A certain brother in the ministry said to the writer of these pages,—"You are preparing a biography of your father?" We replied in the affirmative. "Well," said he, "you have sat down at home and listened to his preaching before his own society, and have doubtless a true appreciation of his ability; but you should have seen him before a body of ministering brethren, at a state or national convention. You should have seen him there, to write truly of him. When it was announced at such assemblies that Father Ballou would preach, we all knew what to expect, and all reaped a harvest of rich thoughts, pure doctrine, original arguments, and available material for our own future use in a more limited sphere. He was not only eloquent, he was electrifying; and while we reverenced him, we also loved him like a father." And this we feel positive is not merely the opinion of one man, but of the order generally.
"Would that I could renew the sights I have seen," says the Rev. Henry Bacon, "where thousands, in a crowded and heated assembly in New Hampshire, were held in wondering and admiring attention, as the venerated preacher set forth the 'exceeding great and precious promises' as exhibitive of creating and preserving Love. The riches of grace were poured upon the souls of the people as a refreshing shower on the earth; and hundreds of old men, who had been awakened from the nightmare of traditional theology, or the sleep of indifference to God and his service, listened, while the tears coursed down their furrowed cheeks, as he renewed in their souls the raptures of the past. O never can I forget one sermon thus delivered, when he spake to us of those who knew God's name and would put their trust under the shadow of his wings, which wings were stretched over time and eternity! Eloquent, was he? Yes, if rapt attention, if profound emotion, if lasting enthusiasm and tearful gratitude be any test of the effects of eloquence. With no exertion, that wondrously clear and silvery voice would float over the congregation, and the auditor who was the farthest removed from the speaker, caught the simple words, conveying the grandest thoughts most felicitously illustrated. There was no pretension in his oratory; he spake right on, warming with his subject, setting up the noblest claims for adoring obedience to God, in all his requirements, exhorting the people to religious duty by the mercies of God."
The effect of his words, in public delivery especially, was greatly heightened by the truly benevolent expression of his countenance, and by his remarkably venerable appearance. It has been beautifully said of President Kirkland, that his face was a benediction; and we have often heard similar comparisons made by those who have known and been familiar with Mr. Ballou. He wore his hair, white with age, parted smoothly in the centre of the forehead, and resting behind the ears, but not long in the neck. In a number of lithographs, engravings and miniatures, in the possession of his family and others, the hair is represented as short, and parted thus; but latterly he wore it long, as described above.
There was expressed in his countenance a serenity of disposition that was peculiar to him, a philanthropy of purpose which characterized all his dealings, and a wisdom and calm dignity that led even the stranger to feel a degree of respect for him at once. The blamelessness of his life and the gentleness of his disposition alone form a theme over which memory and friendship have poured their consecration. As to the matter of his personal manner and bearing, while he avoided the strict rules of forced etiquette, yet he was scrupulously attentive in society to the dictates of true politeness. His form was as straight and erect at the age of seventy-five as at twenty.
As he advanced in years, his style of delivery grew perhaps more subdued, but none the less distinct and impressive. He spoke perhaps with less of the fire of zeal, yet with none the less spirit and real effect. He could not treat of the divine love and sufferings of Christ, or of the deep and unbounded grace of God, without evincing the warmest feelings, and moving the audience to tears by his eloquence upon these touching subjects. He would not unfrequently be completely overcome himself, in dwelling upon this theme in public.
His was a noble example of a well-balanced mind, without any of that startling, comet-like splendor, which has usually been considered as the very light in which genius lives and moves. His faculties were all brought into admirable harmony, and thus operated with powerful and never-failing effect. There were no contending elements in his nature; no struggles of ambition; no strife of penuriousness; no battling of passion. Like the beautiful harmony of the elements of nature, his bosom was redolent of concord. And what a worshipper he was, too, of the forms of nature, and her mysteriously glorious works about him! There was no object in nature so minute or so apparently unimportant but had attractions for his scrutinizing eye. He was exceedingly fond of flowers,—those "illumined scriptures of the prairie,"—of the rural scenery, the lowing herds and various tenants of the grove. Often have we heard him praise and dilate upon these, when, a mere boy, we have travelled with him upon his various missions into the country. He was one to
"Find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything."
"Stay for a moment," he said to us, on a certain occasion, as we were riding through the country, and had just surmounted a high elevation, commanding a beautiful view of the outspread plain below. It was the closing of a clear autumnal New England day. "What a mild and holy religion is breathed by nature in such a scene as this! How soft the influence that steals over the senses! Though fresh from God's own hand, and quickened by his presence, it teaches us no terror, no gloom; it rouses no fierce passions within the heart; it is calm, meek, forgiving; and equally for all breathing things. How hallowed and God-like are the blissful teachings of nature!"
He gazed so long, in silence, upon the silvery Connecticut, where it threads its course not far from Holyoke Mountain, following out the theme of his thoughts, that we marked well what he had just said, and remembered it. We had just risen a hill that overlooked the verdant plains of Hadley, and the scene is as fresh to us now as though but an hour had intervened. Such appreciations and realizations were most natural to him; and a vein of illustration, drawn from these lovely exhibitions of nature, will be found running through the broad meadows of his doctrinal arguments, like a purling stream, refreshing and vivifying the verdure of divine truth. A reference to nature in her rural dress and belongings, as illustrative of the great plan and purpose of God's goodness and impartiality, was a favorite custom with him. He would draw thence so many incentives for thankfulness, such unmistakable tokens of Omnipotent impartiality and universal love, such powerful reasons for disbelieving the unhappy creed that imputed to a Being, whose works are redolent of loveliness, attributes so repugnant to the heart of his children, that few could listen unmoved,—few refrain from outwardly evincing the realizing sense he produced in their pliant understandings. With a full appreciation of these divine evidences of God's goodness, we say it was most natural for him to pause thus; and, with eyes drinking in of the spirit of the scene before us, exclaim, as he did, that it "taught no terror, no gloom; but that its influence was meek, forgiving, and equally for all breathing things."
By strict frugality and industry, Mr. Ballou acquired for himself a competency, besides dividing a handsome sum of money between his children; and in this latter respect he was somewhat original in his mode of carrying out a disposition of his property. He chose to give to his children while he lived, preferring to witness the pecuniary assistance he might render to his family, and to participate in its enjoyments in his own life-time. His means were acquired solely through patient labor and frugality. He never enjoyed a farthing in the way of legacy, nor by any fortunate turn of business or speculation. These matters he never engaged in at all, and often said that he was perfectly satisfied with a return of six per cent. for his money; and that if others felt the same, much of misery and misfortune would be spared them and the world at large. Some idea may be formed of the careful manner in which he considered his responsibilities by the following facts, namely: he never placed his name to a note, or due bill, in the whole period of his life; never borrowed money; never kept an account at any place of business, but always paid for that which he bought at the time of purchasing, however large or trifling the amount; and, after his long experience of life, he endeavored to impress upon his children that an adherence to these rules, as far as was practicable, would be productive to them of much good, and prevent a vast deal of trouble, and needless anxiety of mind, in relation to secular matters.