"During the entrance, the organ gave forth a mournful prelude. The sight was a most affecting one,--so vast a mult.i.tude with such an expression of sorrow upon their countenances.
"1. The services were introduced by a funeral chant, after which
"2. Scriptures were read by Rev. O. A. Skinner.
"3. The following hymn was sung, many of the congregation joining their voices to that of the choir.
HYMN.
"On Zion"s holy walls Is quenched a beacon-light; In vain the watchman calls, "Sentry! what of the night?"
No answering voice is here; Say,--does the soldier sleep?
O, yes,--upon the bier, His watch no more to keep.
Still is that heaven-touched tongue, Pulseless the throbbing breast; That voice with music strung Forever put to rest To rest? A living thought, Undimmed, unquenched, he soars, An essence, spirit wrought, Of yon immortal sh.o.r.es.
Peace to thee, man of G.o.d!
Thine earthly toils are o"er; The th.o.r.n.y path is trod, The Shepherd trod before.
Full well he kept his word,-- "I"m with thee to the end; Fear not! I am the Lord, Thy never-failing friend!"
We weave no dirge for thee,-- It should not call a tear To know that thou art free; Thy home,--it was not here!
Joy to thee, man of G.o.d!
Thy heaven-course is begun; Unshrinking thou hast trod Death"s vale,--thy race is run!"
"4. Prayer, by Rev. Thomas Whittemore.
"5. Hymn, "Vital Spark of Heavenly Flame!"
"6. Sermon, by Rev. A. A. Miner, junior pastor, from 2 Cor. 5: 1,--"For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of G.o.d, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."
"7. Hymn, "Unveil thy Bosom, Faithful Tomb."
"8. Concluding Prayer, by Rev. Sebastian Streeter.
"9. Benediction.
"During the singing of the last hymn, persons began to press around the coffin, to get a last view of the departed. Notice was therefore given, at the close of the service, that the coffin would be placed in the entry, and all would have an opportunity to see, as they pa.s.sed out; but, on account of the great number, each must content himself with a brief farewell view. The funeral procession was formed in the following order: 1st. Bearers, in carriages. 2d. The body. 3d. The committee of the society. 4th. The clergy of the Universalist denomination, amounting to nearly a hundred. 5th. The members of the Second Universalist Society. 6th. The friends from the neighboring towns. 7th. The mourners, in carriages.
"This procession extended from the head of School-street to the corner of Boylston-street, being nearly half a mile.
"An immense body of people had arrived at the ground previously to the funeral procession. The corpse was borne to the temporary resting-place, in the burying-ground at the foot of the Common, where it was deposited. The lid of the coffin was raised, and those who desired pa.s.sed by once more, and then the solemn scene was closed."
The last Sabbath that Mr. Ballou preached was on the 30th of May, 1852,--eight days before his death,--at Woonsocket, R. I. The texts were the following:
"FORENOON.--Ecclesiastes 12: 13, 14. "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear G.o.d, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man. For G.o.d shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil."
"AFTERNOON.--t.i.tus 2: 11, 12. "For the grace of G.o.d that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying unG.o.dliness and worldly l.u.s.ts, we should live soberly, righteously and G.o.dly, in this present world.""
The fact of Mr. Ballou"s having preached his last sermon in Rev. John Boyden"s desk, a brother who had once been an inmate of his family as a student of divinity, has elicited the following letter, which seems particularly appropriate here:
"DEAR SIR:--
"I rejoice most sincerely to learn, as I do this day, that you are so soon to give us a memoir of Father Ballou. And, if it be not asking too much, I should be glad of a little s.p.a.ce, that I may record my tribute of filial affection. He was to me a father, indeed; and to him I owe more than to any other man,--and, perhaps, all others,--for the little good I may have accomplished as a minister of Christ. He was my teacher when he knew it not.
"When I was about fourteen years old, I heard him preach, in the town of Brookfield; and I am sure the impression that sermon made will remain to the end of my life. It was designed to unfold the riches of Christ Jesus. As the theme opened, the audience became intensely interested; and, as the preacher gathered and arranged the sacred testimony, to unfold the gracious purposes of our Heavenly Father as manifested through the Redeemer, we seemed like hungry children, watching the maternal hands that feed them. And when he laid the precious burden before us, he would exclaim, in all his wonted earnestness, "_Do_ you _see the unsearchable riches of Christ?_" Again he would go forth, gathering other fruits of the divine love, and again repeat, as a part of his text, "Do you see the unsearchable riches of Christ?" This was the conclusion of each division of the discourse; and it served not only to rivet it in our minds, but, by the involuntary mental response which it induced, made us almost co-workers with the speaker, and thus gave us growing interest in the theme.
