words, and the future influence they must inevitably exercise. "His life," says the junior pastor, "when that voice shall be hushed upon earth, will preach as he never did before." That time has now come; we now realize this period referred to. "Though dead, he yet speaketh." Full of honors and of years, he has lain him down to sleep his last sleep; but he will still preach to us as eloquently as ever, perhaps with increased influence, through the memory of his pure and godly life, and the power of the works he has left behind. "By the world he will be remembered as the apostle of Universalism," says T. A. Goddard, the superintendent of his Sabbath-school, in his address to the school, "the advocate of the paternal character of God; and he will speak to men as of old, when he charged them to cast away their creeds and superstitions, and to search the Scriptures for themselves. To his people he will speak whenever they enter this temple, reminding them of the many years he dwelt with them in peace, and of the glorious truths that have dropped from his lips. To us he will speak, with his benignant eye, as often as we enter this room, telling us, in the language of the apostle, 'Beloved, let us love one another; for love is of God.' This theme – the love of God – was, indeed, one which he delighted to dwell upon; and with what unction would he treat it in all its length and breadth!" Yea, though his personal work be ended, yet the influence of his life-long labors will be perpetuated for centuries.

Mr. Ballou was particularly remarkable for his punctuality, and always took precaution that no matter, of whatever description, should be delayed by him. This was a point upon which he was always exceedingly tenacious. Often have we heard him say that punctuality is not merely a duty that we owe to others, but absolutely a duty to ourselves, and one of the most important principles that can be adopted and observed in every and all relations of life; and upon this belief he ever acted. If he had an engagement to proceed to any of the neighboring towns to preach, or was about to commence a journey of any considerable length, which was very often the case, he always allowed a reasonable period of time to spare at the place of starting, and took good precaution that he should never find it necessary to hurry in any emergency. In short, he made it a strict and abiding principle to be punctual in every case, important or comparatively otherwise. This was one reason why he was enabled to accomplish so much, – the proper division of time, and adherence to the appointed period for each specific purpose, giving him great command of his resources. Thus it has been said of him that he seemed completely independent of time and place, and so it would almost appear.

Burning with a constant desire to be about his Master's business, he could not remain idle for a moment when he realized that he might be profitably employed to the end of promulgating and enforcing the religion he taught. As we have before said, personal convenience or comfort were not taken into consideration at all; he was ever ready, ever willing, to respond promptly at each call; but so numerous were these, that he was obliged to adopt the principle of supplying the society first who came to him first, and those persons who read our denominational papers will have noticed that his appointments were frequently announced, up to the very last, for weeks in advance. The good that he undoubtedly accomplished in these itinerant missions must have been incalculable. Realizing that he could occupy but an hour or so in a place, he usually took up some prominent point of theology, and, by his masterly handling of the subject, cleared its questionable character entirely from the hearer's mind; and thus having gained one step before them which would impart a degree of confidence in his faith and general mode of explanation, he would then go over a most extensive field of faith, pointing out features here and there, and the props that should be raised to sustain this portion and that, and leaving the minds of the people, at last, strongly impressed with a system of theology that they might themselves understandingly pursue and reason upon, taking for a groundwork or platform that which he had clearly elucidated to their minds as the true fundamental basis of the gospel of Christ.

In reference to his frequent travels about the country, we would that it were possible to obtain more of the numerous incidents, so illustrative and characteristic, that used so constantly to occur to him. One anecdote strikes us at this moment, which is not without its bearing, as it relates to his power for repartee, or rather, we should say, his ability to turn the most familiar subjects into argumentative use and advantage.

When it is remembered that Mr. Ballou's belief was that salvation is the process of making people happy, the point of the following anecdote will be appreciated. It happened, on one of his short excursions in the neighboring country, that he stopped at a public house, where he had occasion to pass through a room which a woman was about to engage in cleaning. She had heard that he was at the house, and, being of a different faith, she determined to ask him, if an opportunity offered, just one single question, which, in her simplicity, she conceived to be perfectly unanswerable by those who believed in the doctrine Mr. Ballou advocated. As he came in, she began: – "Your name is Ballou, I believe, sir?" – "Yes, madam," said he, "my name is Ballou." – "I'm told that you preach," said the woman, "that all mankind are going to be saved." – "Yes," replied he, "I do." – "Well, Mr. Ballou," continued she, "do you believe they will be saved without first becoming perfectly holy? Do you believe they will be saved just as they are?" He looked at her mop. "What are you going to do with that mop?" he asked. – "Why, sir," replied she, "I'm going to mop up the floor." – "Are you going to mop up the floor," he asked, "before it becomes perfectly clean? Are you going to mop it up just as it is?"

