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.

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.

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.

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.

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

"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.

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,

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.

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 preËminence 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.