QheUire of 
 
 CHAUNCEY 
 GILES 
 
 Ediied hy 
 
 Carrie Giles Carter 
 
 ■>■■
 
 - ', 
 
 1 
 
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 THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 CHAUNGEY GILES
 
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 JHE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 AS TOLD IN HIS DIARY AND 
 CORRESPONDENCE . 
 
 Compiled and Edited by his Daughter 
 CARRIE GILES CARTER 
 
 The steps of a pood man are ordered 
 by the Lord: and he delightcth in his 
 way. 
 
 Though he fall he shall not be utterly 
 cast down : for the Lord upholdeth 
 him with his hand. 
 
 Psalm 37: 23, 2!i 
 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS NEW-CIIURCH UMON 
 
 1 34 Bowuoi.N Street 
 
 1920 
 
 rA^
 
 THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 T 
 
 i HE one essential to the achievement of success in the workmanship 
 of this biography to which the editor can lay claim is her deep affec- 
 tion for its subject. 
 
 Experiences and materials gradually came into her life, and at length 
 germinated in the determination to bring a knowledge of her father's 
 character as clearly as possible before those who already know him, 
 and to others who know him not. 
 
 Friends both at home and abroad have been very helpful in lending 
 letters which diey have cherished for years. Those who could furnish 
 information have done so with a kindness that is much appreciated; 
 others whose advice has been sought in times of indecision, have given 
 it with a cordial sympathy which was in itself very inspiring. 
 
 Mr. Giles's diary and letters are in themselves a fairly complete 
 biography. 
 
 Gleanings from the " Giles Memorial " and the " Groton-Avery 
 Clan," in addition to information from older relatives, have furnished 
 the genealogical data. 
 
 For the portions relating to Church History, " Tlie Early History of 
 the New Church in the Western States and Canada," by Rev. G. M. 
 Field; Rev. B. F. Barrett's "Autobiography"; Odhner's "Annals of 
 the New Church"; Hindmarsh's "Rise and Progress of the New Jeru- 
 salem Church in England, America and Other Parts"; the "Outline 
 History of the New Jerusalem Church of Cincinnati": a similar brief 
 history of llie New York Society; Convention Journals, and numer- 
 ous articles in the New Church Messenger have contributed valuable 
 material. 
 
 From the Rev. William L. Worcester's " Biographical Sketch "" die 
 editor has also drawn for items not obtainable elsewhere. 
 
 F'or each and ever)' one of these helps the deepest gratitude is felt, 
 and it is with heartfelt pleasure diat the thanks due to all are given. 
 
 Carrie Giles Carter.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter ■ Page 
 
 I Ancestry and Early Life 1 
 
 II Wanderings Through New York and Pennsylvania 24 
 
 III Life at Hamilton 60 
 
 IV Lebanon and Yellow Springs 83 
 
 V POMEROY Ill 
 
 VI New Church in the Middle West 141 
 
 VII Cincinnati Pastorate, 1852-1862 156 
 
 VIII Cincinnati Pastorate, 1862-1864 195 
 
 IX The New York Society — Introductory 217 
 
 X New York Pastorate, 1864-1870 224 
 
 XI New York Pastorate, 1870-1874 240 
 
 XII New York Pastorate, 1875-1877 256 
 
 XIII Philadelphia: an Introductory Chapter .... 289 
 
 XIV Philadelphia Pastorate, 1878-August, 1879 . . . 293 
 XV Philadelphia Pastorate, August, 1879-September, 
 
 1880 323 
 
 XVI Philadelphia Pastor.4TE, 1881-1886 344 
 
 XVII Philadelphia Pastor.\te, 1887-1889 380 
 
 XVIII Philadelphia Pastorate, 1890-1891 416 
 
 XIX Philadelphia Pastorate, 1892-1893 444 
 
 XX Comments of Contemporaries 462 
 
 XXI Contributions to New Church Literature .... 468
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Chauncey Giles Frontispiece 
 
 Facing page 
 
 Birthplace in East Charlemont, Mass 3 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Giles about 1842 64 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Giles about 1857 166 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Giles about 1873 247 
 
 Church of the New Jerusalem, Philadelphia 344 
 
 The Study at 3502 Hamilton St., Philadelphia 348 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Giles about 1883 352
 
 c 
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 Ancestry and Early Life 
 
 HAUNCEY Giles was the eldest son of John and Almira Avery Giles. 
 He was born in East Charlemont, Massachusetts, on May 11, 1813. 
 
 Holmes has said, " To know one's character truly, one must know 
 his ancestry for two hundred years." It is not difficult in the case of 
 Chauncey Giles to leani of his forbears for diat period, but as the 
 records are simply the dry statistics of genealogy one does not gain 
 from them a deep insight into family characteristics. 
 
 Edward Giles of Salem was tlie founder of the family in this country. 
 He received land given as one of the Grants at Large to one hundred 
 or more of the original settlers of Salem. He was a member of the 
 First Church, diat interesting little structure which the Essex Institute 
 has preserved in the rear of Newman Hall; and was admitted a free- 
 man of the Colony in 1634. The very name of Puritan indicates a 
 deeply religious spirit, but on neither parent's side is there in tlie direct 
 line for more than one hundred years a single clergyman in the family. 
 
 As was natural to dwellers near the coast many of the Giles family 
 were seafaring men; many of them served in the Revolution. There 
 was a Giles who crossed the Delaware with Washington, who was pres- 
 ent at the surrender of Burgoyne, and wiio endured the terrible winter 
 at Valley Forge. His brother was eidier in the military or naval service 
 until the close of the war. Tlie father of these brothers fought in the 
 French and Indian War. He was at the battle of Bunker Hill, and 
 died suddenly from exhaustion the day after, while trying on some 
 new clothes in a tailor's shop. 
 
 There was another Giles who suffered numerous hardships by land 
 and sea in both the military and naval service of his country. This 
 Giles, after surviving all the |)erils of war, was accidentally drowned 
 in his own well. He was on board the Alliance when that ship brought 
 the Treaty of Peace to the United States after the Revolution.
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 There was a Giles in the artillery company which at Bunker Hill 
 brought away the only field piece which was saved out of six taken to 
 the battle ground. 
 
 But not all the Gileses were thus warlike. The record of the years 
 is of a plain people, industrious, engaged in various trades; brick 
 manufacturers, carpenters, cabinetmakers, sailmakers, coopers, sea- 
 men, some of tliem captains of tlieir own vessels, farmers, etc., none of 
 them with money-making ability. Frequent mention is made of their 
 piety, but no clergyman appears until tlie sixth generation, though 
 several members married daughters of clergymen. One of the Giles 
 family was an early cotton spinner of this country. He invented the 
 circular saw, imaware of the fact that some one in England had fore- 
 stalled him by six or seven years. They were respected members of 
 the community and, judging from old letters handed down, were people 
 of culture and refinement. 
 
 There is a coat-of-arms in the possession of some of the descendants 
 which was brought over by the emigrant ancestor. Its chief value to 
 members of the family is its indication that the English forbears were 
 of good standing in the mother country. 
 
 Of the Averys, the maternal line, there are many records of patriotic 
 service. An irreverent descendant once observed, "" If all accounts 
 were true, the Averys were either very great men or great liars in the 
 old days." The emigrant ancestor is Christopher Avery, who with his 
 son James came to this country when well advanced in years, about 
 1632. He lived for a time in Boston, but later moved to New London, 
 Connecticut. In all the early history of New London the son, Captain 
 James Avery, figures most conspicuously both in civil and military 
 affairs. He was not only a noted Indian fighter but had great influence 
 with the friendly Indians. He was second in command to Captain John 
 Winthrop; prominent also in civil affairs, he was one of the judges of 
 the County Court, a selectman for twenty-three years, and founder of 
 the First Church of New London. In 1636 he built the homestead 
 known as the " Hive of the Averys." For more than two hundred years, 
 until it was destroyed by fire, this house was occupied by an Avery. 
 Upon its site is erected by the Avery Memorial Association a granite 
 shaft surmounted by a bronze bust of the foimder of the family. He is 
 represented as a typical Puritan. 
 
 James, the son of the founder, followed in his father's footsteps both 
 in civil and military affairs. He had twelve children, and at his death 
 there were sixty-five of his descendants who attended his funeral. 
 
 -'^ 2 ^~
 
 p^' 
 
 
 I'.lltTllFLACE OF CHAINCEY GILES IN 
 
 EAST <:ii \i; i.KMoN r. mass. 
 
 Harnr oi bis ^r<inill(tthfr. jmiiilhim Avery
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 Numerous Averys were actively engaged in the Revolutionary War; 
 many fell in the massacre of Fort Griswold, and it was to the house of 
 an Avery that the wounded were taken after the hattle. One who served 
 in the navy was captured and forced to serve on a British man-of-war. 
 He with others petitioned to be placed in a prison ship, preferring con- 
 finement to forced service against his country. There was a Colonel 
 Avery who fought a duel with Andrew Jackson. Jackson fired first and 
 missed. The Colonel fired in the air and then shook hands with his 
 erstwhile foe. 
 
 The records give many tales of heroic devotion to their country. 
 One Avery was branded with hot wires and his wife threatened with 
 death when they refused to tell where money for the Continental Army 
 was hidden. They suffered, too, as did many of our forefathers, from 
 the Indians. The son of Oliver Avery, who in 1780 built a house which 
 is still standing in Charlemont, Massachusetts, had a son carried to 
 Canada by the Indians. His wife and baby girl hid in a hollow log 
 and so escaped. 
 
 My father's grandfather, Jonatlian Avery, joined the Revolutionary 
 Army as a minuteman, and served in the war until he was made lame 
 as the result of a bullet wound in the leg. He was not only a brave 
 soldier but a man of quick wit and ready humor. He was an orderly 
 sergeant. At the battle of Long Island he was detailed for difficult and 
 dangerous scout duty, with the command of a small company of men. 
 Like many another soldier of the Revolution he had become ragged in 
 the service. His captain, a very pious man, had given him a pair of his 
 old trousers. Wlien Jonathan saw that his men demurred at the dangers 
 before them he said, " Come on. Boys! Just think of the prayers which 
 have been offered up in these old trousers." The laugh that followed 
 gave tlie men new courage and the difficult undertaking was success- 
 fully accomplished. 
 
 About ten years after the close of the war Jonathan moved with his 
 wife and seven children from Enfield, Connecticut, to East Charlemont, 
 Massachusetts. His wife, Pamelia Fox, was of Tory stock, and for 
 many years her father opposed her marriage to the patriot soldier 
 Jonathan. When he did yield, he did so gracefully, as he afterwards 
 built for diem a fine Colonial house in East Charlemont, their home for 
 many years. Here Jonathan pursued his trade of hatter, and here his 
 wife, of stern Puritanical character, reared her large family (four were 
 added to the flock at Charlemont) in the rigidly pious observances of 
 the day. 
 
 -<i 3 )§.•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Jonatliaii died at the good old age of ninety-two of no disease. He 
 simply fell asleep to wake on earth no more, as he sat in his chair. 
 His wife survived him six years. 
 
 Four generations of the Giles family lived in Salem; Edward of the 
 fifth generation settled in Medford. Meeting with business reverses he 
 removed lo Providence. He afterwards went to Windsor, Connecticut, 
 and at lengdi found his way to Cliarlemont and settled tliere. He had 
 six children: four daughters and two sons, — John, who settled in Con- 
 necticut, and Edward, wlio lived in Charlemont. Poverty seems to 
 have been the lot of the Giles family, and that of Edward was no excep- 
 tion. An interesting story illustrative of the customs of the day is told 
 of him in this connection. There lived in this vicinity a Tory clergyman 
 who, as was usual in these times, received at least a portion of his 
 salary by levying contributions on the members of his congregation. 
 Edward Giles had no money to meet the parson's demands and frankly 
 said he was too poor to contribute. " No matter for the money, I can 
 take your cow," said the minister. " But I need the cow to furnish 
 milk for my large family." "That's of no consequence," said the 
 parson; "if worse comes to worst you can call on the town for help." 
 This was cold comfort for Mr. Giles, but he was obliged to submit. 
 Not long afterwards he was driving along by the Deerfield River, which 
 was then much swollen with recent rains. As he approached the ford 
 he descried a man and horse floundering about in the water. "Help! 
 Help! " cried the man. " Who are you? " asked Mr. Giles. " Parson 
 Leavitt," was the reply. " You better call on the town for help," said 
 Mr. Giles as he drove away, leaving the poor man to struggle out as 
 best he could. The clergyman gained the shore and lived for many 
 years an object of dislike to all who knew him. So obnoxious did he 
 become to the community that at length they actually changed the 
 boimdary line of their township so that the parson's house would come 
 in the neighboring village of Heath. 
 
 From old family letters I gather that this Edward Giles commanded 
 the love and respect of his children. They wrote to him frequently, a 
 daughter Margaret oftener than the others. These letters, written one 
 hmidred years ago, are simple homely chronicles of a New England 
 woman of "faculty" who earned her living by going from house to 
 house spinning and weaving, as she was needed. Interspersed with the 
 daily events were pious remarks which give one a whiff of die religious 
 atmosphere breatlied by the common people of the day. 
 
 Here is an extract from a letterwritten after thedeath of a little brother:
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 Permit me, my aged Father, to address you on this all-important 
 subject. Has not God called upon you and me twice and thrice, yea, 
 not only so, but thrice in die most solemn manner, by taking the nearest 
 and dearest friends from us? " Be ye also ready: for in such an hour 
 as ye think not, the Son of man cometh," and yet ye are in the way of 
 sinners is the record of one of old. Oh, how it becomes us who have 
 named the name of Christ to live as becometh the disciples of the 
 meek and lowly Jesus! Oh, what would I give if I might recall the 
 time that I have spent pursuing the vanities of this transitory world! 
 Tongue cannot express nor my poor pen describe the feeling of my 
 heart on account of my backslidden state. 
 
 The Lord is pouring out His spirit here in some measure. We 
 humbly hope and trust there have been three converted Backsliders 
 returning. 
 
 From Hartford she writes, December 21, 1818, on resuming her pen 
 after an illness of tliree months : 
 
 I sometimes feel as though my lot were hard, but when I take a 
 view of the goodness of God and what He has suffered for guilty 
 man, and the mercies I am surrounded with, I know that I have the 
 greatest reason to Bless Him from whence these Blessings flow. This 
 life is short and attended witli ten thousand pains and troubles and 
 as many mercies. But oh, how apt we are to complain! I feel like 
 a poor unworthy Creature not deserving the least mercy or favor from 
 God. Death, that great tyrant, is calling one after another and we 
 are going off the stage as fast as Time can carry us, and it \vill be 
 soon said of us that we are no more; but if we come to the grave like 
 a shock of com that is fully ripe, it will be a happy exchange. I hope 
 these unconnected lines will find you and yours in the enjoyment of 
 every blessing, that your souls and bodies are devoted to God, for this 
 is our reasonable service. 
 
 Edward Giles had a brother John who moved to Sharon, Connecticut. 
 His life lliere was one of poverty, illness, and hardship. 
 
 Here are portions of two letters from Susannah and Mary, both sis- 
 ters of Edward, to their brother John : 
 
 -4 5 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 It appears to me that time is short and eternal things lie with 
 weight on my mind. Do let us give all diligence to make our calling 
 and election sure. The promises of God of late have been made 
 precious to my soul. 
 
 On September 1, 1812, Mary writes: 
 
 Dear Mother is yet alive and the disappointment of your not coming 
 is beyond description. . . . You ought to know her situation and 
 try to comfort her in this hour of distress and not to let anything but 
 ill health hinder your coming. No tongue can describe the distress of 
 body and mind she has gone through, but sometimes she calls upon her 
 soul and every creature to praise God. One time when she viewed 
 herself upon the verge of eternity she charged me to enjoin it upon 
 you and your wife, if you had not made your peace with God through 
 Christ not to put it off until a dying bed. I believe she will arrive safe 
 at the mansions of Eternal Rest whenever God is pleased to take her 
 away. Dear Brother and Sister, may we follow her as far as she fol- 
 lowed Christ is the prayer of your affectionate sister, 
 
 Mary Nash. 
 
 If you come do bring some Rice, there is none to be had about here. 
 
 John Giles, a son of Edward, and the fadier of Chauncey, was a man 
 of brilliant parts, but lacking in the ability to make his mental equip- 
 ments IcU in the achievement of material success. In the days of the 
 old Latin grammar he memorized that book with all its rules, cases, and 
 conjugations in seven days. He studied medicine, but because of ill 
 health and other reasons never practised. He taught in tlie little country 
 schoolhouse for many years. When he first assumed his duties he 
 said: 
 
 Pope says, "Order is Heaven's first law," and order I mean to 
 maintain in this school. 
 
 He was a man who was extremely sensitive to ridicule, and while 
 conscious of his really fine mental abilities was cruelly alive to his 
 failure to make them of practical use. The following letter, written 
 
 -4. 6 ^'-
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 a few months after his marriage to Almira Avery, shows all these char- 
 acteristics. He had gone to New York to try to establish a successful 
 school. The letter gives his unfortunate experiences. 
 
 Sunday Morning, New York, November 19, 1812. 
 Dear Father: 
 
 Ere you receive this your wandering son will be, if nothing happens 
 more than he now knows of, more than three hundred miles from New 
 York. You probably desire to know the cause of this sudden change. 
 
 When I arrived here I imagined, and so did James, that there was 
 a good chance for me to obtain twenty-five dollars per month clear of 
 expenses. Upon the prospect of that, I purchased the furniture of 
 a schoolroom at twenty-five dollars, hired at fifty dollars per annum 
 and bought wood and every other article necessary to begin business. 
 I have now been here fourteen days upon the expense of nearly six 
 dollars per week and have obtained only two scholars at the small 
 rate of two dollars per quarter. This would not, even if I had a large 
 school, support me. It is here as it is in the coimtry witli regard to 
 teachers; one there, you know, who only asks eight dollars is employed 
 in preference to one who asks and will earn twenty dollars per month. 
 
 To stay here at the expense of fifty dollars, to wait a favorable 
 chance to get into business, is in my opinion inadvisable. The uncer- 
 tainty attending it would be great, and even if I were sure of a good 
 start it would take me three months and more to be as well off as I 
 was when I came here. Having naturally considered all these disad- 
 vantages, I have concluded to go to Utica. 
 
 Elias Joiner is now in New York and has been for a week past. I 
 have seen him and conversed with him. He says there is a good chance 
 for me there. He has risen from the very gulf of poverty to a hand- 
 some living. Perhaps I might do the same if it were not for the ill 
 fortune which you know is a constant attendant upon our family. 
 
 Shakespeare says: 
 
 There is a tide in the affairs of men 
 
 Which taken al the flood, leads on to fortune; 
 
 Omitted, all the voya{.'e of their life 
 
 Is bound in shallows and in miseries. 
 
 -••§(7)5..-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Whether I have taken the tide at the ebb or flood remains yet in the 
 womb of futurity. Now, like a dying sinner, I am convinced when too 
 late diat it would have been better for my purse to have stayed at 
 Heath. But it is too late to return. It would certainly be saying I 
 could not live in any other part of the world than Charlemont. I be- 
 lieve I can, therefore I have no idea of returning until I know for a 
 certainty that I cannot. Can I bear their ridicule? If I can, I will not. 
 
 My health for a week past has been very poor, so that I was but just 
 able to keep about, but got bled, since when I am much belter. 
 
 It is with regret that I inform you of my unhappy fortune, but never 
 mind, it may be better; if it is not we know how to bear it with that 
 dignity and fortitude which becomes us as men. 
 
 An old proverb says, " It is never darker than just before day," but 
 perhaps I am not within ten years of broad daylight. Whether I am 
 or not I shall not trouble myself about it, or not but little. You will, 
 I hope, keep this letter a secret " lest the wicked rejoice and the daugh- 
 ters of the uncircumcised triumph." 
 
 Let no one know where I am or what I am about, nor that 1 have 
 left New York. When I arrive at Utica or any other place where 
 I find business I will write again. Give my love to all inquiring friends. 
 
 With sentiments of respect and esteem, I remain your dutiful and 
 affectionate son 
 
 John Giles. 
 
 N. B. I shall leave this place for Albany on my way to Utica, 
 to-morrow. 
 
 The whole mission was evidently unsuccessful, for John returned to 
 Charlemont to his young wife, and for some time they lived with her 
 father's family. 
 
 Of the youth of Almira Avery I know but little. At the time of her 
 wedding she and her bridegroom were considered the handsomest 
 couple in Franklin County. The rearing of a large family with the 
 struggle against poverty must have filled her life with the constant 
 necessity for fortitude. She was of a very affectionate disposition, and 
 the mental and executive ability of many of her children testify to a 
 good home training. In her old age she lived with one of her married 
 
 -4 8 >'-
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 daughters in Decatur, Illinois. Her grandchildren evidently loved 
 and admired her, and always spoke of her remarkable efficiency and 
 industry even when she was far advanced in years. She died in May, 
 1884, at the age of ninety-two, from the effects of a fall which broke 
 her hip. 
 
 That there were gleams of sunshine through the atmosphere of Puri- 
 tanical gloom breathed by my father in his boyhood is told in his own 
 words in a lecture delivered February 26, 1886, on "The Good Old 
 Times in New England." As it gives a vivid picture of the life of the 
 day and will help us with the foregoing letters to understand the sur- 
 roundings of his early life, I quote it with but few omissions. 
 
 The old times! The good old times, when all the boys were good, 
 except the bad ones, when all the girls were beautiful except the homely 
 ones, when all the old people were saints except the sinners. Then 
 they had baked beans and pumpkin pie every Sunday, and bread and 
 milk for supper every day in the week, if there were nothing better. 
 The good old times! when the boys after working aU day had the fun 
 of roaming over the hills to find the cows; when the good girls knit 
 stockings for themselves and their brothers, and learned embroidery 
 by darning the holes in the heels and toes; when the young ladies 
 amused themselves by spinning wool, and making butter and cheese. 
 They helped their mothers wash clothes and dishes, they compounded 
 johnny-cake and doughnuts and made themselves useful and lovely 
 in many ways. 
 
 Then the young men chopped wood, planted and dug potatoes, 
 washed sheep, made cider, mowed and plowed, and dug in the hard 
 soil of New England. 
 
 In these good old times the boys and girls, the young and the old, 
 rested every Sabbath, which commenced at sundown Saturday night. 
 The chores were all done, the hoe and axe and spinning wheel put away 
 in their places. The bright smiles and the naughty jokes were laid 
 aside until Monday and the solemn Sabbath look and the quiet Sab- 
 bath tone took their places. 
 
 After a bath in a wooden pail or a tin wash basin, both young and 
 old, weary with six days' labor, retired and began the Sabbath rest. 
 
 In the morning, after the necessary daily " chores," the family pre-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 pared for " meelin'." Faces shone with soap and water and the rough 
 hair was made smooth with tallow. The shoes were greased and the 
 best Sunday clothes were donned. These clothes were usually made 
 by their motlicr or a useful aunt, who always cut them large enough 
 to fit, especially the trousers. 
 
 After breakfast the whole family set out for the meeting house, a 
 bamlike structure standing on the top of a hill. The rich people 
 brought out the old horse which had been plowing all the week, and 
 harnessed him to the wagon which had done service in carrying corn 
 and rye to the gristmill, or i)otatoes to the cellar. It was soon loaded 
 with old and young dressed in their bravest. 
 
 How sanctimonious and saintly the father and mother were! How 
 angelic the girls! The poor and the boys had to walk. They (the boys, 
 I mean) whiled away the time in telling about the woodchuck they had 
 caught or the nuts they had gathered, as they shied a stone at a chip- 
 munk with a jolly laugh at the hit or miss — if no wagon were in sight. 
 
 Then came the meeting: the piping choir (organs and wicked stringed 
 instruments were not known among the hills in those days), the long 
 prayer in which every one was remembered, followed by a hymn and 
 a longer sermon. 
 
 When the service was ended, did we go home? Oh, no! We brought 
 our lunch with us. In pleasant summer weather the boys went out 
 and sat under the trees. When it rained we went into the horse sheds, 
 climbed into the wagons, and ate our doughnuts, mince pie, and apples, 
 and told stories. The older ones sat quietly in their pews, and re- 
 freshed themselves with news and lunch. In half an hour or so, all 
 gathered for Sunday School or prayer meeting. 
 
 When that was over did they return to their homes? How absurd 
 the question! 
 
 Another service was held. Again there were long prayers and a 
 sermon to match. Then the wagons were backed out from tlie sheds 
 and came rumbling to the door, and with their solemn load the horses 
 quickened their homeward jjace. The boys trudged back on foot, oc- 
 casionally stealing a ride by hanging on behind some wagon. 
 
 On Sunday all had time for quiet and reflection. It was wicked 
 
 -4. 10 ^'-
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 to take a walk unless one went after the cows. This the boys were 
 quite willing to do an hour before the time. There were no books to 
 read but the Bible, Pilgrim's Progress, and Baxter's Saints' Rest, and 
 the little saints had had rest enough for one day without going to 
 Baxter for more. 
 
 Boys and girls who laughed were on the road to the bad place. 
 They watched the slow descending sun and sighed and wondered what 
 made it hang so long in the sky. 
 
 When it ceased to gild the tops of the eastern hills, they rose like a 
 compressed rubber ball. The Sabbath, the day of rest and refreshment, 
 was over. Light broke over the solemn faces, the children began to 
 romp, mothers or sisters brought out their knitting or sewing, the 
 neighboring boys collected and in the summer played '"Hunt the grey 
 fox," or coasted if there were snow. So passed and ended the holyday. 
 
 But the recreations and amusements of the good old times are my 
 special theme and I must not let the Sabbath day's rest interfere with 
 it. There are, however, great difficulties in describing them, one of 
 which is, there were none according to modem ideas. 
 
 There was neither theatre nor opera. The whole community would 
 have been filled with holy horror at the idea of going to such wicked 
 places. There was some amusement in the singing-school, especially 
 when the place of meeting was remote from the homes and the snow 
 lay deep in the roads. The gayest plow-horse was harnessed to the 
 old sleigh, which was filled with stalwart young men and lovely young 
 women. You have no idea how lovely they were in the eyes of the 
 young plowmen and wood-choppers. They were tenderly covered with 
 blankets and buffalo robes to protect them from the biting winter air. 
 The old horse knew that this was no Sunday business, or common affair 
 of taking grist to the mill. He entered into the spirit of tlie occasion 
 and took his precious load swiftly over the creaking snow. An occa- 
 sional plunge into a hollow or an overturn into a snowdrift caused no 
 serious harm. It was rather a source of merriment which gave the 
 young men an opportunity to show their gallantry and the young 
 women graciously to receive it. 
 
 Safely gathered in meeting house or hall, much learned instruction 
 
 - -Hi! Ills*--
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 was given about whole and half notes, quavers, and semi- and demi- 
 quavers. There was a short practice of do, re, me, fa, and then came 
 the real work. Old Hundred was attacked with vigor and confidence 
 for more than the hundredth time, and its amazing difTiculties were 
 soon overcome. Then came Dundee, and Mear, and other soul-stirring 
 tunes. After a satisfactory disposal of long, common, and short-metre 
 tunes some simple anthem might be tried. If there was not much music 
 in their voices, there was plenty in their hearts. The ride home was 
 the culmination of tlie happy event. To tlie music of the jingling sleigh 
 bells were added strains of some solemn psalm tune or a snatch of 
 song that was not exactly sacred, with a merry laugh at some incident 
 in the singing or mutual glances between basso and soprano; glances 
 prophetic of future harmonies not contained in the psalmody. How 
 brightly the moon shone! How the cheeks of the girls' fair faces 
 glowed under the keen breath of the frost ! Such a return with pleasant 
 memories in their hearts and rosy fancies of what might be in the 
 future was almost as romantic and charming as a ride home in the 
 city, hanging on a strap in a crowded street car. 
 
 There were no concerts except at rare intervals at the close of the 
 singing school. There were no picture galleries to visit, no tempting 
 shop windows. When the girls went to the store they carried the 
 palm-leaf hats they had braided, or the buttons they had covered, and 
 exchanged them for more material for hats and buttons, taking the 
 difference in sugar, or calico for a new dress, with a bit of bright 
 ribbon to glorify it. 
 
 There were no magazines to beguile the weary hours with story or 
 song, no novels to absorb tlie attention and transform the hard and un- 
 attractive real into the lovely scenes and grand achievements of the 
 ideal. There were no daily papers or any periodical literature except 
 a small weekly paper which was taken by only a few people. There 
 was notliing adapted to children and yoimg people. There were no 
 picnics, no excursions, no lectures to amuse and instruct. Dancing 
 was generally regarded as sinful. There might be a ball given once 
 a year at some tavern. Here the unconverted would gather from far 
 and near and to the music of one fiddle would dance tlie Virginia 
 
 -4 12 }•>-
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 Reel and other country dances with zeal and energy if not with grace. 
 This was a memorable event in the year's history, which required great 
 preparation and much discussion. It supplied the rustic beaux and 
 belles widi an interesting theme of conversation for months afterwards. 
 By common sentiment cards were sternly forbidden. Young men who 
 would indulge in such dreadful wickedness were on the broad way 
 that led to gambling and eternal fire. There were but few quiet, house- 
 hold games. Fox and Geese, and checkers were the most common, and 
 were regarded as an innocent way of wasting time. Indeed, life was too 
 stem and solemn a matter to be trifled away in mere amusement. 
 Religious meetings and work — hard, constant work — were regarded 
 as the only objects worth living for. 
 
 Still, boys were boys and girls were girls in those days as in mod- 
 em times. There was about as much unregenerate human nature in 
 them as now, and they contrived to draw much amusement from most 
 impromising conditions. 
 
 In tlie autumn there were numerous apple-paring bees, wlien the 
 young people met to pare and core apples for the winter's apple-sauce, 
 and string the quarters to be afterwards hung up and dried for the sea- 
 son's use. It was long before machines were invented for this purpose. 
 The fragrant apples, red, green, and golden, were brought forward in 
 great baskets. The case knives were well sharpened for the occasion. 
 Every girl was provided with a large bowl. The boys were content to 
 help or hinder from the same dish and the girls were content to have 
 them. The apples whirled under their nimble fingers, leaving their 
 red, green, or yellow coats behind them. They were soon quartered 
 and divested of their seeds and cores and placed in a common re- 
 ceptacle. From this they were taken by others and strung upon long 
 stout threads. 
 
 Wliile this work was going briskly on the tongues of the happy 
 helpers were as nimble as their fingers. Bright jests and quick rep- 
 artee flew from lip to lip and the room echoed with innocent laughter. 
 Sometimes when the apple paring was long and unbroken it would be 
 whirled three times round the head and flung upon the floor. It was 
 then supposed to show the initial of the favored lass or lover. 
 
 -4, 13 }§<"-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 So the work and the joy went on together until the baskets were 
 emptied. 
 
 Then came the refreshments, which were always bountifully pro- 
 vided: mince, apple, and pumpkin pies with snowy crust, cheese as 
 soft and rich as pure milk can produce, nuts, and some choice variety 
 of apples; cider, tart, spicy, and delicious. Crisp doughnuts and raisin 
 cake, good enough to satisfy the most fastidious, were not wanting. 
 
 Then followed the return home. As they wended their ways by 
 winding road and dusky lane, the girls were protected by strong hands 
 and doughty hearts from the wild beasts which had long been exter- 
 minated; from wandering tramps who had not then sprung into ex- 
 istence, and from the shadows which might be anything their lively 
 fancies could imagine. Through all these dangers they safely passed, 
 with the pleasing consciousness of having helped a neighbor and en- 
 joyed an evening of innocent pleasure. 
 
 There was another gathering of frequent occurrence in which work, 
 play, and social intercourse were combined. In that cold and inhos- 
 pitable climate the water would freeze in the bedroom, and a moist 
 hand would stick to the iron handle of a doorlatch. Feather beds and 
 abundant covering were necessary. Bedquilts were in requisition and 
 quilting them was a slow and tedious process. So the neighbors were 
 invited to help, and quilting parties became an important feature in 
 the social life of the people. 
 
 The joined patchwork was stretched upon a frame. Around its four 
 sides were seated as many ladies as could work conveniently. They 
 sewed diligently, making diamonds or other figures. The quilters 
 sat face to face, and their tongues were free while their hands were 
 occupied. It is reported — falsely, no doubt, for were not our mothers 
 and grandmothers perfect women? but there is a tradition which, like 
 many myths, has passed into history — that instead of confining them- 
 selves to the high themes of philosophy or religion, they discussed the 
 affairs of the neighborhood and retailed a large amount of gossip; 
 what Mrs. A. said and Miss B. did, who were sick and who were well, 
 who were engaged to be married, etc. The minister received a large 
 share of both praise and blame. It was unanimously agreed that his 
 
 -^ 14 ^'-
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 last sermon was very severe and just on some persons who were not 
 at the quilting, and it was hoped they would profit by it. 
 
 But wliiio the neighbors were busy with tongues and needles, there 
 was another party in the kitchen preparing delicacies and substanlials 
 for the exhausted gossips when they should have finished their quilt and 
 settled the affairs of the neighborhood. 
 
 The men, young and old, especially the young, were expected to 
 assist in this part of the performance, and they did it with right good 
 will. 
 
 There were no hired caterers; no menial foreigners ruled in the 
 kitchen. Cooking was an accomplishment, and it was as much the 
 glorj' of a young woman to compound savory dishes and cook them to 
 perfection as it is now to drum on the piano and paint porcelain. 
 
 But we are delaying the supper. It is sufficient to say that it was 
 duly appreciated and enlivened with bright and merry thoughts. There 
 was not much of the elegance of the dancing master or the grace of 
 boarding-school manners. But there were native wit and kind and 
 generous feeling. There was an unconscious grace which came from 
 association with nature. Sometimes there was a beauty born of inno- 
 cence and a quiet dignity that even when dressed in homespun com- 
 manded respect. 
 
 There were but few holidays. The two which stand out most dis- 
 tinctly in my mind were the General Muster and Thanksgiving Day. 
 
 The General Muster was the gathering of all the men of a county 
 who were liable to military duty, for the inspection of their uniforms 
 and implements of warfare. 
 
 It was a general holiday. For weeks before the eventful day tlie 
 subject was the theme of conversation by young and old, male and 
 female. The men brought out their uniforms from the chests in which 
 tliey had reposed for a year, and brushed them. The old flintlock 
 musket was taken down from the hooks upon which it had quietly re- 
 mained. It was burnished, a new flint was inserted in tlie lock, and the 
 whole weapon made ready for its deadly use. The horses were taken 
 from the cart and plow, covered with military trappings, and as much 
 martial spirit was infused into their weary limbs as possible. Those 
 
 -<i 15 ]s--
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 who were exempt from military duty volunteered as a commissariat. 
 They thus hoped to serve their country while at the same time they 
 turned an honest penny. 
 
 A vast array of cakes and other toothsome edibles was prepared. 
 There were barrels of cider, flanked sometimes with fire water in the 
 form of cider brandy. There were also booths for the sale of a great 
 variety of articles for ornament and use. 
 
 I shall never forget how, on one of these occasions, a boy resisted 
 the solid enchantments of gingerbread and the attractions of delicious 
 cider and spent his money for a copy of Cowper's Poems and of Mil- 
 ton's Paradise Lost. It was a Paradise Found for him, and he spent 
 many a long winter's evening reading them over and over again by the 
 bright firelight. He revelled in Cowper's Task, which was no task to 
 him, and with Milton he fought the battle of the angels and mourned 
 over the fall of man. 
 
 When the eventful day arrived all the roads leading to the place 
 of meeting were crowded with men, women, and children, in wagons, 
 on horseback, and afoot, wending their way to the long expected 
 entertairmient. 
 
 The companies of soldiers in gay uniforms were arranged in long 
 lines, their muskets shining in the sun. The officers, with brilliant 
 epaulets and majestic hats, were rushing madly over the parade ground 
 delivering orders. The artillery and cavalry had taken positions and 
 were going through their evolutions. The drums were rolling and the 
 fifes screaming. They filled the air with martial music and the souls 
 of the boys with martial fire. The scene was flanked with crowds of 
 spectators: young men with their sweethearts, and boys with their 
 mouths and pockets full of gingerbread and molasses candy who rushed 
 from point to point as the soldiers changed their positions. 
 
 When the inspection of arms and accoutrements was ended and the 
 rank and file had gone through various evolutions they were arranged 
 in battle array. From the long lines of infantry, placed at a safe dis- 
 tance from each other, belched forth fire and smoke, stunning the ear 
 with the rattle and roar of their fusillade. The cavalry spurred their 
 steeds into furious speed, and with drawn sabres rushed wildly around 
 
 -'<{ 16 }•>-
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 in search of an enemy. The artillery thundered at some imaginary 
 foe, advanced, retreated, and blazed away, aiming now high, now low. 
 
 The stentorian voice of some general could occasionally be heard 
 above the smoke and din of battle. So the conflict went on until ammu- 
 nition and strengtli were exhausted. It was sufficiently realistic to stir 
 the blood of the young lads who had never met any fiercer enemies 
 than hawks and woodchucks, yet sufficiently safe to quiet the fears of 
 timid maidens. 
 
 The day was a memorable one in the monotonous life of a rural 
 people. 
 
 A few weeks later came the crowning glory of the year, — the grand 
 feast of Thanksgiving, when men, women, and children were expected 
 to demonstrate their gratitude for past favors and abundance by stuff- 
 ing themselves to repletion. 
 
 The preparations for this grand feast were made days and weeks 
 before its advent and devolved chiefly upon the women. The finest 
 turkeys and tenderest chickens were selected and specially fattened for 
 the occasion. Mince, apple, custard, and pumpkin pies were provided 
 in sufficient abundance to last many weeks. There were delicious 
 jellies and marmalades and quince and apple sauce by the barrel. The 
 choicest cuts of beef and pork had been selected and kept. There were 
 no markets and groceries near at hand from which the essentials for 
 such a grand occasion could be supplied at a moment's notice. It 
 required forethought and good management to secure the needed sup- 
 plies. Boys and girls were asked to pare apples and pumpkins, to 
 chop mincemeat for tlie pies, to provide wood for the fires, and to run 
 on errands. The house was fragrant with the odor of cloves, cinnamon, 
 and other spices. Mother and daughters moved briskly about in their 
 white aprons with their sleeves rolled above their elbows, or stood 
 seriously considering the composition of a pudding or a sauce. The 
 brick oven was kept in a state of fervent heat, and when the precious 
 pies and puddings were entrusted to its fiery bosom, its contents were 
 carefully watched and turned about to insure a perfect baking. 
 
 The morning of the day itself was devoted to worship. From all 
 points among die hills the people in tlicir best attire with reverent faces
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 could be seen wending tlieir way to the meetinghouse. The service was 
 short, and it would be but natural if the thoughts of many a good house- 
 wife should wander away from the sermon and the prayer with some 
 concern lest the turkey which was roasting on a spit before tlie fire 
 should not be constantly turned and so be burnt on one side and raw 
 on the other. But the fears were generally groundless, for every one 
 had a personal interest in the excellence of the result. 
 
 But we have kept you too long from the dinner. Everything is ready, 
 and we will sit down at the table which is loaded with the rich bounties 
 of the year. The white-haired and venerable grandparents have the 
 place of honor. The children with their husbands and wives and their 
 children, sometimes to the fourth generation, were arranged according 
 to age or convenience. Thanks are rendered to the bountiful Giver, 
 and every one is urged to do justice to the feast. The careworn faces 
 are wreathed with smiles, and bits of the past year's history are served 
 with the viands. Anecdotes and humorous incidents are related and 
 bright thoughts fly from lip to lip. The affections are called into active 
 play, and tliere is a reunion of hearts, a feast of the soul as well as of 
 the body. 
 
 After every want is more than satisfied, the remnants of the feast are 
 cleared away and the young ones engage in the simple games of the 
 time. 
 
 Sometimes, if they were not too pious or rigidly orthodox, there 
 would be a dance. I have seen a boy dance in the same set with his 
 grandparents, his father, mother, uncles, aunts, and cousins. 
 
 Due respect is paid to the aged, confidences are made, advice given 
 and received, and the hearts of all are knit more firmly together and 
 cheered and strengthened for the coming duties and struggles of life. 
 
 In the good old times there were but few of the conveniences for 
 travel and interchange of thought and life which we now enjoy. The 
 people worked hard and lived simply. Every child was brought up to 
 some useful work. A holiday was a great event. It stood out as dis- 
 tinctly from the common routine of life as a mountain from a great 
 plain. 
 
 But they were good times in many essentials. The people were 
 
 -4 18 ^•-
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 industrious, frugal, and in the most important affairs of life they were 
 intelligent. If they did not read as much as we do, they thought the 
 more. They did not depend much upon others to do their thinking; 
 they were more self-reliant. 
 
