Fortunately, this despondency in time gave way to a natural buoyancy of his disposition; some evidences of kindly feeling from those around him, tended a good deal to mitigate his recklessness; and especially as the term of his apprenticeship drew toward a close, his former aspirations and hopes began to return to him. Working with renewed diligence at his craft, he, at the end of six years, came under the notice of Mr. William Cookesley, and, struck with his talents, this benevolent person resolved on rescuing him from obscurity. “The plan,” says Gifford, “that occurred to him was naturally that which had so often suggested itself to me. There were indeed several obstacles to be overcome. My handwriting was bad, and my language very incorrect; but nothing could slacken the zeal of his excellent man. He procured a few of my poor attempts at rhyme, dispersed them among his friends and acquaintance, and when my name was become somewhat familiar to them, set on foot a subscription for my relief. I still preserve the original paper; its title was not very magnificent, though it exceeded the most sanguine wishes of my heart. It ran thus: ‘A subscription for purchasing the remainder of the time of William Gifford, and for enabling him to improve himself in writing and English grammar.’ Few contributed more than five shillings, and none went beyond ten and sixpence; enough, however, was collected to free me from my apprenticeship, and to maintain me for a few months, during which I assiduously attended the Rev. Thomas Smerdon.”
Pleased with the advances he made in this short period, it was agreed to maintain him at school for an entire year. “Such liberality,” says Gifford, “was not lost upon me: I grew anxious to make the best return in my power, and I redoubled my diligence. Now that I am sunk into indolence, I look back with some degree of skepticism to the exertions of that period.” In two years and two months from what he calls the day of his emancipation, he was pronounced by his master to be fit for the university; and a small office having been obtained for him, by Mr. Cookesley’s exertions, at Oxford, he was entered of Exeter college, that gentleman undertaking to provide the additional means necessary to enable him to live till he should take his degree. Mr. Gifford’s first patron died before his protegé had time to fulfil the good man’s fond anticipations of his future celebrity; but he afterward found, in Lord Grosvenor, another much more able, though it was impossible that any could have shown more zeal, to advance his interests.
Gifford was now on the way to fame, and he may be said to have ever afterward enjoyed a prosperous career. On the commencement of the “Quarterly Review,” in 1809, he was appointed editor of that periodical, and under his management it attained a distinguished success. After a useful literary career, Mr. Gifford died in London on the 31st of December, 1826, in the seventy-first year of his age. Reversing the Latin proverb, it might be justly observed, that in him a shoemaker happily went beyond his last.
NOAH WORCESTER, D. D.
Noah Worcester was born in 1758 at Hollis, New Hampshire, where some of his ancestors had been ministers; but his father was a farmer. In early life he received very little education, and the greater part of his time was consumed working as a laborer in the fields. He afterward became a soldier; but, horrified with the vices of that profession, and the slaughter which he saw take place at Bunker’s hill, he abandoned it for ever, and betook himself to farming. He now commenced a course of self-instruction; and to lose no time while so engaged, he employed himself in shoemaking. His diligence was unrelaxing. At the end of his bench lay his books, pens, ink, and paper; and to these he made frequent application. In this way he acquired much useful learning; and a pamphlet which he wrote had the effect of recommending him to a body of ministers, by whom he was advanced to the clerical profession.
In a short time an opening occurred for a preacher, in a small town in the neighborhood, and to this he was promoted by universal consent; yet, in a worldly sense, it was a poor promotion. His salary scantily supported life, being only two hundred dollars, and as many could ill afford to pay their proportion of even that small sum, he was accustomed, as the time of collecting it drew nigh, to relinquish his claims, by giving to the poorer among them receipts in full. The relief granted in this way sometimes amounted to a fourth, or even a third part of his salary. He was thus made to continue still dependent for his support in a great measure on the labor of his hands, partly on the farm, and partly in making shoes. But he was far from fancying this scantiness of pay and necessity of toil, any exemption from his obligation to do the utmost for his people. On the contrary, he was ready to engage in extra labor for them; and when it happened, for example, as it sometimes did, that the provision for a winter school failed, he threw open the doors of his own house, invited the children into his study, and gave them his time and care as assiduously as if he had been their regularly-appointed teacher.
His short experience of soldiering, gave him, as has been said, a horror of war, and against this scourge he preached with untiring zeal. In 1814, he gave vent to his whole soul, in a remarkable tract, “A Solemn Review of the Custom of War,” one of the most successful and efficient pamphlets of any period. It has been translated into many languages, and circulated extensively through the world. It is one of the chief instruments by which the opinions of society have been affected within the present century. The season of its publication was favorable; the world was wearied with battles, and longed for rest. “Such was the impression made by this work,” says Dr. Channing, “that a new association, called the ‘Peace Society of Massachusetts,’ was instituted in this place [Brighton, Massachusetts, whither he had removed in 1813]. I well recollect the day of its formation in yonder house, then the parsonage of this parish; and if there was a happy man that day on earth, it was the founder of this institution. This society gave birth to all the kindred ones in this country, and its influence was felt abroad.” He conducted its periodical, which was commenced in 1819, and was published quarterly for ten years. It was almost entirely written by himself, and is remarkable not only for its beautiful moral tone, but for fertility of resource and ingenuity of illustration. He wished it to be inscribed on his tombstone: “He wrote the Friend of Peace.” Eight years after he began to write the “Solemn Review,” he declares his belief that the subject of war had not been absent from his mind, when awake, an hour at a time, during that whole period. This concentration of all the powers of an earnest and vigorous mind, enabled him to produce a greater effect than perhaps any other individual. Dr. Worcester died in 1837, in the seventy-ninth year of his age. Of character Dr. Channing thus speaks:—
“Two views of him particularly impressed me. The first was the unity, the harmony of his character. He had no jarring elements. His whole nature had been blended and melted into one strong, serene love. His mission was to preach peace, and he preached it, not on set occasions, or by separate efforts, but in his whole life.... And this serenity was not the result of torpor or tameness, for his whole life was a conflict with what he deemed error. He made no compromise with the world; and yet he loved it as deeply and as constantly as if it had responded in shouts to all his views and feelings.
“The next great impression which I received from him was that of the sufficiency of the mind to its own happiness, or of its independence on outward things.” Notwithstanding his poverty and infirmities, “he spoke of his old age as among the happiest portions, if not the very happiest, of his life. In conversation, his religion manifested itself more in gratitude than any other form.” His voice was cheerful, his look serene, and he devoted himself to his studies with youthful earnestness. “On leaving his house, and turning my face toward this city, I have said to myself, how much richer is this poor man than the richest who dwell yonder! I have been ashamed of my own dependence on outward good. I am always happy to express my obligations to the benefactors of my mind; and I owe it to Dr. Worcester to say, that my acquaintance with him gave me clearer comprehension of the spirit of Christ and of the dignity of a man.”