Could a more happily conceived answer have been given to the woman, if hours had been consumed in its preparation? We opine not; and herein the reader will observe the instantaneous and lightning-like operation of Mr. Ballou's mind.

His conversational powers were most remarkable, – remarkable because ever tempered with such a fund of logical clear-sightedness, such profound acumen, and such convincing argument upon the topic under discussion; then we have to add to this the effect of his speech, so distinct and impressive. Hazlitt's remark of Coleridge, that he was an "excellent talker, – very, – if you let him start from no premises and come to no conclusion," would in no way apply to the subject of these memoirs; for, at the outset of Mr. Ballou's conversation, you would at once divine the end he aimed at, and would only be surprised at the velocity with which you found him leading you to the desired result, always established in his own mind, though he addressed you with the calm and collected expression that was a second nature to him. No mountain of error seemed too lofty for him to surmount, with giant strides and unbroken strength; and you would find his white flag of truth waving from its summit, and yourself breathing freer and deeper at the consummation of the rough ascent, before you had fairly found time to realize the power of reason necessary to surmount the rugged obstacles of the path. And once elevated above the murky haze of error, his descent with you again to the lowlands and plains of every-day life was as easy and graceful as his ascent had been majestic and lofty.

Often, in private conversation with those who had come to his own fireside to meet him, he was most efficacious. In the grandeur of his conception, the glory of his theme, and the unequalled sincerity with which he advocated it, his soul would seem to expand, his eyes to kindle in the expression to a surprising brilliancy, his lips and countenance seemed like those of one inspired, while you would have been almost awed at the man, had not his theme so much more power over your heart. But, having uttered such language as few could frame, having challenged your admiration and wonder by the adaptedness of every word, and the conviction that he forced upon you, he relapsed again into the quiet, peaceable, domestic soul that he was, and you would seem to look around instinctively to behold the spirit which had so entranced your faculties but a moment before, it seeming impossible that it was he who sat so quietly beside you.

Mr. Ballou's reading was confined almost entirely to sacred history, and, comparatively speaking, he consulted little else, though he was well versed on all general subjects, and he carefully perused at least one daily newspaper regularly. We remember to have asked him, at a late period of his life, why he did not vary his reading somewhat from the great theme of divinity, arguing that it might afford some relief to his mind, and be of both mental and physical benefit to him, by somewhat relaxing the constant exercise of his brain. He answered us in the words of Milton, – "The end of learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge to love him, and to venerate him;" adding, that this was the great actuating purpose of his labors and study; in short, the being, end and aim, of his existence. "That which seems to you to be labor," said he, "is to me as refreshing recreation. No course of reading could afford me the pleasure and delight that I find in that which has engaged me, heart and soul, for more than half a century."

His whole library did not exceed three hundred volumes, but these were of a character that particularly indicated the nature of his mind and pursuits, being well worn by constant use, and relating to such subjects as might be supposed to occupy and interest him. His thorough acquaintance with the Scriptures was almost unprecedented, and he was never at fault as to any passage or quotation from its wealth of knowledge. It was the book he had studied more than all others put together; nor was there any passage, in the whole of the sacred record, which had been made the theme of controversy or misunderstanding, that he had not also made the subject of careful study and exposition.

Every unoccupied moment was given to mental exercise upon the subject nearest to his heart. We have seen him thus occupied often in the street, when all the turmoil and bustle of life passed him by unheeded. On this peculiarity, Mr. Bacon says, in the eulogy before referred to: – "He wasted no power in frivolity, but as he walked the streets he seemed to be unaffected by the crowd about him, meditating some new utterance of the truth. I remember being amused, and yet impressed, by beholding him, in my youth, walking along with his head bent, and his lips moving as in speech, heeding not the passers-by or the shows in the street, appearing as quiet amid the noise and bustle as in the solitude of his own study. Yet should any one greet him by name, he would instantly pause, fix his sharp, keen eye upon the face before him, and, as he recognized the friend, one of the sweetest smiles that ever illumined a human face would spread over his countenance, deepening till that countenance was youthful indeed; then, with ready utterance of kind feeling and warm interest in the happiness of others, he made his affectionate regards known."

CHAPTER XIII.