 Their manners were frank and their ways direct. Their means of 
 social culture were simple, but they made the best use of those they 
 possessed. If they endured many hardships, they acquired strength 
 by them. So in the struggle for life they gained many of its blessings 
 and learned how to appreciate them. The children were obedient and 
 respectful. The minister and doctor were regarded with awe and rev- 
 erenced as superior beings. I well remember how we used to stand 
 by the side of the road when we saw them coming, and with bared heads 
 make a profound bow as they passed. Our children have learned 
 that professional men are made of common clay. Perhaps we have 
 not improved in our want of respect and reverence for age and worth. 
 
 Such were the ordinary habits of the rural New Englander of that 
 day. My father's lot was no exception. From early boyhood his life 
 was one of toil, and he began when but a child to add by his labors to 
 the family income. "Doing chores" for the neighbors, work in his 
 grandfather's brickyard, chopping wood, haying, etc., — all these at 
 one time or another formed a part of his regular life. 
 
 The first slate he ever had was obtained with the money earned by 
 chopping a cord of wood. Previous to this, under his father's tuition, 
 he had with a piece of charcoal done his arithmetic on the hearth be- 
 fore the fire. Soon after obtaining his first knife he lost it on the 
 road. Nothing daunted, he dug for half a mile until he found it. 
 
 Milton's Paradise Lost and Cowper's Task were treasures pur- 
 chased at General Muster. It is hard for us with our many books and 
 magazines to realize the deep influence which such books, read and 
 pondered over and over, exert upon one whose sole treasures they are. 
 
 Another incident of his boyhood to which father often referred in 
 after life as an instance of the Lord's leading ihrough apparent trifles 
 is the following: He was sitting out of doors on a fallen log studying 
 his geography lesson. Tennessee was the subject. Something in the 
 name or in the description of the slate appealed to his childish imagina- 
 tion, and he then and there resolved at some future time to visit it. 
 As a matter of fact he never did, but in his many wanderings after 
 
 -•4 19 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 he left college there was always the thought underneath of reaching 
 Tennessee. Each step he took in this direction led to some experi- 
 ence which paved the way for the great blessings of his life, — his 
 wife, and llie New Church. 
 
 Even when a little boy he wished to become a minister, and delighted 
 as a child to read from a large Bible; the story of Joseph arranged for 
 children had a special charm. By diligence and making the most of 
 every opportunity he managed not only to attend the Mt. Anthony 
 Academy at Bennington, Vermont, but also to enter Williams College. 
 
 At the former place his Greek teacher stimulated his love of learn- 
 ing and taught him hoiv to study, an invaluable lesson, of which he 
 often spoke with gratitude. 
 
 Once when at home for vacation his father asked him what he in- 
 tended to do when he left tlie Academy, at the same time indicating that 
 he would like to have him study law. " If I do," said Chauncey, " it 
 must be the law of God." 
 
 It is said of him as a young man that " when he was engaged in study 
 he was oblivious of everything about him." 
 
 His classmates speak of him as " more than an average scholar, not 
 brilliant, perhaps, but studious, accurate, and prompt. He was a good 
 declaimer and in the debating society was alert and one of the best 
 speakers. He was strong on temperance and on the antislavery question, 
 which was much discussed in those days. In manner he was rather re- 
 tiring, somewhat shy, friendly with all, but familiar with only a few." 
 
 The students were fond of debating and reciting poetry. They used 
 to try to deepen their tones in speaking, and Father thought he really 
 effected a change in the quality of his voice by this practice. 
 
 One day in a debate the young student uttered the sentiment, " Gold 
 is but dust, and avarice the serpent which eats it." The young men 
 were deeply impressed and tried in vain to guess the author. Wlien 
 they found it was not a quotation but original with Mr. Giles, there were 
 many prophecies of his future greatness. 
 
 On one occasion one of his classmates, a tall rather awkward young 
 fellow, began to recite Addison's Evening Hymn: 
 
 Soon as the evening shades prevail. 
 
 The moon takes up her wondrous tale . . . 
 
 As he declaimed the second line his long arms reached down and spread 
 forth his coat tails as an appropriate (?) gesture. It is needless to say 
 he was not allowed to proceed. 
 
 -*•{ 20 ^~
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 Of his life at Williams College I know but little. He was obliged 
 to pay for his tuition by tutoring, haying, or any other work he could 
 find. An aunt of his told me the following amusing story: 
 
 Once at haying time one of the farmers of the place needed extra 
 help. Father applied for a job. His student life did not give him the 
 appearance of any ability in outdoor work, so the farmer said to him, 
 " You do not look as if you could mow." " Try me and see," said 
 Father. Years after, when he returned to Williamstown to receive an 
 honorary degree, he went to the house of tliis same farmer, who still 
 lived in the old place. Ringing the doorbell he was met by the old 
 gentleman himself. " I came to see if you wanted any extra hands 
 with your hay." " Yes, I do, but you don't look as if you could mow." 
 "So you told me more than forty years ago," said Father. "Giles! " 
 exclaimed die farmer, clasping his hand with pleasure. 
 
 To the visitor who goes to Williamstown now and sees the many fine 
 buildings, the beautiful church, the gymnasium, the library, the fine 
 dormitories for the students, etc., the college of my father's day would 
 present a severe contrast. He entered college in 1832 at the age of 
 nineteen. 
 
 Of the period ten years earlier than this, Mark Hopkins, for many 
 years president of the College, writes: 
 
 In 1822 but one of the fourteen college buildings on the ground was 
 standing. That was the old West College. In 1823 the college owned 
 but two houses: die president's house, that stood on the north side of die 
 main street, since moved, and a small house that stood where the chapel 
 now stands. It owned no land except about three acres connected with 
 the then president's house. 
 
 The rooms of the students were plainly and scantily furnished. 
 There was not a carpet in eidier building. Partly because the rooms 
 contained little that was valuable, and partly because of the greater 
 honesty of those times, nobody thought of locking his door when he 
 went out. Prayers and recitations were before breakfast in die morn- 
 ing, and in the winter by candlelight. Commencement was in Septem- 
 ber, and so the town was a resort for the students in the summer, and 
 not for summer visitors, a species of human genus not then developed. 
 The long vacation of six weeks was in winter, so that the students, who 
 were mostly needy, might aid themselves by teaching. Coming after 
 
 -4 21 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 the summer work of the farmers was finished. Commencement was a 
 great day for the whole >-icinity. The procession with its band of 
 music was formed at East College, and passed through the lower hall 
 of West College to the church on the hill. It was long, the struggle to 
 enter the church after the procession was in was fierce, and the church 
 was crowded. Back of the church a multitude was gathered about 
 numerous peddlers and there were all sorts of shows. 
 
 The grounds about the buildings were rough and uncared for. The 
 students burnt only wood, and during the autumn and winter there 
 were numerous woodpiles in the college yards. These the students 
 usually sawed and carried up for themselves. In the spring they had 
 a chip-day to clear away the chips and rubbish. The walk between the 
 West College and the church was innocent of gravel, and as the mud 
 was fearful the students had each year, in the autumn, a gravel-day. 
 Those who did not choose to work paid a fine that went to procure 
 teams. The soil was of clay and in the spring would undulate as you 
 walked. Year by year the gravel would disappear, and it is only 
 within a few years that the walks have become thoroughly compact. 
 There were then no trees about the buildings. These were set out by 
 the students, for while there was oftener than at the present time an 
 outbreak of the spirit of vandalism, there was yet a large element of 
 loyalty to the College and of desire for its improvement. 
 
 It was a feature of that day that water for the students was brought 
 in pails from a spring at the foot of the hill south of East College, they 
 generally bringing it themselves. 
 
 Such a thing as a gymnasium had not been thought of. There were 
 then no secret societies. The only one known in any of the colleges was 
 the Phi Beta Kappa. There were no college publications, and there 
 was no baseball as that is now knowTi. A form of baseball was some- 
 times played, but the common games were wicket and two-old-cat. 
 
 In his Junior year came one of the most crushing disappointments 
 of Mr. Giles's life, ill health, which necessitated his leaving college. 
 
 Trouble with his eyes, brought on by over-study, and with his head, 
 as a result, perhaps, of getting overheated in the hayfield, made it 
 impossible for him to continue his studies. He never entirely recov-
 
 ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE 
 
 ered from the trouble with his head. Besides severe pain, he heard 
 constantly a roaring or buzzing at the base of the brain. This con- 
 tinued with more or less rigor all his life, but much work was accom- 
 plished in spite of it. 
 
 For a time after leaving college Mr. Giles taught in the Academy 
 at Bennington. 
 
 Here he was beset with the religious doubts from which, imtil he 
 found the New Church, he suffered such agonies. One of his associates 
 in teaching WTites: '"He was struggling with the hard dogmas of the 
 church and was at times in a skeptical mood and more than a mood. 
 He was very conscientious and his mental sufferings were great, and 
 that for years." 
 
 In " Why I am a New Churchman" Mr. Giles says: 
 
 I did not doubt because I desired to do so. On the contrary, I clung 
 to every point of the old faith with the greatest tenacit>-. I clung like 
 a drowTiing man to the last plank imtil I was torn from it or it failed 
 me, and I sank into die depths of despair. I have no language that is 
 adequate to express the darkness, horror, and agony of the state I lived 
 in, if it could be called living, for years. One hope alone sustained 
 me: I did not doubt the existence, the wisdom and goodness of God. 
 I settled down to the duties and necessities of life widi the purpose of 
 faithfully doing my work and awaiting whatever die future might have 
 in store for me. 
 
 -^23)s^~
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 Wanderings Through New York and Pennsylvania 
 
 N treating of this period of Mr. Giles's life the words of Goldsmith 
 come vividly to mind: "Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow." 
 
 From Bennington Mr. Giles went to West Hampton and taught for 
 a time. Thence he went to a still greater distance from his native 
 place. 
 
 New York and Pennsylvania, through whicli he traveled, were then 
 much farther from his home than California would be now. As he 
 went from one country school to another, always with the burden of 
 his disappointment upon him (he had wished from boyhood to be a 
 clergyman), with ill health and few friends, with the consciousness of 
 powers of mind capable of fine development, he was constantly op- 
 pressed with a morbid sense of his own inability to surmount the ob- 
 stacles of ill health, and frequently reproached himself with the failure 
 to work systematically at self-improvement, a work which under the 
 circumstances was simply impossible. 
 
 No one, his children least of all, who knew my father would recog- 
 nize him in the sentiments expressed by this gloomy misanthrope. In 
 after years these clouds were all dispelled by the light of the New 
 Church. It is to show the change these effected tliat the following ex- 
 tracts from his diary are given. 
 
 THE DIARY 
 On the flyleaf is written: 
 
 " Musing Memory loves to dwell 
 With her sister Solitude; 
 From the busy world she flies 
 To take that peace the world denies. 
 Entranced she sits; from youth to age 
 Rescanning life's eventful page 
 And noting ere they fade away 
 The little lines of yester day." 
 
 -4 24 >"-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 It opens thus: 
 
 Sundry Thoughts and Feelings of one who has Many that would 
 not appear well upon Paper 
 
 W , Oct. 22, 1835. Evening. Desolation, desolation! here I am! 
 
 where, where? A school-teacher in W . I am not so weak but that 
 
 I can brave a little trouble yet. Here am I in this old room without 
 anything to comfort and cheer me. But I must away with all these 
 thoughts. I must forget that I have any sensibilities. Oh, how easy! 
 I must content myself with plodding along in the cold and cheerless 
 routine of my daily task. 
 
 This morning I commenced teaching a school of about thirty-five schol- 
 ars. Wlien I entered the schoolroom and looked around the motley 
 group before me I felt as strangely as the man with a " turned head," 
 and if I don't know by experience what it is to have a turned head be- 
 fore I get through, I shall think myself well off. The teacher who 
 left tlie school let tlie scholars run about just as tliey pleased and I 
 found myself in a complete bedlam. However, this I hope to remedy, 
 for most of the scholars seem disposed to do what is right. Gave them 
 a lecture on whispering, communicating, and noise, took their names 
 and then heard recitations. It requires more than the patience of Job 
 to sit calmly and quietly and listen to half-gotten, dull recitations. 
 Such, however, seems to be my fate, and I must submit. 
 
 Nov. 10. My scholars have been more unruly than common to-day. 
 With some great fellows I hardly know what to do. They seem deter- 
 mined to whisper and are entirely regardless of my feelings. What 
 is worse tlian all, they pretend to be Christians, but how little of the 
 spirit of Him who was meek, forgiving, and kind even to the evil and 
 unthankful, do tliey exliibit! Strange that we should be so immindful 
 of tlie feelings of others! But such is human nature. 
 
 Nov. 18, 1835. My school is going down, or ratlier up. A number 
 of scholars have left me radier than submit to the regulations. Well, 
 away with them, I care not! 
 
 Jan. 3, 1836. Nearly two months have elapsed since I have recorded 
 my feelings, and a strange two months it has been for me. After I 
 
 - <^ 25 }§.••■-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 had closed my school I started immediately for somewhere, which I 
 found in the event to be New York. 
 
 Driven by a reckless and uncontrollable desire for something, I wan- 
 dered on, I knew and cared not where, until my money was nearly ex- 
 hausted. Not succeeding in obtaining a school such as I wanted, and 
 oppressed with a sense of loneliness and a desolation that was almost 
 
 insupportable, I returned to F , and here I am now teaching. Wild 
 
 and reckless as my journey truly was, it taught me one lesson which 
 I might have learned before: tliat no change in circumstances can 
 change my nature, can make me what I am not — Oh, must I always 
 live like this? Is there no remedy? If my health would permit me 
 I would plunge into the depths of study. It should absorb my whole 
 attention. But now I cannot, cannot think. I cannot do anything. 
 How great and fearful is the change which my feelings have under- 
 gone during the last year! Where, oh, where shall I be! and what shall 
 I be at the close of this if no light breaks in upon me? 
 
 Fishkill, April 1, 1836. Since writing the above I have traveled 
 many a mile and passed many an hour of misery. I have been with 
 friends, warm, kind, and deeply interested in my welfare, and I have 
 been alone, without one who could sympathize with me. I know not but 
 I have been as happy in one situation as another. 
 
 Fishkill is now my place of residence. I have been here nearly 
 two months, teaching in the Academy. I have gained some conquests 
 over myself if I have done nothing else. My school has increased in 
 numbers very rapidly, and if nothing hinders I shall probably have 
 a flourishing school. 
 
 April 8. Wliere is there rest for the weary soul which sits in 
 darkness? Wlien will mine cease its tossings? When will it be 
 calm and quiet as it once was when I believed all things and hoped 
 all things? Rest for the weary, rest! It cannot be found in this 
 world. 
 
 April 11. Well, I have every tiling but myself to encourage me. 
 My school is prosperous and if well conducted will be profitable, and 
 that is what I very much need. If I were once free from debt, a load 
 would be removed from me which I now find it difficult to bear. Cheer 
 
 -•^ 26 ^-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 up then, my heart, better and brighter days may yet be in reserve for 
 me since there can be no worse. 
 
 June 8. Novelty in the occupation of teaching! That would be a 
 novelty, in truth. It is dullness and vexation to-day, vexation and 
 dullness to-morrow, and the next is like unto it. An unceasing draft 
 upon one's patience and strength, mental and physical. 
 
 One boy is ugly, another is saucy, a third lazy, a fourth a fool, 
 though his dear mamma thinks him a genius. A fifth is perhaps a good 
 scholar, but thinks he confers an everlasting obligation upon you by 
 getting his lessons and behaving decently; and perhaps — oh, there is 
 no unmixed evil and bitterness in this world — perhaps the sixth is a 
 good, kind, and affectionate boy. 
 
 The parents, too, are always willing to lend a helping hand to the 
 poor son of suffering. " You must not whip my boy ; if he does not 
 mind, let me know it and I will deal with him severely." " I want my 
 boy to study such and such a study, and I want you to make him get 
 his lessons," etc., etc. Another one is perfectly unmanageable at home, 
 but notwithstanding tlie teacher must keep him in good order or he will 
 have the good old dame about his ears pell-mell. Some are not willing 
 to have their children corrected at all, and so it goes. Confusion take 
 the employment! This is not my lot for life. May a kind Providence 
 forbid it! What, teach, teach, teach forever! I'll dig the earth first, 
 as hard and full of thorns as it is. But gentle, my kind friend, no 
 passion, no hasty resolutions; you cannot dig — and to beg! why, you 
 would gain a poor livelihood in that way — who would give? 
 
 Well, what has happened to-day? Nothing in particular — shook 
 one boy, deprived a half dozen others of their recess because, forsooth, 
 the little urchins were tardy at noon. They pouted some, but they had 
 to bear it, and it did them no good to be sulky, for I only laughed at 
 them. 
 
 April 9. So goes the world. A curse to-day, a kick to-morrow, and 
 that is all a teacher can get. There may be exceptions, as there are to 
 any general rule, but they are few — but away with these tlioughts. 
 It is a beautiful morning; the late shower seems to have breathed anew 
 the breath of life into all nature. The birds, the flowers, every blade 
 
 -4 27 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 of grass, seem to look fresher and send forth an offering of sweeter 
 incense. The clouds have rolled away to the east, where they linger 
 in dark masses, as though they wish to gaze still longer on this lovely 
 spot. The sun gilds them with a glory, and their farewell is one of 
 smiles! They are like the dull cold realities of life, kindled with the 
 bright rays of exulting hope. 
 
 On June 6, 1837, Mr. Giles again changed his situation. He is now 
 in Middletown, Pennsylvania, and writes as follows: 
 
 June 7. Commenced school with twenty-five scholars, some of them 
 dirty, ignorant, and stupid beyond comparison, but on the whole they 
 were much better than I expected to find them. I have some bright- 
 looking boys and girls. 
 
 How much I have changed in a few years, yes, even in one year! 
 Constant gloom has had such an indurating effect upon my heart that 
 I am almost insensible to my condition. Two years ago I would have 
 been more desolate in my present situation than the wrecked mariner 
 on a barren rock surrounded by the waves. But the dream of youth 
 (he was only twenty-four) is passed. I have lived so long without 
 friends that I do not feel the want of them so seriously, and as I have 
 no home I am as contented in one place as in another. 
 
 My head has been the source of disappointment to me, and I believe 
 there are but few who could bear the constant pain which I have borne 
 for years without murmuring, especially as the seat of it has been in such 
 a place that it has entirely deprived me of continuing in my favorite 
 pursuit. 
 
 This day had passed away very cheerfully, far different from some 
 of my first days in school. 
 
 June 9. that I could find some way to solve my doubts, to tell me 
 what to do in my present condition. There are a thousand employ- 
 ments open to every one but me. My passions are strong, and my 
 will weak, and my energies almost paralyzed. Whither shall I turn? 
 — Oh, patience, patience! Let me wait. The time must come when 
 I must change this state for better or worse. If my plans are thwarted, 
 perhaps it is for my good. Let me then fulfill the duties which devolve 
 
 -^ 28 ^-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 upon me. I hope for better things. Thou Great Power Who 
 rulest the heavens, help me in my weakness! Give me patience and 
 submission. 
 
 Yesterday things passed off as usual in school. Some of the children 
 are rude, dirty, and ugly, but I hope to be able to manage them. How 
 can I interest them in their books? They are without books, and almost 
 without mind. Can they be made orderly and industrious? I will try. 
 
 June 13. The clouds have broken away and the air is filled with the 
 perfume of flowers and the music of birds. Why cannot man lift up 
 his thoughts to the Giver of all good as freely and spontaneously as the 
 birds and flowers? Sin has blurred his perceptions, and estranged him 
 from the only Being Wlio can help him. Truly did sin bring death into 
 our world and all our woe. But why was it permitted to enter? Why 
 was all this fair and beautiful creation of the Deity exposed to the 
 blight of sin and death? This is a mystery which none but Him Who 
 made it can solve. For wise reasons He has concealed it from our view. 
 
 Have been reading Watts on the " Improvement of the Mind." If 
 all would follow the directions of that great and good man there would 
 be fewer pretenders to knowledge, fewer cavillers and more sincere 
 seekers after truth. I wish I could follow his directions, but how can 
 I? My head is so diseased that I cannot keep my mind from wandering. 
 
 June 17. I spanked one boy yesterday, and did it in a passion too, 
 which was very wrong. But he was so impudent that I could not be 
 moderate. Besides, I wished especially to make an example of him, as 
 he is the son of one of the first men in the place. When the rich men's 
 sons have to obey, the others will without any difficulty. I am deter- 
 mined that I will have good order in school, if nothing else, and I 
 believe in most cases it is necessary to have the scholars fear you to 
 obtain that object. Many think it can be secured by persuasion and 
 reason, but it depends upon the character of the scholars. If they have 
 been well managed at home they will use reason, but if the rod has 
 been law it must also be to some extent in school. 
 
 June 19. I had quite an addition to-day to my school. My number 
 is now sixty-six. I understand that the committee are well pleased. 
 That is some consolation, especially as there is some probability that 
 
 -4. 29 }§o-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 they will wish me to remain longer than my present engagement. If I 
 do remain they know that I shall have a higher price. 
 
 After summoning courage to ask his landlord his rates per week he 
 writes: 
 
 June 20. It is strange what a sickly delicacy I have about bargain- 
 ing of any kind. I have been here now nearly three weeks and have 
 thought every day that I would ask the price of board, but have shrunk 
 from it until last night. I was so agitated that I could hardly stammer 
 out the question. This is wrong, and I have thought many times tliat 
 I would break myself of it, for it has made me some trouble. But it 
 is difficult to cure what is bred in the bone. 
 
 June 26. Sunday I walked to Harrisburg. It is one of the hand- 
 somest villages I have seen in Pennsylvania. Front Street is especially 
 beautiful. The town is situated on the banks of the Susquehanna, 
 whose broad and silver stream glides peacefully by. A number of 
 wooded islands lie scattered up and down the river. Two bridges also 
 extend across it which add much to tlie beauty of the scene. The State 
 House is built of brick, and from its situation on an elevation presents 
 a very imposing appearance. I visited the State Library and found 
 a very large collection of books, principally of the law; very little 
 poetry. 
 
 Towards evening, while walking to take the air and enjoy the cool- 
 ness of the breeze, I discovered a multitude collected about the State 
 House to hear a negro preacher. The gay dresses of the young and 
 their quick and restless motions contrasted finely with the darker habil- 
 iments of the grave and aged. 
 
 The preacher was a man of middle stature, with nothing remarkable 
 in his appearance except a very thoughtful expression of countenance 
 which seemed to express the sincerity of his heart. He spoke fluently 
 and was quite graceful in his gestures. I was much pleased with the 
 ability of the speaker, and the respectful propriety with which the 
 people, principally negroes, listened. 
 
 Why may not the blacks, enslaved and degraded as they be, yet rise 
 and take a stand with the other races of men? The idea that they were 
 
 -"»j{ 30 ^'-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 designed by the Creator to serve the more powerful white man is one 
 which we can hardly reconcile with His justice or mercy. The poor 
 despised African will yet arise from the earth, disenthralled from the 
 chains of his master. 
 
 June 29. My scholars behave very well. Now that I have con- 
 quered them, I must direct all my energies to excite their minds to 
 study. They begin to think differently than they did when I began to 
 teach. They find I am not a tyrant, but (juite the contrary, and that 
 they will meet with approbation and be encouraged. 
 
 July 25. I have become more acquainted with the yoimg people in 
 town and of course have visited more. My health is not quite as good 
 as it was when I commenced my school. My head pains me more 
 severely. Oh, what a curse it is! It is the ruin of all my earthly 
 prospects. I wish I could get some active employment diat did not 
 require much mental labor. If I could, I think I could get along very 
 comfortably. 
 
 Mexico, Sept. 3. My wishes with regard to an employment seem 
 to have been at length fulfilled. I have given up teaching, and have 
 commenced an occupation which I fondly hope will be more congenial 
 to my health and feelings. My present circumstances are not very 
 cheering, but I will do what I can to better them. I mean to cultivate 
 habits of more close and active observation, and as I expect to travel 
 for some time I presume I shall meet with some curious specimens of 
 humanity, and many things worthy of observation and remembrance. 
 
 On the way from Mifflin to Leiviston, Oct. 6. Tlie road lay through 
 tlie Narrows, as it is termed. The mountains rise like mighty walls on 
 either side. They are covered with trees, the growth of centuries, to 
 their very tops. The clear, placid Juniata glides noiselessly and 
 humbly at the base. On its calm mirrored surface were reflected a thou- 
 sand various lines from the opposite mountain, for it is now the season 
 of tlie " yellow leaf." On one side the mountains stretch along in an 
 unbroken line for some miles, nearly as regular as if it had been 
 formed by the hand of man. The Pennsylvania Canal winds along by 
 the side of the road. As we rattled on in our coach we occasionally met 
 with a boat, laden with produce or passengers, for tins canal is the great 
 
 -^ 31 }S--
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 thoroughfare between the East and the West. The sound of the boat- 
 men's horns echoed musically from hill to hill and gladdened a scene 
 which of itself looked wild and melancholy. 
 
 Oct. 12. This has been a day of rejoicing among the Democrats. As 
 soon as the news was received that the members of their ticket had been 
 elected, knots of men began to collect about the comers of the streets, 
 in hotels and other places. Preparations began at once for celebration. 
 As soon as it was dark, candles were stuck upon every post in the centre 
 of tlie town and along the principal streets before Democratic houses. 
 Many boys who might truly be termed " Rag, Tag, and Bobtail " were 
 immediately collected. Soon after appeared two drums and a fife, 
 around which all the boys gathered, and marched through the streets 
 crying and screaming like so many wild savages. This was but the 
 prelude to the ceremony. The band marched through the streets pre- 
 ceded by four men, each bearing a flag upon which was painted Victory 
 in large letters. The great masses of the Party joined this procession. 
 They stopped at the houses of the principal Democrats and gave them 
 three cheers. After the circuit of the town was completed in this man- 
 ner, as many as could, crowded into the bar-room of one of the hotels, 
 and there they drank and screamed and shouted; they stamped and 
 clapped their hands and danced and swore till all were hoarse and half 
 were drunk. They then rushed into the street, where they now remain, 
 swearing, roaring, and screaming like the untamed sons of the forest, 
 or, not to disgrace them by such a comparison, like so many devils. 
 
 Such scenes as I have witnesed make me tremble for our country, for 
 the only firm basis of a republic must be the virtue and integrity of its 
 citizens. This almost compels me to believe that man is not capable 
 of governing himself. The worst of this, however, is caused by the 
 influence of ardent spirits. Who can see how much below the brutes it 
 debases man and not be a friend to the cause of temperance — a 
 tried friend — one who would use all his influence both by precept and 
 example to dissuade others from its use. 
 
 In the following is the first mention of the character of his new occu- 
 pation ■ — ■ dentistry. 
 
 -'4_ 32 ^'-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 Oct. 18. I have tried to do a little work to-day, but I fear it is not 
 well done, and I shall expect next week to see some of the individuals 
 upon whom I operated return with just cause of complaint, for if my 
 filling does stay in, it will be a wonder. This is nearly the first piece of 
 work I have performed; I am so unskillful in the use of the instruments 
 and have so little confidence in my own abilities that I made blundering 
 work of it. I broke three instruments, — a file, a drill, and a plugger. 
 I tried to fill two cavities in adjoining teeth, but the gold came out of 
 the first one while I was filling the other. I was in so much of a hurry 
 and bluster that I could not find an instrument, and instead of crowd- 
 ing the gold into the cavity I forced it between the teeth. I broke a 
 piece of the tooth off and made so many blunders that I am almost dis- 
 couraged, but I think I can do better next time. The fault at present 
 does not lie so much in my will as in my ability. Perseverance will 
 overcome all obstacles, and I hope I shall have sufficient to enable me to 
 become a good practical dentist. 
 
 Oct. 23. Thus far my life has not verified Dr. Franklin's maxim, 
 "Time is money." My time has never been money to me, at least 
 to any great extent, and now it is quite the reverse. But I am in hopes 
 that I shall soon be able to do something to recruit my purse, for it is 
 lank enough at present. Why can I not make my present profession a 
 stepping-stone to something else, or rather, why can I not support 
 myself handsomely and pursue my studies at the same time? Surely 
 it cannot be for want of leisure; nothing but disposition — unless it is 
 health. I have lived for a long time without thinking, and fear the 
 habit has become so confirmed that I cannot break myself of it. My 
 mind is perpetually revolving in a circle. Some years ago I began to 
 have some peculiarities of thought and have been content to tread, 
 like a horse in a mill, in the same beaten track ever since. 
 
 Why should I suffer myself to sleep away my life in this manner? 
 Merely to vegetate? Why not think and act? Surely, why not? I can 
 observe as well as others, and why can I not express my thoughts? I 
 have imagination, why cannot I body forth the hope of things un- 
 known? The reason, perhaps, is simply this: I have indulged so long 
 in idle dreams, in intellectual luxury and effeminacy, that I have not
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 sufficient powers of will to break from my thraldom and pursue a 
 steady and vigorous course of thought. 
 
 I am now at the bottom of the hill, and the only way for me to rise 
 above the common level is to oppose force to force, to meet circum- 
 stances with an unyielding spirit. There are no favoring gales to waft 
 me to fortune. The way is stern and rugged, but it is not impassable. 
 
 "Circumstance, that most unspiritual god," does not sit upon the 
 throne of supreme power. An indomitable will is able to compete 
 with it. But is mine indomitable? " Aye, there 's die rub." 
 
 Oct. 29. What a strange being I am! How inconsistent! How I 
 long to rise in the world, yet how I dread the action necessary for it! It 
 seems as if my mind were sore, and that it hurt me to think. Can this 
 be the effect of slothfulness? It seems to me not. Perhaps I am want- 
 ing in that one great principle which forms tlie basis of all eminence, — 
 fixedness of purpose. How much I have read about application! How 
 often I have recommended it to my scholars, but how little have I prac- 
 tised it myself; to know and to do are two different things. 
 
 Perryville, Nov. 5, 1837. This is a small village in Kishioquilis 
 Valley, and the people are good specimens of Pennsylvania yeomanry. 
 The houses are mostly built of logs, and though the country has been 
 settled for some time, it appears quite new. The inhabitants are a rude, 
 uncultivated, sturdy race, capable of enduring hardship and of living 
 on the coarsest fare. They are ignorant of almost everything but the 
 means of acquiring wealth, but in this they seem to be adepts. 
 
 I am more and more pleased with my new profession. It affords fine 
 opportunities for observation and improvement in the knowledge of 
 the world. I see men, women, and children of all grades in their own 
 characters; besides, I have sufficient time to read and study or for 
 amusement. 
 
 Nov. 10, 1837. Last evening my landlady had what is called an 
 " apple-butter boiling." This is made an occasion for great merriment 
 among the laboring classes in Pennsylvania. 
 
 The young of both sexes collect early in the evening with enough of 
 the more aged to "stir the butter." The latter usually occupy the 
 kitchen, while the more gay and youthful assemble in another apart- 
 
 -4 34 )§.--
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 ment to spend their time in dancing. I suppose we had an unusually 
 rough set last evening, but none of the more respectable in this part of 
 the country will attend these " breakdowns," as they are emphatically 
 termed. There were very few of the female sex. The young bucks 
 came in their usual everyday clothes, and all of them were as wild as 
 untamed colts. One, white with meal, came from the flour mill; half 
 a dozen with unwashed hands from the cornfield; another, with a hole 
 in his coat, from the shop. Some were with elbows out of their sleeves, 
 others with ragged pantaloons and " clouted shoon." All were mad 
 with glee, swaggering about and kicking up their heels. 
 
 The young men took turns in playing upon the violin. After every- 
 thing had been arranged as much to the satisfaction of all parties as 
 was possible, when all were of a different opinion, they started off 
 pell-mell. Such a shuffling and kicking, such a stamping and whirling 
 as tliey made, I never witnessed before. Bill flouted his rags in Liz's 
 face, Joe caught Jane around the neck, and round and round they went, 
 sometimes up and sometimes half do\vn. John hit Josh a clout on the 
 ear, and Josh tried to trip up his heels in return. " Go ahead " was the 
 watchword, and go ahead helter-skelter they went. The one who made 
 his heels fly the fastest was the best fellow. 
 
 In this way they continued, with an occasional interruption, until 
 nearly one o'clock in the morning, when the disorder became so great 
 that they could not proceed. 
 
 Apples were handed around in a basket such as ladies use for sewing. 
 All jumped for an apple as soon as the bearer of them, a fellow so 
 drunk he could hardly go, entered the room. As great a scuffle ensued 
 as when Discord threw the golden apple among the assembled god- 
 desses at the nuptials of Thetis. Cakes and pies were placed on a 
 table and every one helped himself. 
 
 It was considered rather a tough " l)rcak-do^vTl," but all passed off 
 very pleasantly except for tlie few who drank rather more wine and 
 gin than they could carry steadily. They all seemed to enjoy it fully. 
 It certainly afforded me much amusement and a fine opportunity to 
 observe the manners and customs of the people. There seemed to be 
 no jealousies or rivalry, except to see who could enjoy himself the most. 
 
 - *4 35 }■> -
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Every one had a devil-may-care air about him, and there was no fear of 
 violating the rules of etiquette. It is well that it is so. If happiness 
 depended upon refinement, as it is often miscalled, or politeness, as 
 that word is defined by the more fashionable circles, how large a por- 
 tion of the world would be miserable! 
 
 Jan. 7, 1838. The year of 1837 on the whole has passed away much 
 more pleasantly than those immediately preceding it. My mind has 
 not been so deeply involved in gloomy thought and my health has boen 
 better. Still I sometimes have unaccountable seasons of depression. 
 At such times life presents but few charms. The future is dark as a 
 thundercloud, and I only wish to live because I fear to die. But these 
 fits are not of so long continuance as formerly, and this is very 
 encouraging. 
 
 I have now made another temporary change in my business, but how 
 I shall succeed the future alone can determine. I have begun to lecture 
 on Chemistry. To tlie people in general I am a traveling popular lec- 
 turer, and this is my first attempt. I spoke last evening on the science 
 in general, and succeeded much better than I expected, though the lec- 
 ture was not a very splendid concern. It was written in two days, 
 while suffering severe pain in my head. However, it passed off very 
 well. I was very collected while delivering it, and made very few mis- 
 takes. It was rather a wild undertaking for one like me to begin a 
 course of public lectures on a subject about which I know but little, 
 especially since I am to conduct a series of experiments on substances 
 with which I am almost entirely unacquainted. 
 
 I am now cut off from nearly all communication with those whom 
 I have loved and esteemed, and by my erratic life I expect to continue 
 so for some time to come. 
 
 Lewisburg, Feb. 11, 1838. Since writing the above I have delivered 
 three courses of lectures, and have as yet made nothing by them, and 
 I very much doubt whether I ever shall; I have not sufficient confidence 
 in myself or assurance sufficient to obtain subscribers. Some weeks 
 since I had the misfortune to bum my hand severely, and last evening 
 I accidentally inhaled some chlorine gas, which nearly suffocated me, 
 and I fear it has done my lungs permanent injur)'. Improvidence has 
 
 -4 36 ^'~
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 been my besetting sin and the cause of all my misfortunes. I never 
 expect to be worldly-wise, and surely in my moments of highest self- 
 esteem I cannot consider myself wise in any other sense of the word. 
 So of course I must be a fool or, to use a milder term, very unwise. 
 
 Elmira, New York. I have spent two weeks in this place, and have 
 delivered four lectures only. I did not succeed in obtaining a class, 
 though it was my own fault. But I cannot go around and ask men to 
 subscribe. My nature shrinks from it. Every feeling within me re- 
 volts at the idea, so until I can change my nature I cannot make itin- 
 erant lecturing a profitable or pleasant employment. But I intend to 
 continue it a little longer. I hope it will help in some degree to raise 
 my courage and enable me to meet my fellow beings with more 
 confidence. 
 
 Why can I not overcome my diffidence? Have I not strength of 
 character sufficient to conquer these feelings, to break these bands which 
 so fetter my actions, and which are of so much disadvantage to me in 
 obtaining a livelihood? Is my nature so weak that I must fear and 
 tremble at the sound of my own voice? Why can I not enter the busy 
 scenes of active life and jostle among the crowd as others do? I will 
 make one more effort to do it. I can succeed. I must succeed. I must 
 rise above these feelings. I ought to be ashamed that I have indulged 
 in them so long. It is a want of manliness. " 'T is weakness all." 
 
 Palmyra, Wayne Co., N. Y., May 3, 1838. After many wanderings 
 I am more at rest, though it is not decided yet. A good oppor- 
 tunity now offers itself to engage in teaching; the best I have ever had. 
 What shall I do? I have taught and been miserable. I have taught 
 and been comparatively happy, and I have traveled and been happy 
 too. Some occupation I must have. It is necessary to my well-being; 
 I have also a heart for home and rest. Bums said that it was his curse 
 that he had lived without an aim or end, and I fear it is likely to be 
 mine. I have seen sometliing of the world, — not much it is true, but 
 enough to judge sometliing of the character of the people who inhabit 
 it. It is pleasant to see new places, but change can afford no perma- 
 nent satisfaction as long as I am in my present circumstances, in debt; 
 and often out of money, or hard pressed for it. Will it not be for the 
 
 -4 37 }■>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 lasting benefit of my pocket and character to settle down, be economi- 
 cal, and endeavor to become square with the world? My better judg- 
 ment tells me tliat it will. I know I shall never advance as long as 
 I am wandering from place to place like Cain. Now let my energies 
 awake and I may yet rise above the common level of my fellow beings. 
 I have mucii to do to conquer myself, to subdue wrong habits and 
 acquire new ones; to reverse the train of my thoughts and give them a 
 new direction. I shall have nothing to hinder me but my own evil 
 nature. 
 
 Palmyra, May 27, 1838. I have now been engaged in the High 
 School three weeks, and have nearly decided upon teaching as ray 
 profession. If I do so I wish to engage in the business with zeal and 
 interest, and to become a teacher second to none. It is a lowly station, 
 it is true, in the opinion of the world. It is attended with unceasing 
 care and anxiety and its rewards are small. But there are compensa- 
 tions higher than wealth, of a more enduring nature. The world is all 
 a false and deceitful show, as the experience of millions testifies. Let 
 me not envy the rich or the great, but be content with my situation, and 
 do all that I can to ameliorate the condition of suffering humanity and 
 enlighten the minds of the rising generation. 
 
 In the following is the first statement of a principle of influencing 
 otliers, that of leading them in freedom to their own decisions for the 
 right. Contrast it with his methods at Fishkill when the scholars were 
 to learn by " fear " who was the master. 
 
 May 31. Yesterday I endeavored to take a new stand in school with 
 regard to some practices of the scholars of which I do not approve. 
 And I believe I began the right way; appealed to their judgment, and 
 then made them act upon it for themselves. 
 
 Boys and girls ought to regard every regulation in school as insti- 
 tuted for their benefit. Wlien a rule is proposed by tlie teacher he 
 ought to exijlain his reasons for wishing it to become a law of the 
 school. If it is possible he ought so to present it that the majority will 
 adopt it in feeling, principle, and practice. Tliey ought to feel that 
 the law is made for them, and that compliance with it will conduce to 
 
 -4 38 }>•■-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 their happiness and profit. It requires some tact on the teacher's part 
 to create such a state of feeling, and some decision to continue it, and 
 to see that the law is not broken with impunity. If he can do this, and 
 in addition make his pupils feel that he is not a tyrant or a stem mas- 
 ter, he will do well and have good government. 
 
 June 4. Yesterday I was forcibly struck with the appearance of an 
 Indian who came creeping along, apparently trembling lest he should 
 give offense to some of the lords of tlie soil. I could not but reflect 
 what a change had come over these people within one century. Then 
 they were a powerful race. They roamed free and unmolested through 
 their native wilderness. Nature's simple children; their wants were 
 few and simple. When their earthly course was run they laid their 
 bones with tliose of their fathers in the full hope tliat their spirits would 
 pass to the happy hunting grounds in which they would spend a vigor- 
 ous and immortal youth in pursuing their favorite pleasures. 
 
 But the white man came and the red man has vanished from the 
 forests. We profess to be an enlightened and philantliropic people, but 
 we have never ceased to persecute the Indian since we landed on this 
 continent. The native has been driven before us until he is nearly 
 extinct as a race. It may be, however, that we are only the instruments 
 of vengeance upon him in the hands of God. There seems to be 
 abundant evidence of the former existence of a people far more en- 
 lightened than the aborigines. They may have been exterminated by 
 the Indian and now it is his turn to feel the might of a conquering arm. 
 
 After a visit to a young lady he makes the following unflattering 
 comment upon his own conversational powers. Here, too, is the first 
 mention of Coleridge, a writer whom he greatly admired. In after 
 years he considered the influence of Coleridge as one of the stepping- 
 stones to his interest in the New Church. 
 
 August 18. My talk cannot be called " small talk," much of it, but 
 perhaps it is worse. It contains some truth and much error, — error 
 of manner and error of expression. I have not sufficient command of 
 language to converse well on any subject. My ideas are too scattering. 
 Many of them are half formed, and but few complete. I would like 
 
 -4 39 }§^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 the power of conversing freely and intelligently, of possessing some of 
 the graces and charms of manner and the resources of matter which 
 Coleridge and some others possessed. 
 
