Mr. Ballou undoubtedly owed the vigorous health which carried him through the exertions of a life protracted beyond the allotted span, to the athletic training of his youth, in his labors and in his sports. One of the besetting sins of the present mode of education is the almost total neglect of physical training, and the forcing system applied to the mind at the expense of the body. We hear much about sanitary reform and the necessity of exercise; we write and read voluminous treatises on the best mode of preserving bodily health, and almost all of us can talk learnedly upon the subject, and yet in practice we set at naught all our elaborate theories. How rare it is to see a vigorous, ruddy-cheeked student. The ancients were wiser than ourselves in this respect, for with them mental and physical training went hand in hand. A popular form of instruction was that given orally in the open air; and thus, during the very hours of study, the frame was submitted to the healthy influence of pure air. The subject of these memoirs often referred to the pale cheek, stooping form, and defective vision which are characteristics of the American student, and he never failed to inculcate on all proper occasions the preservation of health as a high moral duty. While of tender age, and in each successive year, he evinced an ardent and constantly increasing desire for scriptural knowledge; and the earliest dawnings of his young mind among his brethren were of a character that gave promise of the Christian grace and excellence to which he attained in after years. It is interesting and curious to trace the unconscious, and, so to speak, the providential adaptation of the early life to the future calling of riper experience. Mr. Ballou says, in relation to this subject:--"I was remarkably inquisitive, even when a mere boy, about doctrines. I was fond of reasoning on doctrinal points, studied and talked much upon the subject of free will and necessity. I well remember to have surprised my honored father with such a question as the following: 'Suppose I had the skill and power out of an inanimate substance to make an animate, and should make one, at the same time knowing that this creature of mine would suffer everlasting misery,--would my act of creating this creature be an act of goodness?' The question troubled my father, and I let it pass without an answer."