Although descended from a devout and eloquent preacher of the Scriptures, the reader will at once observe that Mr. Ballou was not indebted in the least particular for the future lustre of his reputation as a powerful and original thinker, writer and teacher of the gospel, to his birth, or early condition in life, but that, on the contrary, he was literally a self-made man, owing his position strictly to individual merit alone. Enjoying none of the educational advantages resulting from wealth, or even from a simple competency, yet he steadily rose above every impending obstacle in his path, to the truly enviable position which he attained in the hearts of thousands upon thousands who were led through his teachings, both orally and through the productions of his prolific pen, to see their God and Father as he is in all harmony and beauty. Thus it is that poverty of condition and wealth of intellect go often hand in hand.
"Where, in modern history," asks Rev. A. E. Abbott, in his late eulogy upon Mr. Ballou, "can another instance be found of a man laboring under such disadvantages, in the face of such opposition, and yet performing such a work? Those who have heretofore accomplished much in that field, have had all the advantages which the most thorough culture of their times could give. Like the giant of Gath, they have taken the field encased in polished armor; he, like the stripling of Bethlehem, came to the contest with only the shepherd's sling and the smooth stones from the brook."
As no general rule can be adduced for the formation of human character, so long as the power of early association, the influence of education and example, each and severally produce in different individuals exactly opposite effects, so no general rule can be applied as to the result of certain accessory circumstances. Therefore we deduce no result from the mere fact of Mr. Ballou's father having been a professed minister upon the character of his son, having no belief that genius is hereditary, or that paternal authority can influence its natural course. Indeed, the reader is doubtless well aware that the opposition of a father to the natural bent of his child, rarely fails more strongly to develop the original taste and purpose, generally arousing in the end a spirit of resistance, that is pretty sure to strengthen by opposition.
Before the age of sixteen, by the utmost perseverance, ingenuity, and industry, the subject of this biography had learned to read and write with facility, almost entirely by his own unaided exertions, or with little assistance of any kind; for had there been a school in the neighborhood of Richmond, which was not the case, he could have found no time to attend it, being ever laboriously engaged from morning until night. He learned to form the letters of the alphabet in the following ingenious and original manner, which he related to us when a mere child, we were making the first advances in the use of the pen. After not a little thought and sober calculation as to how he should accomplish his purpose, – for pen, ink and paper were luxuries his father's means could not command, – for paper he substituted thin pieces of birch bark, neatly prepared for the purpose by his own hands, and for pen and ink he used coals taken from the fire. With these rude materials, after the labors of the day were over, seated on the floor, by the light of the fire, – for candles were too expensive to be afforded in the frugal household of his father, – he taught himself to write. A student, actuated by such resolution and determination of purpose, must soon become a proficient, in defiance of every minor obstacle; and thus he speedily improved with these humble means.
Some further idea of the limited means of his father's family, and the extraordinary disadvantages under which his early progress was made, may be gathered from the fact, that the only books the house contained, or in fact that the family had access to at all, were a Bible, an old dictionary, and a well-thumbed pamphlet of the scriptural story of the tower of Babel. A newspaper in the days of which we write, in the town of Richmond, would have been considered a most rare curiosity. Perhaps this very dearth of literary material led Mr. Ballou to be the more intimate with that volume with which alone no student can be poor, without which the largest library is incomplete. It has been remarked of the sacred volume, that, as the face of nature is bedecked with colors and adornments to render it agreeable to the senses, so its pages are filled with that luxury of poetry and language and incident which commends it to every imagination. Even the half-unbelieving Byron confessed that nothing in literature was finer than the poetry of the Old Testament. Thus the word, like the bow of promise, is gilded with the fairest hues. The solemn march of historical narration, the sublime hymns of triumph, praise and rejoicing, the records of battles and heroic deeds, the familiar narrative, the interesting parable, the pithy proverb, the terse and vigorous delineation of character, the sublime visions of inspired prophecy, are all there. Of almost every style of literary composition there is an example, captivating alike to the humblest reader and the most cultivated critic. It is the beginning and the end of learning. In the midst of the sublimest flights of human genius, amid the most burning words of modern eloquence, introduce a passage of scripture, and how poor will seem the language and the thoughts by which it is surrounded!
"Within whose sacred pages lies
The mystery of mysteries,"
Need we count that house poor in literary possessions which contains a Bible?
If it be true that there are certain ennobling qualities, to produce which a soil of privation and poverty is requisite, the reader is doubtless already prepared to allow that Mr. Ballou was not deficient in the necessary experience for their possession. A lack of those advantages which are enjoyed in the "schools of human learning" did not lead him in the least to undervalue the humble opportunities for acquiring mental discipline and useful information that every-day life graciously affords to all. But the clear, free river of knowledge and unbounded information, that now pours out its wealth at the feet of the people, was then undiscovered. It has been left to these more modern and favored times for inventions in the arts to so revolutionize the means of disseminating knowledge, as to lay the wealth of wisdom at the poor man's door.
At the age of sixteen he left the paternal roof for the first time, and made a journey on foot to Guildford, Vt., a distance of about forty miles from Richmond. Here he visited an elder brother, and, after working with him upon his farm through the season, returned to his father's house again in the fall. About one year from the time of his visit to Guildford, he visited another brother who resided in Putney, Vt., where he also labored for a season upon the farm, employing all his leisure moments to the improvement of such simple means as were within his power to command, aided by the greater experience and better mental cultivation of his brother. He remained through that season only at Putney, however, and returned again in the fall of the year to Richmond.
At the age of eighteen he went to Smithfield, R. I., where many of his relations, on the paternal side, were settled. Here also he devoted himself to constant labor during the day, and to the eager perusal of any and all books to which he could obtain access, during the evenings and a large portion of the nights. He remained in Smithfield but about six months, again returning to the place of his nativity. In making these changes he was almost solely actuated by a desire for instruction and general information, and this being his great aim, we have seen how much he improved every available means to consummate it, and thus his exploring and impressible mind was not a little enriched. The time passed at home during the intermediate and subsequent periods to those referred to, was employed by him upon his father's farm, in the tilling of the soil, and in constant efforts to improve his mind. Those who were older than himself were earnestly questioned for their experience. Those who had enjoyed any educational advantages were eagerly sought after, and regarded by him as favored beings, and their conversation listened to with avidity.
The improvement and development of a mind in this condition, a healthy mind in a healthy body, is exceedingly rapid. It is then
"Wax to receive, and marble to retain."
It seizes eagerly on all the food placed before it, and rapidly digests every acquisition. The condition of a mind with every appliance for improvement at hand, is not unlike that of a person with every variety and quality of food set before him for the gratification of a bodily appetite. Repletion, satiety, and indigestion, follow in one case precisely as in the other. Many of our modern students are crammed and gorged with study. The mental appetite is over-indulged; and an attempt to master too much is doubtless the besetting literary sin of the present day. The cases of mental dyspepsia are as common as those of the body. Sound scholarship consists