 Here follow some comments upon a clergyman. It is only one of 
 many criticisms that are frequently given in the diary. Douhtless by 
 this close attention and observant comment on tlie matter, manner, and 
 delivery of the sermons he heard, my father was unconsciously training 
 himself for his future profession. 
 
 He has a good heart, but in my opinion is rather narrow in his views 
 and disposed to think it is the minister's whole duty to preach repent- 
 ance and forgiveness. His mind has never been thoroughly disciplined, 
 as is abundantly evident from his repetitions, disconnected asthmatic 
 sentences, as Coleridge would call them; from his want of order and 
 the great length of his discourses. How strange that any one who pre- 
 tends to teach should not know that the most abiding and powerful 
 influence is not produced on the mind by constant and wearisome repe- 
 titions! If spiritual teachers were more mindful of their matter and 
 manner than the quantity of their discourses there would not be so 
 many listless hearers, and I doubt not the word preached would be 
 "the power of God unto salvation" to quite as many as it now is. 
 
 Dec. 16, 1838. I have concluded to spend this afternoon in my 
 room, thinking that I might derive more benefit from reading and medi- 
 tation than I could from the minister. I need reflection more than 
 instruction. I need introspection; patient, unflinching contemplation 
 of my own powers, of my nature, both moral and intellectual. I need 
 to understand my capabilities better than I do. For years I have been 
 driven from society and restrained from making eff^ort by an unmanly 
 shrinking from the world; by sensitive fears lest I should not speak 
 and act in such a manner that no one could find fault with what I did 
 or said. Why should this be? I am a man as well as the oUier beings 
 who compose the inhabitants of the eartli. I am endowed with the same 
 capacities in kind if not in degree with other men. Why then should 
 I not exercise them with decision and energy, relying upon my own 
 judgment and conscience for approbation, rather than looking with a 
 
 -"^{ 40 ^'-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 supplicating aspect to my fellows to be kind and considerate in their 
 estimates of me? Why may I not act independently, since God has 
 bestowed upon me rational faculties, judgment, and powers of mind 
 of at least ordinary capacity? There is no reason, no good one, and 
 I will endeavor henceforth to examine myself and gain a better knowl- 
 edge of my relative position in the intellectual world, and to think and 
 act more independently and to speak my sentiments more unreservedly. 
 I can do it. / will. 
 
 In the following is expressed the germ of an idea which after- 
 wards became a fixed method in tlie explanation of New Church doc- 
 trines. " Fundamental principles! " How often they are mentioned 
 in the unfolding of New Church truth! 
 
 Dec. 22. I have a half -formed plan in my mind for classifying my 
 knowledge by beginning with fundamental principles, then ramifying 
 like the branches of a tree with different classes and species. If 
 one would begin when young and form some general outlines, set up 
 some waymarks to guide his investigations, if he would fix some general 
 principles and refer all his ideas to those principles, comparing them 
 with the standard which has been erected in the mind, what stores of 
 knowledge might he not accumulate and of what vast service this 
 metliod would be to him! What order and regularity would there be 
 to all his thoughts! Even if his means of obtaining knowledge were 
 limited he would have perfect command of what he did possess, and 
 could communicate it to others with clearness and ease. 
 
 Dec. 23. If the discoveries of new truths produce so much pleasure 
 while we stand upon the shore and are examining only the pebbles, 
 what must be tlie measure of that joy which is in reserve for the human 
 mind when, freed from the obstructions of humanity, invigorated with 
 new energies and sharpened with new acumen, we are left free to search 
 into the boundless ocean of mystery which lies beyond and before us. 
 Shall we go on, forever on, accumulating new ideas, enlarging the 
 capacities of our o\\ii minds, or rather of our beings, receiving new joys 
 from every acquisition and stimulated to new acquirements by new 
 pleasures? 
 
 -4 41 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Thus shall we soar on eternally with no abatement to our energies! 
 Oh, glorious hope! Thought almost blasphemy! I, like God, shall 
 ever be! 
 
 The above is the first expression of a favorite thought frequently 
 heard in after life, but applied then more to the whole development 
 of character than to merely intellectual growth. 
 
 " If tliis world is so beautiful, what must the spiritual world be! " 
 "The child born to-day may develop far beyond tlie present capacity 
 of the highest angel! " etc. 
 
 Dec. 27. I think I am deriving much benefit from reading Cole- 
 ridge's Friend and "Aids to Reflection." Every word seems to 
 come home to my heart and my being seems to expand under its influ- 
 ence. Wliat an intellect did that man possess! Who shall say that 
 he did not live a tliousandfold longer than multitudes of common 
 men? 
 
 On December 30 tliere follows another period of self -analysis and 
 reproach : 
 
 Have I made the best improvement in my power of the means and 
 opportunities granted me for progress and exerted all the means in 
 my power to enhance the happiness and well-being of my fellows? 
 My heart, my conscience, thunders No! I have done little or nothing 
 for others. I have made little or no progress either in the intellectual 
 or the spiritual life. Some of the year I have passed in wandering from 
 place to place as an itinerant lecturer. My conversation has mostly 
 been of a trifling nature, my reading until within a few weeks has been 
 light and desultory. I have investigated no subject of nature or art 
 to any extent. Life has appeared like a dreary waste, and I have 
 wandered on like a lost traveler without aim or destination. I have 
 learned some important things. I am better fitted to maintain the 
 conflict with the world. I have a better knowledge of human nature 
 and a more intimate acquaintance with my own heart. Especially 
 during the last few weeks have I had new thoughts in relation to myself 
 and new sources of pleasure in contemplating the nature of my exist- 
 
 -^ 42 ^'-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 ence, the attributes of my being, and my destination. As far as mental 
 discipline is concerned I don't know that I have made any progress. 
 Despondency still broods with leaden wings over my spirit, paralyzing 
 my energies and casting a shade of darkness over my joys. 
 
 Jan. 1, 1839. I trifle as much as others, I presume, but not in the 
 same way, and it affords me no pleasure to prattle away an hour about 
 
 nothing. Last evening I attended a party at . Both old and 
 
 young were present and it was a gay time for many, but I was an ex- 
 ception. My head pained me severely, and after wearing out the even- 
 ing I returned home early, having derived no advantage from it except 
 additional evidence that I never was formed for promiscuous society. 
 
 This evening I have been writing an article for the paper on " Educa- 
 tion." It is the first time I have ever written for the public, and it is 
 not without hesitation that I have done it. But something must be 
 done to awaken the people to the subject, and I am willing to do what 
 I can to accomplish so desirable an object. 
 
 On January 3, 1839, after commenting very favorably upon a 
 preacher he adds: 
 
 I wish I had his command of language. He certainly has a very 
 choice selection of words at his command and he knows when and how 
 to use them. That is something, I suppose, to which I shall never 
 attain. My command of language is very limited. 
 
 Jan. 4. January has not opened very favorably. I have had more 
 than usually severe pains in my head, many of my pupils are ill, and 
 the remainder are so full of all manner of iniquity that I can restrain 
 them with difficulty. Every day I see more and more the necessity of 
 controlling myself or, in the words of Jactobat, of "emancipating 
 myself." 
 
 Now follows the first mention of my mother. 
 
 I have spent a part of the evening with Miss L y, a worthy and 
 
 interesting young lady of sound mind and good sense. How much 
 more gratifying and pleasant it is to talk with one of such a mind and 
 heart than to be in a gay party where sense is proscribed and serious- 
 
 -^ 43 }?►•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 ness and truth are strangers. It is one of the properties of virtue and 
 intelligence to throw a charm over all the intercourse of life. Beauties 
 are discovered upon which the mind delights to dwell. An attractive 
 loveliness is thrown over every word and action. Even the motions of 
 the body appear more graceful and new beauties beam from the coun- 
 tenance. Let others admire the graceful motions of the mazy dance, 
 the beauty of form and feature, the brilliant repartee, the interesting 
 prattle of nothings. But give to me a heart beaming from the eye — 
 "a soul warming tlie inner frame." 
 
 This mention of my mother is the only one in the diary until later, 
 when he speaks of his engagement to her. 
 
 As she was undoubtedly much in his dioughts at this time, it seems 
 a fitting place to introduce her and her relatives to the reader. My 
 Aunt Rowena, Mrs. Isaac Knapp, an older sister of ray mother, who for 
 some time assisted Father in his school in Ohio, has at my request writ- 
 ten tlie following: 
 
 I first remember your mother as a perfectly healthy, good-tem- 
 pered, lovely, loving child after the roly-poly order, and of course a 
 great favorite with her brothers and sisters. I do not remember her 
 as particularly quick-witted or brilliant in any way, but she developed 
 harmoniously in both body and mind. Singularly so, I think. When 
 old enough to study " Watts on the Mind," that was her favorite branch 
 of study. Her compositions, as they were called, were above medioc- 
 rity and quite original for a schoolgirl. Her scholarship, amiability, 
 and self-respect insured her a good standing with her teachers and 
 popularity among her schoolmates. She first became acquainted with 
 your father as her teacher. He, as a native of the same part of Massa- 
 chusetts as our parents, naturally sought the acquaintance of our 
 family. After he had established himself in Hamilton, Ohio, he re- 
 turned to Palmyra, married your mother, then but nineteen years old, 
 and took her to his new home. 
 
 All of the sisters (there were four) were taught to knit and to sew 
 at a very early age. An irreverent niece insisted that her mother was 
 taught to "knit between creeps." Their father, Abner Forbes Lakey, 
 was a farmer in Wayne County, a man of sterling, upright character, 
 
 -4 44 )g^~
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 and of rather undemonstrative nature. The education of the family 
 was such as was given in the " select schools " of the day. For a time 
 my mother went to a boarding school in Rochester. But the better part 
 of her education, and indeed that of all the sisters, was given through 
 the influence of their uncle. Dr. James Lakey, a remarkable man of 
 whom we shall speak later. 
 
 Caroline Lakey in one of her letters to this uncle gives a pleasant 
 picture of the home life and their habits of reading: 
 
 The works which you advised me to read I have never yet seen. Have 
 been reading lately Irving's " Bracebridge Hall," and admire it ex- 
 ceedingly. He has such a happy faculty of giving interest to incidents 
 trivial in themselves, by his inimitable way of presenting them to his 
 readers. His " Sketch Book " was familiar to me when I was quite a 
 child. I well remember listening to it a long time ago when we were 
 all at home together. It was tlien our habit to sit around our ample 
 fireplace in winter evenings witli our knitting work, or plying the swift 
 " little needles." 
 
 Rowena read aloud to us one evening " The Legend of Sleepy 
 Hollow," and I can never forget the renowned Ichabod Crane, his ad- 
 ventures with the spectre, or the comments thereon by my sisters, so 
 long as memory exists. 
 
 They not only read but reflected upon the books they perused. The 
 sisters were intellectual women, aff^cctionate, of sterling character and 
 fine presence. Caroline Lakey was perhaps the most talented. She 
 had a decided taste for drawing and music, and possessed literary abil- 
 ity as well. After tlie death of a friend, she drew from memory a 
 likeness which was so much better than any existing portrait that it 
 was a great comfort to the surviving relatives. 
 
 For a time she taught school. It seemed to her that she could obtain 
 a better position if she knew how to play the piano. She did leani, 
 notwithstanding her father's disapproval, which he thus amusingly 
 expresses in a letter to his brotlier James: 
 
 I had a letter from Caroline a short time since. She is anxious to 
 have a piano. Were I as rich as I am poor I should feel no disposition 
 to encourage such folly. I was always friendly to musick. You know 
 I used to make cornstalk fiddles and have bought many a jewsharp 
 
 ~4 45 }9—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 of A. Wood (he used to make the newest kind), but somehow I always 
 detested a piano. I have not answered her letter yet. 
 
 My grandmother, Lucy Pomeroy, died at the age of thirty-six. She 
 was beloved, honored, and respected by all who knew her, and her 
 death was an irreparable loss to the family. 
 
 Elizabeth, the eldest daughter, was quite young, but she took charge 
 of tlie housekeeping and brought up the family until her father mar- 
 ried again, ten years later. 
 
 Ira Lakey was the eldest of the family. He was a very interesting 
 character, and it would be pleasant to go more into details concerning 
 him and give some of his experiences as captain of a whaling vessel. 
 
 The second son, Franklin Lakey, was a large operator in grain and 
 became engaged in many business enterprises of magnitude. He was 
 a truly honorable man in all the relations of life and was known as the 
 farmer's friend. 
 
 The forbears of my grandfather, Abner Forbes Lakey, were Scotch- 
 Irish. Matthew Lakey was the emigrant ancestor who came to this 
 country in the ship Eagle in 1636. His father was wounded in the 
 siege of Londonderry. He was a Protestant, and it is not known 
 whether he was bom in Scotland or in Ireland. 
 
 Matthew Lakey settled in Upton, Massachusetts, and "reared a 
 family of sons and daughters." James Lakey is the one who particu- 
 larly interests us. He was a soldier of the Revolution, and as he and 
 his wife made it their home with my grandfather in their old age, his 
 tales of the war were one of the pleasures of my mother's childhood. 
 
 My aunt writes: 
 
 His sons, Abner Forbes, James, and Thomas, were very much attached 
 to each other, more so than is usually the case with brothers. I wish 
 I had a picture of the trio together that would do tliem justice. Such 
 fine intellectual heads surmounting athletic bodies; such peculiarly 
 beautiful dark violet eyes often mistaken for black, which when provo- 
 cation occurred would scintillate sparks of indignation quite petrifying 
 to the transgressor. Love was not unmixed with fear in my feelings 
 for my father. He had the Puritan coldness of manner that kept his 
 children at arm's length. I do not remember kissing him but once in 
 my life, and then he looked astonished. This occurred after a two 
 years' absence from home. 
 
 -4, 46 ^-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 James was different. Being a bachelor, he adopted the children of 
 his brother into his heart. He always greeted us widi a kiss and kind 
 word, took great interest in the formation of our characters and minds, 
 and gave us presents of books suited to our needs and years. His ad- 
 vent was hailed with delight and as an important event with his brothers 
 and their children. 
 
 In the War of 1812 he was a surgeon on an American privateer. This 
 was captured by an English vessel, and he was in Dartmoor prison for 
 a while. After the war closed he practised medicine in Canandagua 
 for a time, and eventually settled in Cincinnati, in which place he died 
 in June, 1856. 
 
 He had the most remarkable and retentive memory I ever saw. He 
 considered the Bible the Book of books, and the Christian religion the 
 great mental and moral lever of the world. He could repeat chapter 
 after chapter that he had learned when a child at his mother's knee, 
 and poetry that he had read and admired when young, like Scott, 
 Byron, Pope, Cowper, and any of the English classics. He could re- 
 peat page after page without an error. He was very fond of both 
 ancient and modem history, and always associated events and dates 
 with unerring exactitude. He was sometimes called by his friends 
 " Dr. Day and Date." 
 
 He was the central figure in the family group. Nature used her 
 finest clay in modeling him, and yet many without half his intelligence 
 have achieved more recognition. 
 
 The interest in his nieces, of which my aunt speaks, was very mani- 
 fest in his letters to my mother after her marriage. He was really a 
 friend in need to the young couple. His medical skill was at their 
 service in times of illness, and he was always ready with his counsel 
 and advice in a great variety of matters, from the bringing up of the 
 children to the consideration of any proposed change in the family 
 plans. He without doubt saved the lives of both my mother and my 
 father at different periods, as well as the lives of the children. He was 
 an influential factor in their early married life, and in later portions 
 of this biography I have given a number of his letters at length. 
 
 In tlie Pomeroys, my mother's maternal ancestry, the Puritan strain 
 is clearly defmed. The very names of the emigrant ancestors (two 
 
 -M 47 ^■~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 brothers, Eltweed and Eldad) have a Puritan twang. They came to this 
 country in 1636 and settled in Dorchester. Eltweed is the one from 
 whom our mother is descended. 
 
 His son Medad removed to Northampton in 1663. He was select- 
 man, town clerk, registrar of deeds, and representative several times 
 to tlie colonial legislature, besides being deacon for forty-one years. 
 He outlived all the original settlers. Of his descendants there are at 
 least eight bom in the homestead who had military honors. 
 
 His son Ebenezer was the first man in Massachusetts to be considered 
 a professional lawyer. 
 
 Ebenezer's great-grandson Enos was the father of Lucy Pomeroy, 
 my grandmother. Her maternal grandmother was one of the famous 
 Edwards family of Northampton. 
 
 The Pomeroys were all men of affairs both in peace and war in the 
 early days of the country. 
 
 General Pomeroy was one of the original committee of safety ap- 
 pointed in die beginning of the Revolution. He was not only a soldier 
 and manufacturer of guns, but rendered important service to the state 
 and tlie country by laying out and constructing the great highway from 
 the Connecticut River into Berkshire County, thus facilitating the prog- 
 ress of the colonial troops in the French and Indian War. 
 
 We will return now to the diary, which is written from Rochester, 
 September 22, 1839. Through the recommendation of a college ac- 
 quaintance Mr. Giles obtained a position in the Collegiate Institute 
 of Rochester. He writes: 
 
 More than two months have elapsed since I last wrote, and many 
 things have occurred worthy of note if I had possessed energy enough 
 to record them. My first tenn has closed and I have traveled some 
 during the vacation. 
 
 I have acquired some new ideas since I last wrote, by which I mean 
 I have made some new discoveries in my moral nature, the condition 
 of man and the relation he sustains to others and to another world. I 
 seem to have acquired some new light, — a light which shines into the 
 dark abyss of our nature and reveals dimly some of the things which 
 lie concealed there. I have been reading Carlyle's "Miscellanies," 
 and am much indebted to him, for I feel it has been of great service to 
 me. Have been quite unwell for some time. My head much worse. 
 
 -'4_ 48 ^'-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 The present term has commenced very favorably. Oh, if I can 
 have strength to perform my duties aright, — wisdom and patience and 
 perseverance! 
 
 With a growing sympathy for his pupils he writes on October 8 as 
 follows: 
 
 It is universally acknowledged that children love knowledge. Why 
 then are they so dull and stupid in school? Are they not fed with 
 stones instead of bread? When the young heart cries for knowledge 
 we deal out words to it. It feels that its search is fruitless and soon 
 gives up tlie attempt unless compelled by the rod or fear of punishment. 
 I mean to make an effort to enlist the feelings of my scholars in the ar- 
 rangement of the school and the manner of reciting their lessons and 
 everything which pertains to them. 
 
 Oct. 23. I have been reading Shelley's poetry. How beautiful! 
 How wild! How graceful! What a chaste imagination! How bril- 
 liant! And, after all, I cannot believe that he was so bad a man. If 
 he had lived he might, and probably would, have thought diiferently. 
 His errors were those of the head more than of the heart. How 
 strange that one of his thought and discernment should think that 
 there was anything in the human heart naturally lovely and good; 
 above all, that tlie principle of love was so strongly implanted there, 
 that it would ever reign paramount and guide and regulate all the other 
 passions and affections. He has described in the " Prometheus " 
 almost exactly what would be the state of things if the principles of 
 tlie Bible reigned in every heart. 
 
 Nov. 20, 1839. For the last montli I have been doing just nothing 
 at all except make a few resolutions which have been as soon broken. 
 I have read Foster's Essay on " Decision of Character " and perhaps 
 have derived some benefit from it, though 1 receive so many impulses 
 from so many different sources which drive me in so many different 
 ways that I move forward not at all. I am like a body at the centre of 
 the earth, attracted every way alike, and the consequence is that I have 
 come to a |)crfect standstill, or if I move at all it is with a vacillating 
 motion, and 1 soon rest in the same state from which I started. My 
 
 -<i 49 )3^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 reading is a specimen, or rather a result of my character. I read a 
 little of everything and not much of anything that is solid and useful. 
 Though novels I have done with — I cannot bear them. I read reviews, 
 periodicals, and odd pieces and scraps of everything. I have quite 
 a passion for looking over papers, and the thought has occurred to me 
 often that I should be quite at home in the editorial chair, but I pre- 
 sume a week's trial of it would convince me to the contrar}'. I believe 
 I do not read for information, but for the purpose of passing away the 
 time. I labor hard and accomplish as much as most teachers perhaps, 
 but still I am out of my element. I seem to be doing nothing for myself 
 or others. The doctor says I must not read or think much. He need 
 not caution against the latter, and the former is only another name for 
 idleness. I have begun "Locke on the Understanding," but I presume 
 I shall not read more than diree chapters in it before I jump to some- 
 thing else. So I have passed my life, and so I suppose I shall till 
 death closes the scene. 
 
 Dec. 15. I know not why it is, but my duties in school seem only 
 as an accident, as something which ought not to form the main business 
 of life. They are arduous too, and often require all my mental and 
 physical strengtli. Still they hardly serve to form a fraction of what 
 I am to do and what I ought to do. I am not satisfied with myself, no, 
 no, not at all, and shall I ever be? Is any human being? None who 
 have a right view of life. No, our work never can be accomplished, 
 fully, perfectly; but in working itself we accomplish somewhat, if no 
 more than to keep our faculties from stagnation. Let me work, let 
 me toil on till life is ended, but let me do it heartily, cheerfully; let 
 me strive to make progress by all means, by joy and sorrow, by pain, 
 by suffering, by disappointment if need be; let me advance at any rate! 
 
 Jan. 12, 1840. I have been to the house of God, and have profes- 
 sedly worshipped with His people. But have I? Whom have I wor- 
 shipped and What? Where have been my thoughts? Has my heart 
 joined in the solemn ascription of praise, of honor, and glory to the 
 Great Supreme? death! The palsy of death has come over me. 
 I have only a kind of galvanized moral life. If I ever show any 
 signs of it it is only when imder the influence of some powerful 
 
 -»2{ 50 ^■-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 excitement, an occasional meteor flash, and then all is darkness. This 
 cannot be that light which shines brighter and brighter unto the perfect 
 day. 
 
 Palmyra, May 16, 1840. Another change in my location. Once 
 more I am among the Palmyrans and expect Monday to commence 
 school again. I believe I have never stayed in one place longer than 
 a year at a time since I came from college. But I must give the rea- 
 sons for this change. I went to Rochester because I wanted greater 
 wages, and for some other reasons which do not operate now. With 
 my increase of wages I found a vast increase of labor and a great 
 diminution of pleasure. It is true I had many advantages which I did 
 not and shall not have here: the privileges of a good library, a reading 
 room, fine music at church, good preaching, and some other things. 
 But I can have nearly all these pleasures here, and some which the dry 
 and dusty city cannot afford, — the fresh air, the fragrance of flowers 
 and the green things which cover the earth, the song of birds, the pros- 
 pect of green fields. But these were not the first or most important 
 considerations. After the close of my school in Rochester I came here 
 to settle some unfinished business, expecting to go West as soon as I 
 could on a visit to my sister. A few men, anxious to have a select 
 school, made me an offer so liberal that I concluded to accept it. The 
 school is to be small, and I think I shall enjoy it much. If my health 
 is good I mean to study some. I intend to do something and, what is 
 more, to be somebody. My sister is married and now I am more 
 and more alone. It seems as though a dark shadow had inter- 
 vened between us, cutting me off from the sunlight of her love. It 
 seems as though I must now look elsewhere for love and sympadiy. 
 But I know it is not so. I know the same love beats warm in her 
 heart for me that always has. She was married to a Mr. Powers 
 of Decatur, Illinois, the first of May. God grant that she may be 
 happy. 
 
 May 18. I went to church Uiree times to hear Mr. S and an- 
 other Reverend from Ohio. Mr. S is dry and hard in his manner, 
 
 exploding his words when they come out as though they were wadding 
 from a popgun. He is one of the scolding preachers, rebuking the 
 
 -■>4 51}->-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 sinner rather than sin. He seems to manifest but little brotherly feel- 
 ing for man. Such is not the way to win souls. Fear may drive some 
 from sin, but I doubt very much whether it leads many to Christ. 
 
 Hamilton, Ohio, Nov. 30, 1840. Something of a change in time 
 and space since I last wrote. My school in Palmyra did not answer 
 my expectations nor those of my employers, and the consequence was 
 I left it. Many circumstances combined to make it impleasant for me 
 and unprofitable for others. The children had been spoiled by mis- 
 management at home. They ruled their parents, and they thought it 
 strange that they could not rule me. My health was also bad. Some 
 of the time I could hardly hold up my head, and of course I could not 
 do justice to them. Consequently, though I was engaged for a year, 
 it was tliought best to give up the school, which I did with much cheer- 
 fulness. Now I am here, soon to begin teaching again, under what 
 auspices I do not know. It is something of an experiment, but I am 
 not entirely dependent upon chance. My head is somewhat better, 
 I think, and I hope I shall be able to keep a first-rate school. I intend 
 to do my best at all events, and if I fail 1 think this will be the last trial. 
 I will turn my attention to some other business, so that I may prove 
 whether the fault lies altogether in me. 
 
 He thus speaks of his engagement to Eunice Lakey of Palmyra: 
 
 Since I last wrote a very important crisis in my life has passed: 
 I now contemplate forming one of the most intimate relations in life 
 with one whom I have long loved and esteemed. For some time it was 
 a matter of much doubt how my fate would be decided, but I believe 
 that it is now set at rest, and in good time I expect to know from happy 
 experience the joys of wedded life. 
 
 I left Palmyra the 27th of October and had a delightful journey to 
 Cincinnati, where I spent some time with Dr. Lakey, a gentleman 
 whose acquaintance with history is more extensive than that of any 
 one I ever knew. One thing I learned from him, how to remember 
 dates, and especially ages. He seems to know the date of almost all 
 important occurrences since the world began, and I think he has been 
 able to remember them by comparing them with each other and asso- 
 
 -4. 52 ^^
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 ciating them with other things. I have tried the same plan to some 
 extent and I find it succeeds admirably. I mean to try more. 
 
 Hamilton, Dec. 9. Monday the 7th my school opened with fourteen 
 scholars. The young ladies have been educated as most are, in our 
 schools at present, very superficially. They have studied arithmetic 
 for years, and yet there was not one of them who could tell why we 
 carry for ten rather than any other number. They have been through 
 chemistry, but they do not know much about it. Superficial instruc- 
 tion is the sin, the besetting sin of all our schools. Knowledge must be 
 acquired by a kind of high pressure. We must go at railroad speed 
 in education as well as in everything else. Young misses whose minds 
 have no maturity and but little strength, must be hurried through the 
 whole catalogue of the sciences and accomplishments, and when they 
 arrive at the end they are no wiser than they were when they began. 
 They have learned a few names which convey no new ideas to their 
 minds. I believe too the plan of study is erroneous. The lessons are 
 generally too long and, consequently, not well learned. They get some 
 faint conception of what they are studying, but no clear and distinct 
 ideas. They overrun but do not make conquests. I am determined that 
 I will try to make some thorough scholars in this school if I can. I 
 expect there will be much grumbling and many wry faces, but I cannot 
 help it. I think I shall not have much difficulty in maintaining good 
 order, and many of the pupils seem to be very studiously inclined. 
 The only fears I have are about my healdi. My head pains me very 
 much, and I am afraid I shall yet be compelled to give up my 
 profession. 
 
 Jan. 1, 1841. During the past year I have changed my residence 
 twice, have traveled, and seen some new conditions of human nature. 
 From Rochester, where I spent the first of January, 1840, I went to 
 Palmyra, taught a small, unpleasant school, and left the 27th of Octo- 
 ber for the West or South. 
 
 After various wanderings I have come to Hamilton, Ohio, and have 
 charge of the Hamilton and Rossville Female Academy. The school 
 is not over good. I have entered into one of the most interesting en- 
 gagements of my life since the year began, with one who is in every 
 
 -<i 53 IS^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 way adapted to make me happy. I know not how soon our union will 
 be consummated, but if nothing unusual occurs, probably before the 
 close of the year. I do not know whether I have made any further 
 conquests over myself, but I trust I am somewhat further advanced, 
 and I humbly hope if my life is spared that I shall be still farther on 
 in the growtli and exaltation of my nature. In all probability it will 
 be an eventful year to me; its close may find me sustaining new 
 relations to otliers and to the world. That these may advance my own 
 well-being as w«ll as that of others is my sincere desire. 
 
 The winter in this place has been thus far delightful. 
 
 Jan. 3, 1841. Yesterday I changed my boarding place. I have 
 now a room by myself and can indulge in solitude to my heart's 
 content. 
 
 Since the commencement of the new year the cold has been intense 
 for this climate, and it is difficult to keep my room warm enough to 
 be comfortable, even when wearing an overcoat. This morning I rose 
 before seven, went to the Academy, made my fire, swept my room, 
 and sawed some wood before breakfast. I have had a pleasant day 
 in school. Many of the scholars study well. They seem to have very 
 little self-command, however. It seems almost impossible for them to 
 stop communications. I have introduced a plan which I intend to 
 try more for its possible effect tlian for anything else. I require them 
 all at the close of the day to give an account of the number of times 
 they have violated the rule against communications. Tliey don't seem 
 to care much as yet, but I think it will exert a good influence in the end, 
 if I am steady and kind in keeping the account. I think it will tend 
 in some measure to do away with the irritations which are caused by 
 reproof from the teacher, and by the actions which call it forth. I 
 think I may be too sanguine, too impatient perhaps. I do not wait 
 enough for the slow motions of those who are going over the ground 
 for the first time. If I am wrong here I must correct myself. I have 
 tliought I would pay some attention to geometry during my leisure; 
 I think my mind needs the discipline of such a study. I am also re- 
 reading Coleridge's "Aids to Reflection." I have derived much ad- 
 vantage from it heretofore, and I think I shall now. How much I have 
 
 -4. 54 }§e-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 to do to make myself anything like what I ought to be! I must strive 
 against a host of passions, prejudices, habits, feelings. I must unlearn 
 and releam. How little do I know! Diligence, faithfulness, and per- 
 severance will accomplish much. 
 
 Jan. 31. Evening. I have not been to church to-day. I hardly 
 know whether it is a duty or not. It certainly is not a pleasure, for 
 I have heard the same tune sung so long that it has ceased to be music. 
 The great truths of religion are of so much importance that they ought 
 always to interest me. But it seems to me that a majority of our 
 ministers have but a twilight view of what trutli is. They talk of heaven, 
 hell, of life, death, and eternity, but they do not seem to know what 
 those words mean. I hear nothing which bears the impress of much 
 thought. Not that I desire novelties, but tliat consideration which pre- 
 sents old truths in new aspects. 
 
 Is not the present mode of communicating truth calculated to make 
 men feel that they have nothing to do but to be acted upon by it while 
 the speaker's voice is sounding in their ears? 
 
 When men talk as if they had something to say, something within 
 which must have utterance, they will have attentive hearers, and what 
 they say will have effect. 
 
 There are but few persons who will think more than they are 
 compelled. 
 
 Feb. 5. My school this week has been very pleasant and, I believe, 
 profitable for the young ladies. Many of them are studying very hard. 
 They are just beginning to leani. If I can keep them tliree months 
 longer I think I can show tlie good people tliat I have taught diem some- 
 thing. I never have enjoyed a school so well. 
 
 On February 7, in a different vein of morbid introspection he 
 writes: 
 
 Want of decision has perhaps been my greatest enemy, has done 
 more to retard ray progress in knowledge and misdirect my powers and 
 energies than anytliing else. I owe much of my weakness to a morbid 
 sensitiveness and self -consciousness and a fastidious love of excellence. 
 I do not wish to do anything unless it is done the best, better than it 
 
 ~-si 55 }s^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 has been, or can be, and consequently I have not achieved much, and 
 the little I have performed has not been very excellent. 
 
 Feb. 14. I have been reading Carlyle's " Signs of the Times " and 
 some numbers of the Friend. Both contain food for long and patient 
 thought. How could they call Carlyle a mystic? I have never read 
 a writer who expressed himself so plainly and clearly as he does, or 
 one who has so great a command of language, or uses it with so much 
 accuracy. It is true the subjects he vrrites upon are not commonplace, 
 and he deals with principles more than facts. Indeed, facts are of no 
 value any farther tlian they enable us to judge of the principle which 
 originated them. 
 
 March 10, 1841. Since writing the above I have met with one of the 
 most severe disappointments which can happen to a man of sentiment. 
 She in whom I trusted and to whom I hoped to be united soon has 
 doubted my affection and has asked to have our vows dissolved. I hope 
 the breach may yet be healed, but I fear not; indeed, I have little or 
 no hope that it will. I must suffer, but I can bear it without repining; 
 I am now determined to do more than ever for the improvement of my 
 mind and body, and if the pleasures of domestic life are denied me 
 the world is not shut from my view; I intend to devote much of my 
 time this summer to the study of the natural sciences and the cultiva- 
 tion of the soil. I have not exercised enough for some years past. 
 I must do better. 
 
 April 5, 1841. Nearly a month has passed since I have had the 
 courage to record my feelings. I have been sad, disheartened, miser- 
 able. I have endeavored to throw off my gloomy feelings as much as 
 possible, but I cannot entirely escape from them. But I must meet 
 life as it is, and if it presents only a stem aspect I must clothe my heart 
 as with triple steel and meet it as I best can. 
 
 The misimderstanding with Miss Lakey had evidently been cleared 
 away, for on August 9, 1841, we find him on his way to Palmyra to be 
 married. 
 
 On board steamer Robert Fulton, Lake Erie. Left Hamilton, Butler 
 County, Ohio, for New York. Spent the 4lh and 5th in Cincinnati at 
 
 -4. 56 )§«"-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 Dr. Mosher's. Had some pleasant chats with Dr. Lakey about all sorts 
 of things. 
 
 Left Cincinnati at half past eight o'clock for Cleveland. The stage 
 was full, and I was obliged to ride on the outside. It was a pleasant 
 day, however, and I did not regret it. Took dinner in Lebanon and 
 tea in Dayton, a fine town of about six thousand inhabitants, with a 
 good water power, streets broad, situation level, and many beautiful 
 residences. Started from Dayton with appeased appetites, a good 
 team, and a go-ahead driver. Arrived in Springfield at midnight: a 
 much larger place than I expected to find. Reached Columbus at half 
 past seven a.m. This place is the capital. Contains about six thousand 
 inhabitants, many fine buildings, a penitentiary, a lunatic asylum, and 
 preparations are making for building a new State House. Left Colum- 
 bus at half past nine, found the roads dusty. Was almost suffocated 
 at times, but got along very comfortably at the rate of five miles an 
 hour. Arrived in Cleveland on the night of the eighth; had a good 
 night's rest, and the nexi; day at twelve o'clock left on board the Robert 
 Fulton for Buffalo. The boat is slow. 
 
 Palmyra, Sept. 1, 1841. I was sick and did not enjoy the sail very 
 much. The lake was smooth and but few were troubled with sickness. 
 Arrived in Buffalo at eight a.m. on the tenth, and took a packet boat 
 immdiately for Palmyra, which I reached on the 11th of August, at 
 twelve noon. 
 
 Since my arrival here I have spent my time in visiting, have been 
 unwell most of the time, but have enjoyed the society of my friends 
 very much, and I now rejoice in the anticipation of being united to one 
 who will be more than a friend to me. The idea of home has haunted 
 me from my boyhood, and it now seems about to be realized. But 
 I cannot write upon this subject now. 
 
 Hamilton, Sept. 16, 1841. Since my last date an important change 
 has taken place in my situation. My fate has been united to another. 
 This occurred on Wednesday morning, September 8lli, at nine o'clock. 
 Immediately after our marriage we set out for this place. The first 
 day we went only to Rochester. Were accompanied a short distance 
 by a number of friends. We spent the night in Rochester, and pro- 
 
 -Mi 57 ^■-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 ceeded the next day to Buffalo by packet. The day was warm, we 
 were both unwell, and the time hung rather heavily on our hands. 
 Arrived in Buffalo the next morning at eight o'clock. Breakfasted and 
 went to the Falls by railroad. We spent some hours in viewing tlie 
 scenery, and returned to Buffalo in time to take the evening boat for 
 Cleveland. When we left, tlie lake was quiet and we thought we should 
 have a pleasant trip, but before long it became very rough; I was some- 
 what sick, but Eunice was much more so. We arrived safely at Cleve- 
 land the next evening about five o'clock. We remained there until 
 Monday, when we left for this place. We were so fortunate as to have 
 pleasant weather all this time, with good roads and good company. It 
 was a long and fatiguing ride, however, and I was glad when we found 
 ourselves safely in our rooms here. 
 
 Hamilton, Sept. 21, 1841. We have removed our quarters from 
 the hotel, and are now making preparations for a home for the 
 winter. 
 
 What a change has taken place in my whole life within a few short 
 weeks! From the loneliness and desolation which has been my lot 
 for many years, I have now a companion, the chosen one of my heart, 
 to sit with me, to cheer me in sadness, to comfort, to sustain and guide. 
 When I return from school I have a glad smile and a cheerful heart 
 to greet me. I am no longer compelled to resort to my books to drive 
 away unpleasant tlioughts. And yet I can hardly realize the change. 
 Have I a companion for life? Is she to go with me through good and 
 evil, through joy and sorrow, through prosperity and adversity? Each 
 day I feel more and more how richly I am blessed, but it will be a long 
 time before I can fully comprehend the length and breadth of my 
 happiness. May I have wisdom to fulfill all my duties aright; to be 
 careful of her feelings and to guard her interests and welfare as my 
 own, as dearer than my own. We arrived here the 16th of September 
 and remained at the hotel until the 20lh, when we commenced boarding 
 at Mr. Garrison's. I shall begin school to-morrow. I do not expect 
 a great number. The people care but little for education. It is too 
 expensive, — the terms are too high. But I hope to be able to make a 
 living and have some time for mental improvement. 
 
 -4 58 }>-
 
 WANDERINGS 
 
 It was at Mr. Garrison's that Mr. Giles first became acquainted with 
 Swedenborg. A copy of "Conjugial Love" was lying on the table. 
 He picked it up and opened to the Memorable Relation on the" Joys 
 of Heaven." After reading it he said, "Well, if the crazy man has 
 written nothing worse than that he is not so crazy after all." 
 
 Oct. 6. Every one has two histories: the history of his outward life, 
 of his acts, — the tangible, the visible, — and the far more important 
 history of his inner life, of his heart, his hopes, his fears, his daily 
 acquisitions in knowledge, his progress in virtue. This part of my life 
 has assumed a new aspect. Over it has been thrown a cheerful radiance 
 which, if it does not exhibit itself in outward acts and appearances, 
 shines with a healing light and an enlivening warmth over my heart. 
 
 The records of deep affection can never be written. Something may 
 be told. As in statuary, the form may be given, but the life, the ani- 
 mating soul, is and ever must be wanting. 
 
 -^59^-
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 Life at Hamilton 
 
 N his " Boy's Town " W. D. Howells speaks of the Hamilton of this 
 period as a " very simple little town of some three thousand people, liv- 
 ing for the most part in small one-story modem houses, with here and 
 there a brick house of two stories, and here and there a log cabin. . . . 
 It stretched eastward from the river to the Canal Basin, with the market 
 house, the county buildings and the stores and hotels on one street, and 
 a few other stores and taverns scattering off on streets that branched 
 from it to the southward. . . . All around the Boy's Town stood die 
 forest, with the trees that must have been well grown when Mad An- 
 thony Wa)Tie drove the Indians from their shadow forever. . . . 
 
 "The white people had hewn space for their streets and houses, for 
 their fields and farmsteads out of the woods, but where the roads had 
 been left they were of immemorial age. They were not very dense 
 and the timber was not very heavy. . . . There was little or no under- 
 growth except here and there a pawpaw thicket, and there were some- 
 times grassy spaces between them in which the may-apples pitched their 
 pretty tents in the spring. . . . The forest at some points was nearer 
 and at some farther, but nearer or fardier, the forest encompassed the 
 town." 
 
 Hamilton is situated on the Miami River. It is also on a canal which 
 connects the waters of Lake Erie wiUi those of tlie Ohio River, some 
 twenty miles south of the town. The canal basin is in the very heart 
 of the town itself. There is a " Hydraulic " which pumps the waters 
 from the old river into two reservoirs in the town and provides for 
 manufacturing purposes. The miasmas from the old river bed pro- 
 duced much illness, and fever and ague and remittent fever were so 
 common that they were taken more or less as a matter of course. 
 
 The houses were heated by means of open fires, and wood was the 
 fuel used. Water was furnished by wells and cisterns, and usually 
 there was a large hogshead at every door, placed there to catch the 
 rain water for laundry purposes. Homemade tallow candles and lamps 
 in which lard oil was burned gave light at night for reading and sewing. 
 Although there was some severely cold weather in winter, spring came 
 
 -4. 60 ^'~
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 early, and the summer's intense heat began in June and lasted through 
 September. 
 
 The town was connected with the outer world by means of the canal 
 boats, which arrived daily, and the stage-coach, which traveled over a 
 corduroy road from Cleveland to Cincinnati, taking Hamilton en route. 
 