SPIRIT OF HIS DOCTRINE

Mr. Ballou ever strove to make the word and the principles which he taught appear attractive, by representing them in their appropriate dress, the livery of joy and peace, and from the principles of fatherly love and kindness he gathered the strongest motives for humility, gratitude and obedience. He would tell you that God has written upon the fragrant flowers of the field, on the breezes that rock them, and the refreshing sun that nurtures them, indelible tokens of his fatherly affection, and would refer you to the blooming clover, and the falling rain, as blessings not to be misconstrued, in God's own hand-writing, a "way-side sacrament," free to all. He would never tire of depicting the Almighty through the spirit of the most beautiful emblems in nature, and ever deducing from them the most amiable and glorious traits of Deity.

The employment he made of the familiar images of nature will remind the reader of what we have already said touching the influences of his birth-place. The blue skies, the green pastures, the gushing rivulets, the everlasting hills that rear their giant summits to the glorious effulgence of the noon-tide sun, or the cold kiss of the midnight moon, spoke to his heart a language that his intellect faithfully interpreted. The constant contemplation of beautiful natural scenery almost invariably inspires devotional feeling. In the wonderful solitudes of nature the sneer of the infidel is hushed upon his lips, and the worldly man forgets the passions, the jealousies, the intrigues, the heart-burnings and frivolities, of his daily artificial life. But the heart of the true, thoughtful, right-minded man does something more than mirror the images presented to his eye. It is not like

" – a sleeping lake,That takes the hue of cloud and sky,And only feels its surface breakAs birds of passage wander by,That dip their wing and upward soar,Leaving it quiet as before."

Before the mind's eye of such a man, the beauties of nature do not glide away like the figures of a painted panorama, serving only to amuse, charming the eye for a moment with grace of form and beauty of manner, and then passing away like an idle dream, the "baseless fabric of a vision." In the true man, the child of God, the inner, the spiritual sense is awakened in sympathy with the material organs of vision. For him each lineament of nature is a revelation, each feature a symbol. The flowers are to him, as some one has beautifully remarked, the "alphabet of angels."

We have labored somewhat in these pages, even at the risk of repetition, to inculcate the idea that Mr. Ballou was one of these students of nature; and this was the case in a most eminent degree: the teachings that he received at her feet in youth he garnered up in his heart, to be repeated, to be illustrated, and illumined with new light from the brightness of his intellect, to be poured forth again to thousands who required so eloquent an interpreter. He had learned a lesson he could never forget, from the beautiful creations of God, of his fatherly affection. The fierce midnight storm, with its thunder-peals and lightning-flashes, had no terror for him; he knew better than to interpret it as a manifestation of the wrath and vengeful fury of the Deity; for he knew that it was to be followed by a purer and healthier atmosphere, by the glowing bow of promise, and by brighter smiles from the unshadowed sun.

In none of the varied phenomena of nature did he behold the God of wrath, the God of vengeance, the pitiless Deity of the dark theology, whose horrors he was destined to dissipate and overcome. Far from this. He deduced from every phase of nature the great truth of the all-prevailing and inexhaustible love of the Almighty for the children of his creation. Thus, by the simple symbols and tokens he had discovered, strewn like flowers along the pathway of life, he sought to awaken the torpid sense of those "who, having eyes, saw not, and having ears, heard not," the wonders of the glad tidings the angel-messengers of the Deity were commissioned to communicate to man.

Mr. Ballou's examples and illustrations of God's unbounded grace and goodness, as drawn from visible nature, were very frequent. God's word first, and then God's works, were his strength and shield. Let the following show his mode of reasoning in this particular. He says: – "If our Creator has so bountifully provided for our existence here, which is but momentary, and for our temporal wants, which will all soon be forgotten, what has he not done for the security of our immortal state, and for our enjoyment in the everlasting world? Pause, and behold what boundless scenes of riches and glory are opening to our view in Jesus, by whom life and immortality are brought to light! We have seen the brightness of the morning sun, have known the renovating majesty of his noon-tide rays, have seen a fair creation blest with his universal light and heat! But this is only a symbol of the Sun of Righteousness; his brightness is above that of the morning sun, his heat is more renovating than the rays of the noon. In him our Heavenly Father hath given unto us eternal life. As the life of the natural is in the sun, so the life of the moral creation is in Jesus, the light of the world, the life of man. If the earth be full of the goodness of the Lord, have we not in this a fair specimen of the rest of his vast creation? Have we any reason to believe that the earth is more favored with the divine goodness than any other part or parts of creation? No, surely we have not. All those worlds which sparkle in the wide expanse of heaven are full of the goodness of the Lord; and if time be all full of divine goodness, so is eternity; and if God be universally good temporally speaking, so is he in relation to spiritual things. What infinite reason have we to exercise our hearts in gratitude to God, and our affections in love to him, who giveth us all things richly to enjoy! With what propriety may we say, 'Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord!'"

