COMMENCES TO PREACH.
While Mr. Ballou was yet but twenty years of age, he made one or two
unsuccessful attempts to preach a regular discourse. That is, he
delivered sermons once or twice at the period referred to, before small
assemblies of his personal friends and relations. But so far from
satisfying himself in relation to his ability for public speaking, he
was quite disheartened by the result that attended these his first
efforts. Yet, by the constant solicitations of those who were curious to
hear him discourse upon the topic of his peculiar views, he continued to
speak, despite of the advice of his immediate friends and relations,
until he not only soon satisfied himself as to his abilities, but also
received the cordial approval of a large number of those who would, at
the outset, have discouraged him entirely.
In relation to this period of his life, Mr. Ballou gives us his own
words, and to the point. But the reader will please to mark that when he
speaks at this period of Universalists, he refers to those who thus
called themselves, but who would, in these days, be more properly
denominated Restorationists. The correctness of this statement will at
once be seen from the fact of his saying that he met John Murray, etc.,
at the first _Universalist_ convention which he ever attended, while
those who are acquainted with that honored teacher's tenets of faith are
aware, as we have already stated in these pages, that he lived and died
solemnly believing in a state of future suffering or punishment; and
more latterly during his life he sustained many controversies with Mr.
Ballou on this very subject.
"In September of the year preceding my beginning to preach," says Mr.
Ballou, "I went to Oxford with my brother David, to attend the first
Universalist convention I had ever met with. Here I saw John Murray for
the first time, and George Richards, and some other public preachers.
The next summer after I was twenty years old, I labored with my brother
on his farm, and late in the fall made my first attempt to preach. This
was on an evening, and at the house of Deacon Thayer, in Richmond. Mr.
Thayer had been a deacon in the Baptist church, but had become a
Universalist, and still retained his office with the last-named
denomination. My brother and Rev. Caleb Rich were present to hear my
first attempt to preach; and, according to what I could learn, they had
their doubts whether I had a talent for such labor, but were not without
some hope. The second time I attempted to preach was in the town of
Brattleboro', Vt., where my brother preached in the daytime, and I
undertook to speak in the evening, being overpersuaded to do so; but
this attempt was a failure, and I was greatly mortified, and thought,
for a time, that I would not engage in a work for which I was not
competent. However, it was not long before I became encouraged to try
again, after which I met with no remarkable failure to produce
discouragement."
The comparative failure of Mr. Ballou's earliest attempts at public
speaking, although soon afterwards followed by complete success, is not
at all surprising. It is exceedingly rare to find the first efforts of
orators satisfactory to themselves and to their friends. The first
attempt of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the most brilliant orator of his
time,--if, perhaps, we except Burke, who was, however, more
distinguished by the eloquence of his diction,--was a complete and
decided failure. But, knowing himself, he declared emphatically that "it
was in him, and must come out." When General, then Colonel, Washington
rose to respond to a complimentary address of the legislature of his
native colony, he found it impossible to express himself; and the first
efforts of the illustrious and lamented Henry Clay gave no promise of
his future eminence. It would be easy to multiply illustrations of the
fact that it is only step by step that fame and honor are attained. No
one springs at a bound to the summit of his reputation and usefulness.
It is only shallow pretenders who sometimes shine with a false lustre
at the outset of their career, soon to sink into utter insignificance.
But the true man, the man of sterling genius and worth, conscious of a
high mission, and confiding in Providence for the energy and inspiration
necessary to fulfil it, is not daunted with the obstacles that present
themselves at the outset of his career. They are regarded as trials and
tests as to his adaptedness to the purpose for which he is created. From
every rebuff he acquires new strength; he puts forth redoubled energy,
until at last he triumphs over every impediment, and stands forth in the
full energy of his being.
Had not Mr. Ballou been prompted by such a spirit as this, had he not
been possessed of an extraordinary vigor of character, for which he was
ever remarkable, he would hardly have persevered in his attempts to
preach under these discouraging circumstances. It will be remembered
that he did not sit down and compose a discourse which he afterwards
read to his audience; this is comparatively an easy task. He spoke
extemporaneously then, as he ever did afterwards. In subsequent years he
was frequently called upon for manuscript copies of his discourses for
publication. But the sermons were not written until after they had been
delivered; and it was not his practice to put on paper even the heads of
his discourse to take into the desk with him for reference in delivery.
Trusting entirely to his powerfully retentive memory, the arrangement of
his sermons was as methodical and correct as though penned in the
seclusion of his study. We have heard some persons, more nice than
wise, speak of his extemporaneous delivery as an objection, and find
fault because he did not write his discourses, and thus deliver them
from his notes in the pulpit. We have a word to say in relation to this
subject, since it has been thus referred to.