 The people of the community were either from Kentucky, Virginia, 
 Pennsylvania, or New Jersey. '^There were very few from New England. 
 
 Here in the autumn of 1841 Mr. Giles brought his young bride, a 
 girl of nineteen. At first tlie young couple boarded at the hotel, and 
 then in a private family, that of a Mr. Garrison. 
 
 Mr. Giles was established as principal of the Hamilton and Rossville 
 Academy, and in a letter to Mrs. Giles's uncle. Dr. James Lakey of 
 Cincinnati, writes thus of his prospects: 
 
 Hamilton, Dec. 6, 1841. 
 I have a very pleasant, orderly school of sixteen scholars, and so 
 far as I can judge from appearances the scholars are well pleased 
 with my method of teaching, and I presume tlie parents will be when 
 they know anything about it. Some of the young ladies who thought 
 they were old enough to do as they pleased pouted a little at my 
 discipline, but when they found that none of these things moved me 
 they became quiet and now seem well pleased. Tliey have not been 
 well instructed, and if I can get pupils enough to have one ex- 
 amination I think I can show the good people that it is for their 
 interest to send to me. There are several causes that operate against 
 the school and will continue to operate for some time. Many of tlie 
 parents had sent their children away to otlier schools, and now they 
 do not wish to take them out until the close of the session. Others don't 
 know there is a school here yet. They have just started a new public 
 school, and because the building is new many think they can leara 
 faster there. My school will probably increase some till die close of 
 the session, and if I can show them something new and prove to them 
 that their children have been well instructed, I have no doubt of my 
 ultimate success. I am not sure that Hamilton is the best place to 
 establish a school, but I think less depends upon die location than Uie 
 character of the school. But it requires time to gain a reputation of 
 any value in teaching, as well as in other professions. I suppose a 
 
 -4 61 }3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 boarding school would be more profitable tlian a day school, especially 
 in this part of the country where provisions are cheap and board so 
 dear, and I have it in mind to have one either in this place or some 
 other. From my own experience in teaching and what I have seen, I 
 think a small school with a large price is tlie most profitable botli for 
 parents and teachers. But I cannot tell what I shall do. 
 
 I have little or no society to my taste as yet, and I have not been in 
 a situation to read or study much until since the first of January. Since 
 then I have been spending most of my time in reviewing geometry. 
 I intend to commence studying some language soon but I have not 
 decided what. I left almost all my classical books in New York, so 
 that I am poorly provided with ammunition of tliat kind. 
 
 In his diary he writes thus of his home life: 
 
 Sabbath, p. M., Dec. 4, 1841. What a change has taken place in my 
 life, in all my feelings within a few months! I did not think it possible 
 that anything could affect me so much, or that so much happiness was 
 ever to be shared by me in this world. After many years of doubt, of 
 desponding, of darkness and pain, after suffering so much and so long 
 that I began to think that the only hope of comfort I had was that de- 
 rived from the power of enduring pain, acquired by long suffering. 
 After thinking that for me there was no fellow and that the best and 
 noblest part of my nature must forever remain a blank for the want of 
 an opportunity to exercise it, to see once more the visions of my youth 
 brought back, not as visions but as reality; to possess quiet and peace- 
 ful thoughts, to be greeted at all times with kind looks and words, to 
 have a home for my heart and my affections, for my thoughts as well 
 as my body; to have the hours which have heretofore been so solitary 
 cheered by the presence of one dearer than life; to be surrounded with 
 elegancies suited to my taste, with books and one to share them; to 
 have almost every means of rational gratification, a good measure of 
 health, a pleasant employment and the satisfaction of thinking I am 
 doing some good while I am ministering to my own necessities; besides 
 all these and more than all these, to have the sunlight of deep, pure, 
 and constant affection thrown over them all. It is more than I can com- 
 
 -^ 62 ^'-
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 prehend. I think of it. I wonder at it, and I sometimes fear it. Why 
 is it so? What have I done to merit or acquire it? Will it always 
 last? Are these joys above the changes of time? Age and experience 
 would tell me, " Nay," but I will believe them immortal, and no power 
 shall convince me to the contrary except experience. I have hardly a wish 
 ungratified. And yet many who have been as happy as I am now, and 
 who have felt as secure in the possession of felicity, have been stripped 
 of every comfort, have wandered houseless, homeless, and companion- 
 less tlirough many years, and have finally gone down to a dark and 
 hopeless grave. May such a doom be averted from me! May I have 
 wisdom given me from the Source of all wisdom, so to live that I shall 
 not bring such a lot upon myself by my improvidence and that I shall not 
 deserve it for my sins. May I have that meekness which will pre- 
 vent me from being arrogant and self-willed ; which will secure enough 
 of earthly blessings for a competence, and gain the respect and good 
 will of all those with whom I associate. 
 
 The old habit of morbid self-depreciation occasionally crops up 
 even in the midst of his new-found happiness. The following from his 
 diary embodies in addition what in after life he frequently expressed: 
 tlie importance of regarding things from general principles. 
 
 Jan. 16, 1842. Yesterday being Saturday, I had the whole day in 
 which to do nothing and accomplished it very well. It was a beautiful 
 day and we rode a few miles in the afternoon. Talked and visited 
 most of the time. In the evening read Guizot's " History of Civiliza- 
 tion " and Hallam's " Middle Ages." 
 
 Whenever I attempt to examine any question either of history or 
 morals, it assumes so much importance and takes so wide a range, 
 and requires so much research, that I am always deterred from com- 
 pleting the survey, or of even attempting it. 
 
 It is our duty, however, to generalize our facts as much as we can, 
 and to look at them all in the light of some principle. For everything 
 is connected with principles either as effect or cause, and generally, 
 perhaps always, as both. But what poor, weak, miserable attempts 
 I make at everything! What have I ever accomplished? The sum 
 
 -<i 63 )§."-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 total seems to be nothing. The history of a day is — nothing; the 
 history of a week, a year, a month — nothing. 
 
 Sept. 4, 1842. On the 9th of April we left Mr. Garrison's and 
 commenced keeping house! We had been kindly furnished with some- 
 thing to eat. After we had pushed our things into something like 
 order, made our bed and set up our stove, Eunice made some tea, and 
 for the first time we sat at our own table and partook of our o\vn fare. 
 We were alone, yet it was a sweet meal, and I like now to revert to 
 it. As we felt isolated from the world, dependent upon ourselves, we 
 seemed to be drawn closer together. The cords which bind our hearts 
 in one were tightened and strengthened. It was a happy hour for us 
 both. We thanked God for His mercies and implored His blessing on 
 us, and on the days which followed. How shall I describe them? With 
 sufficient employment to keep our minds and bodies active we passed 
 week after week of happiness, of calm, quiet, but deep-felt joy. My 
 school and garden afforded me constant employment and E. found 
 enough to occupy her attention in domestic matters and in preparation 
 for the coming autumn. Our hearts were active, making happiness 
 from little daily incidents. So passed the first few weeks of our house- 
 keeping. After a while we took two boarders, who remained with us 
 for some weeks. 
 
 Further particulars of their life are given in the following letter to 
 Dr. James Lakey: 
 
 Hamilton, May 8, 1842. 
 
 Two Dutch friends of mine leave for your city to-morrow, and offer 
 to be the bearers of a letter to you. Since you left I have been very 
 busily engaged in my school and garden. Many of my seeds have 
 come up and I find myself much interested in their growtli. On the 
 5th we had some lettuce and radishes of our own raising. Of course 
 we thought them better than we could obtain in the market. Our 
 peas and beans will not be as early as we could wish, but we shall 
 have an abundance of them when they do come. I have some sweet 
 potato plants and I have some fine tomatas, as I find the word spelled 
 in some books. We have a cow also, and I can assure you we live
 
 mi;. \M) \iiiN. cii.ES 
 
 . I hour IHfJ 
 ff hen Mr. Giles was teaching in lluniillon
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 most luxuriously. For the first time in many years I can have good 
 milk and plenty of cream. My mode of life suits me better than it 
 has for a long time. I have had a little too much to do since we 
 commenced keeping house, but that will not continue long. My gar- 
 den will furnish me with just exercise enough, and a pleasant recre- 
 ation from the fatigue and anxiety of the schoolroom. 
 
 My school celebrated May 1st on the 5th. A large number of our 
 most respectable citizens were present and I gained a great deal of 
 credit from the neat and orderly appearance of the school. You see 
 how barren of incident my life is, that I am obliged to talk of the songs 
 and dances of little girls and tlie growth of radishes and beans. My 
 mind is at present " of the earth, earthy," and if my letter smells of 
 the mould I trust it will be none the less interesting to you. 
 
 My razor strop has very mysteriously disappeared, and though I 
 have not forgotten that " Charity covers a multitude of sins," I " sus- 
 picion " an uncle of ours who lately made us a visit, of abstracting it. 
 If it was done feloniously my worst wish is that the use of it may have 
 the same effect upon his razor that the want of it has upon mine. I have 
 a "feeling" sense of my loss as often as I attempt to shave. I have 
 used a Greek reader to give edge to my razor but with very indifferent 
 success. I suppose it contains too many roots. 
 
 I have looked with much pleasure over those papers you left. I 
 found the names of some of my relatives in one number. 
 
 I should like to see an occasional number very much. Those rugged 
 hills have produced some men of clear heads and stout hearts, and 
 though I have spent many days among them in digging tlie hard 
 and rocky bosom of the eardi, I remember them with much interest and 
 affection. 
 
 Eunice thinks she grows stronger every day, and I think our new 
 home and mode of life have had a good effect upon us both. 
 
 This quiet, happy life continued for some months and then Mr. Giles 
 writes in his diary: 
 
 My heahh has been mostly ver\' good during the summer, and I 
 have labored liard. E. has been very delicate, but most of tlie time 
 
 -4 65 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 she has been able to attend to lier household duties. On the lOth of 
 August she was attacked with a violent fever and on the 18th was 
 delivered of a son. The child had died, it was supposed, some days 
 before, during a violent paroxysm of fever. My own feelings during 
 the time of her sickness I cannot describe, and I don't know that I should 
 wish to if I could. E. was dangerously ill for a long time but is now 
 rapidly recovering, and we fondly hope that her health will be much 
 better than it has been since our marriage. She has borne all her 
 pain, sorrow, and disappointment nobly. Every day of our life 
 strengthens my affection for her and I have the hope that our course 
 through life will be one of peace and joy. I am sure it will be one of 
 peace. 
 
 In a letter he speaks of one of the school exhibitions. 
 
 My examination passed off very well. The young ladies generally 
 gained credit for diemselves and for their teacher. The Exhibition 
 was a little too good. The young ladies' essays were so much better 
 than the people expected that tliey think tliat I or some older heads 
 wrote them. On the whole everything passed off better than I expected, 
 and I think my prospects for a school next session are better than they 
 have ever been. 
 
 We have had a letter from Rowena. I believe she has given up the 
 idea of coming out here. Her father cannot furnish her with sufficient 
 funds. This is quite a disappointment to us. I had made my arrange- 
 ments to have her assist me, but I must now find some one else. I want 
 some one upon whom I can rely, one who has energy and good govern- 
 ment. All the young ladies who teach here, so far as my knowledge 
 extends, are milk and water concerns. The one I have had this summer 
 is a good girl enough, but she has no energy, and it has been twice the 
 labor to govern the school that it ever was before. We should be very 
 glad to see you if your business will allow it. If you cannot come 
 soon, please write. I shall be compelled to defer my visit to the city 
 for the present. 
 
 Mrs. Giles's father was induced to change his mind and allowed his 
 daughter to go to Ohio. The diary records this fact as follows: 
 
 -<■{ 66 ^'~
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 Sept. 28, 1842. Sister Rowena arrived on the 25th and is a very 
 welcome visitor. I expect she will assist me in school. It seems as 
 though we had a fine prospect for happiness during tlie coming winter. 
 Eunice is getting better. Is now quite comfortable. 
 
 To-morrow there is to be a great barbecue at Dayton. Henry Clay 
 is to be there, and it is expected there will be one of the greatest gather- 
 ings that ever took place in the country. The Whigs are preparing for 
 the coming contest with much spirit. Success to them! 
 
 Oct. 2, 1842. My school continues very much as it was. Most of 
 the scholars are orderly and industrious. I have some boys who never 
 have studied and I am now making an effort to arouse their ambition 
 to do something. I have scolded and threatened them to no purpose. 
 I tried to make them see how much they could leani in half an hour. 
 This had some effect for half a day but no longer. I dien endeavored 
 to appeal to their feelings, to show them the consequences of such 
 slothfulness. And I believe I succeeded in making them feel that the 
 course they are pursuing is one that will ruin their characters, at least 
 for men of business. Afterwards one of them came to me of his own 
 accord and said that they had resolved to do the best they could the 
 rest of the season. I have kindled some ambition. If I can only make 
 the spark live until it bursts into flame I shall do them much good. 
 I want to make those boys learn. For myself there is not much hope. 
 I pursue the same dull course. I have nothing — I am dull, stupid, 
 lifeless. If I read I do not remember. 
 
 Oct. 30. 1 have tried an experiment which so far has succeeded 
 very well; I keep an account of the attendance and conduct of the 
 pupils, and once in four weeks I invite the parents to come to die 
 Academy and hear it read. I never had so good order in school before 
 and with so little difficulty. 
 
 As far as the training and education of the children were concerned 
 the school was a decided success, but there were those in the committee 
 who thought Mr. Giles's charges for tuition were too high. 
 
 When the lawyers and doctors who composed the board of trustees 
 asked him to put down his rates, he said, " I will go all lengths witli the 
 lawyers in reducing my prices;" — a proposition they diil not seem to 
 
 -4 67 }■>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 like very well. They replied that their income was reduced by their 
 inability to make collections. Of course I could say tlie same with 
 regard to myself. 
 He adds: 
 
 Tliis demonstration shows me that I can put no confidence in the 
 permanence of my school. They will destroy it before 1844 if it is 
 not discontinued from other causes before then. I never saw any trus- 
 tees who would let well enough alone. Every one says, " You are mak- 
 ing money," and seems to think it strange and wrong. I believe the 
 commimity generally thinks that a teacher ought not to make anything. 
 
 Who would tliink of asking a lawyer to charge less because it was 
 "hard times"? 
 
 The tidings of Mrs. Giles's illness and the death of her baby brought 
 out much sympathy from her relatives in Palmyra. The following 
 letter from her Aunt C^Tithia, the wife of Thomas Lakey, is so sweetly 
 affectionate and shows such tender solicitude, it gives at the same time 
 such wise counsel, that it must greatly have cheered the heart of the 
 young motlierless girl in the new country, away from the large family 
 of relatives to which she was accustomed, and striving in her inexperi- 
 ence to meet the new life bravely. 
 
 To Mrs. Giles from her Aunt Cynthia Lakey 
 
 Palmyra, 1st month, 18-12. 
 
 I had intended to reply to your mutual letter before this, but since 
 the departure of thy uncle my health has been too good to afford leisure 
 for aught save the multiplied avocations of home. My letters are com- 
 monly the result of illness, for I dare not appropriate to my own en- 
 joyment tlie time which my children properly claim. 
 
 Is it true, my dear, that thou hast been sick? Luther called to-day 
 and said that that was the last intelligence though he thought it was 
 some time since any had been received. I was truly sorry to hear it 
 and hope thou art better before this. If not, I cannot forbear fancying 
 how sadly time will pass, how thou wilt wish for the cheering influence 
 of familiar faces, the kind attentions of sisters, and in this I am not 
 imaware of the value of those attentions thou art receiving, having 
 
 -4^ 68 ^'-
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 been so often obliged to test them and feel their repose. But thou art 
 inexperienced in the real trials of life, in a new home and nearly sur- 
 rounded by strangers. It will test thy strength but I hope it will not be 
 found wanting. 
 
 I know indeed thou hast not been exempt from trials — very few are 
 — but thou wilt find them so various that the past will appear less, 
 perhaps the farther tliou advances. Strength for all things is the most 
 we need and that is all derived from one unfailing source. 
 
 Does it not seem a very long time since thou wert here with us? 
 Time and distance will become less and less. I used to think Cincin- 
 nati too remote for calculation, now it appears nearer than New York. 
 We receive frequent little embassies thence and think of it often. 
 
 E. P. thou saidst was a Catholic. Why do her parents so much 
 regret it? To me various investments of religion are shadows. Once 
 I confided much, but the schism in the society of which I am a member 
 destroyed all confidence in names merely. It has been useful to me. 
 Since then my confidence has not been placed on human institutions 
 nor my devotions intercepted by aught of earth. 
 
 As society exists at present, sects are doubtless necessary. They are 
 as inns to the traveler, homes to the homeless, aids to those who falter; 
 but I should not presume to direct to one more than another, where the 
 great truths of religion were professed and practised. Catholicism has 
 had her full share of the good and great and has contributed largely 
 toward alleviating human misery. 
 
 Tlie above was written last night, after my children were in bed. 
 
 I fear this letter will not be what thou wilt wish. I know the yearn- 
 ings of die heart for home. After absence every circumstance con- 
 nected with it becomes interesting. Home embraces much, but I must 
 leave the rest for thy sisters; they will doubtless write soon. 
 
 In my last I intended to have drawn from my own experience and 
 observation of married life for thy benefit. I am not miirli in the 
 habit of giving advice — you girls, I think, arc tlie only exceptions to 
 a general rule — unless it is solicited. Had thy excellent mother been 
 spared you, this solicitude of mine would have been unfelt, uncalled 
 for. 
 
 -^ 69 }§••-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I am not intending to write a dissertation on married life, or to lay 
 down rules of conduct. Thy own good sense will direct thee better 
 than volumes that are written on the subject. But tliere is one rule that 
 I adopted early tliat has been of more importance than aught else, and 
 contributed to my happiness more than unbounded wealth could pos- 
 sibly have done without it; a rule which should be applied to every 
 situation in life, but which is sadly overlooked even by those who 
 profess to be Christians, and that is to acknowledge the hand of Heaven 
 in all things and apply the acknowledgment to daily life. Wliilc we 
 are young and sheltered by home and parents we have but little re- 
 sponsibility or care, but when we become heads of families we soon 
 feel the need of strength not our own. There is a great amount of fear- 
 fulness, of real trial in the way of our sex, and it is found in almost 
 every day of our lives. Thou dost not now feel it, but arm, my dear, 
 for the contest, for it will most assuredly meet thee. 
 
 My own married life is familiar to thee but thou hast seen and felt 
 widi the mind of a child. We have had a great amount of real suffer- 
 ing in an almost unbroken course of sickness. I am constitutionally 
 fearful and sensitive, and had it not been for tliis early confidence 
 I cannot fancy what would have sustained me. Often, so great has been 
 my despondency that I have as it were held my breath, nor dared to 
 think lest my weak heart should rebel. But Heaven was kind and gave 
 strength for all things. This trust and repose in God becomes a living 
 principle in the heart and invests even the visible creation with beauty 
 unseen before. It becomes associated with all that we think or do. To 
 acknowledge it lends a new charm and affords a new impulse for the 
 performance of every duty. It warns us too of the approach of trial, 
 not in idle dreams, but in a happy consciousness of security and rest 
 in Him who is Lord over all. Apart from this I cannot fancy security 
 or rest. 
 
 Do not consider any preparation necessary to perform this simple 
 act of reliance and trust. It will shield thee from evil and unite thee 
 to God. Nothing but love for ihee has induced this. I am not disposed 
 to make religion a topick, and seldom introduce my own opinions, 
 and when I do, feel afraid I have dishonored more than elevated. I like 
 
 -4. 70 ^'-
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 best the little rill that betrays its presence by the verdant appearance 
 that marks its progress. 
 
 I see I am near the bottom of the page. My thanks to thy good hus- 
 band for his part of your letter. I accept his apology for not calling 
 on me and think it a good and sufficient one, but regret much being 
 obliged to have recourse to pen and ink to form his acquaintance. I 
 cannot fancy your marriage. I know thou art far away and feel as 
 though all were right, but had you both called I should have enjoyed 
 the recollection greatly. I hoped to hear thou wast engaged in school, 
 for I feared the intervals of solitude would not conduce to happiness. 
 But thou must open thy heart to pleasant thoughts and learn to love 
 the " Buckeyes." If I were in tlie habit of wishing I should wish our- 
 selves nearer you, somewhere in the warm valley of the Mississippi. 
 Let me hear from you soon. 
 
 It was not many months after this letter was sent that the writer died. 
 My mother comments on it and other matters in a letter to her Uncle 
 James. 
 
 Hamilton, Ohio, Oct. 8, 1&42. 
 
 The sad news of our dear aunt's deatli we received in a letter from 
 Rowena before your paper came. I cannot realize that she has passed 
 away; the chill shadow of death is not so sensibly felt at a distance. 
 
 Sister Rowena set out from home the 18th of Sept. and arrived here 
 the 25th. I was so glad to see her I did not know what to do. We had 
 been looking for her Saturday, but as she did not come we gave up 
 seeing her for another week. Sunday night the stage stopped and so 
 did Rowena. A Southern family chartered the stage and so she had 
 to wait one day in Hebron. I can't say much of her journey, we have 
 
 had so much to talk about. She visited Dr. W 's and Mr. D 's 
 
 families on her way, and without losing either herself or her baggage 
 found Hamilton, Chauncey, and me. 
 
 If you are tired of this namby-pamby stuff turn over the page, the 
 balance of the sheet will be better filled. 
 
 The truth is, dear uncle, I never wrote a dozen letters in my life, 
 and I hesitate and stammer as much in writing as I sometimes do in 
 
 -4 71 }•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 talking. Notwitlistanding this, Chauncey thinks I can write if I try and 
 wishes me to practise. Possibly I am some like the Irishman's fiddle 
 that had music enough in it, the trouble was in getting it out. 
 
 Mr. Giles added a few words: 
 
 Dear Uncle: 
 
 Eunice has referred you to this interesting page. If a weary body 
 and a faint heart can produce anytliing interesting you may find it here. 
 It never cost me such effort to live before. I make mountains out of 
 molehills, even breathing seems to be an uphill business, and I some- 
 times feel as if I should like to stop a little while and rest. I have 
 a " heap " of work to do this autumn. My potatoes are not yet dug 
 and my beets and carrots remain in their mother eardi. My school 
 occupies more of my time than usual. I shall deliver a course of 
 lectures on chemistry to a class, and I am making a strong effort to have 
 a better school than I have ever had and I think I shall succeed. 
 
 We have had about two hundred ministers here for two weeks. All 
 the " help " in the town has been engaged and we were obliged to help 
 ourselves. 
 
 Rowena is now with us and contributes much to our happiness. She 
 assists me in school and Eunice out, and we move along very happily 
 and comfortably. She brought us a letter from Ira and a fine collec- 
 tion of shells. 
 
 Your affectionate nephew ^ ^ ^ 
 
 L. L. Giles. 
 Mrs. Giles continues: 
 
 Yet there is room, and according to the rule for female letter-writers 
 I must have a P.S. If you will favour me with a visit I would much 
 rather express my gratitude by word of mouth than on paper (do not 
 infer that my tongue acts more readily than my hands). The passage 
 of ideas, or rather words, from my head seems to be so difficult that 
 few are deposited in black and white (blue ink is now in common use), 
 and those are usually in so mutilated condition that it is witli shame 
 I ever acknowledge them. I always find they are not what I once 
 thought them. 
 
 -4 72 ^'~
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 I am much obliged to you for Thomas's " Reminiscences of the Last 
 Sixty-five Years." They contain some fine extracts and valuable facts, 
 but there is much of the editorial " t<;e" in the style. He seems to think 
 that there is not half the hospitality and good feeling in our country 
 that there was when youth, health, and wealth gathered around him 
 a circle of acquaintances that time and time's changes have scattered 
 forever. 
 
 I am much indebted to friends and neighbors for kindness and at- 
 tention during my sickness, but in common with otlier housekeepers 
 I subscribe to the generally expressed opinion that the " Helps " are 
 a "trifling" class. 
 
 Early in 1843 Mr. Giles sent for his parents, brothers, and sisters. 
 It was a longer journey, and one involving more discomfort at that time 
 than a journey across tlie continent or to South America in these days. 
 
 In a letter to his son giving details of the preparations to take his 
 family to Ohio, John Giles writes as follows: 
 
 But why all this fuss about going West when, according to Millerism, 
 this insignificant speck with its more insignificant inhabitants compared 
 to the Universe is to be destroyed next April. We may as well be de- 
 stroyed here as anywhere else. There are few believers in the doctrine 
 in this vicinity. 
 
 For some reason imknown to me the yoimgest son, Edward, a boy 
 of fifteen, was left behind. Soon after, he went to sea and was not 
 heard from until twenty years later, when he returned broken in 
 healdi and died at tlie home of his sister Almira in Decatur, Illinois. 
 There are several of his letters which have been preserved. They 
 express, even after the long absence, strong family affection. The other 
 brother, James, stayed about a year at Hamilton, and then went to 
 California. In this state he settled, married, and had a large family of 
 children. 
 
 Of the sisters, Caroline and Ellen, the former helped in the school 
 until she left Hamilton to be married to a brother of her sister Almira's 
 husband, Mr. Powers. She was a woman of great force of character, 
 not only much beloved and respected by her children but of great in- 
 fluence for good in the comniunity, especially in the cause of education. 
 
 The sister Maria was with Uiem for a while, until she also married. 
 
 -4 73 !§►"
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Ellen, the youngest, at tliis time a child, remained in Father's family 
 until her death of typhoid fever. For a time she taught school in Cin- 
 cinnati. She died in 1858, while visiting her sisters in Decatur, 111. 
 
 This large addition to her household, in itself a tax upon her strength, 
 must also have been an ordeal for one so young and timid as my 
 mother. She was still grieving for her dead baby and had not yet 
 regained her physical strength. 
 
 The first meeting with new relatives is always an ordeal for a newly 
 married woman, and Mother was no exception. When one considers 
 that this large number of " in-laws " were taken into the family, that 
 she had little or no help from servants, that she was in a pioneer country 
 with none of the modem conveniences of living, it seems little short of 
 heroic for this young woman of twenty-one to assume so much responsi- 
 bility. That she met it bravely and conscientiously none know better 
 than her children, but they do not wonder that she was occasionally 
 sad and dejected. 
 
 Hamilton was a very unhealthy town and there was a good deal of 
 illness for them all in tlie next two years. But I will let the diary tell 
 the story. 
 
 Hamilton, June 25, 1843. Since my last date many changes have 
 happened to me in mind and some in external things. My wife still 
 continues to be unwell and I fear she will not recover. My father, 
 mother, and sisters have come from Massachusetts, and my school 
 prospers. In some respects I seem to be doing well, in others — what 
 can I say? 
 
 At the close of the term he writes: 
 
 I shall have a good school in a few years if the trustees do not 
 interfere with me. In house and home affairs we move along as usual. 
 We have some difficulties to contend against, as who has not? Some 
 differences to reconcile, some trials to overcome, some things to bear 
 and suffer, but we have many sources of happiness and many oppor- 
 tunities for improvement. I have now a long vacation. I intend to use 
 some of it in visiting schools in the city, in recruiting my health and 
 spirits, and in making preparations for the coming session. There are 
 many things which lead me to suppose that I shall not make this a per- 
 
 -4. 74 >-
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 manent residence. My prospects, however, for the present are very 
 good. 
 
 Dec. 31, 1843. If there is anything in the history of the past year 
 worthy of notice it is that I have become interested in the writings of 
 Swedenborg. They have opened new views of life to me. The world 
 wears a new face. Whether they are true or false they will exert a 
 most important influence upon my life. 
 
 Jan. 1, 1844. If I mistake not, the new ideas of life which I have 
 obtained from the New Church works will assist me much in overcom- 
 ing some defects in my character. I think they will give me new 
 strength of purpose, and perhaps in time enable me to overcome and 
 correct some original deficiencies in my nature. I must set myself 
 seriously at work, and though I put no confidence in myself, yet there 
 is One Who has strength and WTio is ever willing to impart it to others 
 if they are willing to receive it. 
 
 I have been reading some of the New Church doctrines lately, and 
 if I have health this winter I shall investigate them more fully than 
 I have yet done. 
 
 The idea that a kind Providence watches over us and directs all 
 things for our good, an idea which has now bcome a part of my life, 
 will do much to strengthen me in remedying some of the greatest defects 
 of my character. 
 
 April 15, 1844. Uncle James visited us on the 9tli and remained 
 until this morning. We enjoyed his society much. He is full of anec- 
 dotes, and we have learned much from him about men and things. He 
 has the most extensive acquaintance with history of any man I ever 
 saw. He is matter of fact and hates metaphysics as he does the devil. 
 He advises me to study law. I hardly know what to think of it. I 
 think I am unfitted for it by nature and habit though many of my 
 friends think diff'erently. 
 
 Surely, I do not know what to do. I feel as if it were an enormous 
 task to go through with the vast volumes of die law at my age (tliirty- 
 one), poor, with a family. It must be a hard struggle. I don't know 
 what to do. 
 
 May 11, 1844. What is my situation? Poor, with no means of 
 
 -4. 75 )S«-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 support but my own labor, with a mind not well disciplined, with habits 
 which have in some degree become fixed, which will not permit the 
 closest application to study, with a total dislike of parade and show, 
 with a sensitive shrinking from all unpleasant contact with my fellows, 
 and with the certain knowledge that tlie rewards of wealth and gratified 
 ambition are very unsatisfying. What can I do? If I study law and 
 practise it I must do it against the current of all my feelings, for I be- 
 lieve that very few fair decisions are obtained in what are called 
 the courts of justice. If I bend all my energies to the accumulation of 
 wealth I should feel that even if I succeeded I had gained very little. 
 If I continue in my present occupation I must feel that the influence 
 I exert is very small. To spend all my life teaching the rules of arith- 
 metic and grammar — I sometimes shrink from it. It is perhaps as 
 good a vocation as any. But the little influence that I could exert is 
 counteracted by parents and associates of the pupils. We cannot even 
 correct faults in the use of language. How much more difficult, those 
 which belong to the character, to the thoughts and life! 
 
 Hamilton, May 14, 1844. This day began reading a course of law. 
 I think it very doubtful whether I shall ever complete it, but the read- 
 ing will do me no harm. I have so much to do, however, so many 
 things to attract my attention, that I cannot expect to accomplish much 
 this summer. I have a larger school, a sick wife, my father's family, 
 and various other things to attend to, so that I cannot make much 
 progress. Last night and this morning I have looked over Hoff'man's 
 " Legal Study," Vol. I. I intend to commence " Blackstone " to-night. 
 
 May 16. I have a task before me; I have never accustomed myself 
 to close and vigorous study; I have not the patience to examine difficult 
 and knotty subjects as thoroughly as I ought; I have never been accus- 
 tomed to confine myself at fixed and stated times. My reading has 
 been very miscellaneous, and I have suff^ered one thought to push out 
 another. Have I not something to do? This book for a while shall 
 be the record of my success or failure. 
 
 May 26, 1844. About 2 p. m. Sunday, this 26th of May, was bom to 
 me a daughter (Lucy Pomeroy). It appears healthy and quiet. This 
 is a matter of joy to me, both for its own sake and that of its mother, 
 
 -4 76 ^-
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 The loss of a son about two years ago has been a source of perpetual 
 grief to her, and I think has done much to keep her in poor health. 
 She will now have something upon which her thoughts can rest. I have 
 been asked how I felt — I cannot tell. New joys, like new shoes, do 
 not fit easily to me. Sorrows affect me in nearly the same manner, — 
 I am not overwhelmed at once. A great sorrow stuns me rather, and 
 gradually I seem to become conscious of it. One object after another 
 recalls it to mind, and it is only when I look back that I can form any 
 adequate conception of the magnitude of my loss. It was so with the 
 death of our little boy. I hardly thought of it at the time. But the 
 loss seemed to grow upon me; the joy of other mothers compared to 
 the grief of Eunice. The innocent prattle of children, the thousand en- 
 dearing associations and thoughts which cluster around them, — all 
 this joy will hide many griefs. May it be lasting! And may she who 
 is now born to us live to be an ornament to society, a joy and comfort 
 to her parents, and a partaker of those joys which will follow a well- 
 regulated heart and life. 
 
 May we who have now taken upon us the training of an immortal 
 soul for life have patience and wisdom to perform our duty aright. 
 
 E. still continues to improve. The child is well and we are all re- 
 joicing. The prospect now is that E. will recover her health again. 
 If she should our joy will know no bounds. 
 
 How strange it seems to have such a little one around, to hear its 
 low moans, or its shrill cries. Surely I shall never forget the first one 
 I heard. How much talk it makes! Wlio would have thought that a 
 little helpless thing could be the theme of so many words! Well, joy 
 to us, to it, and to all! 
 
 June 8. Since the last date I have been through a series of trials 
 and excitements, of fears and hopes; E. has been very sick. We almost 
 despaired of her life. I have watched and hoped and feared. She is 
 now out of danger, we think, and seems to be getting well fast. Uncle 
 James has been willi us since Sunday the 2d. T lliiiik we owe E's life 
 to him. 
 
 June 30. My soul and body are sometimes weak and faint with my 
 burdens, but I have a strange strength and I meet all my trials with 
 
 -<i 77 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 much calmness and fortitude. I have nearly overcome that sadness 
 which once so weighed me down. I believe firmly in the Infinite Love 
 with which God regards His creatures. And I feel assured that out of 
 this seeming evil good will be adduced, — a higher and more enduring 
 good than any which this life can confer. 
 
 Oct. 10, 1844. It is now more than four months since I have written 
 in my journal, though my life has been full of incident. My father has 
 departed to the world of spirits, my wife has lain for a long time 
 trembling upon tlie borders of the grave, and I have been very ill my- 
 self, for the first time in my life. I have been teaching for some weeks, 
 but I am very weak. Have had the ague. Occasionally I have been 
 obliged to leave school for several days. Brother James and all my 
 sisters but Ellen have been sick. 
 
 My sister Almira, now Mrs. Powers, came from Illinois with her 
 husband and two children to make me a visit. They arrived here 
 the day I was taken ill. They were all sick while here, and were 
 obliged on that account to remain some weeks longer than they 
 anticipated. I had no visit with them, being most of the time very 
 ill myself. 
 
 March 31, 1845. School opened to-day with only twenty-eight schol- 
 ars. I feel somewhat discouraged though I suppose it will all prove 
 right in the end. Eimice and Rowena think of going to New York in 
 a few days. I shall then be lonely enough, but I shall have enough to 
 do to keep me awake and active. I see that my school will go down 
 here in spite of all I can do, and the sooner I can get away from here 
 the better. But I do not regret coming to Hamilton, tliough my lot has 
 been one of suffering most of the time. Sickness and I know not what 
 has laid me low and kept me so. But I have become acquainted with 
 the New Church doctrines, and I think I have found in them what will 
 be of more value to me than physical health or wealth. 
 
 The foregoing is the last entry in the diary written in Hamilton. 
 
 W. D. Howells was one of Father's pupils for a time and thus refers 
 to his experience: "He stopped going there [to the Academy] because 
 the teacher gave up the school to become a New Church minister, and we 
 my boy's father and mother were New Church people, there must have 
 
 -"€{ 78 ^'-
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 been some intimacy between them and the teacher of which he did not 
 know. But he only stood in awe, not terror of him ; and he was not sur- 
 prised when he met him many long years after, to find him a man 
 peculiarly wise, gentle, and kind." 
 
 Mr. Giles found congenial friends in Mr. and Mrs. W. C. Howells, 
 parents of the author. Mr. Howells, Sr., edited for a time a New 
 Church paper called The Arena. The two families held meetings on 
 Sundays at the home of Mr. Howells. 
 
 My parents lived so continually in the present that they seldom re- 
 ferred to these early days in Hamilton. When they did so the severe 
 trials of these years were ignored, and they spoke only of the pleasant 
 friendships formed, and of the greatest blessing of all, — the finding of 
 the New Church. Mother mentioned die extreme kindness and friend- 
 liness of the people, saying they were all in a new country together and 
 felt the necessity of bearing one another's burdens. 
 
 As an instance of the unremitting effort of Mr. Giles to learn new 
 and improved methods of teaching, the following reply from Horace 
 Mann to a letter of inquiry on Mr. Giles's part is given. 
 
 To Chauncey Giles from Horace Mann 
 
 I am always glad to hear from any friend of education and to help 
 him if in my power. 
 
 I have directed my publishers to send you the volumes for 1844 
 and 1845, according to your request. My last report which you re- 
 quest to have forwarded, you will find in the numbers of the journal 
 for the current year. 
 
 There are many valuable works on the subject of education which 
 I think that you or any intelligent teacher could examine with profit. 
 The previous volumes of the common school journals I have endeavored 
 to make useful and acceptable to teachers, and it has had some of the 
 wisest men amongst us as contributors. You can see by the volumes 
 now sent how you like it. 
 
 If I may be pardoned for mentioning my own works, I have lately 
 published a volume of " Lectures on Education." Then tliere is " The 
 School and the School Master," by Dr. Potter and George B. Emerson; 
 "The Teacher Taught," by the Rev. Emerson Davis, together with a 
 great number of European works. 
 
 -•^ 79 ]^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 If I had an opportunity I should like to send you some of the Ab- 
 stracts of tlie Massachusetts School Returns, which contain compila- 
 tions from the reports of our school committees. 
 
 Should you ever visit this part of the country I should be happy to 
 see you. 
 
 It may be interesting to learn how Mr. Giles's school appeared to 
 others. The following is told by Mrs. Giles's sister, Rowena Lakey, 
 who gave her assistance as teacher for some time. She writes: 
 
 The first thing I observed in his school was tlie perfectly good under- 
 standing apparent between teacher and pupils, and the courtesy and 
 kindness manifested in their intercourse with each and all. It re- 
 sembled the home life in a well-trained family, I thought. Then my 
 attention was called to a wonderful clock which was said to govern the 
 school. A double stroke sounded two and a half minutes before the 
 hour or half-hour. The children knew that they had liberty to speak 
 quietly if they wished to, and the classes took their places for the next 
 recitation of their own accord. Another double stroke announced the 
 hour, and all was still again. 
 
 Mr. Giles's teaching was noticeable for its thoroughness. His object 
 seemed to be to cultivate a love of knowledge, to form a habit of ac- 
 quiring it; and at the same time he tried to make it practical in every 
 possible way. He sought to develop the mind and character in a natu- 
 ral and orderly manner instead of forcing and cramming for display 
 or present results. To illustrate: in teaching a class of beginners in 
 arithmetic, he kept them practising notation and numeration until they 
 each and all could write and read numbers with the greatest ease and 
 correctness. Meantime, to keep up the interest, the exercises were 
 varied by some examples in addition or by learning the tables, etc. 
 They practised on each one of the ground rules in the same way until 
 they could add and subtract, multiply and divide, as fast as they could 
 see the figures. As there are not examples enough given in any arith- 
 metic to cultivate such facility, examples were improvised or taken 
 from other books. 
 
 By this time the multiplication tables and the other tables were as 
 
 -<i{ 80 }>'-
 
 LIFE AT HAMILTON 
 
 familiar to the children as A, B, C. They take pride in buying and 
 furnishing houses, making dry-goods and mantua-makers' bills and 
 settling them, all of which they find interesting and rather amusing 
 exercises; and incidentally the idea enters their minds that this study 
 may be of some use to them in tlie future. Of course it takes time to 
 go through the arithmetic in this way, but it was never necessary to go 
 through a second time, and as they were not hurried on from one thing 
 to another before becoming perfectly familiar with it, they found the 
 study easy and delightful instead of hard and disagreeable. And they 
 were thoroughly equipped for the higher mathematics both by tlieir 
 habits of study and the amount of knowledge already acquired. 
 
 The classes in natural sciences were encouraged in the study of prin- 
 ciples presenting themselves in ordinary life. The children became 
 enthusiastic in studying out the mechanical principles involved in the 
 ordinary implements used in their homes and the streets, and the chemi- 
 cal changes taking place under their own eyes. 
 
 The idea that a schoolbook ever exhausted a subject was never toler- 
 ated, or that of finishing one's education on leaving school. If the taste 
 for knowledge has been quickened and developed in tlie school, and 
 habits of acquiring it are formed there, the business of education is 
 merely well begun. Mr. Giles's methods of teaching were, perhaps, 
 better adapted to the development of a well-rounded, harmonious char- 
 acter than to extraordinary acquirement in any one direction. 
 
 His schools were die most perfect specimens of true democracy widi 
 which I was ever brought in contact. The only distinction recognized 
 seemed to be moral worth. So far as one could see, all were on a per- 
 fect equality. Tlie efforts of the teacher and his interest in their indi- 
 vidual progress were unwearied. His patience was not exhausted by 
 die dullest, nor were his interest and pride centred upon the gifted. 
 All he asked was that each should try to improve and do the best he 
 could. You could never guess who were the children of the rich or 
 influential patrons. Some of the children of one of the rival churches 
 in town, it is said, were once told by their parents to notice and see if the 
 teacher were not partial to So and So's children of tlie other church. In 
 a few days the children reported that they had watched carefully and 
 
 ~4 81 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 did not see any partiality. It seems quite surprising, under the circum- 
 stances, tliat the children should recognize Mr. Giles's sense of justice. 
 