"From that hour, and from the influence of that single discourse, I had a strong desire to aid in unfolding the "unsearchable riches of Christ" to my fellow-men. My young heart felt, for the first time, that there was a fulness in the provision which our Father had made for us that the world had not known; and it seemed to me I _must_, some time, preach that blessed gospel. Not more than three or four years after that time, I heard him preach one of his masterly sermons, in Charlton, which fired my soul anew with a desire to enter the ministry. His text was, "For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord," &c. After reading the text, he carefully folded his gla.s.ses, put them in his pocket, as was his custom, and, while the audience were waiting with breathless attention, that they might secure the first word that should fall from his lips, he began thus:--"The text _supposes_ that there _is_ such a thing as a man"s preaching _himself_." The audience _breathed_,--a token that they already possessed the key to the sermon. But it was a remarkable characteristic of his sermons, that, though you might early antic.i.p.ate the conclusion to which he was coming, yet you could not foresee the _process_ by which he was to lead you, since that was peculiarly original. That sermon strengthened my conception of the glory of the gospel as we understand it, and especially when he contrasted with it the fading and sickly glory of all forms of partialism. He made us understand how easy and agreeable a duty it was to preach Christ; because in him there was neither inconsistency, partiality nor cruelty. A sermon from this text, I know, has been printed; but _that_ sermon I have never seen on paper, nor can my poor pen describe the heavenly glow of feeling expressed by the countenances of that a.s.sembly. Perchance the record is in heaven.
"On the fourteenth day of May, 1829, I entered his family as a student; and let me here say it was _home_. There were my adopted father and mother, brothers and sisters; and never were the beautiful relations indicated by these endearing words in a single instance marred. G.o.d bless them, for the words of sympathy and encouragement that fell upon the ear of the timid young man! The recollections of my experience in that family tell me that no man knows the good he is doing, if his heart be right. There is a world of power in a single word, when it falls on a needy and congenial soil.
"During the last week of that month, and when I had, as yet, written but one sermon, Father Ballou engaged with Father Leonard, of Gloucester, that I should supply his desk the following Sunday.
I remonstrated. I had never spoken in public, except to declaim as a school-boy; and it seemed to me I _could_ not stand up alone and preach all day, and especially so soon after formally commencing my studies. But to all this his reply, in substance, was, that the gospel was very easy to be understood; that the matter of it was all furnished to my hands; that I was only a _steward_ of G.o.d"s grace, and had only to give to the people what was given to me in the divine word. Well, I told him I would go, if he said so; but he would have to bear the responsibility, if I failed.
"In the morning, before leaving for Gloucester, I read my last sermon to him; and then it was that he gave me a word of commendation, that was like a generous shower upon the parched ground. And this was followed by the well-remembered injunction: "Brother Boyden, I have only one word to say in reference to your labors, and that is, _be in earnest_. Don"t speak one word without making the people understand and feel that you believe it with all your heart." This was the only charge he ever gave me, till, at my ordination, in Berlin, Ct., in 1830, he enjoined it upon me to carry the spirit of our holy religion into all my labors, and especially when I should go to the chamber of sickness, and to the house of mourning. The tremulous words, as they fell from the lips of the father upon his son, stirred the whole audience with emotion. They were treasured in many hearts, and often repeated, both by the old and young, who waited on my ministry.
"For myself, I must say they made a lasting impression on my mind; and often, since that time, as I have visited the sick and dying, has that venerable form preceded me, renewing the tender injunction, "Come in the spirit of the blessed Redeemer." I trust those words were not thrown away. And when, as will happen with most men, my wearied frame has imparted languor to my speech, I have sometimes been aroused by the sudden recollection of that stirring appeal--"Be in earnest." I know it has often quickened and warmed my zeal; and when I remember that it was the motto of his life to the last, I pray that it may be to me as a live coal from the altar.
