Biography of Rev. Hosea Ballou

by Maturin M. Ballou

"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.