 In the primary department Mr. Giles did not insist upon the little 
 ones sitting up straight and still by the hour, neither did he expect them 
 to give their attention to any particular subject more than a few 
 minutes at a time. Their lessons were very short and rehearsals fre- 
 quent, and their slates and pencils were always at hand ready for use, 
 and they did use them a great deal. There were generally on one of 
 the blackboards some of the capital letters written, or some simple 
 drawing easily imitated, — a cup, slate, or book, — which they might 
 copy if they chose. They had learned a variety of pretty little songs for 
 children which they delighted in singing, and singing and marching 
 were much relied upon to relieve the little ones of the weariness of long 
 sitting. Mr. Giles's sister Caroline had charge of this department for a 
 time in Hamilton. To see her with her fine voice leading the children's 
 voices in their marching music was something one would not willingly 
 forget. The children were as happy as birds and as musical. One of 
 the mothers remarked that she did not know but it was extravagant to 
 send all of her children to Mr. Giles, but when she saw the little ones so 
 happy she felt she could well afford the extra expense. " Wliy," she 
 added, " they sing themselves to sleep every night and awake in the 
 morning singing, and during the day it must be a serious discomfort 
 that a song will not dispel." 
 
 -^ 82 ]^'-
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 Lebanon and Yellow Springs 
 
 T 
 
 A. HE following information was given to me by Mr. Josiah Morrow, a 
 lawyer of Lebanon, Ohio : 
 
 At Lebanon, Ohio, thirty miles from Cincinnati, the intelligent citi- 
 zens organized a company for the purpose of establishing the Lebanon 
 Academy. The Academy building, a two-story brick structure, is still 
 standing, with 1844 on its date block. 
 
 The first principal was C. C. Giles, who had for his assistants Wil- 
 liam Norris Edwards, a graduate of Williams College, afterwards the 
 highly esteemed superintendent of the Troy, Ohio, public schools, and 
 Miss Rowena Lakey. There is abundant evidence that the academy 
 was regarded as a school of a superior excellence. It was patronized 
 by the best families of the town of Lebanon and the county of Warren. 
 The principal was looked upon not only as a fine teacher, but as a man 
 of high culture. Many intelligent men and women who had his guid- 
 ance and instruction have remembered him with gratitude. In De- 
 cember, 1847, leading teachers in Ohio organized the Ohio Teachers' 
 Association, C. C. Giles of Warren County being one of the vice 
 presidents. Mr. Giles remained at Lebanon until 1848. 
 
 Disheartened by die dark days at Hamilton, Mr. Giles hesitated to 
 apply for the position at Lebanon. He was encouraged to do so by 
 Mr. Ogden Ross, one of the early New Churchmen of Ohio. " Wlien 
 a man has ability and wants to be useful," said he, " die Lord opens 
 the way for him. You will get the position." 
 
 Mr. Ross was a warm friend of my father's, and a man so well be- 
 loved that he was popularly known as " Grandpa Ross." He lived to 
 be more than ninety years olil. 
 
 He was of commanding presence, and with his long white hair looked 
 a very patriarch. The portrait of him which we had for many years 
 
 -*■{ 83 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 might have been used by an artist as typical of beautiful old age. He 
 had two sons and a daughter. Tliey were all strong in the New Church 
 faith and useful members of their respective societies. The childlike 
 directness and integrity of Mr. Ross's character are well illustrated by 
 the following incident. When a would-be purchaser for a farm which 
 he had for sale came to him, naming a definite price, he said, " Oh, no. 
 I cannot sell it to you for that." The man immediately offered more. 
 " No," said Mr. Ross, " I have worked that farm many years and I 
 know its exact value; it is not worth so much. I will sell it for so and 
 so," mentioning a much smaller sum than the first offer. 
 
 The school in Lebanon opened September 1, 1845. About six weeks 
 later, October 12, the diary records the birth of a " fine son," Frank 
 Warren Giles. 
 
 The living conditions of those days were not easy, and housekeeping 
 with little or no service and the lack of conveniences made the daily 
 practical life a struggle. But there was much friendly intercourse in 
 the way of calls, and music and reading brightened the humdrum life. 
 
 An item of unceasing wonder to one of this generation who reads 
 the diary and tlie letters of that time is how Mrs. Giles, with frequently 
 recurring illnesses in the family, — illnesses which included herself, — 
 and with the care of young children, managed to provide so good a 
 home, not only for her own family but for the teachers and pupils whom 
 they boarded. Again and again in after life Mr. Giles has said, " Oh, 
 I never would have been anything without you! " And though in her 
 modesty she kept in die background, there must have been a strong sus- 
 taining influence in her never-failing devotion. His heart could rest 
 in her. 
 
 Two months after the school opened Mr. Giles writes to Uncle James 
 hopefully of his prospects: 
 
 Lebanon, Nov. 22, 1845. 
 My school is much larger than it was in Hamilton and I think it will 
 be more profitable. Rowena is going into it on the 24th. I have no 
 difficulty in governing it and I think I shall give good satisfaction. The 
 clouds which have so long darkened the horizon seem to be gradually 
 breaking away, and the light of hope dawns upon my pathway. I have 
 walked by faith for a long time, often, it is true, with doubtful and 
 stumbling steps, but still I trust I have never stopped entirely. If the 
 light which now seems dawning proves to be a steady and benignant 
 
 -4. 84 }gf=-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 one I hope to move on with a steady and firmer step. We all have 
 enough to do and are willing to do all we can. What can we want 
 
 more 
 
 I believe I am getting rather rusty in my literary studies and I hope 
 soon to have time to brighten up a little. The duties which have so 
 constantly pressed upon my attention and demanded all my energies 
 for the last five years have unfitted me in some measure for all literary 
 effort. I have read nothing of any account for several years. I am 
 very anxious to look over my classical studies this winter and shall do 
 it if I have time. My school requires a greater amount of knowledge of 
 the languages and of higher mathematics than any I have ever taught 
 since I left New England. 
 
 Mr. Corwin left on the 24th for Washington. I was passing his house 
 one Sunday when he rapped on the window and invited me to call in. 
 His family were all at church and 1 had a long and interesting chat 
 with him. He is certainly a man of much intelligence and extensive 
 reading. 
 
 The school prospered and throughout the year 1846 the family was 
 well. In the following cheerful letter to Dr. Lakey we find a growing 
 interest and delight in the New Church. 
 
 May 13, 1&46. 
 The history of the last seven months is somewhat instructive. I find 
 I have enemies as well as friends. Some persons for purposes best 
 known to themselves have tried hard to drive me from tlie Academy, 
 but they have not succeeded, and I think the prospect is now fair that 
 I shall remain and have a fine school. Mr. Prescott came to town on 
 Saturday and has preached several discourses on the doctrines of the 
 New Church. It is cheering and comforting to me to hear him. I 
 always gain new strength every time, and when he goes away I feel 
 refreshed and can enter upon the duties of life witli new vigor. I have 
 many blessings. My children grow finely and bid fair to be intelligent 
 and active; my wife has much better health than she has had for some 
 years, and my school is the most lucrative one I have ever liad. My 
 own health is tolerably good. My school is very pleasant and orderly. 
 
 -"4 85 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 My sisters Maria and Ellen are with me. Our family is large, but we 
 contrive to get along very comfortably. 
 
 May 16, 1846, Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 It is impossible for me to believe as I once did. The doctrines of 
 the New Church have thrown new light upon the Word, upon life, upon 
 everything, and I hardly know what my duty is with regard to an open 
 profession of adherence to those doctrines. 
 
 The period of sunshine was brief. In July, 1847, Mr. Giles again 
 became ill, suffering from both pleurisy and sciatica; and the baby 
 too was ailing. With a pathetic courage that is truly appealing, my 
 dear mother writes to her tried friend and counsellor, Dr. Lakey. 
 
 To Dr. James Lakey from Mrs. Giles 
 
 Lebanon, July 2, 1847. 
 
 I know not what to write. Mr. Giles gains so slowly, is still so 
 feeble, his cough is so painful, he has so little appetite, and withal 
 seems to feel, as he says, that it will end in something worse, tliat I 
 have no heart to write anything. I wish you were here. 
 
 Aug. 29, 1847. 
 
 Nearly a mondi has elapsed since I commenced this letter. Our 
 little boy has struggled through a wasting sickness. For a time he 
 appeared vibrating between life and death, but is now decidedly better 
 and has gained very fast for the last ten days. 
 
 Mr. Duverger leaves us for your city to-morrow. He will hand this 
 letter to you. I was intending to have sent it by Mr. Giles, but our 
 little boy was so weak and required so much nursing that I was too 
 fatigued to finish it. Mr. Giles expects to go to Cincinnati the last of 
 this week. I should like very much to have him bring up your portrait 
 if he feels strong enough to do so. 
 
 Should I get up well from my confinement I think of taking some 
 day boarders this winter, as expenses have been enormous since Mr. 
 Giles's sickness, and though Chauncey says nothing I think he feels 
 sad and troubled. 
 
 -4 86 ^'-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 Do you hear from New York often? It has been a long time since 
 I have written or heard from there. Caroline sends much love. 
 
 In the previous spring Caroline Lakey had come to assist Rowena 
 in the school. 
 
 Wliile Mother thought to sustain Father and lighten expenses he on 
 his part sought, even while ill, to cheer her sadness, for he writes: 
 
 Why do you look so sad, Dearest? Do not think that the sun has 
 departed because a passing cloud obscures his brightness. He will 
 soon reappear and then the present will be as bright as ever. We have 
 a comfortable home, a pleasant room, a few books, and roast apples 
 and chicken broth enough to last until we get more. 
 
 If we do suffer some pain, and if we are not the richest and the 
 handsomest and wisest in the world, why, we are not the poorest nor 
 the ugliest nor the foolishest. If we do have some care, and some 
 pain, and some glimpses of the future which are not quite so bright, 
 we have an alchemy in our hearts which ought to turn more stubborn 
 things tlian these into pure gold. Why, Dearest, have we not almost 
 all things? Wliat have we not? Come, let us comit our negative pos- 
 sessions. We have not so much wealth as Croesus, we are not as wise 
 as Solomon, though I believe we have some things of which he never 
 dreamed. Could he write a letter to his wife when he was lying on the 
 sofa? Did he have any sofa? Could he get any paper? 
 
 We are not as healthy as the New Zealanders, our digestion is not so 
 good as that of the ostrich, but we have some strength left. Why, my 
 Dearest, should tlie past cast a shadow over the present and tlie future? 
 And why should the future reflect back that darkness upon the present 
 and the past. Let not the fear of coming evils create real ones in the 
 present. 
 
 The future has trials for us, no doubt. If it had not, wliere would 
 be our fortitude? It has joys, too, I believe, — many deep and pure 
 joys. So has the present, if we do not throw them away or neglect them. 
 Fear no imaginary lions. Dearest; they are chained. Because you have 
 a good roasted apple to-day which tastes well, do not fear that the 
 next one will be too sour or too bitter or too anything. If you have 
 
 '■*^ 87 ^•~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 pleasures now you will be more likely to find some to-morrow. If one 
 good is taken from us let it go. There are other things as good, prob- 
 ably better. He who takes from us a penny and leaves us a guinea does 
 us a favour. So it may be with us. If we are deprived of one thing it 
 may lead us to pursue and obtain something better. Saul no doubt 
 sorrowed at the loss of his father's asses but he found a kingdom while 
 searching for them. So it may be with us. If we lose riches (of which 
 there is not much danger until we get them) we may find wealth of an- 
 other and better kind. If we have poor health, even, we may find some- 
 tliing infinitely better, a much higher degree of moral excellence. But 
 if we lose all we possess we cannot lose what we are, we cannot lose 
 our love for each other. We cannot lose our immortality if we are 
 good. If we are to suffer pain all our days, as I expect to, every day 
 makes one the less, and at farthest, our change can't be far off, and if 
 we have done well then shall we receive the reward of our doings. 
 Then pain, sorrow, fear, and all anxiety for the future, all regrets for 
 the past, all doubt and pain for the present will be behind us, and we 
 can look forward to eternity without a shadow of anything. All will 
 be bright, joyful, glorious. Cheer up then, my love, — while I eat 
 my supper. 
 
 From Dr. Lakey to Mrs. Giles 
 
 Sept. 2, 1847. 
 
 Your husband spent very little time with me when here in August. 
 
 I fear it will take time to restore his body and mind to the state that 
 
 they were in at the beginning of 1844. I then, in September, " saved 
 
 him so as by fire." His losses by sickness have not exceeded your 
 
 father's losses from the same cause between 1812 and 1818. But 
 
 your father suffered nothing from the dishonesty of a friend. [For ten 
 
 years Mr. Giles struggled to pay debts contracted by endorsing a note 
 
 for an irresponsible friend.] Does the vinegar that I sent you in 
 
 March hold out? You have the casks and can make good vinegar from 
 
 cider or ripe grapes. Your mother made her own vinegar and it was 
 
 always good. She put into the cask her cold tea, which wasteful wives 
 
 always throw away. A wasteful wife! Many an honest man has been 
 
 -<■{ 88 }§e- -
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 ruined by her, has split upon that rock. I have no fears for my nieces 
 
 on that head for, like Ensign 's uncle, " I have full confidence in 
 
 the blood." 
 
 The sixth anniversary of your marriage is near. It ought to be cele- 
 brated by a dinner. Were I near enough I would bring a bottle of wine 
 and join in the festivity. 
 
 After Mr. Giles had recovered sufficiently to reopen his school he 
 writes in his diary: 
 
 Sept. 11, 1847. My sickness has left my mind weak as well as 
 my body; I am very gloomy. The future seems dark indeed, but I 
 shall get along somehow. If I once had firm health! But I must make 
 the best use of what I have. Spiritually, I do not seem to have gained 
 much. The doctrines of the New Church have reached my understand- 
 ing but not my will. Sometimes I have thought I was gaining, but I 
 can hardly tell. 
 
 This letter to Uncle James gives a good account of the autumn's 
 experiences : 
 
 Lebanon, Sept. 24, 1847. 
 
 Being prevented by lameness from going to school to-day, I will 
 spend a part of my leisure in writing to you. 
 
 What you surmised about my leg is true. The sciatic nerve is af- 
 fected, and I am tortured at times with the most excruciating pain; 
 sometimes I can hardly walk across the floor. I had my classes come 
 to my house to-day and recite to me. So my school has gone on as 
 usual. 
 
 On the 19th Eunice was confined by the birth of a daughter. The 
 child (lid not seem to be well from the first and died in twenty hours, 
 making a brief passage through this world of pain and care. Eunice 
 seems to be doing very well. I have never before seen her so strong 
 and look so well under similar circumstances. If nothing unforeseen 
 occurs I think she will get up very well. The rest of llie family is well. 
 We have two boys boarding with us. We have accommodations for 
 four more. If wc could get them we should be much pleased. It is the 
 only way in which anything can be made by teaching in this place. 
 
 -4 89 )S^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Rowena is preparing to go to New Orleans. She spends only half 
 a day in school, and I suppose she will not spend any time before long. 
 The school is so small that I can get along very well with Caroline and 
 John. Elizabeth and Mr. Lillie have given her a very warm invitation 
 to spend the winter with them, and I have advised her to accept the in- 
 vitation. She has led a miserable existence for a long time on account 
 of poor health, and I have thought the experiment of spending a winter 
 in a warmer climate was well worth a trial. 
 
 The diary and letters record the discouragements in connection with 
 the school. It remains for Miss Lakey, who, as in Hamilton, acted as 
 Mr. Giles's assistant, to draw a brighter picture of the school itself. 
 
 Mr. Giles organized a club which met in the long winter evenings 
 and served a good use in the days when books were less common than 
 now, in awakening an interest in historical and literary subjects. Music 
 was an important feature of the meetings, as it was of the school exer- 
 cises. Mr. Giles had a happy way of overcoming the difficulties of 
 writing compositions by asking the children to write descriptions of 
 familiar and interesting things. Their exercises were sometimes given 
 the form of letters to real or imaginary people. 
 
 The school day always began with devotional exercises, — reading 
 from the Word, music and prayer, which was often followed by a little 
 morning talk, which never occupied more tlian five minutes and seldom 
 more than two. A practical suggestion was offered, current events 
 alluded to, or the effects of some historical event were noted. The 
 death of some distinguished man was mentioned, discoveries and inven- 
 tions were spoken of, anything having a tendency to expand and broaden 
 the visible horizon of these active-minded young people was seized and 
 utilized for this purpose. If the children asked hard questions he did 
 not hesitate to say that he did not know but would look into it. 
 
 He took educational journals and kept himself abreast of the times 
 in his work. Methods of interesting his pupils were a constant study 
 witli him. His heart was in his work, and of course from year to year 
 he was constantly perfecting himself in it. 
 
 Very pleasant memories of this school in Lebanon linger in the minds 
 
 -"€{ 90 ^- -
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 of many who there came under Mr. Giles's care. One of his pupils 
 speaks most affectionately of Mr. Giles, and says, " Lebanon has never 
 had a teacher so accomplished as he, nor one whose memory is so 
 warmly cherished." The same friend tells an interesting incident. 
 The Academy was new and the grounds nearly bare of trees. The 
 first spring after going to Lebanon Mr. Giles one day took the boys to 
 the woods with a large wagon and picks and spades. There was much 
 fun among the boys as each took up a tree and planted it on the Acad- 
 emy grounds under Mr. Giles's direction. As the planting was going 
 on Mr. Giles suggested that some day they might come with tlieir chil- 
 dren and sit under the shade of their trees. They were a bright, am- 
 bitious, studious set of scholars, and many of diem have since held 
 positions of trust and influence. One, at least, in fulfillment of Mr. 
 Giles's prophecy, has taken his son to the scene of his own school days 
 and sat with him in the shade of the tree which he planted. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Corwin, the well-known senator, was one of the family 
 friends in Lebanon. In a letter written to Uncle James Mr. Giles de- 
 scribes the effect of his eloquence upon his hearers: 
 
 We have nodiing in our town that is new or interesting. The Demo- 
 crats tried to get up some excitement yesterday by celebrating the anni- 
 versary of the battle of Monterey, but it did not succeed. There were 
 hardly a baker's dozen of them. Mr. Corwin is here occasionally. He 
 made a great speech at the Wliig meeting a short time ago. All who 
 heard it thought it excelled the one he gave in the senate last winter. 
 You may judge something of its power when you know that he kept 
 an audience which had already listened to a speech of two hours, 
 in a densely crowded room with the mercury above eighty degrees, 
 two hours and three quarters, as still as though the fate of every one 
 were hanging on his words. He was very much affected; at times 
 could hardly go on. Governor Bebl), John Woods, L. D. Campbell, 
 and others wlio have become hardened by many years' service in po- 
 litical life, wept like children. I believe Mr. Corwin is earnest in his 
 opposition to tlie war and I think he will be heard from again when 
 Congress is assembled. 
 
 -4 91 ^~ 
 
 ■o'
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 In January Mr. Giles makes the following entries in his diary: 
 
 Lebanon, Jan. 1, 1848. My health has been very poor and I have 
 concluded to give up my school. I cannot do justice to myself or to my 
 scholars. Hardly a week elapses in which I do not have to be out of 
 my school more or less. I have resolved to establish a family board- 
 ing school for boys. I think it will be more profitable and less labori- 
 ous. I can make as much from one boarder at forty dollars a quarter 
 as I can from ten day scholars, so that ten scholars would be as profit- 
 able as ninety. I record this as my conviction here and will next year 
 give the actual result. 
 
 Eimice and myself have joined the New Church. A small society 
 has been formed in this place and we have added our names to the 
 number. This society is small in die world yet, but I believe it is des- 
 tined to meet a want which has long been felt, — a rational religion, — 
 one that will satisfy not only the heart but the understanding. 
 
 It will be of interest to New Church people that the society in Leba- 
 non of which Mr. and Mrs. Giles became members soon after moving 
 to that place was a successor to one of the oldest, if not the oldest, west 
 of the Alleghany Mountains. It was founded by Rev. Thos. Newport, 
 who came to Ohio from Delaware. He was one of those who came 
 into the Church through Miss Barclay, of Philadelphia, after her re- 
 moval to Bedford, Pennsylvania. Mr. Newport was a brother-in-law 
 of Rev. David Powers, Sr. He organized die society in Lebanon under 
 the name of the Turtle Creek Society in 1812, and was ordained by 
 Mr. Powers in 1818. He was also the founder of the Western Associa- 
 tion, the forerimner of the Western Convention. 
 
 In this letter to Dr. Lakey Mr. Giles explains somewhat in detail his 
 position: 
 
 Lebanon, Jan. 23, 1848. 
 
 I do not wish to obtain any day scholars, and I would not care if 
 I did not have more than ten boys the first session — never more than 
 twenty or twenty-five. Fifteen would be a good number, and with that 
 number I am very sure I could clear a thousand dollars a year. 
 
 The house which we are now occupying was sold by the sheriff 
 yesterday and we are warned to leave in two weeks. We can get no 
 
 -'<{ 92 ^'-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 house in town at this time, and I suppose we shall be compelled to pack 
 up our furniture and board for a while. 
 
 Mr. Corwin is friendly. I think he and his family are the warmest 
 friends we have in town. I have never corresponded with him, though 
 I wrote to him some time ago making known my plan and asking for 
 some letters. In his reply he says he " sincerely regrets my determina- 
 tion to leave the Academy," but " necessity in this as in all other like 
 
 cases makes her own law." He gave me a letter to of your city 
 
 and one to a gentleman in New Orleans. The letters were as compli- 
 mentary as I could ask. 
 
 I see only two obstacles to my success now, — health and a house. 
 My health is very poor and is growing worse. I intend to take some 
 active measures for recovery as soon as my school is out. Eunice and 
 the children are better now but have been quite unwell. Caroline will 
 take a class in drawing when the session closes, and when the navigation 
 opens will return to New York. 
 
 The decision to give up the Academy in Lebanon was decidedly op- 
 posed by the relatives, who wrote quite freely expressing their opinions. 
 
 From Miss Rowena Lakey to Mr. Chauncey Giles 
 
 New Orleans, Jan. 9, 18t8. 
 It is with a great deal of anxiety I learn by your last letter that you 
 have nearly determined upon leaving the Academy. Not that I distrust 
 your judgment as to what is right and best, or your ability to carry out 
 your convictions; but I do fear that in a fit of despondency, resulting 
 from your most excruciating pain, you may have been blinded to your 
 own position in Lebanon. I do not believe you or your school has a 
 single opposer that would dare undertake to bring a charge against you 
 or your doings. There are a few families who know they have wronged 
 you, perhaps ignorantly and possibly maliciously. No doubt your 
 prosperity and even presence is an eyesore to them, and they would 
 gladly see you remove from the institution and will come out once in 
 a while and get up some excitement for the accomplishment of that ob- 
 ject. This is to be expected in Lebanon and every other place as long as 
 
 -^ 93 }3^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 human nature is what it is. But you have many and warm friends 
 lliere, those whose good will and esteem have been elicited by your 
 wisdom and goodness. You have passed through the ordeal which 
 prejudice and bigotry prepare for trying and proving strangers, and 
 emerged, I am proud to say, unscathed and triumphant. I consider the 
 decisive battle won. You have earned the confidence and respect of a 
 vast majority of the community, and you have a right now to make it 
 serviceable to yourself and the institution. You ought to be able to 
 gain a comfortable livelihood and somediing more from it. If you 
 cannot I suppose you will be obliged to leave, but any sudden change 
 will be attended with great pecuniary sacrifice of course, and you wiU 
 not expect to realize much more dian a subsistence from your boys' 
 school the first year, even if everything should prove propitious. Would 
 it not be better to retain the Academy for six months or a year and 
 pay rent until you have all suitable arrangements made to commence 
 your private school to advantage? What say Eunice and the rest of 
 the folks to the proposed change? Mr. Corwin is a true friend, I be- 
 lieve, and you have a host of others not less true, not as influential 
 perhaps, but who really appreciate your efforts and wish you success. 
 Northern names will not be as efficient for you here as Southern. No 
 doubt you will do what is for the best, only do not act upon plans made 
 while suffering from one of those dreadful paroxysms. 
 
 My thoughts are with you in Lebanon every day. I mingle with you 
 in the schoolroom and home around the fireside. Do tell me how my 
 classes get along in school. 
 
 In this letter to Mrs. Giles of mingled historical references, advice 
 as to the bringing up of children, together with an offer of sundry mis- 
 cellaneous articles. Uncle James has also his comments to make upon 
 the proposed change of plans: 
 
 Cincinnati, Jan. 8, 1848. 
 
 Yours of Dec. 28th in answer to mine of Dec. 4th was duly received. 
 
 This is an anniversary of the last land battle in the War of 1812. It 
 is actually remembered, and its date duly kept by many of our people. 
 And why? Because certain politicians had an axe to grind and drove 
 
 ™^ 94 ^•-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 this solitary fact into the brains of a bamboozled people in 1828 and 
 1832. No result whatever followed the victory of New Orleans; we 
 could say we had killed the English and that our enemy had got the 
 last kick in the contest. The date of no other battle by sea or land 
 is known at all by our enlightened yeomanry or by our college gradu- 
 ates, — I mean the War of 1812, which lasted until 1815. Quite a 
 portion of our countrymen place the battle of New Orleans after that 
 of Waterloo, among whom may be reckoned a large number of editors. 
 I have been frequently asked by well-dressed young men which battle 
 was first, altliough the date of both battles has been in all tlie almanacs 
 for the last thirty-two years. 
 
 Possibly you may think, "What is that to me? " Much to you, for 
 you are the mother of fine children. Let it be your care that they do 
 not add to the mountain mass of ignorance that overshadows our land. 
 
 My mother and my older sisters first told me of the Revolution. 
 They sowed the seeds which brought forth fruit in after time, when 
 tliey had gone to eternity. 
 
 Mothers can be useful without literature. Your stem Aunt Eunice 
 could not write, and it was said that she could not read, and yet she 
 knew more than many of her sex that could, but did not, read. 
 
 But that iron age has passed away, and individuals like nations can 
 unite high intelligence with iron industry and great strength. 
 
 I have been unfortunate in my efforts to aid you and your sister. In 
 May last I offered to give twenty-five dollars' worth of cabinet furni- 
 ture, but none of my nieces seemed to want any articles in that line, al- 
 though it is said to be thirty per cent, cheaper than in 1841 when your 
 husband made his purchases for you. If a communication had been 
 established between Lebanon and Cincinnati by team I would have sent 
 you the following articles: 
 
 1. A looking-glass, cost S25. 
 
 2. One painting, cost $45. 
 
 3. An ice chest, S5. 
 
 4. A " right smart chance " of China tea, coffee, etc. 
 
 The articles with their prices marked are what they cost me in cash. 
 Now I do not know a single teamster in your good towii except 
 
 -■•«{ 95 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Thomas Corwin the " Waggon Boy," and he has long since laid up his 
 whip. The articles are still kept for your " use and behoof," and for 
 you " to have and to hold." If you had lived in Hamilton I would have 
 sent them by canal at my own expense. Your husband's sickness no 
 doubt prevented his attending to this business. 
 
 I am glad that you and your husband have joined a church. It will 
 extend your acquaintance and gain you friends. I am sorry that the 
 " New Jerusalem " is so small and that it is not likely to increase much. 
 It requires too much study and a more advanced cultivation of intellect 
 than exists at present, to understand its doctrinal mysteries. Its peace- 
 ful maxims are worthy of praise; they are the precepts not of Confu- 
 cius but of a greater, eveh Christ. 
 
 Jan. 9. 
 Chauncey's letter is received and will be answered soon. His board- 
 ing-school plan may succeed, but I fear not in the coimtry. I think he 
 would better stay among men than go into the woods. It will require 
 capital to set a school going in a solitary place. But I must think 
 longer before I can give any valuable advice. 
 
 From the diary: 
 
 It is now evening. I have been up street and down street, have col- 
 lected $8.40 of my old school bills, and have handed in my resignation 
 to the trustees of the Academy. If I fail in my new plan I think it 
 would be well for me to sell everything I have, clear myself of debt, 
 and begin anew. I may yet be able to do something more than make a 
 bare living. I have failed in some respects when I might have avoided 
 it, and I have many tilings in my own mental habits which I ought to 
 reform, and I might change some things in my family with great ad- 
 vantage to them and to myself. I spend too much of my time in read- 
 ing and too little in conversing with my family, and my thoughts dwell 
 too much on my pecuniary affairs, and I have too many fears for the 
 results of my operations. I must try to act more and think less of un- 
 profitable things. Well, a new year is before me, or rather all years 
 are before me. Shall I not act as if the character of them all was in 
 
 -4 96 ^■-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 some measure to be influenced by each act of every day. I have a wife 
 and two children dear to me as life, and I must do all I can to con- 
 tribute to their happiness and permanent well-being. 
 
 Contrary to the agreement made with them when taking charge of 
 the Academy at Lebanon, the trustees now wished to charge Mr. Giles 
 rent for the use of the building. This he refused to pay. As he con- 
 cisely observes in his diary, " The trustees sued me and I beat them." 
 
 Rowena Lakey to Mr. and Mrs. Giles 
 
 New Orleans, April 25, 1848. 
 
 Oh, don't I rejoice in the result of your lawsuit! Are the Leban- 
 onians crazy, or what possesses them? If it is an "evil spirit" I hope 
 you have exorcised it. I can easily imagine that you have not been 
 reposing on a bed of roses for the last few months. The breaking 
 up and removals in the school and at home would be a terrible task 
 under any circumstances, but with the addition of sickness and the 
 spite and malice of a set of bigots, I almost wonder, as I rejoice, at 
 your present good prospects and hope Eunice's indisposition will dis- 
 appear with the anxiety and agitation that I am sure must have been 
 sufficient cause for it. You have the best wishes of us all in your new 
 enterprise, but whether we shall be able to do anything more remains 
 to be seen. I think if I had some of your circulars to distribute they 
 might excite tlic attention of some of our business men who educate 
 their children North and spend their summers there. Have you any 
 scholars engaged in Yellow Springs? You must make the acquaint- 
 ance of the citizens, and as far as possible excite in them an interest 
 in your success. If you had received the hearty cooperation of half 
 of the trustees in Lebanon there is not a school in the state that could 
 compete with you. School teachers cannot be independent of society 
 if they would. That they were never made to live alone is certain. So 
 I would ri'coinnu'tid taking advantage of it and mingle freely with the 
 society of the place at iirst, and nut let first impressions tell of the mis- 
 anthrope or ascetic. 
 
 Elisabeth wishes to know if you do not wish Jack for a scholar this 
 summer. She designs to have Mr. Giles educate him. 
 
 'C
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 In April, 1848, the little family again changes its surroundings and 
 somewhat its manner of life by going to Yellow Springs. Mr. Giles is 
 no longer subject to tlie caprice of dominating trustees, but begins in 
 this lovely village a small home boarding school for boys. Family 
 letters and tlie diary give many details of tlieir life here and of tlie 
 steps which led to it. To the latter we will turn. 
 
 Yellow Springs, April 28, 1848. A few days after my school closed 
 in Lebanon we discontinued housekeeping and commenced boarding 
 
 at Mr. 's. We remained there until the 22nd of April, when we 
 
 removed to this place. My time during the stay there was principally 
 spent in settling my business and getting ready to come here. Some 
 of the time I was in Cincinnati. My health improved some, and I am 
 now able to do much more than when I left my school. The trustees 
 sued me for the rent of the Academy and I beat them. Many hard 
 things were said, but I finally got away and am now making arrange- 
 ments for my new school. 
 
 The interpolation of the following letters gives some additional light 
 upon events which Mr. Giles subsequently notes in his diary: 
 
 To Mrs. Giles from Dr. Lakey 
 
 Cincinnati, June 8, 1848. 
 
 Yours mailed May 8th is now before me. I have delayed answering 
 it until you get warm in the new bed to which you have removed. 
 
 You mistake in saying that I am opposed to " all boarding schools." 
 My remarks applied to those " where females finished their education " 
 and to those alone. A boarding school for boys I have never seen, and 
 of course could give no opinion of its merits. Your Uncle James never 
 gives his opinion blindly or in the dark. Your chances of success 
 seem good, better than most earthly enterprises. But after all, my dear 
 girl, teaching is a very uncertain business, as your own remark shows; 
 you cleared five hundred dollars in Lebanon not by teaching but by 
 boarding and books. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Chapin of Wethersfield, Connecticut, is now eighty- five; 
 in 1811 he told me that teaching would never do to ride double with, 
 
 ~'^ 98 ^'~
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 meaning that it would never support a man with a family. I mentioned 
 this to your husband in 1842, and advised him to seek some surer busi- 
 ness. On the night of Feb. 16th I sat up until twelve to write you a 
 letter, the receipt of which you have not mentioned in yours of May 6th. 
 I also sent a small bundle, the contents of which were described, but 
 have not heard from you whether it was even welcome. Business men 
 say " the smallest favors thankfully received," and perhaps we may 
 learn from them. A friendly letter should always be acknowledged, 
 even if months and years intervene. 
 
 Let me say a few words concerning your eldest child. Perhaps John 
 Wesley's mother would be a good model for you. She did not tell 
 her boys aught of letters until they were five, then put them into the 
 first chapter of Genesis, and in five days young Jack mastered his 
 alphabet and could read. But a girl of four is as old in mind as a boy 
 of five. Wesley was bom north of the parallel of fifty-one degrees 
 and your child on the thirty-ninth degree. The sun ripens men as well 
 as plants. You can judge of the proper time to begin tlie lettered part 
 of Lucy's education. But the moment she can spell be careful not to let 
 her speak any word that she cannot spell. The neglect of this salutary 
 rule has filled our country with barbarians of both sexes, — barbarians 
 in broadcloth and barbarians in silk. Let the child in every case 
 associate words with letters. Let her be taught the right use and 
 the true definition of words. I know of no school unless it be your 
 husband's where this is done. I could say much more, but enough 
 for once. 
 
 Let me have your opinion on this subject. I had your letter before 
 me when writing and recommend you to do the same in writing to me. 
 
 To Dr. Lukcy from Mrs. Giles 
 
 Yellow Springs, July 10, 181fi. 
 Yours of the eighth of June lies before me, and I am much obliged 
 to you for your expressions of interest in our children. They are oppo- 
 site in character but very fond of each other and as smart as most 
 children. 
 
 -•^il 99 }•♦ -
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 The first summer I taught school I had sixteen children in the alpha- 
 bet, but I do not remember that the girls were quicker than the boys of 
 the same age. Mr. Giles thinks they are, and I have noticed it in older 
 pupils. 
 
 As to the uncertainty of teaching, all business so far as my observa- 
 tion goes has its risks. I really do not know how a man — witli a 
 family, one who has devoted his time and money to acquiring the art 
 of teaching and who has a first rate reputation, and who is moreover 
 a man of sense, delicacy, and refinement, one who has had his own way 
 to make in the world without advice, money, or patronage — can do 
 better than stick to his business. 
 
 Not to go out of the family. Father, who has spent years in trying 
 to acquire money in almost every kind of business, in his old age 
 finds himself poor. In Father's family it was always hard times, in 
 fact all work and no play, and I was well grounded in habits of 
 economy. 
 
 I am glad to hear your health is so good. Mr. Giles was thrown from 
 a horse a few weeks ago, and has not entirely recovered. Rowena 
 unites with me in sending her love. If I ever send you another letter 
 I will try to make a better looking one. It was past my bedtime when 
 I commenced. Good night. 
 
 There are no entries in the diary for many montlis, but in the follow- 
 ing letter to Dr. Lakey Mr. Giles gives some account of their life in 
 the interim. 
 
 Yellow Springs, Dec. 27, 1848. 
 
 The mercury stands at ten degrees above zero this morning. I have 
 seven fires in constant operation, and some of the time nine. 
 
 Dec. 29. 
 I was interrupted in the midst of the last sentence by an additional 
 fire. My fireboard had caught and was burning quite briskly. A 
 pitcher of water soon extinguished it and nearly extinguished my 
 letter. 
 
 The little ones are well and grow finely. 
 
 My school continues to increase, and when we get everything ar- 
 
 -"€{ 100 ^ -
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 ranged I think we shall be as well situated as I could wish. But you 
 can hardly conceive how great my expenses have been since I came 
 here and how hard I have worked. There is no danger of my dying 
 from ennui. But I do more than I wish. I engage in my duties cheer- 
 fully, for I believe labor not only to be the lot of man but the best 
 possible thing for him. An eternity of idleness would be either a hell 
 or a state of mental inanition. Activity must be essential to our happi- 
 ness unless we enter a lower order of life when we put off the exuviae 
 of the soul, and I can conceive of no higher happiness than to have 
 every power of the soul called into harmonious activity, in circum- 
 stances where no law of nature or feeling or thought would be violated. 
 I believe such a state is before every well-doer and I cheerfully accept 
 the conditions upon which it is to be obtained. I look to the future 
 without any misgivings or doubts or fears. I expect neither wealth, 
 ease, nor honor in this world, nor any exemption from the cares and 
 trials of life. 
 
 The pathway of life has not been so far entirely free from thorns, 
 and if I have ever shrunk from the future or felt like fainting by the 
 way it was owing to weakness of body more than mind. But I will not 
 boast till I "take the harness off." 
 
 You ask me about my vacation. I do not know when it will come, 
 probably not before March, and then it will be very short. I think 
 I shall be in the city before that time. 
 
 I want to get a teacher of music and French. 1 could give steady 
 employment to one who could teach those branches well, and good 
 wages. I should prefer a lady. If you should hear of any one who 
 would answer my purpose you would be doing me a great favor by 
 letting me know it. 
 
 My successor in Hamilton. 1 understand, is not doing very well. 
 
 I saw from there yesterday and he thought the school was not 
 
 of "much account." I see they are beginning to talk of Mr. Bcbb for 
 governor, or rather for a candidate. I think he would do very well. 
 
 Mr. Giles's letters of this period are signed C. C. Giles. He was 
 named for Commodore Chauncey and when a boy was often called 
 
 -*i 101 )•> -
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Commodore. For many years he signed his letters as above, but 
 eventually dropped tlie Commodore entirely. 
 
 Yellow Springs, Feb. 20, 1849. Wlien we came here I made an 
 entry in my journal but have not made any since. Eunice and 
 I were both quite unwell; we had little or no assistance and be- 
 fore we got our furniture arranged were nearly exhausted. We had 
 received the promise of but two scholars though several gentlemen 
 promised to think of it and write. The day advertised for the school 
 to open was looked to with much anxiety. It came and the cars came, 
 but no boys. Thus we waited for nearly two weeks. Finally one boy 
 arrived. After our patience was exhausted in waiting I went to the 
 city, though I had only ten dollars left, and if I should not get any 
 scholars that was all we had to live upon. I went and returned with 
 four boys. One gentleman paid me fifty dollars in advance and thus 
 we were enabled to live. School opened and all things went on very 
 smoothly. I had five boys, nearly enough to pay my expenses. My 
 own healtli was tolerably good and so was E's. 
 
 About the 20th of May I was thrown from a horse and hurt my hip. 
 It did not immediately trouble me very much, but continued to swell 
 gradually until it was very difficult to get about. In the meantime, 
 about August, my numbers had increased to ten and several more were 
 talking of coming; then my hip and thigh became so painful tliat I 
 could not teach any longer. 
 
 I taught until I could not go to the schoolroom and then I took my 
 boys into the house; afterwards I heard them in bed. 
 
 Finally Miss Lakey offered to take charge of them until I got better. 
 She taught them two weeks but found that she could not get along with 
 them very pleasantly and we concluded to send tliem home, which we 
 finally did. The large muscle on the outside of my leg seemed to be 
 the principal seat of the disease. The doctor tried poultices for some 
 time but found they would not do. He tlien resorted to blisters, but 
 they did not seem to have the desired effect. The doctor advised me to 
 get some other physician. We sent for Dr. Lakey, but before he came 
 Dr. Thorn had probed the swelling, found my leg had suppurated, and 
 
 -4 102 ^'-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 had opened it. This gave me great relief, and from that time I began 
 to recover. For nearly three months I was in constant pain, and much 
 of the time it was very severe. For some weeks I could not turn myself 
 in bed without the most excruciating pain. My nervous powers were 
 nearly exhausted by the constant suffering and I was weak in body and 
 mind. E. was also worn down with anxiety and fatigue. 
 
 The pay for our pupils, some of it received in advance, was sufficient 
 to supply us with means to live, so that we had no anxiety on that score. 
 It has been a season of great trial, and I have had abundant evidence 
 of my weakness. I was determined that I would not give up my school, 
 and I believe I did fight it out to the last. 
 
 Some of my boys had been here but a few weeks and I thought I 
 should not get them again if they went home. But they all came back 
 but two. 
 
