"The largest audience I remember to have addressed," he says, "was in Washington Garden Saloon, Philadelphia, which my friends had procured for me, finding the meeting-houses far too small to accommodate the crowds that thronged to our meetings. This hall, which will accommodate some six thousand people, was crowded to excess. On no former occasion did I ever feel more pressed with the weight of duty which lay upon me, nor a more sensible need of divine assistance. The attention of the audience, and the multitude of friendly hands which were extended to receive my adieu, seemed to speak a language which signified the approbation of my divine Master, which, to me, is far better than life." One of the most marked peculiarities of Mr. Ballou's character was not only his almost inexpressible degree of simplicity, but his perfect self-possession, and unmoved and placid calmness, under any and all circumstances. When he arose to address an audience of thousands, as was the case above referred to, they awed him not; he would have spoken the same in a private dwelling of New Hampshire, before a few hastily assembled friends, or, with the same prophetic unction, in a barn;--the village school-house or the city church were all alike to him. When he arose to address an audience, whether of thousands or of scores, it was always with a heart so full of his theme, so lowly and humble before his Maker, that not a thought betrayed itself in action of a character to indicate that he considered _himself_ in the slightest degree, or that there was such a being as self in existence. And then, when he spoke, it was not with the adornments of rhetorical elegance, nor with a striving after effect; not one useless or unnecessary word fell from his lips; it was simplicity and impressiveness personified. Such preaching was _natural_; there was not an artificial element in it. No wonder that it produced such results; no wonder that he should witness the visible fruits of his labors ripening about him. It was no spirit of fanaticism that created such a furore in the public to hear him, it was not _fear_ for their own good hope of salvation that brought people together in such masses; it was not excitement, that grand agent of revival meetings generally. No; it was a far worthier influence than these; it was a desire to hear the good tidings that the preacher dispensed, as he alone could do. It was to partake of the bread of life that they came, and they were filled. He was emphatically the messenger of "peace and good will to men;" and the multitudes who came to hear the words of promise from his lips, received them as the shepherds did to whom the angels bore the glad tidings as they "watched their flocks by night."