"Will you answer me one question, Mr. Ballou?"
"Certainly, if I can do so at such short notice," said Mr. Ballou, smiling at the man's impetuosity.
"Well, sir," said the deacon, "what will become of a man who goes out of the world cursing and swearing, and calling on God to damn his soul to hell?"
"Do you believe, my dear sir," said Mr. Ballou, "that a righteous God would answer the vile prayer of such a wicked wretch?"
"Why no," said the deacon, "of course not."
"You have answered your own question then," said Mr. Ballou, quietly, while the deacon turned away much disconcerted.
It is so true that Folly's shallow lip can ask the deepest question, that it is well to remember sometimes, that a fool should be answered according to his folly.
"The frequency of his times of preaching, in the former part of his ministry," says the editor of the Repository, "can be but ill imagined now, nor the intense interest with which his message was listened to by the multitude. At times he would preach between two appointments, while his horse was feeding,—his pulpit the base of a noble oak, and the congregation reverently standing in its broad shadow. Taking advantage of his haste in leaving, some question would be asked him by some restive, dogmatic deacon, and the undreamed of answer, that came as the lightning's flash, would add new fuel to the fire of interest he had kindled in the midst of the people."
In this connection we are reminded of an anecdote, for which we are indebted to Rev. Sylvanus Cobb, of the Christian Freeman. We introduce it here to show Mr. Ballou's power of argument without the least tincture of ostentation. It was often his way in debate to ask some apparently simple but natural question, which his opponent answering, as he obviously must do, would almost certainly refute his own fragile creed or position, and himself and others would be led to see where the truth really was. Mr. Cobb says:—
"The world at large have known much of the powers and genius of Mr. Ballou's mind from his published works, but he had most lovely traits of character which a personal acquaintance only could discover. While an intellectual giant in strength, he was unaffectedly modest and unassuming, and never engaged in mere disputations. He would never enter into a combat for mere personal mastery, nor pursue a noisy contest with one who showed himself to be insincere and trickish; while his own meekness and simplicity of spirit, combined with his clearness of perception, would generally cut down the swaggering, cavilling spirit, if he came in contact with it.