Mr. Ballou's idea of death, as being but the portal to blissful immortality, may be gathered by the following, from his own pen:
"The idea of immortality makes everything in life valuable. Here we may lay up all our treasures, where neither moth nor rust can corrupt, nor thieves break through and steal. Here God's bright favor will never grow dim, nor will our love and gratitude ever decay. Do you see Hope's celestial form, leaning on her anchor, and, while the raging waves of a restless sea dash against her, she remains unmoved? Do you observe her aspect firm, and her eyes turned towards heaven? And would you wish to cast her down, and wreck her on the quicksands of dismal doubt? Go, brother, to the chamber of sickness, where life's waning embers can no longer warm the dying heart; there hear from cold and quivering lips this hope expressed: 'I long to be with Christ,—I long to be at rest!' Would you blast this amaranthine flower? Would you plant in its stead the nightshade of despair? Listen no longer to the wild suggestions of fancy and wandering imaginations, under the specious pretence of searching after truth. For Jesus is the way, the truth and the life.
'Give me the light of this bright sun to see;
All other lights like meteors are to me.'"
"I think one thing is certain," says Mr. Ballou, in one of his last published articles, "and that is, that the opinion that we immediately enter on that state into which the resurrection introduces mankind is far more desirable, to all people, than the opinion that ages of unconscious sleep succeed our brief existence here in the flesh. * * * In conclusion, I will say that I am sensible that there are passages of scripture which seem to favor the opinion of a general, simultaneous resurrection, which appear difficult to reconcile with such as I have above noticed; but that they outweigh them I have no sufficient reason to allow. The supposition that all who have died have until now remained in an unconscious state, seems more like annihilation than well accords with our glorious hope."
Mr. Ballou's mind was ever made up to meet death at any moment; and, with implicit reliance on the goodness and fatherly care of Him in whose hand we all are, and who does not permit even a sparrow to fall to the ground without his knowledge, he left all to the wise decree of Heaven, and loaded not his soul with fear of the result. He conversed but little upon the subject; but when he did so, it was with a cheerful spirit and contented mind.
His profession was such as to make him familiar with death in all its forms. It was no strange subject to him; but, on the contrary, one which had engaged much of his thought and earnest consideration. With so full and implicit a reliance in the complete sovereignty of the Almighty as his religious belief imparted, he could have no fear or doubt as to the perfectness of the decrees of Providence. He literally argued everything for good, and that nothing transpired without a purpose of the Director of all things; and in that purpose he recognized but one principle, which was the good of the children of men. These premises once established in his mind, what fear could he possibly entertain of death? It is a part of the Divine economy,—that was enough for him. Applied to any dispensation of Providence, or to tenets of faith, this same reliance will be found evinced in all his ministrations and life. He says:—"We have ever this pleasing reflection,—this sublime, this instructive lesson,—that the wisdom which constitutes the vast frame of the universe, and which organized all nature,—the power that raised this glorious superstructure upon its basis,—has ever been directed, and ever will be directed, towards the good and benefit of mankind. That there can be no such thing as partiality, or anything like cruelty, in all the system of God, as the moral governor of the world, is as plain a proposition as can possibly be stated. There is not in the bosom of our Father in Heaven any principle but goodness to his children. There is not in the bosom of our Heavenly Father, nor can there be, anything like cruelty or partiality; but his eternal wisdom is ever working for the benefit of his creatures."
He held the grave to be a calm, safe anchorage for the shattered hulls of men,—the portal through which the spirit passes to God who gave it. Concerning this subject there are a few lines from his pen so applicable in this connection, that we cannot refrain from transcribing them here. In common with those pieces which we have already given the reader, there is no effort at grandeur in the piece; the beauty and propriety of the poem is undisguised by metaphor, being put down in the tender and persuasive language of a Christian heart, pleading for the good of man, and the honor of its Maker. Mr. Ballou's poetical productions are such an index of his soul, his real character, that we are induced again to refer to the fact. They are ever like himself, simple, yet forcible, and never without a purpose, and most incontrovertible argument, expressed or implied. The following poem was written in his seventy-third year, and is entitled
FEAR NOT DEATH.
"Why call we death to man a foe?
Why should we fear to die?
Does heavenly wisdom teach us so?
Let us the question try.
Is he of independent might?
Does he himself sustain?
These questions if we answer right,
Will make our subject plain.