 After a vacation of five weeks I began school again with eight schol- 
 ars. My illness had compelled me to defer the winter session until it 
 was so late that most parents had disposed of their children. Indeed 
 the report had been circulated that I did not intend to reopen the 
 school. My health has been tolerably good, and on the whole we have 
 moved along very pleasantly and quietly. We have made some very 
 agreeable acquaintances during the summer and some who seem to 
 take quite an active interest in our welfare. One of them is S. W. 
 
 P y, Esq., of Cincinnati. He brought a son here to place under 
 
 our care and at the same time mentioned that the people of Pomeroy 
 were making preparations for an Academy, and he thought it would 
 be a very good situation. I had not the most remote idea at the time 
 that I should go, but negotiations were opened and I have engaged to 
 go in the spring. My school here will about pay expenses during the 
 year. 
 
 The offer they have made me is the best I have ever had and we hope 
 to be able to make enough to get out of debt and make a good living 
 besides. 
 
 The breaking up of my school was a severe blow to me. It almost 
 seemed to shake my faith in the goodness of Providence and I struggled 
 and murmured. Everything was dark, dark. " All these tilings are 
 
 -4 103 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 against me," I cried, and I felt as though I had made a very serious 
 retrograde movement in spiritual life. This, however, has now passed 
 away and I feel more than ever that it is good for me that I have been 
 afflicted. I have been too discouraged at my want of success in tem- 
 poral diings. I believe that such ideas are now losing tlieir hold upon 
 me, and that those divine realities which constitute the true life of the 
 soul are taking a deeper and stronger hold upon me. A happy change 
 also seems to have taken place in Eunice. She says that she is better 
 pleased witli tlie past, present, and future than ever before. I cannot 
 now record all we have felt and experienced, but I may do so at some 
 future time. 
 
 Feb. 22, 1849. I have been reading the "Life of Dr. Channing" 
 and I feel so abased. I see such an infinite distance between him 
 and myself Uiat I am ready to sink down in despair; and yet he 
 felt in the same way, and his sense of his failures, of his weakness, 
 his sin, was as keen, as painful as mine. It is a slight encourage- 
 ment that I can appreciate such characters to some extent. It shows 
 that I can see. 
 
 Feb. 26. Is it not possible that a man can make perceptible prog- 
 ress in spiritual life every day? Or is our moral nature of such 
 slow growth diat like the oak and the more hardy plants its increase 
 can only be measured by years? 
 
 Warren and Lucy are enjoying themselves as well as youth, health, 
 innocence, and perfect freedom from care will allow them. Both of 
 them seem in the partial eyes of their parents to be very promising. 
 
 March 2. I received a number of the New Jerusalem magazine to- 
 day. I think it will be of much service in keeping alive my interest in 
 spiritual subjects. 
 
 How strange it is that we should be disinclined to do diat which we 
 know will be for our own spiritual good! How sad that we who have 
 the gift of looking before and after should be so prone to take up with 
 a mess of pottage instead of our celestial birthright! But we all do it 
 to some extent. If we could only bring the will and the understanding 
 in harmony what a glorious thing it would be! A Sabbath of rest in- 
 deed! But we are so evil, so changed are our forms from their bright, 
 
 — *3{ 104 ^'-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 celestial beauty, and these changes have become so organized, that it 
 must take a long time before we can get into harmony with the Lord 
 and with the principles of nature. 
 
 One of the greatest difficulties in keeping a journal is the barrenness 
 of the events which one has to record. It ought not to be so, perhaps, 
 for if well kept it should be the record of one's inner life. Yet how few 
 have any history worth recording even to themselves! What would a 
 shoemaker's journal be, but a record of the number of pegs he had 
 driven or the stitches he had taken, unless besides the mechanical pro- 
 cess there was an inward life worth recording? Small events are often 
 of great importance to us. It is the last drop which makes the cup 
 run over. When the scale is nearly balanced a grain makes it turn. 
 
 I have been reading in the life of Swedenborg. I know of no one 
 in the annals of history who ever went to work so systematically and 
 steadily to publish his doctrines, and who seemed to await with so little 
 concern or with so much faith for the time when they should be received. 
 It did not seem to be his object to build up an edifice but to lay the 
 foundation. Like the husbandman he cast his seed into the ground and 
 awaited with cheerful confidence the time when it should take root and 
 bear fruit. 
 
 March 3, 1849. This morning I received a letter from the Rev. 
 J. P. Stuart in which he announced his intention to visit us again soon. 
 He has hinted several times that I would sometime preach New Church 
 doctrines. 
 
 If I were free from debt and qualified I should like nothing better. 
 But I am neither and so I can do nothing at present. My intellectual 
 culture has been too meagre and my hai)its of thought and reading too 
 desultory to enable me ever to be an able expounder of the doctrines of 
 the New Church. But if I were going to preach at all I would wish to 
 preach them — they are so consistent with the nature of man and them- 
 selves. There seems to be no weak point in them. They meet every 
 want of the human heart, they embrace every idea that is rational ron- 
 cerning God and the spiritual world, and embrace in iheir noble phi- 
 losophy every atom of matter. 
 
 One beautiful feature of these doctrines is that they bring our 
 
 -♦•{ 105 )■>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Heavenly Father near in every object of the universe. The beautiful 
 and wonderful objects which lie around us on every side are no longer 
 merely wonderful and beautiful, but diey are tokens of the love and 
 wisdom and power of Him Who hath all power and Who is Love Itself. 
 
 The flower has an additional charm, — God's love smiles to us 
 through its beauty. We breathe it in the grateful fragrance, we hear 
 it in the ten thousand harmonies which swell and die away upon tlie 
 air. Oh that I could keep alive this feeling that it might grow and 
 become more active and constant in its operations, until I could see 
 notliing in the unmarred works of God which did not remind me of 
 Him Who made me to be happy, and Wlio arranges all the workings 
 of His providences to bring us into conjunction with Him! 
 
 Have I made any progress to-day? I fear not. There is a strange 
 feeling hanging over me; I cannot describe it. Eternal realities con- 
 stantly press upon my mind and yet I fear they do not have the influ- 
 ence they ought. Good thoughts are notliing only as they lead to good 
 actions. Use is full of good. Am I of any use? That is the question. 
 It seems to me that it must be very small. But am I not capable of 
 doing more than I have ever done? Yes, yes, I am sure I am. Oh, 
 had I improved my time as I might, what could I have accomplished! 
 
 If my children should ever see this, let them take warning before the 
 best of life is wasted, and be diligent, active, persevering, brave, ener- 
 getic in overcoming every obstacle. Then may they be of some use 
 in their day and generation, and be saved from the bitter regrets of 
 those who have wasted their strength in useless retrospections or in 
 vain and idle thoughts. God help me at this late day to overcome my 
 sloth and stupidity and improve even the eleventh hour. 
 
 His children have indeed read the above, but not as their father 
 thought have they received it as a " terrible warning." The idea of 
 him in that capacity seemed almost ludicrous. We read it with smiles, 
 and thought instead of the noble example he has been to us continually. 
 
 Yelloiv Springs, March 6, 1849. Yesterday General Taylor was in- 
 augurated, and his inaugural was printed in Cincinnati yesterday and 
 sent here to-day. Such is the triumph of modem genius and art. The 
 
 -4 106 )ee-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 telegraph has annihilated space. We can now talk with those who are 
 thousands of miles from us, and by means of railroads and steam- 
 boats we can soon traverse the whole length of our land. If our moral 
 progress kept pace with our physical we should be a better race than 
 was ever beheld on the earth since the days of Adam. But it will be a 
 very long time before we shall arrive at this height of perfection, yet 
 the way is preparing and the time will come. Can I do nothing to help 
 bring near that glorious day when all shall know the Lord? 
 
 This morning one of my boys received a letter from his father say- 
 ing that he could not go to Pomeroy with me to school. He seemed 
 very much disappointed and wrote a lettedmmediately, expressing a 
 strong wish to change his father's decision. This has depressed me all 
 day, so little confidence have I in the government of a Divine Providence. 
 Everytliing frightens me. Oh that I could trust Him implicitly, whatever 
 men may say or do! What matters it whether we have much or little in 
 tliis life! The main thing is to do our duty, to eradicate from our hearts 
 the love of self and the world. If we were constantly impressed with the 
 thought that we are acting for eternity, and that the happiness and 
 blessedness of that eternity must depend upon the characters we form 
 here, how would all other interests fade into nothing compared with 
 this. What if we gain the whole world and lose our own soul! Wliat 
 a work have I to do before I can gain my freedom from these bonds of 
 sin, of evil habits, of false principles and views of life. Work! work, 
 toil, and tliat against yourself, apparently. When the whole world 
 goes rushing along, mad after honor; to be calm and to possess your 
 soul in patience; to resist your own inclinations and the influences of 
 the world around you; to think and be satisfied that you are doing well 
 when you are laying up nothing of tliis world's goods, providoil you 
 are resisting your own inclinations to evil and are striving to do right 
 — who can do it? I feel every day as if I made no progress, but if 
 I resist the disposition to evil, if I go not back, I do something. Rut I 
 would be free from this constant struggle, this unremitting warfare. 
 I would fain have a Sabbath of rest. Wlien will it come? Not until 
 I have overcome myself. 
 
 I read a book called "Reed on the Growth of the Miiui." wliich I 
 
 ~4 107 )3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 very much admire. It contains many beautiful and noble thoughts 
 and I trust I shall profit by it. It would be an interesting thing if we 
 could tell exactly what effect any book has upon our views and opin- 
 ions, what aliment it furnishes to our mental growth. 
 
 March 16, 1849. Wednesday afternoon Mr. Stuart and Mr. Espy 
 came to make us a visit from tlie Twenty-Mile Stand. Mr. Stuart 
 preached in the evening, in the schoolhouse, to a very good audience, 
 on the Resurrection. Last evening he preached on the Atonement, 
 So far as I have heard all except the most zealous Methodists were 
 pleased with what he said. They listened very attentively, and I trust 
 they obtained some truths which may be of some use to them in life. 
 I presume many will think the New Church doctrines not quite so ex- 
 travagant and absurd as they supposed. 
 
 I have had a very pleasant time. I have enjoyed Mr. Stuart's society 
 very much. We have conversed upon various matters, ranging from 
 the lowest points of science to the highest of philosophy. I have had 
 no school and the boys have enjoyed the holiday. Mr. S. presented 
 me with a copy of " Noble's Lectures." I shall prize them much. 
 
 Surely there is great pleasure and profit in exchanging views with 
 tliose who are intelligent and whose thoughts harmonize with ours some- 
 what. I have obtained many brighter and clearer views from our 
 conversation. 
 
 The thought occurred to me to-day that every one shows clearly how 
 much he desires to go to heaven by the efforts he makes to get there. 
 Many pray loudly that God will save them, but they do not cultivate 
 their affections and perform those uses in which heaven consists, and 
 they have no pleasure in them. Wliat, then, is the heaven which they 
 wish? Do they not want to be saved in their sins and not from them? 
 
 I began to-day to read " Heaven and Hell." I find it very interest- 
 ing. What a wonderful book! The wildest romance could not be so 
 interesting. 
 
 March 19, 1849. Yesterday I went to church and the Presiding 
 Elder preached. He spoke very well, but the great mistake is, he like 
 others wants to make Christians in a moment. " Get religion," is the 
 term they use, as though religion was anything that could be obtained 
 
 -4 108 ^'-
 
 LEBANON AND YELLOW SPRINGS 
 
 as we can obtain money or food. Religion, it has been well said, is a 
 life. The house was crowded and there was some attempt to get up 
 an excitement, but I do not think it will succeed. 
 
 I began reading one of tlie posthumous tracts of Swedenborg on the 
 " Infinite," and it bears evidence of a greatness of mind that I have 
 never seen before. We can judge better by this tlian by his theological 
 works, because here we can compare him with others. The tract was 
 about as interesting to me as any novel I ever read, and I think I shall 
 derive much benefit from it. 
 
 March 20, 1849. I do not feel much like work in anything. Change 
 has always affected me in this way. I never feel as if I could carry 
 out my business square to the end when I expect to make a great change 
 soon. This is not as it should be. I find I need application of new 
 stimulus every day to keep me faithful and active. I fear I am one of 
 those who work too much from necessity and not enough from principle. 
 I must try to improve in this respect. 
 
 March 24. I have been reading "Noble's Lectures" and some of 
 Swedenborg's tracts. Tlie more I read tlie more I am amazed, the more 
 every created thing seems to rise in importance, and the Infinite and 
 Holy One seems to be brought nearer and nearer to view. I seem to 
 myself to be getting glimpses of higher and nobler truths, of views of 
 the Lord and life that will have an important effect upon me during 
 my whole existence. As these new truths beam forth to view they seem 
 so wonderful that I am sometimes tempted to think they cannot be 
 true. And yet I feel that they must be, or the whole of life is a vain 
 dream and mockery. May my faith grow stronger, my views of truth 
 clearer and brighter, that I may know Him Whom to know aright is life 
 eternal. 
 
 I have spent most of the day in reading " Noble's Lectures." They 
 are full of thought and I do not see how the reasoning can be met or 
 refuted, and yet tliere are not many who will receive tlie Doctrines at 
 present. The good Methodists of this place seem horrified at the 
 thought that they may prevail. They call them a species of modern 
 infidelity, though on what tliey ground their charge it would be diflicult 
 to say. 
 
 -4 109 |3^
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I consider it the greatest blessing of my life that I became ac- 
 quainted with them. They have removed the darkness which enveloped 
 many subjects and have made them a matter of reason, when hereto- 
 fore they were only cognizant to the eye of faitli. And they have done 
 more than this. They have presented the Lord in such a light that the 
 whole universe has become radiant with His love. Oh, tliat that love 
 may so penetrate my heart and my affections tliat I may constantly be- 
 come a holy and living sacrifice, acceptable to Him Whose love is un- 
 changeable, and constantly exercised towards all His creatures! 
 
 Yellow Springs, April 1, 1849. Yesterday my school closed and the 
 boys went home. I feel as if a very great load of anxiety and care was 
 removed from me. Everything seems so still and quiet. I am not con- 
 stantly feeling as if some of them might be in mischief. 
 
 This winds up another year of labor and completes a cycle in my 
 existence. 
 
 We expect soon to make preparations to remove to Pomeroy. On 
 the evening of the 30th of March E. was taken ill and we have many 
 fears about her. If she should be confined by a long sickness it would 
 seem to be very unfortunate, as we wish to remove in two weeks 
 from this place. But it may be the very best tiling for us to be pre- 
 vented from leaving now. We cannot tell, so we will try to make the 
 best of our situation, knowing that nothing of a very serious nature can 
 result from it if we rely firmly upon Divine Providence, and trust im- 
 plicitly to the Infinite Love of our Heavenly Father. Eunice seems very 
 calm and composed, and I trust she will be sustained in whatever trial 
 she may be called upon to bear. 
 
 April 12, 1849. Since writing I have done nothing but wait. 
 The time has passed away very slowly, not to say unpleasantly. I 
 have been expecting letters every day, but none have arrived. It seems 
 very essential that we should know something more definite about our 
 future operations than we do. Several gentlemen are owing me money 
 also, and I do not see how we can get along unless they send it, but 
 it does not come. 
 
 -<i 110 ^'-
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 POMEROY 
 
 JT OMEROY, April 23, 1849. It is a long time since I have made an 
 entry in ray journal and many events important to us have transpired. 
 The day after I last wrote we began to pack up our goods. They were 
 put aboard the cars on Wednesday evening tlie 18th and E. and I with 
 
 the children went to Mr. 's to wait for the train. Eunice was quite 
 
 unwell, and we began to fear that she would be confined before we 
 went over, and it was not long before all our fears were confirmed. 
 About two o'clock of the 19th she was delivered of a boy who lived 
 but an hour. Nothing apparently could be more adverse to our inter- 
 ests or more unfortunate. But dear E. bore it with wonderful fortitude 
 and composure. She surprised us all by her resignation and self- 
 control. She seemed to be comfortable the next day, and as our fur- 
 niture was on the cars and must be either unloaded or go on, it was 
 thought best that I should leave her in Rowena's care and go on with it. 
 
 April 24. Arrived at Pomeroy at about twelve o'clock. I was very 
 kindly received by our friends here and was invited by Judge Irving to 
 lodge at his house and take breakfast and tea witli him. 
 
 I found the work on the house had been very much delayed by a 
 slide in the land and the prospects looked very discouraging. My 
 goods came on the 27th and on the 28th I put part of the furniture 
 into tlie house. I remained in Pomeroy until the eighth of May, when 
 I left to meet Eunice and the family. I had all along received very 
 encouraging accounts from her. 
 
 We were accommodated with board at Mr. 's and stayed there 
 
 until the 18th of June, when we moved into our home and began school. 
 Our numbers were much larger than we expected and tlie school on the 
 whole has been very prosperous. Up to the present time we have 
 taught two quarters and four weeks, wiUi only one week's vacation. 
 
 --gf 111 }3^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 We have had eight boys to board with us for some time past. We went 
 through tlie trying scenes of the cholera without any sickness in our 
 family of much account. E's health has been tolerably good and so 
 has mine, and we are much pleased with our situation, much better 
 than we have been with any previous one. 
 
 The following letters were written during Mrs. Giles's illness in 
 Yellow Springs. 
 
 To C. Giles from his wife 
 
 Yellow Springs, April 25, 1849. 
 
 Your very good letter came this morning and found me better than I 
 have ever been before at the same time. The doctor was just in and 
 says if I continue to get on so well I may start next week. I can hardly 
 realize it, but feel elated in prospect of so soon being able to join you. 
 
 The doctor thinks by avoiding tlie night air we can safely leave 
 sooner. We have therefore concluded to visit Mr. Espy's and stay a 
 day or two and then take the morning train. 
 
 Bub has chills yet. Lucy enjoys having children to play with very 
 much. I suffer a good deal with that old pain in my face and ear. 
 Your letters cheer me very much. 
 
 To C. Giles from Roivena Lakey 
 
 We intend to leave the Springs the last of next week if nothing pre- 
 vents, — go to Grandpa Espy's on the three o'clock train and stay over 
 the Sabbath, tlien take the morning train for the city and go directly 
 from the depot to the 11 o'clock packet. So you may put your house 
 in order. N. B. Look well to the larder. We shall patronize that 
 pretty extensively, I 'm thinking. Perhaps you would better send us 
 the means for removal as soon as convenient, that we may not be de- 
 layed longer than is necessary. If you can suggest any improvement 
 on our plans please let us know. 
 
 The doctor says Eunice may try getting out of bed to-morrow. She 
 sits up in bed while eating. I suppose you are hardly prepared for a 
 letter in her own hand. It is remarkable how well and strong she is. 
 
 -'4i 112 ^'~
 
 POMEROY 
 
 To Mrs. Giles from her husband 
 
 April 29, 1849, Sat. eve. 
 
 It is now just a week since I heard from you. I was so much dis- 
 appointed last night when no letter came that I almost determined 
 to get into the steamboat and make you a visit. I am in two places 
 all the time, — here in body, with you in spirit. I talk and laugh 
 with the others, and while they are telling stories I am with you and 
 the children. 
 
 But I will give an account of myself. Friday I did not do much of 
 
 anything but wander aroimd. Yesterday I took dinner with Mrs. , 
 
 when I saw rather more style than I have seen before in this place. We 
 had a piece of roast pork and a boiled ham, asparagus, and a very nice 
 pudding, silver forks, etc. Mr. Charles Pomeroy and Judge Irving 
 were present with me and we had a very pleasant time. After dinner 
 I commenced moving my furniture from the river to the house. We 
 did not finish unlil night. To-morrow I shall get all our things into 
 the Ark. 
 
 This morning I took a long walk with Judge Irving on tlie hilltops 
 above the river. I will not try to describe the scene. You will soon be 
 here and then you will see it for yourself. 
 
 I went to the Episcopal Church. We had a very respectable sermon; 
 I believe I did not hear much of it. I was away in the spirit. A strange 
 feeling of loneliness and sadness came over me. Spectres from the 
 gloomy past came thronging around me, and that loneliness of feeling 
 which seems to sweep over me and shut me out from all fellowship 
 with my kind almost overmastered me. That old feeling of unfitness 
 for intercourse with my fellows haunts mc when I am away from you; 
 it sweeps over me and shuts out every fair and beautiful thing in life. 
 
 Oh, what do I not owe to you! Rugged ami thorny as has been our 
 path since we were married, I date my happiness, my all of life that is 
 worth naming, from that hour. Hardly a day passes that I do not feel 
 like prostrating myself before our dear Heavenly Father to thank Him 
 for you and the dear little ones. 
 
 While I was ascending the liill tliis morning with Judge Irving, the 
 
 ~«i 113 ^>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 sky cloudless, the air pure as if it were a fresh breath from our Father, 
 the birds singing because tliey could not help it, the flowers looking up 
 from their winter hiding places with such simple, confiding beauty, I 
 tliought of you and the dear little ones, especially of the three little 
 cherubs in heaven. The tears would stream forth, but they were not 
 tears of sorrow or sadness, but ratlier of gratitude and joy. I thought 
 of those little ones, — how they had escaped all life's trials and sor- 
 rows, all its impurities and sins; how they would grow up under the 
 blessed influence of angelic purity, to be themselves angels, always 
 happy, with no dangers, no drawbacks; I felt that it was a blessed thing 
 to have been the instruments of giving existence to those who will ever 
 be happy, and I could not but thank our Heavenly Father for His love 
 to us in this respect. 
 
 I had to break away from tliis train of thought and talk of pastures, 
 fences, and lands. 
 
 I took dinner with Mr. H. The more I see of the society here the 
 better I like it. I think it will do us all good, and I doubt not it is 
 wisely ordered that we decided to come here. I think we shall find the 
 kind of social influence and feeling here that will be the means of help- 
 ing us farther on. They treat me with great kindness and attention, 
 and as far as I can judge I have made a favorable impression upon 
 them, though this I cannot tell positively. They are looking out for a 
 maid or maids for you and I think they will do everything in their 
 power to make your residence here pleasant. I think it is exactly tlie 
 place for Rowena and I regard it as a special Providence that she is 
 coming. I think that she will be appreciated, and there is a very pretty 
 class of girls that she will have for scholars — kind-hearted, polite, im- 
 affected, innocent girls, and some of them beautiful withal. 
 
 Wlien you are able, Dearest, you will write to me, but not before; 
 I shall be so glad to hear from you. Oh, how glad I am to hear that 
 you are recovering and will soon be well enough to come! And shall 
 I not be glad to see you and the dear little ones! Ah, Babies, would 
 that I could kiss you to-night. Be good children and do as Mother and 
 Auntie tell you, and in a few days I shall see you, I trust. Now I must 
 bid you all good night.
 
 POMEROY 
 
 My anxiety for you is so intense that it seems as if I could not stay 
 here; tliat I must be with you. If it were not that I am afraid that we 
 shall be much cramped for money before the close of our first quarter, 
 I would come and remain with you until the house was ready and then 
 we would come on together. But I suppose I ought not to distrust you 
 so. You will exercise your judgment and good sense. 
 
 In another letter to Mrs. Giles her husband writes: 
 
 PoMEROY, May 4, 18^19. 
 
 I am better and better satisfied with life every day. It seems as 
 though I could look up with joyful eyes to our Heavenly Father, even 
 under the most untoward circumstances. It affords me great pleas- 
 ure, I cannot tell you how much, that you have borne our present 
 trials with so much fortitude and hope. 
 
 Delightful visions of the future cheer me amid every trial and dis- 
 appointment; visions not of wealth, splendor or honor in this life, but 
 of getting into the harmony of things, of removing all obstacles to the 
 full reception of our Father's infinite love. If there is a remote pros- 
 pect, a faint glimpse of that, surely it is enough to render all the cares 
 and disappointments of life insignificant. 
 
 Have no fears for me. Dearest, while you and the children are left 
 to me. 
 
 A great variety of boats pass here every day. Yesterday one went 
 down stream loaded from the top to die bottom witli emigrants to Cali- 
 fornia. You can stand on the porch of our house here and see the boats 
 go up and down the river and see the children playing in the town 
 below, and you can see old Virginia too. 
 
 To Miss Rowena Lakey from C. Giles 
 
 PoMEROY, May 5, 1849. 
 
 The top o' the morning to you. How do you do? Have you a bad 
 
 headache? And does everything around, above, and below, look 
 
 blue? The world seems to be doing her best to be entertaining and she 
 
 has succeeded very well. The people here are ready to give us a warm 
 
 -4 115 }g^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 reception. Here you will find some living souls, and I predict that 
 you will be pleased and say that it was well that we came. 
 
 Oh, will it not be pleasant to look around and say " There goes a 
 man or woman who estimates our characters by what we are, and not 
 by our creeds, who can look through tlie shows and forms of things at 
 the reality." 
 
 Let us accept cheerfully the present inconveniences which we have 
 met and look joyfully toward the future. 
 
 Adolph and I expect to clean house next week, and when we finish 
 we shall be very happy to receive a call from Mrs. Giles and Miss Lakey 
 and the children. I do not know that we can promise you anything very 
 luxurious in the way of entertainment, but you shall have some bread 
 and butter, and if you will bring your lea with you, a cup of tea. If 
 you want any exercise you may climb the rocks back of the house. Or 
 you may sit on tlie porch and look over die houses into the river and at 
 the hills beyond. You may listen to the music of the birds and of 
 children as it comes up from below, or you may do whatever you please. 
 Is not that liberal enough? If it is not, please to help yourself to lib- 
 erty. Ho! Ho! I say to myself, we shall be together again soon and 
 my heart bounds at Uie thought like a horse impatient of his rider. 
 It does not seem to me now that I could live long away from my family. 
 I am sure I would not for all the wealth of California. I hope you will 
 write to me. A letter is better than gold. 
 
 To Mrs. Giles from her husband 
 
 PoMEROY, May, 1849. 
 Yours of April 25th came safely to hand last night. It made me 
 very glad, and very sad, — glad to hear that you are getting along so 
 well, and sad that you run such risks by sitting up so soon. I expect 
 you will get down again. I tremble every letter I open from you lest 
 I find confirmation of my fears. It is so safe to wait a little and be 
 careful, and so rash and dangerous to be in too much of a hurry, that 
 I wonder you will not wait. 
 
 You have doubtless received long before this my letter which informs 
 
 -4 116 ^-
 
 POMEROY 
 
 you of the backsets and the downslips encountered in repairing the 
 Academy. But little progress has been made since I came here. 
 
 Yesterday Mr. Horton surveyed the premises and took the manage- 
 ment of matters into his own hands, and the work moves more rapidly. 
 But it is a sad-looking place, and I don't want you to see it until it 
 appears more inviting. I have no expectation that it will be com- 
 pleted until the first of Jime, though doubtless we can get iiUo it before 
 that time. 
 
 The ground above the house is full of deep fissures made by the slip; 
 the surface is covered with huge rocks and timbers; the cellar is filled 
 with earth and large stones; the plastering in the rooms above is much 
 cracked. Two of tlie chimneys have tumbled down; there is a work- 
 bench in the parlor and tlie house is full of shavings and lumber. 
 What tliink you? Do the prospects of housekeeping seem very bright? 
 
 As I wrote you in my last, you need be in no hurry, though I think 
 we shall be able to get into the house as soon as you ought to move. 
 Does it not seem strange that I should try to persuade you not to rome 
 to me when I would give my eyes almost to see you and the children and 
 Rowena? But I tliink it would be no pleasanter for you here than it 
 is at the Springs. Doubtless, too, you would have a great many calls 
 from strangers and perhaps would try to return them. But I leave you 
 to do just what you think best. We can get board here, and if you 
 would prefer this, come as soon as you feel able. I would come after 
 you if I could, but I am getting very short of money and I must deny 
 myself the privilege. 
 
 You recollect, my dear, how we used to talk about the difficulties of 
 getting here and how wonderful it would be if everylliing should work 
 right. Some unexpected difficulties have presented themselves and a 
 much more severe trial of our patience and trust in a kind Providence 
 than we expected. But after all it is of but little consequence. We can 
 wait. The time will soon pass away and we shall once more be settled 
 in a quiet home, our dear ones all around us and, I hope, business 
 enough to afford us a decent support. I doubt not we shall enjoy it 
 very much. 
 
 Above all the fogs and clouds of earth the future looks bright and 
 
 -.4m ]s^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 glorious to me. If we are what we ought to be, we shall become what 
 we wish to be. And tlie dear children — how my interest in them in- 
 creases and my love for them grows more intense! May they become 
 what they are capable of being, intellectual enough, but above all may 
 they be good. Dear ones, how often I think of you! 
 
 Poor little Bub still shakes. Oh, ho, my little boy, get up on Father's 
 knee and let us see if we can shake off the shakes. And Sissy too, ^ — 
 come, let us have a romp. We will go to the top of the hill and get 
 some pretty flowers and see the river and the steamboats and the houses 
 and hills beyond. 
 
 Yesterday I took tea and dinner at Mr. H 's and spent the even- 
 ing at Mr. S 's. There were a few ladies there, and we sang and 
 
 chatted until after ten o'clock. They are just beginning to learn music 
 here and tliey are quite enamoured of it. I sang the bass to a few 
 tunes, and they said at once that I was just the man they wanted in the 
 choir. But I expect I am just the man they won't get. 
 
 Mrs. S has a fine piano and plays very well. Tliey have a small 
 
 organ in the Episcopal Church. The church was dedicated the day I 
 arrived here. It is small and plain. The congregation is not large 
 but comprises the Pomeroy tribe principally. 
 
 After some favorable comments upon various new acquaintances 
 Mr. Giles says: 
 
 I have never seen so much real affection and good feeling exhibited 
 by connections and relatives. I think we shall derive much benefit by 
 association with them. If I am not deceived you and Rowena, and 
 myself too, will find the society here more congenial to our tastes and 
 feelings than any in which we have ever mingled. I have found more 
 books here that were according to my taste than I have ever seen out- 
 side of a bookstore in Ohio. But I have come to the end of my sheet. 
 Kiss the babies for me. 
 
 PoMEROY, May 6, 1849. 
 
 I received your kind letter dated the 30th last evening. It takes 
 five days to get a letter from the Springs, nearly as long as it 
 does from Boston. I must have written you a very gloomy letter
 
 POMEROY 
 
 when I first arrived and I am sorry, but I wrote as I felt. Things did 
 look discouraging, and then I was very tired. I also met with some 
 things in Cincinnati which did not increase my equanimity. But I 
 have written you about all tliese matters before and need not repeat 
 them. If we all live we shall soon be settled in our new home, our dear 
 family once more united not soon to part again, I hope. 
 
 It has been a dark rainy day but I have been quite happy. You have 
 been with me and we have had a delightful season of intercourse with 
 each other and with the dear children. The past, too, has come up 
 before me, not in the darkness which once enveloped it but radiant with 
 the light of your love. 
 
 We have indeed seen many a dark hour, the billows have gone over 
 us. A flaming sword which shut us out from our Eden was brandished 
 in every pathway, but it was wielded by a good angel to keep us from 
 evil ways. All that we have lost is as nothing compared with what we 
 have gained. 
 
 I thought this morning I would tell you how I felt, how happy I am 
 in the present and in the hopes for the future. But somehow I cannot 
 say what I would or as I would. I thought I would tell you what I 
 owed to you; how much your goodness and love have done to win me 
 from dark thoughts, to purify my heart from bad passions and in every 
 way to make me a better man, and how every thought and feeling, every 
 hope of the future and every joy of the present is indissolubly con- 
 nected with you. But I cannot; no words that I can command will 
 express what I feel. It seems as if what I would say but cannot has 
 been growing upon me for months. Well, let it be unsaid. May every 
 action hereafter have a thousand tongues to tell you what I mean. 
 
 I feel that my illness last summer was a great blessing to me. How 
 dark it was to me then! How I struggled against it! I thouglit I could 
 not have it so. Did it not seem to us as if our very lives depended 
 u|)()n the success of our school? Upon making a little money? How 
 differently I feel now! Desirable as it really is that we should get out 
 of debt, I feel that there is a higher good llian llial: I have ceased to 
 have that intense and corroding anxiety about it. I have no fear iiut 
 we shall be able to do all we wish in that respect here. 
 
 -«(119}.>.-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I can echo all you have said to me about trusting in the goodness of 
 our Heavenly Father. He is good. Goodness itself. His love is in- 
 finite. He is Love itself. I know it; I feel it in a way that I never did 
 before. All our disappointments and delays will be for our good. 
 I am not gloomy or desponding. I feel at times a great anxiety for you, 
 but I know that you too are in the same kind loving Fatlier's keeping 
 and I have no cause to fear. 
 
 Let the love which we bear to each other and to our children, im- 
 perfect and feeble as we are, teach us how great and pure is His love 
 for us. Then we shall have no cause to doubt or to fear for the future. 
 No evil thing can happen to us if we are true to Him. 
 
 Our friends here are very kind to me. 
 
 The first thing Mr. Horton said to his wife after he came home from 
 Cincinnati was, when he heard how much they had been delayed by the 
 slide, " Is Mr. Giles discouraged? " You will rejoice, I know, to learn 
 that I have found more congeniality of feeling and tastes here than 
 anywhere in Ohio. Yes, I may say anywhere, and I think it will be the 
 
 same with you. I think you will love Mrs. and Mrs. not 
 
 only because they are kind to me but because they are lovable. 
 
 I hope you will write to me every day if you are not too tired. You 
 can judge by your own feelings when you get a letter from me how 
 much pleasure it affords me to hear from you. How good it is when 
 I go to the Post Office after the mail comes in always to find a letter! 
 I thank you. Dearest, for them all. Surely the people at the Springs 
 are very kind. It is cheering to know that we are regarded with 
 so much interest. I hope your stay there will not be altogether 
 impleasant. 
 
 I have nothing new to write in relation to the Academy. I think the 
 principal part of the work will soon be completed, and I have no doubt 
 I shall have the pleasure of meeting you in it next week. 
 
 Kiss the dear children for me. I have never had those who are ab- 
 sent appear so really present as you all are to-day. 
 
 As Mr. Giles had predicted, life in Pomeroy was more agreeable to 
 him and his wife than any they had previously experienced since their 
 
 -4. 120 ^'-
 
 POMEROY 
 
 marriage. The school was large and successful, they had congenial 
 friends who added much to their social pleasures, and, as always, the 
 home life was happy. 
 
 Their house, the old Pomeroy mansion situated on a bluff overlook- 
 ing the town and river, is the " Ark " of which mention is made in 
 some of the letters. The lower rooms of the house were reserved for 
 the school, which was both for boarding and day pupils, and some of 
 the time Mrs. Giles had a household of fifteen. 
 
 At about this time Mr. Giles, always open to new truth, became con- 
 vinced of the efficacy of homeopathy. When the cholera raged in the 
 town and people were dying off like flies, Mrs. Giles, to whom homeo- 
 pathic remedies were administered by her husband, was the first person 
 in the town to recover. 
 
 Impressed by this circumstance Dr. Lakey, who had been summoned 
 from Cincinnati to attend tlie sick, came to Mr. Giles and said, '" Chaun- 
 cey, I have a very sick patient. I am sure die man cannot be cured but 
 I would like to try some of the medicines which you gave Eunice." He 
 did so, and the man got well. 
 
 Reference is made in some of the family letters to a rival school, 
 the establishment of which necessarily incurred some pecuniary loss 
 to Mr. Giles. Notwithstanding, he pursued the even tenor of his way 
 and constantly tried to improve his methods of teaching and to afford 
 better educational advantages to his pupils. The visit to the Teachers' 
 Convention at Cleveland throws light on one of his efforts to improve 
 in his profession, and he also visited Cincinnati in order to study 
 French with a view to teaching it. Many years later the writer had 
 the same French teacher who then gave Mr. Giles instruction. He said 
 tliat Mr. Giles learned more French in the time he allotted for its study 
 tlian any one he ever saw. 
 
 Through all the circumstances and changes of Uie life in Pomeroy 
 a double thread was woven — the constant endeavor to improve in what 
 then seemed to be his chosen profession, and an ever-deepening interest 
 in the doctrines of the New Church. To one of Mr. Giles's tempera- 
 ment this interest was inseparable from efforts to be of use in the 
 church. At first he was asked to read the sermons of others to the 
 little groups of New Church people settled in Pomeroy and the neigh- 
 boring small towns. On one occasion, being unable to find a suitable 
 discourse, he wrote a sermon himself. The text was from Revelation. 
 " And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of tlie nations." This 
 was received with such favor that he continued to write, with many 
 
 -4 121 }■>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 internal misgivings as to his own ability hut with an anient desire to 
 do good work. 
 
 He has sometimes spoken of these early efforts, given perhaps in a 
 log schoolhouse by the light of a single candle, his audience practically 
 invisible. Children were always attracted to him, and one old lady, 
 then a child, has written to me of how she loved to go "just for the 
 pleasure of looking at Mr. Giles." As this work became more en- 
 grossing it was evident that either the teaching or the preaching 
 must be renounced. 
 
 Upon receiving a call from the Cincinnati Society he gave up his 
 school, and so Mr. Giles had at length in his fortieth year found his 
 life work! He began in 1852, without previous theological training, in 
 fact with none which would ordinarily be considered a proper intro- 
 duction to his profession, the many years of useful work which were 
 to follow. 
 
 In after years in tracing the leadings of Divine Providence he felt 
 that his whole previous life had been a preparation for the ministry, 
 and he loved to see in the trials and disappointments of earlier years the 
 Hand which led him to deeper spiritual blessings. 
 
 Of the poor healdi which shortened his college course, a disap- 
 pointment which embittered his life for many years, he said, " By 
 means of it I was led to the greatest blessings of my life, — my wife 
 and the discovery of the New Church." 
 
 None who read Mr. Giles's writings can fail to be impressed with 
 their practical character. Through toil (his boyhood was one of hard 
 work and physical hardship) and suffering, through states of doubt 
 and despair, with keen sympathy for humanity, and yet at times a 
 morbid shrinking from human intercourse, with a longing for self- 
 improvement difTicult to achieve because of ill health, he pursued from 
 necessity the at first uncongenial profession of teaching. It is in- 
 teresting to note in his diary the gradual change in his attitude towards 
 his pupils, — from the " I will show them who is master," to the 
 kindly, interested preceptor strong to instill in heedless brains some 
 notion of the practical importance of the cultivation of their minds and 
 the improvement of their characters. 
 
 Through and by means of his own sufferings and mistakes he felt 
 for those of others; the trutlis which had helped him could aid others. 
 Never were the beautiful New Church doctrines mere abstractions to 
 him. They were imparted to the recipients not for their admiration 
 only, but as comfort to their sorrows and aid in the difliculties of daily 
 
 -^ 122 }s^ -
 
 POMEROY 
 
 life. So his studies of Swedenborg were not undertaken merely to 
 wander free in new and broader fields of intellectual thought, but even 
 at the outset '' to overcome inherent deficiencies " in his own character, 
 and afterwards, when it became his duty to point the way to others, 
 syiuj)athetically to meet as practically as possible the difficulties which 
 he well knew from experience were likely to be encountered. 
 
 Many times Mr. Giles's aptness at illustration of spiritual truth has 
 been mentioned. Surely the need of adapting knowledge to the young 
 minds of his pupils, with the experience so gained, was admirable train- 
 ing for the more difficult task of bringing his parishioners into clear 
 perceptions of spiritual truth which would be embodied in their 
 characters. 
 
 One word more in regard to this period of Mr. Giles's life. The 
 morbid, gloomy sentiments expressed in his diary will be a great sur- 
 prise to many. To none was it more overwhelmingly astonishing than 
 to his own children, who saw tlie diary for the first time after his death. 
 This man who begins his diary " Desolation! Desolation! " and who has 
 many thoughts he " would not care to put on paper " is not the loving, 
 sunny father we knew, — he whose genial smile, humorous stories, 
 loving sympathy, wise counsels, and gentle guidance shed cheerful 
 radiance over our childhood, whose companionship was a liberal edu- 
 cation in itself, and whose every influence was tliat of Christian cheer. 
 
 From knowledge of him in after years I have but little doubt that this 
 inward gloom which so long clouded his happiness was much of it im- 
 perceptible to others. Notwithstanding the morbid " shrinking from 
 his fellows" recorded in his diary, I have no doubt that shining tlirough 
 these cloud strata were many beams of humorous brightness and cor- 
 dially sympathetic exchanges of thought and anecdote with others. 
 
 The complete triumph over this tendency is well exemplified in a 
 grateful letter Mr. Giles received from a lady who, suffering in like 
 manner, had come to him for help. Mr. Giles's letter I did not see, 
 but the lady refers to his remark that " I have come to rejoice in meet- 
 ing new people as an opportunity of increasing my sphere of heavenly 
 influence." Self put aside, and ordy Christian service considered! 
 
 To give some details of the life in Pomeroy we must go back and 
 review them as mentioned in the letters. 
 