To speak extempore and at the same time to speak well and to the
purpose, to arrange certain points and arguments mentally with nice
precision, so as to deliver them with fluency and effect, must require a
strong and healthy intellect, a powerful and original mind. But a man
with an ordinary degree of mental cultivation, who cannot write a
discourse and read it afterward, must be singularly deficient in his
intellectual capacity. It is impossible for an audience to feel so deep
an interest in the service as that which is felt in listening to the
spontaneous outbreakings of a warm and ardent mind while it is engaged
upon the holy theme. The speaker must invariably grow enthusiastic in so
glorious a cause as he advocates, and his audience necessarily partake
of his feelings. But when there is any particular degree of spirit or
animation evinced by one who is reading his discourse _verbatim et
literatim_, it is of necessity a preconcerted exhibition, and as such
must fail of its effect with the majority. It may be said that no man
can lay out so well his matter, nor give so good and sound an argument,
spontaneously, as when he commits his ideas to paper. This, as a general
thing, must be conceded, for there are comparatively few intellects
sufficiently powerful to adopt the opposite course.
The advantages of extemporaneous speaking are doubtless many. It enables
the individual to place himself in closer contact with the feelings of
his audience, giving him the power to take advantage of any bright
thought that unexpected impulse may impart. An experienced commander
arranges the general plan of an engagement before going into battle, but
he can do no more, for circumstances must guide him in the conflict. He
must improve the opportunity to throw forward his forces just at the
right moment, not too soon nor too late, as such an indiscretion might
change the fortunes of the day, and lose the battle to him who would
else have won it. So with the preacher; he must watch the inner man of
his hearers, and, as he gains ground in the heart, follow up his
influence by well-sustained argument, and strengthen his position by
proper means made available at the appropriate moment,--neither too
lightly nor yet with too much force, but be guided safely by the
strength of the position he already holds in the minds of his audience.
Such things cannot be correctly anticipated, and laid down beforehand,
by comma and period, in the study. Mr. Ballou's arguments were arranged
with the utmost precision, his reasoning followed in the most logical
array, and all the while he was talking to the people in the most
unconcerned and familiar manner, as though each respective member of his
congregation was sitting by his own fireside and the preacher had
happened in. This is the mode of preaching which is effectual, and all
the flowers of rhetoric may seek in vain to attain a like influence
over the hearts and sympathies of an auditory. The latter mode of
preaching may please, but the former will convince; the first will make
worshippers, the last admirers. Thinks the reader that the simple
fishermen of Galilee--yet the chosen of God--sought by the vain and
gaudy ornaments of elegant delivery and studied eloquence to please the
people? No! They preached the holy word in all meekness, striving to
exalt not themselves, but rather the name of him who had sent them.
Mr. Ballou says, relative to the period when he commenced to
preach:--"Mr. Logan, the preceptor, gave me a certificate when I left
the Chesterfield Academy, which was sufficient to enable me to get a
school in Bellingham, Mass. Here I taught school during the other days
of the week, and preached on the Sabbath. When I first engaged in
preaching, it was not with the most distant expectation that I should
support myself by the ministry; but I thought I could keep school some,
and labor some with my hands, and live with but a little income. From
Bellingham I went to the town of Foster, R. I., where my father formerly
lived, and there my father taught a large school and had good
compensation; and here also on the Sabbath I preached in the
school-house where I taught. From this place I went to Scituate, in R.
I., where I preached and taught school. My meetings grew very large, and
I was called on to go to different places,--to Smithfield, Providence,
Pawtucket, etc. After I had spent about two years in keeping school and
preaching, I found that I had used up all my earnings, had laid up
nothing, except that I had more costly clothing than when I first began.
And now, at the age of twenty-four, I was so much called on to preach
that I gave up keeping school, and devoted my time to the ministry,
receiving now and then some compensation for my services."
Mr. Ballou's life as a public minister may be said to have commenced at
the age of twenty. From that time, as it became known that he preached
the doctrine which was deemed by nearly all to be such a heresy, there
were numerous invitations, as he shows us above, pouring in upon him
from all quarters, to come and address the people concerning the faith
he had espoused. His labors were by no means confined to Rhode Island,
but he preached in the neighborhood of Richmond, and in various parts of
Vermont and Massachusetts, improving every moment of leisure time in the
most careful study of the Scriptures. He no longer preached on the
Sabbath only, but also on nearly every consecutive evening of the week.
