Biography of Rev. Hosea Ballou

by Maturin M. Ballou

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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