 On December 27, 1850, writing from Cincinnati, he says: 
 
 My French teacher comes at ten. I have no fear but that I shall 
 accomplish what I came for, and if I do I suppose I ought to be satis- 
 
 -<i 123 ^■~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 fied. I read nothing, and do noUiing but study until I am tired, and 
 then I take a walk and come back and go at it again. I am now waiting 
 for dinner. We dine at two o'clock. Breakfast at eight, and tea at 
 half past six. We live as well as any one could wish, — a little too well 
 for health, I believe. But I would rather have a dinner of herbs with 
 you and the children tlian board at die Burnet House alone. 
 
 As a comment upon one of our earlier ministers, I add the following 
 extract from tlie same letter: 
 
 Eunice Espy looks better tlian I ever saw her before; she says Mr. 
 Powell holds meetings at their house when he is at home, and they 
 seem to excite considerable interest. She says her father is delighted 
 with the society of Mr. Powell. I have no doubt but he will exert a 
 very charming and happy influence upon them all. 
 
 In the summer of 1850 Mrs. Giles witli lier children went to her old 
 home in Palmyra for a visit. At the same time Mr. Giles made his 
 first visit to Boston to see some of the schools tliere and to learn of im- 
 proved methods of education. His letters tell the story. 
 
 Boston, Aug. 14, 1850. 
 
 You see by the date of my letter that I am in the famous capital of 
 the old Bay State. We arrived here last night about six o'clock. We 
 left Albany at seven o'clock in the morning and were soon rushing over 
 the hills to Boston. I have often crossed tlie mountains before, but 
 never in such a hurry. We actually seemed to fly while going down the 
 mountain. But the cars ran very steadily. I cannot describe my sen- 
 sations as the mountain scenery began to appear. You can probably 
 form some idea of diem from your own when the familiar objects of 
 childhood came in sight. The country from Springfield to Boston is 
 much poorer than I expected to find it. It is rough and barren. As 
 you approach Boston it begins to show signs of cultivation in a more 
 perfect manner, and the barrenness of nature is in a good degree over- 
 come by the art and skill of man. I have already seen some names 
 well known to fame and history. 
 
 Every one is now busy in making preparations for the funeral obse- 
 
 -•^ 124 ^'-
 
 POMEROY 
 
 quies of General Taylor. I hope I shall be able to get into Faneuil 
 Hall to hear the Oration, but it is very doubtful. 
 
 It will take a little time to get accustomed to the roar and bustle of 
 the city, which is tremendous. 
 
 I am determined to see something if there is anything to see before 
 I leave. I am afraid, however, that I shall be disappointed in the main 
 object for which I came. It is now vacation in all the schools. I intend 
 to go to West Newton to-morrow or next day to visit a Normal School. 
 I suppose I can learn as much from one good school as from half a 
 dozen. 
 
 Boston, Aug. 15, 1850. 
 If I should consult my own feelings I would leave to-morrow morn- 
 ing. I feel so lonely and desolate here. That old feeling of which you 
 have heard me speak comes over me and almost overwhelms me. I 
 should like to flee away from the face of men; I wish I could get rid of 
 it. But I am afraid I never shall; I have been wandering about tlie 
 city most of the time alone. Yesterday I could not find my way back 
 without inquiring. Last night I went to hear Mr. Booth play Shylock 
 in " The Merchant of Venice." I have heard Mr. Horton speak of his 
 acting often, and I was desirous of hearing him. He is the best actor 
 I ever saw. There are many things about him diat remind me of my 
 father. I cannot tell what, but I found that I was thinking of him every 
 few minutes. 
 
 Two days later he gives an accoimt of a visit to see Laura Bridgman: 
 
 Mrs. T , who went with us, is well acquainted with her and can 
 
 talk widi her. I was much gratified with what I saw and heard. Laura 
 was reciting her lesson in geography. She stood before a very large 
 globe with raised figures upon it and answered the questions by finding 
 them or putting the finger of her teacher upon diem. 
 
 The moment she touched Mrs. T 's hand she laughed aloud and 
 
 expressed the greatest joy. She asked her a great many questions about 
 her health and the weather, seemed very jocose and anxious to talk all 
 the time. They communicate with her by means of the deaf and dumb 
 
 -<i 125 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 alphabet. She puts her hand on theperson with whom she wishes to talk 
 and so knows what letters he makes. Miss Wight, who is her teacher, 
 and who has the sole care of her, is a very amiable and pleasant-looking 
 girl. Laura would pat her on the cheek and put her arms around her, 
 and was constantly exliibiting some signs of affection for her. Miss 
 Wight is reading " The Neighbors " to Laura now, and she is much 
 interested in it. She told me that she could communicate a page of it 
 to her in a very short time unless there were new ideas, and then Laura 
 wished to have everything explained to her. Some think her very 
 handsome, but I do not. 
 
 After the exercises in the school they all assembled in the Chapel 
 and sang. After the singing they went to play and we came home. 
 
 For a time all went well with the school at Pomeroy. Its success 
 from every standpoint seemed assured, when another school was opened 
 in the little village, too small to support two good schools. This was 
 discouraging, and Dr. Lakey, their guide, philosopher, and friend, 
 writes of it, also commenting on his pleasure in meeting Mrs. Giles in 
 Palmyra. 
 
 Palmyra, N. Y., Nov. 30, 1850. 
 
 Yours of October 14 was received November 4. Its slow passage is 
 still an unexplained mystery! 
 
 I rejoice to hear that your health is better, and hope you will continue 
 to gain and continue the cold water. I would also recommend the use 
 of the dumb-bells and a hard bed. My general health is better than in 
 July, yet I am a great sufferer from my unfortunate ankle and am not 
 able to travel. Your late visit afforded me great pleasure, as I was con- 
 fident that the change of scene would add to your health and strength. 
 In your next you must give me a longer letter. Be careful of your 
 health and let your bedroom have plenty of fresh air. Give my love 
 to your husband and the little ones. 
 
 Chauncey, it seems, is threatened with a rival school, — sectarian of 
 course; sectarian schools are anti-American and unchristian in every 
 respect, and yet many of our Protestant sects have them! Is not this 
 one cause of the present low state of our Academies and Colleges? 
 
 That they are going down is asserted by the Rev. Dr. , but every 
 
 -4 126 ^'-
 
 POMEROY 
 
 ■well-informed man knew of their degradation before! If your hus- 
 band keeps a steady hand he wi 11 triumph over all opposition. He would 
 do well to teach his pupils what is not taught in any school or college 
 in our country: 1. To divide the year correctly. 2. To reckon money 
 aright and to reckon time aright. 3. To speak good English. Let my 
 nephew do this and tlie immense superiority of his pupils would soon 
 appear. Intelligent parents would prefer his school to any other. 
 
 In order to meet the best educators of the day and learn what he 
 could from them, Mr. Giles attended the Teachers' Convention in 
 Cleveland and thus relates his experiences: 
 
 To Mrs. Giles from her Husband 
 
 Cleveland, Aug. 19, 1851. 
 I arrived here safely from Grandpa's [" Grandpa Espy," as he was 
 affectionately known; one of the earliest New Churchmen of Ohio and 
 a warm friend of Mr. Giles's] last evening. I could not but contrast 
 our passage on the Corduroy Rail ten years ago with that of yesterday. 
 It had rained and there was no dust. The road is good and we went 
 nearly twenty-five miles an hour. We dined in Columbus and arrived 
 here to tea about five o'clock in the evening. I don't know when I have 
 had a more pleasant journey. Nearly all the travel comes tliis way. 
 They say there are not often more than three or four passengers 
 through to Sandusky. Their day of innings is over, I hope. I put up 
 at the American House. Only two dollars a day. This morning I con- 
 cluded to accept the hospitality of the city and I was ticketed upon a 
 
 man by the name of , who has a beautiful place about half a mile 
 
 from the main street. He is a Presbyterian and a hot-headed free- 
 soiler. His wife is away and a very pretty and agreeable daughter 
 does the hosjiitality of the house. She wears her hair a la Jenny Lind 
 and says " Yes " witli a rising inflection to everything I say. They live 
 in very good style in a cottage of a somewhat singular construction. 
 There are quite a number of gentlemen from all i)arts of the Union 
 
 here. I found T , but I did not have much conversation with him. 
 
 I am a total stranger and so have none of the cordial greetings which 
 
 -4 127 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 many receive. A book agent occasionally makes up to me and wishes 
 to know if I have recommended his primer; but I shall get acquainted, 
 and that is one step towards fame, — and about the only one, I presume. 
 
 Bishop Potter gave us a very fine address and then those who wished 
 to join paid tliree dollars and thus became members of the American 
 Education Society. I think we shall have a very interesting time of it 
 and I shall enjoy it very much. The old lake looks glorious. I wish 
 I could take a trip on it, but I don't think I shall. I expect now to go 
 to Lima Saturday and then to Urbana, from there to Cincinnati, and 
 then home. Home to you, little Sugar Bun! Oh, I want to see you so 
 much. I expect you will be so fat tliat you cannot see. Keep your eyes 
 open, Bub, and don't let them cheat you out of your dinners. Wake up 
 and cry if they don't attend to you in time. [This refers to Chauncey 
 Lakey Giles, who was then two months old.] 
 
 I have not heard from you yet. I hope I shall to-morrow. When I 
 left Mr. Espy's he was quite well. He felt weak but was free from 
 pain and got up to breakfast. They all send a great deal of love to 
 you and regret very much that you did not come in the winter, and Mr. 
 Espy has promised to make us a visit. It is so dark that I cannot see. 
 I have written this letter as fast as my fingers could fly, in the sitting- 
 room where all are talking and I am compelled to join in the conversa- 
 tion. It will probably take you longer to read it than it did me to 
 write it. Good night. 
 
 Cleveland, Aug. 21, 1851. 
 I wish you could be with me. It would afford me great pleasure to 
 have you hear the debates and see this beautiful city. Our Convention 
 holds its sittings in the church we attended when we passed tlirough 
 here on our way to Hamilton. I do not think I have lost anything of 
 my self-esteem by my contact with the great educators of the age. If 
 I were as accustomed to public speaking as many of them I feel as 
 though I could express myself quite as well. I have never felt so great 
 a desire to speak as I have sometimes in the debates of the Conven- 
 tion. If I had yielded to the temptation I presume I should have made 
 as great a fool of myself as have some others. We had a fine lecture 
 
 -4 128 ^^
 
 POMEROY 
 
 this evening from Professor Agnew of Michigan on the subject of Fe- 
 male Education. It was highly polished and pretty well developed, but 
 after all it did not seem to come quite up to my ideas of what a lecture 
 of that sort should be. It was a beautiful form but it seemed to lack 
 soul. The president followed the address with some very appropriate 
 remarks and then the subject was open for discussion, but there was 
 not an idea that was new or particularly striking uttered by a single 
 individual. I supposed I should meet men of mature minds who had 
 well-digested ideas on the subjects which would come before the Con- 
 vention, who could express them with earnestness, dignity, and fervor; 
 but it is more like a debating club of schoolboys. There is the most 
 violent gesticulation and vociferous speaking on the most common- 
 place topics. As I said before, I have lost nothing in my self-esteem 
 by coming in contact with these great lights of the age. I think it will 
 do me much good and perhaps give me a more just appreciation of 
 myself. 
 
 Lima, Aug. 24, 1851. 
 I attended church this morning and heard one of the most furious 
 cut-and-thrust sermons I have heard for a long time. It seemed to me 
 tlie man made a great fool of himself. He gesticulated, screamed, 
 roared, whined, caught his heart as though it was bursting, and groaned 
 as if in agony. The perspiration poured from him and he seemed 
 at times quite exhausted. I looked around at the audience to see what 
 effect his discourse had upon them, but I could not discover that they 
 thought it anything extraordinaiy. They seemed to think it was all 
 right, gaped, and looked around while he was rolling up his eyes like 
 an expiring chicken and making the most passionate appeals to them to 
 have faith. What an effect it must have upon those who pretend to 
 believe in the truths of these things but do not regard them really in 
 dieir hearts, to hear them preached in this way! I believe I could 
 preach better myself. I think my bump of self-esteem must be in- 
 creasing. It surely has lost nothing by my journeying so far. 
 
 In 1849 there was a meeting in Cincinnati to plan for the establish- 
 ment of a New Church school in Urbana. There must have been some 
 
 -4 129 }•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 talk of having Mr. Giles go there as teacher. Later 1 know he was 
 offered the position of Professor of Languages but he became a New 
 Church minister instead. His interest in the school was, however, un- 
 failing. He was a non-resident president of the school for many years, 
 and his letters to Mr. Milo G. Williams give counsel and running com- 
 ment on all its affairs. 
 
 Dr. Lakey makes the first reference whicli I find in the family letters 
 to Urbana. 
 
 March 5, 1851. 
 
 Yours of February 2 is on my table. Eunice writes of a New Church 
 school about to begin in Urbana; that is a rich town and perhaps a 
 school tliere would be profitable. If some of the wealthy brethren 
 would guarantee to you a salary certain for the first year you might 
 find a removal safe and profitable. Your Church is in Scripture 
 language like a little flock of kids as to numbers, while the others, 
 like the armies of the King of Syria, fill the country. Perhaps the result 
 of the spiritual battle may be the same as in the olden times. 
 
 A few months later he writes: 
 
 Palmyra, Aug. 30, 1851. 
 
 You speak of Urbana; will your friends continue to keep that berth 
 open and vacant for you? You are now delightfully situated, but will 
 that enable you to provide for age and a rainy day? I know that the 
 great general mass live from hand to mouth, but I think it a wretched 
 way of living. Tlie president of a college has a fixed salary on which 
 he can live and leave something for his children after he has departed 
 to the spirit land. It would give me great pleasure to see you President 
 of Urbana College. You have fought in the ranks long enough. A 
 teacher of a private school has to act also as tax collector, two offices 
 rather incompatible. Remember, "There is a tide in the affairs of 
 men," then take the Urbana tide at " flood " if it flow high enough. I 
 hope you will visit that town. 
 
 The following letters from Mr. Giles show his interest in the project 
 of a New Church school. They also mention his election to the Profes- 
 sorship of Languages. After some consideration it was decided not 
 to accept the position and of this also the letters treat. 
 
 -4 130 ^»-
 
 POMEROY 
 To Mr. Milo G. Williams 
 
 PoMEROY, Nov. 9, 1851. 
 
 When I left Urbana I thought you would hear from me long before 
 this, though I have nothing special to communicate. But I have been 
 constantly occupied. Since school commenced I have had no assist- 
 ance, except in German and French, and of course have a great variety 
 of matters which need my attention. Besides my school duties I am 
 learning the German language. I generally spend four hours a day 
 upon it and one hour in studying music. Thus, in addition to the usual 
 amount of visiting and the time necessarily occupied in supplying the 
 wants of a family consisting of fifteen members, I am kept pretty busily 
 engaged. From the little I have already learned of German I am de- 
 lighted with it, and diough I am not able to give a specific answer to 
 the oft-repeated question of my friends, "Of what use will it be to 
 you?" I have no fear that it will be labor spent in vain. The pleasure 
 which I shall derive from roaming at will in a field so rich in thought 
 will be ample compensation if I receive no other. There has been no 
 essential change in my school. The opposition school is yet in opera- 
 tion but with greatly diminished numbers. 
 
 How do you get along with the University? I suppose the building 
 is nearly completed by this time. Have you made any new movements 
 or excited any new opposition since I was there? I regretted that I 
 could not see more of you during my short stay and learn more fully 
 your plans. 
 
 I have seen no town in Ohio of tlie same size which contains so 
 many beautiful residences, and as the fashion of the thing is now es- 
 tablished and the current has set in the right direction, I see noth- 
 ing to prevent Urbana from becoming as noted for the beauty and 
 good taste of its homes as the country around it is for its excellent soil. 
 
 I have thought of many things connected with your University since I 
 left upon which I should like to converse with you if you had not been 
 so much engaged. One point I will mention now. 
 
 Do you intend to organize regular college classes in which a specific 
 amount of study shall be pursued? The subject of Colleges and Uni- 
 
 -<i 131 }2^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 versities, of " full courses " and " partial courses," seems to be one of 
 those open questions which cannot now be decided, but which is just 
 at this time exciting considerable interest in our community. I wish 
 you could have been at Cleveland during the discussion of that subject. 
 The lecture which I gave you is a pretty good statement of one side, but 
 it was rather roughly handled in the debate which followed. Its deliv- 
 ery and some of its doctrines were so ably combated that though I 
 was inclined to coincide with the lecture I found myself in the condi- 
 tion of the Dutch judge who never wished to hear but one side of the 
 question, as he could llius make his decision much easier. 
 
 POMEROY, Aug. 2, 1851. 
 
 I received on the 30th a joint letter from Mr. Stuart and Dr. Murdock 
 announcing my appointment to a professorship in tlie Urbana Uni- 
 versity. You know Mr. Stuart's laconic way of writing. He simply 
 announced the fact, but it seems to me important that I have some ad- 
 ditional information before I can come to an intelligent decision, and 
 you will confer a great favor upon me if you will inform me as well as 
 you can how matters stand and what is expected of me. Mr. Stuart 
 says I am elected " Professor of Languages," which certainly covers a 
 very wide field. Have you decided upon any plan of organization or 
 marked out any course of study, or is tliat yet to be arranged? 
 
 Dr. Murdock wrote something in relation to a house, and from his 
 letter I suppose it is expected that I shall take boarders. If we went 
 to Urbana we thought of selling off the most of our furniture and living 
 in a quiet way for a while, and we would much prefer to be alone. If 
 we have none but our owti family we should not need so large a house 
 as the one about which Dr. Murdock writes. 
 
 To Milo G. Williams 
 
 PoMEROY, Aug. 3, 1851. 
 
 Your letter containing an invitation to attend the laying of the 
 corner stone of the University was duly received and I should have been 
 much pleased to accept it, but I could not leave home. Inasmuch, how- 
 ever, as we considered it a very important day and worthy to be com- 
 
 -4 132 }>'-
 
 POMEROY 
 
 memorated, though absent, we had a little celebration of our own, and 
 Mrs. Giles presented me with a son (Chauncey Lakey). If the Univer- 
 sity manifests as many signs of vigor and grows as fast as he does, 
 it will soon become one of the first institutions in the West. 
 
 Before Mr. Giles had received the call to Cincinnati and had given 
 up the school in Pomeroy, and while he was at the same time preaching 
 as a missionary in various places, he writes thus to his wife while visit- 
 ing in Chicago: 
 
 Mr. Scammon, who is a very wealthy man and was the first receiver 
 of the Doctrines in Chicago, took me in his carriage and carried me 
 around the city, pointing out to me tlie "Lions." I took tea with 
 him and after tea we took a long walk. He is very anxious to have a 
 New Church school started in Chicago which may ultimately grow into 
 an immense city. He said he was willing to give five and if necessary 
 ten thousand dollars to begin one, and he tliought one could be well 
 supported. He wanted to know if I could be prevailed upon to take the 
 position, and we had a long talk upon the subject before I came away. 
 He said he would guarantee me a thousand dollars a year if I would 
 come and start a school and wished me to write to him when I got 
 home. Mr. Hibbard also thought I should do well to go diere. So 
 you see, my dear, tliat Providence seems to be opening a way for us, 
 if we should be driven from Pomeroy. It affords me great pleasure 
 to find that people — strangers — seem to be so favorably impressed 
 with me. 
 
 Mr. Scammon was an ardent New Churchman who had full confi- 
 dence in the growth of the New Church. This is well illustrated by 
 the action taken by him in 1843. At this time Chicago was a town 
 of only eight thousand inhabitants. There was neither a railroad nor a 
 canal in the place, but the Canal Commissioners were giving out build- 
 ing lots to be used in the future by churches which desired tliem. Mr. 
 Scammon organized a small society with a membership of three only: 
 himself as president, his wife, and a Mr. Lowell as secretary, and made 
 application for one of the lots. The petition was granted and a lot 
 deeded to this society on the outskirts of the city. It was situated on 
 Adams Street. 
 
 -ie{ 133 ]^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 The mention of Mr. Hibbard recalls some interesting anecdotes con- 
 cerning him. 
 
 Mr. Giles says of him: 
 
 I like Mr. Hibbard very well. He seems to be a downright sort of 
 man. I should think he was the right kind of a man to introduce the 
 doctrines and superintend the affairs of the Church. His wife has 
 taught some but does not now, I believe. She also seems to have a 
 business-like character. They have no children and I should think they 
 both suffered from it. The softening and elevating influences which 
 the care of children and a constant association with them have upon 
 most persons, I should think diey need. 
 
 Mr. Hibbard began as an Evangelist in the United Brethren at so 
 early an age that he was known as the " Boy Preacher." He first be- 
 came interested in the New Church in 1836 through a copy of the "True 
 Christian Religion," which he found in a log cabin. He read and 
 studied while traveling on horseback between stations. Mention is 
 also made of his visit to Steiger's Rest, a small colony founded by 
 Baron Steiger, formerly one of Napoleon's generals, who became con- 
 verted to the New Church doctrines in Philadelphia. Baron Steiger 
 built a small church which his tenants attended regularly, but on his 
 death the society ceased to exist. 
 
 Not long after Mr. Hibbard's entrance into the ministry he con- 
 verted his father, the Rev. Elisha Hibbard, and both became New 
 Church ministers. Mr. Hibbard had some interesting experiences 
 while traveling about the country. On one occasion he met a young 
 man who declared very positively that he knew all about Swedenborg, 
 and that there was nothing in his ideas. Mr. Hibbard questioned him 
 closely and found that his " exhaustive study " was confined to a few 
 pages of "Heaven and Hell." "Young man," said Mr. Hibbard, 
 " don't you think you are doing rather a large business on a very small 
 capital? " 
 
 On one of his journeys he was introduced to Abraham Lincoln in 
 Springfield, Illinois. Mr. Lincoln was not a member of any of the 
 various sects or churches. A very few knew why. He was a religious 
 man, a very conscientious man, and his conscience was formed by the 
 Ten Commandments and the Word of God, which in private he read 
 much. His views were largely influenced by the writings of Sweden- 
 borg, lent him by his friend Mr. I. S. Britton in 1842-1843. Mr. Brit- 
 
 -^ 134 }■>.-
 
 POMEROY 
 
 ton was the State Superintendent of Schools and the most prominent 
 New Churchman in Springfield. 
 
 From the following letter from Dr. Lakey we learn of Mr. Giles's final 
 decision not to go to Urbana. 
 
 Cincinnati, Sept. 1, 1851. 
 
 Yours, mailed August 27th, lies before me. So then you "allow" 
 that you will not be '"Mrs. Professor Giles" at present! By the bye, 
 the Boston papers mentioned the death of Mrs. Taylor, the widow of 
 the late President Taylor; but our Western papers speak of "Mrs. Gen- 
 eral Taylor," as if the good woman had actually fought the bloody 
 battles of Bridgewater and Chippewa! Out upon such bastard English! 
 
 It had now become customary for Mr. Giles to preach either to the 
 society in Pomeroy or to other small societies in neighboring towns. 
 As the work grew in usefulness it became evident that the time was 
 ripe for his ordination. 
 
 The first request for this came from Rutland, Ohio, and was made 
 to Rev. David Powell by the leading men of that society. 
 
 In compliance with their request Mr. Giles was ordained in Cincin- 
 nati, in the presence of the Ohio Conference of the New Church, into 
 the first degree of the ministry. 
 
 In May of the following year he was ordained before the same body 
 into the second degree of tlie ministry. This ordination not only au- 
 tliorized him to conduct public worship but to administer the rites of 
 baptism and the sacraments of the Holy Supper, to solemnize mar- 
 riages, and to perform " all the holy rites and ceremonies of the 
 church " except that of ordination. 
 
 In October, 1853, Mr. Giles received a call from the Cincinnati So- 
 ciety to become its pastor. 
 
 Before bidding farewell altogether to the schooldays it may be inter- 
 esting to have the viewpoint of one of Mr. Giles's pupils. As nearly as 
 I can ascertain the boy was perhaps fourteen years of age. As he never 
 expected his diar>' to be read by friends of Mr. Giles, his opinions may 
 be considered strictly impartial. 
 
 These are extracts from the diary of Homer Plantz: 
 
 Pomeroy, Ohio, July 8, 1852. This morning I commenced to board 
 with Mr. Giles, our teacher. I like to board there very much. He is 
 such a good man and so kind to us. The boarders (of whom tliere are 
 
 -<i 135 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 six) are all very pleasant. I study Latin and German. I am reading 
 Cicero's Orations, and aldiough Uiey are hard I diink I can get along 
 very well. 
 
 To-night Mr. Giles took us all over in swimming. 
 
 To-day it is not quite so hot as it has been, and I hope it will not be 
 so hot again soon. This afternoon we had our General Exercises at 
 school, — that is, we spoke pieces and wrote compositions. We have 
 this to do every week. We have about forty scholars. 
 
 I like the arrangements at Mr. Giles's very well. We breakfast at 
 six o'clock and take tea at six in the evening. We study at the Acad- 
 emy from seven till eight in the morning. John W is my bed- 
 fellow. The fare is good. 
 
 Aug. 16. Mr. Giles has been appointed Professor of Languages in 
 Urbana University and I am afraid he will go. 
 
 Aug. 20. Last night Mr. Giles and Pa came out, and Mr. Giles 
 preached. His sermon was on the text " The leaves of the tree were for 
 the healing of the nations." Mr. Giles is not going to Urbana. I am 
 very glad, as I think he is such a good teacher that we cannot spare him. 
 
 Oct. 14. This is a beautiful morning but it is very cold. We have 
 one new scholar this morning. We now have a very pleasant school. 
 The school is a very still one and the scholars all seem to desire to learn. 
 I think it is as pleasant a quarter as we have ever had. I think that 
 I never saw a teacher who impressed the duty so much upon the schol- 
 ars to do right from right motives as Mr. Giles. He says that in all 
 our plays and in all our intercourse with each other we should " Do 
 unto others as we would be done by." If we all could follow this rule 
 how much more happy our school would be. 
 
 Oct. 15. This morning when Mr. Giles was reading in the Bible at 
 family prayers he read Christ's injunctions to the disciples to take no 
 money with them and not to take two coats apiece. He explained it 
 according to the Doctrine of Correspondences. By not taking two coats 
 apiece with them is signified that one should not have two doctrines, and 
 by not having any money is meant to give up one's proprium and do that 
 which is good. How beautiful does the Science of Correspondences 
 make that which before seemed unmeaning, and how practical does it 
 
 -4, 136 ^"-
 
 POMEROY 
 
 make that which seemed before to be but a little history or an inex- 
 plicable mystery. 
 
 Jan. 9, 1853. To-day I have been reading the " History of Napoleon 
 Bonaparte." Went to Sheffield with Mr. Giles in a skiff and helped him 
 row. He preached the sermon on Leaves. '" And tlie leaves of the tree 
 were for the healing of the nations." I have now heard this sermon four 
 times and each time I have understood more and more and liked it better 
 and better. It is thought by some to be the best sermon Mr. Giles ever 
 preached, and I think it is. It is full of instruction, and is so beauti- 
 fully written tliat no one could help but admire it. Indeed all of Mr. 
 Giles's sermons are excellent, and they are so plain that one who has 
 never read any of the New Church books can understand him. 
 
 Jan. 13. To-day I am at school. Learned a very hard Philosophy 
 lesson on the Steam Engine. Mr. Giles is going to take us some day 
 soon to look at an engine and see if it will not help us to understand it. 
 It is hard to imderstand, and especially for those who have never ex- 
 amined one. 
 
 Jan. 15. At noon I had a debate with Mr. Giles on the character of 
 Napoleon Bonaparte. Mr. Giles thought that Napoleon was fighting for 
 the sake of it and for the love of glory. I thought that he fought for the 
 good of France and in self-defense, and endeavored to show that Napo- 
 leon was always attacked before he fought — that is, that others always 
 began the war, while he always ended it. It was true that he always 
 went out of his own country to fight, but that did not alter the case; 
 that he did not wish to let the enemy come into France. Mr. Giles 
 then spoke of the battle of Austerlitz when a great many perished on 
 the ice, the French soldiers having broken the ice on which the enemy 
 was flying. He asked me if that was right. I told him that Napoleon 
 was fighting for the liberty of France and that war in itself is a dread- 
 ful system, but I did not think that any worse than all the occurrences. 
 
 Jan. 20. This morning Mr. Giles made a few very appropriate re- 
 marks to the scholars on behavior in school and our manner of studying. 
 He said that we were not merely learning the knowledge contained in 
 our books while we were at school, but we were forming habits either 
 good or bad which must go with us to eternity. If we would whisper 
 
 — 3{ 137 )S^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 because we thought he did not see us it was forming a bad habit which 
 must go with us wherever we are. By so doing we lose our liabits of 
 self-control and of resisting temptation and form habits of acting 
 wrongly and deceitfully. That he did not wish to punish any one, but 
 that he wishes each one to refrain from doing wrong not because he said 
 they should not do it or they were afraid tliey should be punished if they 
 did it, but to do it from right motives, to do right because it is right. 
 How important is this; may we think of it in all we do and may the Lord 
 aid us in resisting temptations and forming right habits. 
 
 Jan. 24. To-day one of the boys was making a noise in school with 
 something and Mr. Giles asked him what he had. He said, " Nodiing." 
 Mr. Giles then went to him and took it away from him. He then 
 brought it to me and said that he had got what the world was made of. 
 I told him I thought probably it was a larger piece of nothing than that. 
 Mr. Giles thought so too. 
 
 Jan. 30. This morning I went up to the Episcopal Church and heard 
 Mr. Dooley preach. His main object was to impress upon the minds of 
 his hearers the non-connection of Scripture and Religion with the " vain 
 philosophies " and " reasonings " of tliis world. 
 
 In tlie afternoon I heard Mr. Giles preach a sermon in which he 
 showed the connection of the Natural World with the Spiritual and a 
 system which will reconcile all the apparent difficulties in the Word and 
 join togetlier all scientific and religious trutli. 
 
 Feb. 20. This morning Mr. Giles gave me a copy of the first number 
 of the New-Church Messenger, a paper which has just been started in 
 Cincinnati. It is a very good paper, I think. 
 
 Feb. 21. To-day Mrs. Giles gave me a lecture on reading so much. 
 She said it was just as much dissipation and intemperance as the drink- 
 ing of spirituous liquors. She said she thought my New Church views 
 ought to keep me from doing that which would injure my health and 
 that I should practise the truth which I already know. This is not the 
 first time that she has talked to me tliis way, and she is such a good and 
 affectionate woman that I love her and must respect her advice. Mrs. 
 Giles is one of the best women I ever knew and I am sure she has been 
 very kind to me and has been like a mother ever since I came to live 
 
 -4 138 )§t..-
 
 POMEROY 
 
 here. I hope I have never done anything to hurt her feelings, for I am 
 sure I never intended to and would not do it for anything. I shall 
 never forget her loving kindness and her care for my welfare and I 
 shall ever try to imitate her example. 
 
 Because of overstudy and consequent headaches Homer was obliged 
 to leave school. 
 
 He writes from Rutland as follows: 
 
 March 26. Mr. Giles laid down the following rules in his letter in 
 regard to reading: 1st. I must not read more than one chapter in the 
 Word in a day. 2nd. That I must not read at all in the evening, and he 
 says that if I was not to see a book at all for five years it would be better 
 for me and I would know more by the time I was twenty-five years 
 old. I am trying his plan to-day but find it very hard to do so. 
 Napoleon said, " He is a poor soldier who cannot subdue his own pas- 
 sions," and so I must try to subdue my passion for reading, for a while 
 at least. 
 
 The letter here referred to was addressed, " H. G. Plantz, W. N., 
 which means of course " Worshiper of Napoleon." 
 
 Later on he writes, " Mr. Giles's rules are too hard. I cannot live 
 up to them." 
 
 Pomeroy, April 12. Spent most of the time at Mr. Giles's. They all 
 seem very glad that I have come back. Mrs. Giles wants me to come 
 there and live again, and I am sure I want to very much. I never can 
 find friends which will take the place of Mr. and Mrs. Giles. 
 
 Athens, April 24. This evening I attended the Methodist meeting. 
 The preacher's text was, " For the Lord God is a sun and shield." Mr. 
 Giles wrote a sermon on that text once. It was entirely a different ser- 
 mon from this one. The truth is I never heard a preacher I liked as 
 well as Mr. Giles. I love him so I must like to hear him preach, and 
 preaching as he does what I believe to be tlie trutli, and preaching and 
 writing so well, I like him slill belter. 
 
 May 5. Had a long conversation with Mrs. Giles this afternoon. She 
 wants me to come back and live widi Uiem. I am sure I want to but I 
 
 -<{ 139 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 suppose I shall not go till next quarter. Mrs. Giles says she has never 
 been attached to any of her boarders so much as to me, and I suppose 
 I shall believe it on the same grounds that Murat did when Napoleon 
 told him he was a better general than himself. " I believe it," said he, 
 '■ since it comes from your majesty." There is no one whose love and 
 esteem I should more desire than Mrs. Giles's. 
 
 The boy who wrote this diary was the son of the Hon. T. A. Plantz, 
 who was for many years vice president of the Convention. 
 
 During die Civil War Homer was private secretary to Salmon P. 
 Chase, Secretary of the Treasury. He was afterwards appointed Dis- 
 trict Attorney for the Southern District of Florida. In 1868 he 
 was made Judge of this circuit. He died July 6, 1872, at the age of 
 thirty-three. 
 
 -4 140 )ie..-
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 New Church in the Middle West 
 
 T was a newly settled country to which Mr. Giles and his wife went 
 in 1841. The facilities for traveling were few and involved much 
 discomfort. The so-called Corduroy Rail, upon whose rough roads 
 the stagecoaches ran between Lake Erie and the southern portion of 
 the state, and tlie two canals which connected Lake Erie with the 
 Ohio River, were the principal methods of travel, supplemented by 
 horseback and private conveyance when the former means were not 
 available. 
 
 The early settlers were from New England, witli a sprinkling of 
 Germans, Scotch-Irish, and Quakers from Pennsylvania, also some 
 who preferred to live in a free state, from Kentucky and Virginia. 
 There were numerous small villages and towns, but not much free inter- 
 course between them. The very qualities of sturdy independence, the 
 strength of resolve necessary to meet new and rough conditions, the 
 incessant toil required to make the wilderness " blossom as the rose," 
 the at first inadequate educational facilities — all tended to foster an 
 extreme of personal independence and narrow but strong convictions. 
 
 In 1801 there came into this sparsely settled country that gro- 
 tesquely picturesque but heavenly-minded character, John Chapman, 
 more generally known as " Johnny Appleseed." When quite a young 
 man he became interested in the New Church doctrines through the 
 Hon. John Young, one of the earliest New Churchmen in the United 
 States, and a lawyer of note in Philadelphia. 
 
 It was he who supplied the young evangel with books. We talk 
 much nowadays of the importance of the " personal touch " in pro- 
 moting the spread of our doctrines, so it is very interesting to note 
 that ihe ])iuneer work in Ohio was so strongly of that character. 
 
 Preceding settlements in fertile regions this strange character would 
 trami) in the wilderness through heat and cold, forest and swamp, 
 barefooted, with his musii pot on his head for a hat, an old bit 
 of sacking for an overcoat, and a bag of apple seeds and a few New 
 Church books on his back. The seeds were sown in ftMlile glades and 
 
 -4 141 }>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 afterwards carefully tended, bringing to the families who settled in 
 these remote regions a delightful surprise in the orchards of thrifty 
 young trees. 
 
 He was a favorite even with those who considered him half-witted. 
 Upon entering a log cabin he would throw his sack of seeds upon the 
 floor and ask the inmates if they would like some "news right from 
 Heaven." Then he would read from some of the New Church books 
 he carried with him. In order to distribute more widely the literature 
 he would divide a book into leaflets, leaving a portion with each 
 family, and on his next visit would redistribute the parts. In this 
 way it happened that the last on the route would read the book 
 backwards. 
 
 So, planting the spiritual seed of New Church truth and the material 
 seed of delicious fruit, his life was passed, and many grateful people 
 remember affectionately tlie results of both. He was a favorite with 
 the Indians, who considered him a " Medicine Man," and during tlie 
 War of 1812 he was very useful to the early settlers in warning them 
 of proposed raids of the Indian allies of Great Britain. For more 
 than forty years he carried on his unique work of evangelization, and 
 he died in Fort Wayne, Indiana, in 1847. 
 
 The early recipients of New Church truths were in the main enthu- 
 siastic students of Swedenborg and eager to impart the " Heavenly 
 Doctrines." They were affectionate, independent, honest and cour- 
 ageous, men of fortitude and strong faith. There were but few who 
 had received classical or theological training. Dropped into the com- 
 munities of which diey formed a part they, like the tiny apple seeds 
 which John Chapman planted in the wilderness, grew and developed. 
 I cannot learn that there was, as in New England, any decided ostra- 
 cism of New Church people. It is true that in Steubenville the objec- 
 tion to " Swedenborg children " was so strong that Rev. David Powell, 
 Sr., was obliged to establish a school on his own farm for the educa- 
 tion of his own and neighboring New Church children. The school 
 itself proved so excellent that it was not long before prejudice was 
 overcome and others of differing faith were sent as pupils. The chief 
 opposition seems to have come from the clergymen of existing denomi- 
 nations. In times when men really believed and ministers preached 
 literal hell fire; that the world was made in six days from nothing! in 
 predestination; tliat salvation was by faith alone regardless of life, — 
 doctrines so entirely opposed to these dogmas were novel in the ex- 
 treme. They excited much comment; some received them gladly, and 
 
 -^ 142 ^-
 
 NEW CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE WEST 
 
 to others, confirmed in the old faith, any departure therefrom was 
 fraught with danger, and opposed. 
 
 Small events show the general trend of thought in a community. 
 What would be thought of a clergyman who would in these days at 
 a funeral say to the bereaved family, " At this moment, while the 
 present company is observing the funeral obsequies, your son is un- 
 doubtedly burning in hell fire." The deceased was a young man of 
 blameless conduct who had never joined the church. This really hap- 
 pened, and excited much indignant comment even then; but who would 
 dare at the present day to voice so heartless a sentiment, especially 
 as the idea is now so often expressed, " that it makes but little differ- 
 ence what one believes provided he lives aright." 
 
 In 1837 seven New Church people living in Detroit made application 
 to Rev. Holland Weeks for organization, with Mr. Edwin Bumham as 
 leader and secretary. The society was extremely short-lived, as by 
 May, 1847, every one of its members moved away from the town. 
 
 A new society was formed later with Rev. G. M. Field as pastor. 
 
 Mr. Field was an Englishman who had been a lay reader in Man- 
 chester, England. He came to this country in 1836. He went West 
 and preached his first sermon in Detroit in 1844. From that time 
 until 1866 he served the Detroit society as pastor at different intervals. 
 
 There seems to have been a strong attachment between Mr. Field 
 and his people, but they did not agree upon the subject of rebaptism. 
 Mr. Field held firmly to the position that baptism in the former Chris- 
 tian church did not prepare for membership in the New. His con- 
 gregation held more liberal views. From time to time the differences 
 would seem to be adjusted only to break out afresh. The final breach 
 came in 1866 when Mr. Field left diem not to return. 
 
 Without following him to all the societies to which he ministered, 
 I will simply tell of the excellent missionary work which he did on 
 his own behalf or while in the employ of the Illinois Association in 
 1852. 
 
 His lectures in various places were given either in the town Court 
 House or in the Mediodist Church. This sect seemed to be the pre- 
 dominant one in the Western country; but as odier denominations con- 
 tributed to the expense of building, the Methodists allowed the use 
 of their churches for various purposes. When, as sometimes hap- 
 pened after one New Church lecture was given, there was opposition 
 to a continued use of the building, a committee was appointed to find 
 another suitable place and the course of lectures was continued. 
 
 -^ 143 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 That tlie interest was keen was evident from the fact that many of 
 the discourses were delivered during the week, and admission charged 
 and paid. 
 
 Wlien working independently Mr. Field paid his way by occasional 
 lectures on scientific subjects, sometimes teaching penmanship and 
 stenography. In the summertime he taught school. 
 
 The hardships of travel were very great. There were a few short 
 lines of railroad but they had not yet gained public confidence. On 
 one occasion, wishing to travel from Springfield, Illinois, to Jackson- 
 ville, a distance of twenty-five miles, although there was a railroad Mr. 
 Field preferred to go by stagecoach, regarding it as both safer and 
 quicker. 
 
 At another time when on his way to Dayton, Ohio, wishing to call 
 upon Rev. Elisha Hibbard who lived on a farm in Lucas County, he 
 lost his way in the woods and was obliged to spend the night in a log 
 cabin. There was only one room. In it were three beds and some 
 trundle beds. More than twelve adults and some children lodged 
 there that night. In such a new country hotels were few and far 
 between, and the settlers extended, as a matter of course, hospitality 
 to tlie wayfarer. 
 
 In October, 1852, Mr. Field was employed for seven months by the 
 Illinois Association to act as its missionary. His report so well illus- 
 trates the difficulties and hardships of travel that I will quote from it 
 verbatim. 
 