Observe how vastly different was the effect produced by the tenets of faith preached by many around him! How far from lovable was the portraiture drawn of God and Heaven by those who held forth the creed of the old school!

How many preachers of this school have won their ephemeral reputations solely by awakening the terrors of their auditors, and have been esteemed great in proportion to their ability to produce fainting, convulsions, tears and groans, among women and children! The perverted vision of such men rests on no image of nature, except such as they can distort to symbolize some imaginary dreadful attribute in the God of their theology. He is clothed by them in storms and clouds, as the heathen Jove was depicted grasping in his hand a sheaf of thunderbolts. From their portraiture every gleam of light is excluded, – it is a murky and repulsive mass of shadows. The gentle and fragrant flowers, the sweet perfumes and rainbow colors with which the face of nature is so prodigally decked, claim no word or thought of theirs; they cannot employ these images in their illustrations, they cannot reconcile them with their gloomy theories, – their very existence is unaccountable to their perverse vision.

"That gloomy, heart-dejecting something," says Mr. Ballou, "which has been maintained in our world at an incalculable expense of treasure, of comfort, peace and joy, – at the expense, also, of the tender charities of the heart, and the benevolent sentiments of the soul, – though called religion, is all counterfeit. It has drawn a sable curtain over the mildly radiant countenance of our Father in heaven, and in room of leading the mind to contemplate the Divine Being with pleasure and delight, it has attached a horror to the sacred name, which gives a stupefying chill to the heart, repels the mind, and forces it to seek relief in the contemplation of visible and sensible objects; and after becoming the author of this horror and disgust in the soul, it artfully takes the advantage of the deception, to inculcate a belief that the reason of these feelings is the natural depravity of the human heart! Such are the views which youth are led to entertain of religion, that they contemplate it as something calculated to deprive them of their present comforts, and only useful as it relates to a state of existence hereafter, where, as a recompense for sacrifices which they make of happiness in this world, they are to receive extensive and lasting blessings. With such reflections, it is natural to delay the concerns of religion as long as possible, with an intention to submit to its unpleasant requirements in season to win the prize. This is evidently the reason why youth are so little inclined to employ their thoughts on divine things, and to prefer amusements and trifling vanities to the acquisition of Christian knowledge.

"But true religion presents the Father of our spirits as the most lovely character of which the mind can possibly conceive. It directs to the contemplation of that almighty power which controls a universe, and to view all its elements in harmony with the unchangeable love of God to his creatures. In youth, while the heart is tender, and sensibility quick and lively, what an exquisite delight the mind is capable of enjoying, by penetrating through visible objects and the beauty of temporal things, to the contemplation of that wisdom, power and goodness, which are manifest through the medium of these outward forms! If the fragrance of the rose can so gratefully delight the sense, how much greater is the pleasure to the rational mind which flows from the consideration of that wisdom and goodness which gave this power to the rose, and this capacity to sense! From this single item let the mind glance through all creation, and freely indulge the reflection that the universe is as full of the divine goodness as the rose or the lily of the valley. Freed from superstition, what heart would not be charmed with the character which the Saviour gives of our Heavenly Father? 'Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin; and yet I say unto you that even Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these.'"

These mute, but beautiful and eloquent testimonials of their Maker's love and gentleness, would rebuke the dogmatism of the schools; and hence they naturally avoid to mention the graceful, refined and touching features of nature. They prefer rather to revel in their own dark and unwarrantable conceptions of a future state, to gloat over the prospective agony of their brethren, to conjure up horrid pictures of future suffering and woe, and madly to pronounce all as being necessary to the full glory of God, and the exemplification of his almighty power. What wonder, then, that thousands, turning with loathing and shuddering from the image of a deity clothed with all the repugnant attributes of the most debased humanity, plunge into hopeless unbelief, refusing all credence in such a being, and in any future state whatever? Was it not a Herculean task to combat the immemorial and prescriptive dogmas of powerful and learned preachers, armed with all the rhetorical imagery of the schools for working terror and despair in the hearts of their listeners?