At the age of twenty-five, and while resident in the town of Dana, he became acquainted with the family of Stephen Washburn, in the town of Williamsburg, Mass., and, after an intimate acquaintance of about a year, he married their youngest daughter, Ruth Washburn, who was some eight years younger than himself. His wife, like her husband, had been brought up to habits of industry and economy; she proved a kind, constant, and devoted help-mate through his entire life, sharing with him every joy and every burthen, and, by the influence of a naturally strong and well balanced mind, a cheerful and gentle disposition, exercising a most goodly influence upon his life and labors. She became the careful and prudent mother of a large family, nine of whom lived to rear families themselves during the life of their parents. Through their whole lives there was a remarkable oneness of feeling, and a depth of affection evinced by each for the other, that years served only to increase, and old age to cement the more closely. But of this matter we may yet speak more fully.
Mr. Ballou resided in the town of Dana for about seven years, devoting every spare hour to careful study of the Scriptures, systematizing his time by a careful division of the hours of the day, and permitting himself but a very brief portion of time for sleep.
When we say that he devoted his time so assiduously to study, we do not mean that he occupied himself in the perusal of books alone. He thought much, communed with himself alone, and even at that period accustomed himself to a degree of inward or mental communion with himself, that would seem to exclude the world about him, for the time being, from his sense of seeing or hearing. This was more observable in later years, when he often sat long in his study thus, sometimes with his eyes closed, sometimes with their pupils directed to the floor or the ceiling of the room, his lips moving, and at last, having seemingly weighed well some important matter, he would rouse again as if from a trance, and look about him with apparent satisfaction at the result he seemed to have accomplished. Sometimes these moments were followed by the use of the pen for records in his note-book of texts and sermon heads, sometimes by a reference to the Scriptures, and sometimes by a walk in the open air; then his lips would be seen to move, and he would be quite oblivious to all outward circumstances. He studied thus, carefully and deeply. At times he would walk in the fields or the woods while thus occupied; and the family never disturbed him by any remarks, or by calling his attention, while he was thus mentally absorbed. In another part of this biography, reference will be found concerning this peculiarity, as exhibited at a later period of his life, and observed by one who was an inmate of his family, and a student of divinity with him. The family were accustomed to his mood in these matters, but it usually affected a stranger, or one not familiar with him, in quite an impressive and solemn manner; it seemed so much as though he was communing with unseen spirits, and a power that was invisible to those about him or to himself, save through the powers of his mental vision.
It would seem that the little bodily rest which he allowed himself at this period must have induced physical debility; and yet it did not appear to do so. In travelling, a large portion of his short journeyings were made in the evening; sometimes at midnight even, and often before the break of day, in order to fulfil necessary appointments without encroaching upon his arrangements at home. When stopping for his horse to take rest and food, himself much fatigued, he would take his watch from his pocket, and, laying it upon a table near some place where he could find a recumbent position, he would carefully mark the time, and say distinctly to himself, "I will sleep now for just one hour, when I must awake and go on." Singular as this may seem, he has told us that he never failed to awake at the expiration of the hour, and, much refreshed, he would mount his horse and press on to fill some professional engagement, perhaps twenty or thirty miles from the stopping-place. At other times, while his horse was eating, he would deliver a sermon, and, having completed it, would, without stopping for any physical refreshment for himself, start off once more on his mission.
"In searching the Scriptures," he says, "to enable myself to preach as the divine oracles taught, I became satisfied that those who were then called Universalists had founded their doctrine on wrong principles, as well as other denominations. The doctrine of man's native depravity, of original sin, of the deserts of eternal misery, of the vicarious sufferings of Christ, by which he endured, in man's stead, the divine penalty of God's law, whereby man could escape the punishment due to his sins, was believed by those who called themselves Universalists, as well as by Calvinists: also, the doctrine of the Trinity, holding that Christ is equal to God, or, in other words, is God, being the second person in the holy Trinity. All these notions, as it appeared to me, were essential errors, constituting a mass of confusion. I soon renounced all these views, and preached only God, and one mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus. All my brethren in the ministry, and all our friends, stood on the old platform, and I found that I had to contend with Universalists as well as with partialists. But I went to my work in earnest, laboring, with all my skill and with all my limited talents, to convince my brethren in the ministry, and all who heard me preach, that the doctrines of the Trinity, of depravity, of eternal penalty, etc., were neither the doctrines of the Scriptures nor of reason. The opposition to my sentiments fast gave way among Universalists, though even among them I met with as bitter opposition, in some instances, as from other denominations. The first time I preached in Bro. Murray's church, in Boston, was during his absence in Philadelphia, and I then came out fully with my Unitarian views, which produced great disturbance. Some were violent in their opposition, while others, and not a few, fell in with my manner of explaining the Scriptures. I was then twenty-eight years of age."
Mr. Ballou says that his declaring his views on this occasion was the cause of "great disturbance." This disturbance was so earnest that some few of the audience, more bitter than the rest, rose in their seats and declared that the sentiments which had been uttered were not in accordance with Mr. Murray's views, etc. Whereupon Mr. Ballou simply informed them that he had been invited, without solicitation on his own part, to preach in that desk; that he came there to preach no one's convictions but his own; that he never had consulted, and never should consult, the taste of his audience as to the doctrine he preached to them; but that he should proclaim the truth, as, by the help of Heaven, he had been enabled to learn it from the Bible, and the truth only!
On the subsequent day Mr. Ballou was formally waited upon by a committee from the Society, who thanked him for the discourse, and a majority coincided also in his peculiar views.
The conclusions as to doctrine at which he arrived were based upon severe study and profound reflection; and when we consider the age at which he had elaborated and enunciated a creed of such vast importance, a creed so entirely in advance of his contemporaries, we cannot fail to be most forcibly impressed with the extraordinary originality and remarkable precocity of his intellect. Such early vigor and maturity would have been astonishing in one who had enjoyed all the advantages of early training, all the aids afforded by the best theological institutions and instructors; but in one who had passed through so many hardships, overcome so many difficulties, and was so emphatically self-taught and self-made, they can only be regarded as evidences of the highest genius, and the immediate favorable interposition of Divine Providence.
His unshaken faith and inflexibility of conviction are evinced by the fact that he stood firm, not only against the opposing sects, but against the disciples of the improved doctrine which he first preached. It requires not a little energy to confront declared foes; but to contend with friends, to risk the loss of their favor and support, is a trial which few have the boldness to sustain. But the subject of this biography knew not what temporizing meant; his whole life, his whole intellect, all his energies, were devoted to the discovery of truth, and the enunciation of the truth he discovered. Had he stood entirely alone, without one single friend, without one single proselyte, he would have spoken as he did, boldly, earnestly, candidly, the apostle and defender of his faith. The inspiration of his mission was from on high; neither applause nor opposition changed his views, or in the least affected his serene and constant