"_Punctuality_ is another of the sterling virtues that cl.u.s.ter around that name, and his example has been of special service to me. It characterized all his labors. I have known him much for twenty-three years, and I never knew him to be late in fulfilling any engagement, and he always took time, so as not to be in a hurry. On the occasion of the installation of Bro. A. Bugbee, of Charlton, some years ago, he delivered the scriptures and gave the charge. In the course of his address, he dwelt upon the above-named virtue with no little feeling. "Bro. Bugbee," said he, "when you come to church, _come in season_. Don"t let the people come here and wait, and wonder within themselves, saying, Where is Bro.
Bugbee? Is Bro. Bugbee sick? And O, don"t forget to take time, before you commence your services, to put up a silent prayer to G.o.d, that he may aid and a.s.sist you in the discharge of your sacred duties."
"I know that that occasion was one of peculiar joy to many hearts, and it was as the blessing of G.o.d on my soul. The religious spirit within us was quickened; and many a time since, in my humble efforts to preach the gospel, that "silent prayer" has brought celestial fire from heaven, and imparted new life to my spiritual being. Doubtless there are many in the ministry whose experience accords with my own in these things, and whose usefulness may be in a good measure attributed to the personal influence of that great and good man, who, great as he was, could not have comprehended the vast results of which his unostentatious life was the agent.
And may we not all be encouraged to hope, that, if we live good lives, the harvest will extend beyond the ken of the sower?
"But the most interesting fact, to me, in the life of my spiritual father, is, that he closed his public services in my own pulpit, in the presence of a delighted congregation, and, as I believe, of an approving G.o.d. His last sermons are well remembered, even by _children_. He has never preached here with greater zeal, power, and comprehensiveness. We accept his services as the blessing of a dying hour, and our veneration for the man is mingled with grat.i.tude to the everlasting Father, for so great a gift to our world.
"Fraternally yours, "J. BOYDEN, JR.
"_Woonsocket, July 6, 1852._"
The following is taken from the report of L. W. Ballou, superintendent of the Sabbath-school attached to the Woonsocket Universalist Society, which school the subject of this biography visited and spoke before on the day referred to. It is especially interesting as being connected with his last public efforts.
"On the thirtieth of May it was our privilege to be visited by, and to receive the last public instructions of, our venerable Father Ballou; for in one week from the time he left us "the golden bowl was broken,"
and that voice to which we had so recently listened, and which had breathed life and joy into so many souls, was hushed forever. But in his works, in his example, in the glorious doctrines which for more than sixty years he labored to establish, he still lives and speaks, and will live and speak for ages to come. Long, I trust, shall we remember that venerable form, that cheerful and benevolent countenance, and the words of encouragement and hope with which, for the last time, he addressed us, rejoicing that we were no longer taught as in times past, and as some are even now, that by nature we are children of wrath, and under the curse of G.o.d; but that G.o.d is our father, our benefactor, our best friend,--that he cares for and is blessing us always. Thus did our aged father close his public ministrations, in proclaiming the same great doctrine which he had spent his life to establish,--the unbounded, universal, and unchangeable love of G.o.d to man.
"Let us be as faithful to the truth, and in the performance of our duty, in the sphere in which we move, as he was in his, and the same rich blessings will attend us."
The subject of this biography entered most heartily and sincerely into the spirit of Sabbath-schools; and since their general introduction in our societies, throughout the order, he has taken peculiar satisfaction in improving every suitable occasion for addressing and encouraging both teachers and scholars in the object which engaged them, wherever he was called to preach. In his own society he had seen the great good to be derived from such an inst.i.tution, as it regards the rearing of the tender mind in the garden of the Lord; and he often mingled professionally with children and teachers. The able and feeling remarks of the superintendent, Mr. G.o.ddard, as given above, will show the appreciation in which the members of the school had been taught to hold their pastor, and the spirit that actuated the hearts of the teachers towards him, under whose Christian teachings they had, most of them, been brought up from childhood.
The following verses, an invaluable legacy to Mr. Ballou"s family, and to all those who really loved him, were written by him in antic.i.p.ation of the closing hour of his life. The date we cannot give, as the original paper bears none; but, from accessory circ.u.mstances, and remarks which he made to his wife, that he felt he was "nearly worn out," and that she must be prepared to hear of his decease at any hour,--perhaps, even, away from home,--they may be supposed to express his feelings more particularly within a very few days of the close of his life. They require no dedication from us. They are priceless, and beautiful in the extreme.
The verses are thus introduced:--
"A minister, experiencing certain infirmities of body which strongly suggested to him that he might be suddenly called away, wrote the following
FAREWELL ADDRESS.
I.