It was easy to gather an audience, anxious and ready to listen to the
new and most happy doctrine that the preacher taught, and even at this
early period of his ministerial career he began to address those
spontaneous mass assemblies that in after years always gathered from all
directions to listen to him whenever he appeared. Entirely forgetting
himself, and with but one great object in view, that of preaching God's
impartial grace, and of convincing all who would listen to him of the
glorious truths of Universalism, he counted not the hours of mental
labor which now increased upon him, but labored hard and willingly with
his hands to clothe himself, receiving but a mere trifle for his
professional labors. Pay, at this period, he never demanded, and very
rarely expected; he was fully contented with the inward recompense which
he realized.
"At this period of my life," says Mr. Ballou, "my health was very
indifferent. I had most of the time a severe pain in the pit of my
stomach, and my appetite was far from being good, and so debilitated was
I in strength that I have even been obliged to sit while I preached. It
became necessary for me to procure a vehicle to journey in, being too
weak to ride on horseback; however, by care and good advice, I gradually
recruited. My travelling for that period was extensive, from Cape Ann
east, to the Connecticut River west, to Richmond north, and New London
and Hartford south. All my Sabbaths were employed, and many lectures
were attended during each week. I preached in meeting-houses when they
could be obtained, sometimes in school-houses, sometimes in barns, and
not very seldom in groves and orchards, and often in private houses.
"To the people, the doctrine I preached was new, and the opposition
lacked not for bitterness; and such was my condition that I was
constantly in conflict, and never allowed to put off my armor to rest,
day or night. All manner of evil reports concerning me were invented,
and the worst of slander circulated, all tending to make me regardless
of what my enemies said. My answer to all this slander was, while they
speak thus falsely of me, I am in no danger; if I am injured I shall do
that myself."
Theology was a subject of most sombre hue at this period in New England.
Calvinism had twined its choking fibres so closely about the sacred
tree, that its branches drooped, and its leaves withered in the sunshine
of truth. The doctrines taught from the pulpit, while they were listened
to as a duty, were yet repulsive to the heart of the hearer, and
abhorrent to his very soul. The principle of divine love was clouded
wholly from sight by the dark mass of murky error that enshrouded all
scripture teachings. The duties of man to his Maker and to himself were
held forth under fearful threats, as a penalty for disobedience, but the
idea that in the performance of our duty real happiness is alone to be
found, while sin most surely brings its own punishment, was never
publicly advanced. Sinfulness, aside from the liabilities of eternity,
was not held up to be avoided, but rather acknowledged to be pleasant
and desirable, while those who trod the paths of righteousness were
taught to consider themselves as self-sacrificing martyrs, and told to
look for their reward in eternity. It was these obvious inconsistencies
that at first challenged the attention of the subject of this memoir.
And when he stood up and boldly exposed these palpable errors, when he
preached _love_ while others preached _wrath_ to the people, it is not
singular that those who were so diametrically opposed to him in faith
should be ready to believe and propagate any stories that might reflect
upon his character, and thus detract from his influence as exercised
upon those who so eagerly listened to him, and in whose hearts, in the
very nature of things, he was sure of an answering and approving
sentiment.
It is a matter of regret that Mr. Ballou has left no record of his
journeyings and labors during this important period of his clerical
career, as such a narrative would have been most deeply interesting to
his family and friends. The amount of labor he performed must have been
prodigious, and fully accounts for the enfeebled bodily condition to
which he alludes. Every fibre of his intellectual frame must have been
constantly in a state of extreme tension; for his was not the easy task
of preaching on the Sabbath a written discourse which he had taken a
whole week to prepare, but, as we have said, he was called upon almost
daily to address large audiences and promiscuous assemblies. Nor was his
the pleasant duty of the navigator who follows the course of the stream
and the tide. He was a pioneer; he preached a new doctrine; and, as he
says, "the opposition lacked not for bitterness." It is not surely an
exaggeration to declare that Universalism in those days was popularly
regarded with as much hostility as Infidelity itself is now. Hence, in
addition to the severe fatigue of travel, the necessity of finding
constantly new arguments and new illustrations, to sway the minds of
constantly changing auditors, he had to battle valiantly, like a soldier
of Christ, against the most vigorous and determined opposition.
In this condition, how mentally and physically trying must have been his
incessant labors in his Master's vineyard! Neither by night nor by day
could he for a moment lay aside his armor. Standing alone, there was no
respite to his exertions. Later in life he beheld a host of able
followers ready to relieve him of a portion of his duties. His doctrine
was no longer the theme of obloquy and outrage. He outlived calumny and
detraction. But it will be seen that even in extreme old age he did not
spare himself; he did not suffer sloth to creep upon his spirit, nor
rust to gather on his armor. He was still the favored champion of his
cause, and ever ready to minister to the spiritual wants of his brethren
in the faith.
With the close of his itinerant labors, we now come to another important
and interesting epoch in his life.