 Widiin the past eight months I have visited and lectured at seven- 
 teen different places, giving in all one hundred and twenty-four dis- 
 courses. For fully three quarters of the above time traveling was 
 toilsome, difficult, and perilous. The roads were like a ploughed 
 field, soaked with water, only full of holes and ridges, or as on the 
 prairie sod, sometimes flooded and saturated, or like a shallow lake. 
 Twice I had to get other horses to haul my buggy from bottomless 
 mudholes; once I was nearly drowned in fording the deep and rapid 
 Vermilion, swollen by heavy rains; once I had to pass through a wide 
 lagoon of water five feet deep and cross a bridge underneath it. Some- 
 times I was drenched with rain and no help for it, at other times 
 almost frozen, with a bitter northwest wind blowing like a hurricane 
 over a prairie where for miles neither house, fence, nor tree could be 
 seen. I crossed half-frozen rivers between great holes in the ice. I 
 
 -^ 144 ^-
 
 NEW CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE WEST 
 
 drove after dark on the open prairie, guessing at the road, in the depth 
 of winter, sometimes losing my way, or passing the night in rude 
 houses, only next to being in the open air. 
 
 He concludes by saying: "I have experienced the mercy and protec- 
 tion of the Lord in all my sojournings and with but slight exception 
 have had good health and good courage to pursue my way." He also 
 adds: '" I shall now be glad to take a little rest." 
 
 Many incidents of his missionary' tours are indicative of the reli- 
 gious sentiment of the day. A series of lectures which he gave on the 
 " Creation of the Universe and the Deluge in the Light of Religion 
 and Science," not only excited much comment but great opposition 
 from resident clergy. When he stated that " something could not be 
 made from notliing" he was violently opposed by a Presbyterian 
 clergyman. A meeting was appointed to discuss the question. The 
 minister who attacked him did not appear, but the subject was debated 
 for six evenings, ending widi the weiglit of argument in favor of Mr. 
 Field. 
 
 In another place discussion in a Methodist Church lasted for two 
 days, beginning at nine in the morning. There were in this small 
 place, Goshen, Ohio, from three to five hundred persons present. The 
 Presbyterian minister endeavored to prove that Swedenborg was a 
 blasphemer, insane and a knave. He also attempted to controvert 
 Mr. Field's position relative to the Creation and his teaching with 
 regard to Christ. Obtaining the use of the church for the following 
 Sunday to lecture '" On the Claims and Credibility of Swedenborg," 
 Mr. Field spoke for three hours, maintaining the interest of his audi- 
 ence to the end. 
 
 It will be remembered that the belief in one leading personal devil 
 was strong in that day. When Mr. David Powell lectured in Bridge- 
 port on the " Fall of Man " he advanced the New Church view that man 
 fell, not from the wiles of one personal devil, but by yielding to his 
 own evil tendencies of self-love and love of the world, — tendencies 
 which were excited by influx from evil spirits who were when on 
 earth bad men and women. 
 
 After the lecture, when Mr. Powell was quietly resting by the fire- 
 side at the inn, he was visited by a deputation of ministers who asked 
 him how it was possible for man to fall without a personal devil to 
 tempt him. Mr. Powell in his gentle way replied, " You believe 
 Lucifer was once an angel of light, do you not? " They replied in the 
 
 — «i{ 145 }?•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 affirmative. "Then how could he fall, with no one to tempt him?" 
 They were utterly unable to reply, and first one, then another, left the 
 inn. As the innkeeper remarked, " I never saw men pile up their com 
 so quickly." 
 
 The early New Churchmen of the West were active, intelligent men, 
 diligent readers of Swedenborg, and inspired with an ardent zeal to 
 communicate the truths which they loved to others. 
 
 Through their very effective missionary efforts many small societies 
 were formed, very few of them — indeed none, at the period of which 
 I write — capable of supporting entirely the minister who preached for 
 them, except the Cincinnati Society. Tlie missionary ministers were 
 numerous, however, asking but little remuneration for their services, 
 glad to work for the cause, and willing to obtain a living support by 
 such opportunities for secular labor as offered themselves. Rev. 
 David Powell, Jr., who at the age of twelve had resolved that his 
 manliood should be devoted to the New Churcli ministry, began with the 
 idea that the services of his calling should be like those of his father, 
 gratuitous. His first thought was that he would earn enough to support 
 himself and family, so that he could be free to preach without pay. 
 
 He tried various pursuits; followed his father's trade of tanner for 
 a while; again he was partner in a general store, and for several 
 years taught school. The walks to school were times of meditation, 
 and often his thoughts dwelt on his ardent desire to become a minister 
 and the discouraging outlook for its gratification. One day while 
 thus pondering the words, "I have been young, and now am old; yet 
 have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread," 
 came with clear light to bis mind; also, " But seek ye first the kingdom 
 of God, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added 
 imto you." These words entirely changed his point of view. He no 
 longer felt that his preaching must be gratuitous with a self-supporting 
 secular occupation to sustain him. He was now resolved to apply to 
 the Western New Church Convention for a position as preacher. This 
 he did in tlie autumn of 1833, after a visit to his relatives in Steuben- 
 ville. Here he opened a select school which was one of the most suc- 
 cessful in the city. He taught during the week and preached alternate 
 Sundays in Steubenville, and did missionary work in the country on 
 other Sundays. 
 
 For four years he lived in Danby, New York, returning to Steuben- 
 ville in 1844. He was then engaged by the Missionary Society of Cin- 
 cinnati for several years. So hard did he work that many times he 
 
 -"•€•{ 146 ^'~
 
 NEW CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE WEST 
 
 would preach every evening except Saturday, and twice on Sunday, 
 with much travel to meet engagements. 
 
 The year 1848 finds him engaged by the Pittsburg Society. He left 
 Pittsburg in 1850 and went to Twenty Mile Stand, near Cincinnati, to 
 live. 
 
 Here he again acted as missionary, was also much interested in the 
 affairs of Urbana University, then in its infancy, and assisted in edit- 
 ing the New Jerusalem Messenger. 
 
 His last pastorate was in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania. In 1853 he 
 suffered much from a painful ulcer in his right hand. By the advice 
 of physicians the hand was cut off. This checked the disease for a 
 time, but later it was necessary to have a second amputation. Finally 
 the disease broke out again imder his arm and in July of 1854 an 
 artery was ruptured and death ensued. 
 
 This very bald account of the mere events of this man's life gives 
 no idea of the sweet loving spirit which animated it. 
 
 Perhaps extracts from an encouraging letter written to my father in 
 1852 will give some notion of the rare character of the man. Mr. 
 Giles, with some doubt as to his own abilities as a preacher, and feel- 
 ing also his lack of theological training, had written to Mr. Powell 
 for advice as to the method of writing a sermon. Nothing could be 
 more divergent from the actual plan followed by Mr. Giles than the 
 advice given on the preparation of sermons, but the letter is one of 
 kindly encouragement and must have cheered the heart of its recipient. 
 
 To C. Giles from Rev. D. Powell 
 
 Twenty Mile Stand, Warren Co., Ohio. 
 July 5, 1852. 
 
 Whether any particular trutli should be called forth or not in our 
 correspondence may not be very material, as tliere is another good 
 within our reach in these brotherly communications. That good is 
 mutual and reciprocal spiritual affection. And good, you know, is the 
 ground for truth. Cultivate love and truths will be received. I truly 
 and reciprocally rejoice with you that the " little band of New Church 
 ministers in tliis state are united in the bonds of love," and devoutly 
 do I pray that such union may continue, grow stronger, and be in- 
 creased in numbers. And sincerely do I hope that I may do my part 
 in keeping alive our bond of Union. 
 
 -^i 147 }•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I can appreciate your dilTiculties in sermonizing in your present 
 condition, and gladly would I aid you were it in my power. When 
 I commenced preaching I too was teaching school and had to write 
 my sermons as you do now. Sometimes I had to sit up preparing for 
 Sunday until after midnight. Look to tlie Lord, dear brother, and 
 He will sustain you. 
 
 Permit me to drop a hint in preparing sermons. Take for a text 
 a passage Swedenborg has fully explained. Put that explanation in 
 your own language in tlie form of a sermon. If you even give long 
 extracts it will do no harm. This may facilitate your preparations. 
 
 Practical sermons are certainly useful, and can never be properly 
 objected to. 
 
 Although I have preached a number of doctrinal sermons at Shef- 
 field and otlier places in that region, still tliat need not keep you from 
 preaching doctrinal sermons there too. For persons that never heard 
 me will hear you and will require the doctrines explained to them. 
 And besides, your method of explaining doctrines will not be mine, 
 and hence instruction to those who may have heard me on the same 
 subject will not be amiss. 
 
 I have frequently been invited to preach on the same subject the 
 second time in the same place. So you may preach there as though 
 I never had. 
 
 I sincerely hope all our brethren and friends will have a right 
 understanding of the matter and do all they can to sustain you, — not 
 with money only, but with their presence at worship and the sphere 
 of New Church affection. 
 
 An account of a visit to Grandpa Espy gives also an idea of the 
 affectionate relations of New Churchmen of the time. 
 
 It tells how dear old Mrs. Espy kissed Mr. Giles when he left, of 
 their encouraging remarks about his sermons, how Mr. Espy took him 
 to the cars and told him how much he liked him, and how he had en- 
 joyed his visit. " He wanted to know why I did not have a watch. 
 I told him I was expecting to get one soon. He said he had one that 
 he should like to have me accept if I would, and though it is not such 
 a watch as I want, I could not but take it. I shall keep it as a me- 
 mento of real affection which rarely exists in this world." 
 
 -4 148 ^-
 
 NEW CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE WEST 
 
 Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 Twenty Mile Stand, Dec. 27, 1852. 
 
 I have had a very pleasant chat with Mr. Espy and others. After 
 dinner they wanted me to read to them a sermon. We all gathered 
 around the stove and I read diem the one on the clause of the " Lord's 
 Prayer." They seemed much interested in it, and when I got through 
 Mr. Espy said that was what he called New Church preaching. They 
 all seemed much delighted with it. It is so dark I must stop. 
 
 I read my sermon on " Leaves " to them last night. Mr. Espy says 
 he diinks it is about the best sermon he ever heard. They were all 
 very much delighted with it. He thinks it is a pity I did not commence 
 preaching sooner. They are trying to get up a little meeting to-night 
 and I suppose I shall speak. Mr. Powell returned this morning. His 
 hand has become so bad that he is obliged to discontinue preaching 
 for some time. He wants to send Cora to school to me next summer 
 if he can. She had the neuralgia last night in her face. She has 
 suffered very much from it this winter. I prescribed aconite and she 
 was relieved before bedtime. 
 
 Grandpa thinks we acted very wisely in not removing to Urbana, 
 and I tliink so too. // / live ten years longer I shall be knoivn more 
 widely than I am now, I think, though I cannot say that I am ambi- 
 tious. Wliile seated in the church and looking around upon the multi- 
 tude of well-dressed people, I thought how I should like to fill such 
 a position as Mr. Stuart does, but I cannot say that I should be very 
 eager to exchange positions with him. I do not think he has better 
 society than we have. His income is no greater, and I doubt whether 
 he exerts a much greater influence. There are some things in his 
 situation which I should enjoy very much, — his chance to read and 
 write. On the whole, I think we have every reason to be contented 
 even if our water is black and hard to get. By the way, Anna says 
 a little flour sprinkled in coal water will settle it. Try it. 
 
 In the effort to establish an external New Church organization, there 
 was much work to be done by the early New Churchmen. In this they 
 had but little help from Swedenborg, who contented himself with pub- 
 
 -4^ 149 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 lishing the truths which should form a basis for the Church of the 
 future without going into details of ecclesiastical arrangements and 
 government. Tlie first meetings were more in the nature of friendly 
 conference and the services were very simple. The necessity for an 
 orderly ritual of worship became evident at a very early date. 
 
 In the 18l0's, the time of which I write, the General Convention had 
 met annually with but few exceptions since 1817. It was formed by 
 various societies of the New Church which had united for the regula- 
 tion of affairs relative to the better ordering of the Church at large. 
 One of the first subjects to engage this body's attention, and one which 
 was a fruitful topic of discussion for many years, was the better 
 ordering of the ministry. At the second Convention, which met in 
 Baltimore, and at every Convention thereafter for many years, this 
 subject was discussed and committees were formed to make regulations 
 concerning it. The reader should bear in mind that the early converts 
 to New Church theology were drawn from many different sects of the 
 Old Christian Church. Naturally they brought with them traditions 
 of the forms to which they had been accustomed. The predominating 
 feeling was that there was a necessity for a unity of plan, though 
 ideas for its practical development were widely divergent. A very 
 small minority thought ordination entirely unnecessary; the extremely 
 opposite view was represented by those who wished to have the clergy 
 endowed with much power, and advocated a system which should 
 include a general Bishop, lesser Bishops, etc. Whether there should 
 be separate ordinations for each degree, whether a candidate in the 
 case of three degrees could be ordained into all three at the same time, 
 — these and similar questions which developed under debate were fruit- 
 ful themes of discussion and difficult of settlement. 
 
 An important resolution was passed in 1826 by which the responsi- 
 bility for the ordination of ministers was transferred to Convention. 
 Hitherto this had rested with the ministers of the New York, Phila- 
 delphia, and Baltimore societies. 
 
 The subject was by no means definitely settled by this decision, for 
 details concerning it were debated at every Convention meeting there- 
 after. When in 1838 the " Rules of Order," which embodied an elab- 
 orate system of ecclesiastical government in the Episcopal form, were 
 adopted, and it was further declared that those organizations which 
 did not give their consent to this measure should not be included in 
 Convention, the societies of Philadelphia, Baltimore, New York, and 
 Maryland withdrew, and formed themselves into the Central Conven- 
 
 -^ 150 ^'-
 
 NEW CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE WEST 
 
 tion. There were now three Conventions: the Western Convention, 
 formed by Rev. Thomas Newport in 1818, this new Central Conven- 
 tion, and the original General Convention known to the other two, 
 though it did not accept the title, as the Eastern Convention. Both 
 the Western and the Central Conventions were short-lived. The 
 former was afterwards known as the Ohio Association and as such 
 joined the General Convention in 1847. The Central Convention, 
 formed in protest against the " Rules of Order," lacked excuse for 
 continuance when they were annulled, and interest in it gradually 
 lessened until it ceased to exist. 
 
 Other matters engaging the attention of the good Fathers in the 
 Church were the establishment of a suitable liturgy, the subject of 
 church music, provisions for Sunday schools and die education of 
 children, the furtherance of missionary work, and the nucleus for a 
 Theological School. 
 
 In all these subjects the strong, earnest men of Ohio were much in- 
 terested, were decided in their opinions, and by no means unanimous. 
 
 The history of the Cincinnati society presents in miniature some of 
 the conditions of Convention. Certainly many of the early New 
 Churchmen were somewhat disputatious, — a condition of mind which 
 was perhaps a natural outgrowth from the necessary arguments with 
 self which individuals experience in leaving the Old Christian Church 
 and entering the New. 
 
 The founder of the Cincirmati society was Rev. Adam Hurdus, a 
 native of Manchester, England. Its members, twenty-two in number, 
 met at the house of their pastor in 1808. An attractive feature of the 
 services was music from an organ built by Mr. Hurdus himself. It 
 is said that there were some Indians in attendance at these early meet- 
 ings. When the first chapel was built " Mr. Hurdus was so respected 
 by the community that many prominent citizens outside of the society 
 came forward to contribute. In July, 1816, he was ordained by Mr. 
 Hargrove, and afterwards became himself an ordaining minister." 
 The Society was incorporated in July, 1818. " From all accounts 
 this first minister was a most lovely and attractive character. ... He 
 seems to have been a friend to every one," and never became em- 
 broiled in any of the disputes of the time. He lived to be over eighty- 
 three. One of the first measures taken by the society was the adoption 
 of Rules of Government. As in other places, the subject of rebaptism 
 was a fruitful source of debate, and minute rules for baptism and die 
 Holy Supper were adopted, only to be repealed two years later. 
 
 -4 151 }3^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 No one can read the brief " Outline of the History of the Cincinnati 
 Society " without being impressed with tlie numerous constitutions 
 adopted, rejected, and improved by these people. From the first one, 
 in 1828, there were in the next twenty years no less than six constitu- 
 tions formed. One of these was made by the Third Society, — a short- 
 lived organization begun in protest against the chaotic conditions of 
 church government and the lack of definite rules. Certainly its foun- 
 ders indicated the extremely opposite swing of the pendulum, as their 
 constitution, consisting of minute rules, filled seventeen pages of the 
 Record Book. 
 
 In the early days of the New Church everywhere, it is safe to say 
 that its members were more diligent students of Swedenborg than at 
 this time. In 1827 twelve of these earnest men formed themselves 
 into the Tlieosophical Society and met weekly. They discussed a wide 
 range of subjects, but always from a New Church standpoint. The 
 membership was for many years confined to the laity and limited to 
 twelve members. This society was very influential. 
 
 In 1829 the Cincinnati Society had three ministers, all serving 
 gratuitously. There were three services every Sunday, Rev. Adam 
 Hurdus, Mr. Lovell, and Mr. Roe officiating, each at a different 
 service. 
 
 From the time of the formation of the society in 1818 until Mr. 
 Giles came to Cincinnati in 1853 there were, including Mr. Hurdus, 
 who continued amidst all the changes to minister to the First, the Sec- 
 ond, and occasionally the Third Society for twenty-five years, nine 
 different ministers. This does not include the services of the beloved 
 teacher, Mr. Alexander Kimnont, who formed the Second Society of 
 the New Jerusalem in 1835. " Mr. Kinmont had been what was then 
 called a minister; later the term licentiate was used, and now we say 
 ' authorized candidate.' " Mr. Kinmont had been teaching New 
 Church truth for some time, and as many enjoyed his teaching they 
 wished him to continue, but were not animated by any spirit of oppo- 
 sition to the First Society. As the circular quaintly expresses it, it 
 was desired " to have only a few to begin in obscurity and take the 
 lowest place." In 1838 the General Convention was asked to place 
 Mr. Kinmont's name on the list of ministers, and that Mr. Hurdus be 
 authorized to ordain him. The request was denied, however, for tech- 
 nical reasons, which resulted in " considerable feeling and decided 
 action, but the deadi of Mr. Kinmont a few months later brought an 
 end to the contention." After this Mr. Hurdus took charge of the 
 
 -4 152 ^'-
 
 NEW CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE WEST 
 
 society, and upon his death " nearly all the members became members 
 of the First Society, a loving tribute to Mr. Hurdus closing the records 
 of the First Society." 
 
 The Third New Church Society already mentioned brought during 
 its seven years of existence two more preachers to Cincinnati, — • a 
 Mr. C. F. Kellogg, who acted as leader for a few months, and Mr. 
 N. C. Burnham, who ministered for three years, being ordained a few 
 months after he entered upon his duties. 
 
 Merely to name the clergymen officiating in Cincinnati to one 
 who knows anything of their character will show tliat most of them 
 had much influence in diff'ering tendencies of the Church. Of Mr. 
 Hurdus we have already spoken in detail; Mr. A. Lee came into 
 the New Church from the Quakers, and after a short time returned 
 to them. 
 
 Of Mr. Carll we hear much in the early history of the Church in 
 Philadelphia and Baltimore. He was very active in missionary work, 
 and sowed the seeds of New Church doctrine in Pennsylvania, Virginia, 
 and Ohio, during a trip made in 1817. He traveled from Philadel- 
 phia by stagecoach and steamboat, distributing tracts on the former 
 and conversing on the topic nearest his heart with his fellow travelers 
 on the latter. He stopped at various places, preaching either at pri- 
 vate houses or in Court Houses. He sums up his trip thus: "After 
 an absence of thirty-nine days I have traveled eight hundred miles, 
 baptized thirty-seven souls, administered the sacrament twice, pro- 
 claimed the Heavenly Doctrines of the New Jerusalem twenty times 
 to not fewer than two or three thousand persons, many of whom had 
 never heard of them before." 
 
 How joyfully he was received at the home of David Powell, Sr., at 
 Steubenville, Ohio! Here he preached five times, administered the 
 Sacrament of the Holy Supper in the Court House, and explained the 
 New Church doctrine concerning it. 
 
 Of Mr. De Charms, who was also a pastor in Philadelphia and New 
 York, I shall speak more fully in connection with those societies. 
 
 Mr. Prescott's name is invariably mentioned with respect as one 
 of the best and most influential of the early ministers, and it is always 
 added that he was afterwards known as Mr. Prescott-Hiller. 
 
 Of him we leam more from a short article called " One Saint Less," 
 which was written by die Rev. Moses Coit Tyler, a Congregational 
 minister; it was published in the Independent and copied into the 
 New-Church Messenger. Mr. Tyler writes: 
 
 -4 153 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I came to know him well; and the impression grew upon me that he 
 was the most unique man, as well as one of the purest, loftiest, and 
 most gifted tliat I ever encountered. 
 
 He had tlie appearance of an ample physical life, yet he was so 
 lifted above animalism that all intellectual life seemed absolutely 
 easy to him. Mr. Hiller was the most regular brain worker that can 
 be imagined. With the utmost simplicity, with a candor so childlike 
 that it kept in abeyance my sense of the ludicrousness of his communi- 
 cation, he explained to me his habits of work. Each day of the week 
 was consecrated to its peculiar occupation, from which arrangement 
 he not only never deviated, but was never tempted to deviate. It was 
 something like this: "Sunday," he said, "of course is my preaching 
 day. I have no exercises on that day except those which favor my 
 spiritual and physical efficiency for preaching. Then Monday is 
 poetry day. I always sit down Monday morning and write and polish 
 just ten lines of an epic poem on which I am engaged. I always write 
 poetry on Monday and I never do it on any other day. Then in the 
 afternoon I read in the British Museum. Tuesday is my letter day. 
 I do all my correspondence that day. Wednesday is my Hebrew day. 
 I read so many verses in the Hebrew Bible and write commentaries 
 upon them. Thursday is my Greek Testament day. Friday and Sat- 
 urday are sermon days." It cost him no effort to conform to this 
 routine, which would be so intolerable to most of us. Indeed to him 
 it was not routine. His soul had touched tlie principle of order, and 
 he freely and pleasurably revolved in this never-varying orbit of 
 duty. . . . Knowing but little and accepting still less of the peculiar 
 doctrines of his church, I shall always be grateful for the spiritual 
 benefit of having known this poet, scholar, and saint. I cannot im- 
 agine death to have wrought much change in him, either as to labor 
 or communion. In going to Heaven he had not far to go; and I have 
 no doubt that he has already begun there a new epic poem, or may 
 even be trying to finish the old one, and that he will arrange his studies 
 as systematically and pursue them as diligently as he did upon earth. 
 It is needless to say: Peace with him! It were better to say: May 
 some of his peace be with us! 
 
 -4 154 }>'-
 
 NEW CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE WEST 
 
 During a leave of absence granted to Mr. Prescott to visit England, 
 the Rev. Sabin Hough officiated. Mr. Prescott did not return to this 
 country but remained in the British Isles until his death. 
 
 Mr. Barrett came from New York to Cincinnati, but finding the 
 climate did not agree with him he left Cincinnati because of failing 
 health, and for a time, until his health was restored, engaged in the 
 roofing business. 
 
 Mr. Stuart, a tall man with dark eyes and a somewhat dry, reserved 
 manner, did much work as a missionary in Ohio after he left the 
 Presbyterian Church. His visits to Hamilton were highly prized by 
 Mr. Giles in the days of his first reading of Swedenborg. Mr. Stuart 
 left Cincinnati to become a teacher at Urbana University. 
 
 At the time Mr. Giles went to Cincinnati another temple, completed 
 in 1834, replaced the first chapel; there was a small parsonage on 
 Seventh Street, a good library of New Church books, and a flourishing 
 Sunday school. An amusing objection was made to the formation of 
 a Sunday school when the project was in its infancy, "that it would 
 interfere with the spiritual freedom of the children." 
 
 Mr. Milo G. Williams, who for so many years afterwards was iden- 
 tified with Urbana, opened in 1840 a secular school exclusively for 
 the children of New Church parents. This was discontinued after a 
 few years. 
 
 There are many other New Churchmen of that period of whom it 
 would be pleasant to speak. They were men of sterling character, de- 
 cided in their opinions, and with an absorbing love for tlie freedom of 
 the individual. 
 
 At the time of Mr. Giles's entrance upon his ministry in Cincinnati 
 the Society did not belong to the General Convention. It had with- 
 drawn from the Ohio Association because that body was represented 
 in Convention, and the Cincinnati Society did not approve of the Con- 
 vention Rules of Order. 
 
 -4 155 )§."•
 
 N< 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 Cincinnati Pastorati:, 1852-1862 
 
 ow at the age of forty years Mr. Giles was to enter upon his 
 life work. He preceded his family to the city, returning to Pomeroy 
 for them afterwards, and on October 23, 1853, preached his first 
 sermon for the Cincinnati Society. Rev. J. P. Stuart introduced him. 
 The subject of his sermon was, "The Duties and Necessary Qualifi- 
 cations of a Minister." 
 
 On the arrival of the family in Cincinnati they went to Mr. Hin- 
 man's and stayed until the parsonage on Seventh Street was ready 
 for them. 
 
 After they were settled Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 I feel now that I am just beginning a great new work. To perform 
 it aright I should have entered upon it years ago. But I will do the 
 best I can. 
 
 After lecturing to a very small audience on a stormy evening he 
 
 says: 
 
 I was quite disheartened. I expect this is a trial I shall have to meet 
 and it will be one which I can see will discourage me: to have my 
 preaching treated with indifference. I am aware it is a sign of my own 
 imperfection and I hope I shall be able so to bear it that it may do 
 me good. 
 
 After attending the funeral of a little child he says: 
 
 Oh, how cheering are the doctrines of the New Church on such 
 occasions! I was much affected myself, could hardly control my 
 voice. This is something I must correct. The sight of a sad face in 
 church almost makes me weep, or at least so excites me that I can 
 hardly control my voice. 
 
 -4 156 )■>-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 Jan. 5, 1854. Married Mr. Sobieski C. Smith and Mary Sontag 
 about four o'clock in the morning. This is the first couple I ever 
 married and I did it with some trepidation. However, I got through 
 as well as I anticipated. Later he mentions attending the funeral of 
 a little child and being much affected by the grief of the relatives; 
 again he baptized an adult and an infant for the first time in church: 
 ■' Felt quite embarrassed. Wife thought I got along as well as I could 
 wish." 
 
 Sometimes the Cincinnati hospitality was too great a drain upon 
 his strength. He writes: 
 
 I have been to a party every night so far tliis week. No human 
 constitution can stand such a drain upon it. I must give up going 
 out nights. The evenings are really the best time to study and I must 
 improve them, although if I study all day I must rest in the evening. 
 
 At the close of the season's lectures he says: 
 
 The course, if it may be called so, has not been very successful. 
 But few have attended, compared with such courses by some of my 
 predecessors. But I believe the interest increased, and that I have suc- 
 ceeded quite as well as I could expect considering my want of knowl- 
 edge of the duties and general offices of my profession and my want 
 of practice in composition. 
 
 Early in the year 1855 Mr. Giles received a letter from Mr. Otis 
 Clapp of Boston. It was written to sound him as to his acceptance 
 of an invitation to go to Boston for one year as assistant to the Rev. 
 Thomas Worcester. 
 
 He says in reply, January 30, 1855: 
 
 If I know my own wishes I desire to be where I ought to be, that 
 is, where I can perform the most use; and if I could see that that 
 place is Boston, I should certainly go there if tlie way were opened 
 for me. 
 
 I could not think of it, however, unless there was a very decided 
 
 -4 157 )§►•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 wish on the part of your Society to have me, and unless I thought that 
 desire was founded upon a correct general knowledge of my character 
 and abilities. 
 
 I hardly know how I am regarded here. Everything is quiet, and 
 tlie church seems to be gradually coming into a more united and 
 better state than formerly. The elements of discord are becoming 
 less active. The younger members of the church and society seem 
 to be drawing more closely around me. But I do not know whether 
 it is merely from the surface or from novelty or from a real internal 
 ground. 
 
 I should have no objection to being an assistant. Indeed I should 
 prefer to act in that capacity at first, provided my duties and my rela- 
 tions to my senior were clearly defined so that I could act in freedom 
 in my own circle of uses. The leisure such a position would afford 
 for a more thorough study of the philosophy and doctrines of the 
 Church and more careful preparation of my discourses would be ex- 
 ceedingly pleasant to me, also the general course of duty, especially 
 that relating to the young. Nothing could be more congenial to all my 
 habits of life. However, I have not now sufficient data to answer in- 
 telligently. I must wait the leading of the Divine Providence which, 
 from my inmost heart, I wish to follow. 
 
 The definite invitation from the Boston Society was received in the 
 following September, and declined. After giving several reasons 
 for diis decision Mr. Giles says: 
 
 At a general meeting of the Society and congregation it was the 
 unanimous wish — only one person not voting — that I should be 
 elected the Pastor of the Society. This entire imanimity and the very 
 evident desire expressed in various ways by old and young that I 
 should remain, and the general opinion that I am performing an im- 
 portant use here, have had more weight with me than all others. 
 
 The following letters to his wife were written at dates long after 
 Mr. Giles's decision to remain in Cincinnati, but these extracts from 
 them are appropriate here as indicative of his warm admiration of 
 the New England New Church people. 
 
 -^ 158 ^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 Boston, July 31, 1856. 
 
 You say that the mode of life of the New Church people here you 
 think would suit you, and I have no doubt it would in some respects. 
 Many things in it are admirable and worthy of imitation. They are 
 very systematic, orderly, industrious, and have gatliered about them 
 many of the comforts and luxuries of life. Of more interest to me 
 than anything else here are the beautiful domestic relations that seem 
 and I doubt not do exist among the better portions of the people. 
 There is a tenderness and respectful deference between husband and 
 wife, children and parents, which is very beautiful and worthy of 
 imitation. I suppose, however, if we should go into the families we 
 should find they were not all perfect. We should find discord and in- 
 subordination, and many trials. I believe with you, however, that 
 on the whole tliey are the best people I know and worthy of imitation. 
 Mr. Reed's family, I think, is one of the pleasantest if not the pleas- 
 antest in which I have ever been, and the more I see of it the better 
 I like it. 
 
 I think I can see many ways in which we might improve our domes- 
 tic relations, so that your duties would be less onerous and it would 
 be pleasanter for all. Certainly I will do all I can. I think we have 
 lived too much in a hurry, and I expect I have lived too much to 
 myself. I was for so many years entirely alone that it is very difficult 
 to break up the habit of being absorbed in my own thoughts when I 
 ought to be communicating them to others. 
 
 Boston, June 14. 1858. 
 We had a glorious meeting yesterday. I wish you could have been 
 here. The music was positively grand, and the sphere of the New 
 Heaven was most perceptible. There were four hundred and twenty- 
 two at the Communion in the afternoon. More than ever assembled 
 for that purpose at once, on earth before. In the evening we had a 
 pleasant meeting for sacred music; I tliink no one could spend a day 
 under such influences and not be better or worse for it. To-day 
 we have been out into the bay on a steamer chartered for diat 
 purpose. 
 
 -♦■{ 159 }a«~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hayden took tea at Mr. Reed's to-night and I had quite 
 a chat with Mrs. Hayden. She is a character, I can assure you. I 
 have met and had some very pleasant talks with T. S. Arthur. He is 
 a very quiet man, has a most expressive eye. 
 
 I am in that beautiful library at Mr. Chandler's that you remember 
 so well, in which we had such a pleasant tea with the whole Con- 
 vention. It is Sunday afternoon. The most of the family have gone 
 to Sunday School. I have taken my nap, and while I have a moment's 
 leisure I will write a few words to you. I stayed with Professor Par- 
 sons night before last. Miss Chandler came to Mr. Reed's after din- 
 ner and invited me to take tea with them at Cambridge, and I accepted 
 the invitation. I had a very pleasant visit and Miss Chandler, the 
 authoress of the essays, contributed not a little to it. I had a long 
 talk with her. She has rather a loud and harsh voice, and at the first 
 does not impress one so favorably as her sister. The more I saw of 
 her, however, the better I liked her. She said she was afraid she 
 should not like my sermon as well when she came to read it as she 
 did when she heard it in the church. She thought perhaps I had mag- 
 netized her, but she liked it better if anything than when she heard it 
 from me. She wanted to know what I had written, etc., but you will 
 think me vain if I say anything more about myself, and I will stop. 
 We came into Boston in the morning and she went home to Lancaster. 
 I dined at Mr. Reed's. Mr. Hayward was there. After dinner I came 
 to Brookline and we drove about the town, which seems more beautiful 
 than ever. About five o'clock we went on to the Mill Dam to see a 
 regatta on Charles River. It was a very pleasant sight, but I will not 
 attempt a description. I came back and took tea and spent the night 
 at Mr. Chandler's. Mrs. Chandler is a lovely woman. I walked with 
 her this morning before breakfast around her grounds, which are 
 much more beautiful than they were when we were here before. She 
 has seven children. After we returned from church this morning I 
 went into the parlor and I found her sitting in an armchair, with two 
 grown-up daughters and a niece and some one else kneeling around 
 her and listening to something she was telling them. There was so 
 much ease and unaffected simplicity in the whole scene that I was 
 
 -4 160 ^-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 quite charmed with it. She has the name of being a most excellent 
 and amiable woman by all who know her. But I must close my long 
 letter, as it is about time to go to Mr. Wellman's and it looks very 
 much like a shower. Perhaps you recollect that Mrs. Wellman is a 
 sister of Mrs. Mowatt, now Ritchie. As I shall see more of her I shall 
 be able to tell you more when I write again. The air is filled here with 
 the songs of the robin, the Baltimore oriole, and the bobolink. I 
 have not spent a Sabbath for years which so carried me back to my 
 boyhood. 
 
 There had been serious illness in the family, and the diary records 
 that on the 14th of July his wife and children had so far recovered 
 that they left home and spent some weeks in Palmyra. 
 
 Mr. Giles went to the city of New York and spent several days with 
 Professor Bush and made some very agreeable acquaintances. Profes- 
 sor Bush he found to be a very pleasant man and, of course, learned. 
 From New York he went to Boston. Mrs. Giles had remained in Pal- 
 myra, and her husband thus writes to her on September 8th, 1858, 
 their wedding anniversary. 
 
 If I were with you I would like to take you to tlie old stone house 
 in which thirteen years ago to-day we began life together. I have 
 thought of it much to-day. Since then we have seen many changes 
 and passed through many trials. We have been led in a way that I did 
 not expect and that you did not. The first years of our married life 
 were years of great suffering to you, and me also. And indeed every 
 year we have had our share of suffering. The current of life has not 
 gone smoothly with us. And yet have we not on the whole attained 
 to even higher states of good than we anticipated? If we have suf- 
 fered, have we not also enjoyed? We certainly have accomplished 
 much for ourselves and our race. We have four children in heaven. 
 Our eldest must be grown to adult life by this time. It seems to me at 
 times as if I could almost see him, clad in flowing garments of spotless 
 purity, the beauty of innocence and unalloyed joy sparkling in his 
 face, accompanied by those as spotless as himself, and doubtless by 
 the other little ones who have followed him. We have four with us 
 also. We could hardly wish them to be otherwise than they are. We 
 
 -4 161 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 certainly could not expect them to Ijc better. They are a blessed 
 heritage. It seems to me to give nobility to life, that we have been 
 made tlie instruments of giving birth to them, and there is no higher 
 work for us than to train them according to the best of our ability. 
 I sometimes feel sad when I think that we have not succeeded in ac- 
 cumulating any property; but when I see the use that is made of it 
 by those who have succeeded, and how little it contributes to their 
 happiness, how poor they are, how many children are spoilt by it, — 
 to say the least, my grief is very much relieved. If we had better 
 health we could do more and enjoy more; but I do not expect we 
 shall either of us ever enjoy perfect physical healtli and we must 
 make the best of what we have. 
 
 A letter to Chauncey, aged three 
 
 Cincinnati, Oct. 9, 1854. 
 
 My dear little boy Channie: Why don't you come home to see 
 me? I want to see you so much. It seems so lonely here without you. 
 No little boy comes to my study door now and raps and cries, " Pa, 
 Pa, Pa, will you please to open the door? " I have no little boy to 
 sit by me at the table and help me eat my breakfast. Your little chair 
 stands in the comer but there is nobody to sit in it. I am going to 
 get one for Carrie, and then Mamma can have Carrie sit by her and 
 I can have you sit by me. Won't that be nice? 
 
 Since I commenced writing this letter Mrs. G. has been in. You 
 remember her, do you not? She brought you some books when you 
 were sick. She wanted to know if you were well and she was very 
 glad to hear that you are. Lucy writes to me that you are a very 
 good boy. I like good boys and I am glad to hear that you try to 
 be good. I expect you had a very nice time at Bloomfield. Did 
 you get any nuts for me? And did you see any squirrels in the woods 
 or on the trees when you went after the nuts? 
 
 I want to see you very much. Aren't you coming home pretty 
 soon? I have to sleep all alone, and I don't have anybody to bother 
 me a bit. Kiss Carrie and Mamma for me, and come and see me as 
 soon as you can. Good night. 
 
 -4 162 }»"-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 The record of the years 1854 to 1855 deals abnost entirely with the 
 duties of his profession. In fact, after the first few months there is 
 little or no diary but merely the titles of sermons or lectures, mention 
 of funerals attended, or baptisms or marriages chronicled. Many 
 of his discourses were delivered extempore, a practice which he after- 
 wards abandoned almost entirely. 
 
 It was a long journey from his home on Vine Street hill to the 
 church. An omnibus was the only public conveyance and that was not 
 always convenient. Mr. Giles had a horse, but mentions that it was 
 stolen from the church door one Sunday in 1856. As he had one after- 
 wards I do not know whether he recovered this one or obtained another. 
 
 As indicated in the letter of advice from Mr. Powell on the prepa- 
 ration of sermons, the best and most effective way of presenting truth 
 often engaged Mr. Giles's thoughts. He was constantly endeavoring 
 to improve his own methods; but his ideals so far outran their reali- 
 zation that he was much dissatisfied with his achievements. 
 
 The following thoughts on the subject were entered in his diary at 
 various times in the first years of his ministry. The effort to improve 
 and tlie means to effect such improvement continued throughout his 
 life. 
 
 It does not seem to me as if we had got hold of the right way of 
 preaching in the New Church yet. We deal too much with the dry 
 bones. It seems as though preaching ought to be more eloquent and 
 effective in the New Church than it has ever been, but its true form 
 and manner have not yet been developed. 
 
 The trutli is most of the New Church preaching is rather dry to 
 common minds, and indeed to all who are not carried away widi the 
 doctrines, that think only of the idea, however it may be expressed. 
 It seems to me that the New Church truths must be brought into forms 
 adapted to the states of those who hear, as far as possible. 
 
 I do not know why all art and all embellishment of which tliey are 
 susceptible should not be used to lead the minds of others to them. 
 
 Aug. 10, 1856. I must study more and I must make a study of 
 learning to write. I am not critical enough. I have not thought 
 enougli about die forms and proper structure of a sermon. I must 
 try to get a more familiar knowledge of language and a greater mas- 
 tery over it. There is no greater work than Uiat in which I am now 
 engaged, and I ought to be a workman worthy of my calling. 
 
 -4 163 }?►-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Cincinnati, Sept. 14, 1856. 11 one only had knowledge enough 
 and command of language enough he might preach. What a wonder- 
 ful field the New Church opens for charms of rational truth, for 
 fullness and beauty of illustration and expression. The Science of Cor- 
 respondences allows the widest scope of illustration, and is all derived 
 from actual relation; not mere figures, but the truth in another form. 
 
 I had not been well during the week, and it was very hard to write 
 my discourse. I was not in a very good mood for preaching but 1 did 
 the best I could. Did I? Do we ever? There may be some ques- 
 tion of that. Who does as well as he can in anytliing? 
 
 I lectured with a good deal of trepidation, [before Y. M. C. A., 
 Buffalo, N. Y.] for it was my first eft'ort at a distance from home. 
 The audience listened with deep attention and I tliink witli interest. 
 The lecture could not be called popular, for I am not a popular man 
 and have none of the arts to catch applause. My personal friends said 
 it was much better than they expected. 
 
 But I cannot grasp these subjects as I wish and 1 fear I may never 
 do it. Man's spiritual interests do not seem so real and important 
 as his natural and it is difficult to present them so that they will. But 
 we need more plainness and directness in preaching and talking about 
 the spirit. 
 
 In February, 1856, Dr. Lakey, my mother's uncle, was taken into 
 their home to be nursed and cared for during his last illness. The 
 diary merely records the fact that he is there and " needs a good deal 
 of attention." He died June 26, 1856. The "attention" which he 
 needed was given to him very faithfully. His nieces all loved their 
 uncle, and felt that to his interest and fostering care they owed much 
 of their best mental cultivation. They were somewhat in awe of him. 
 As one of them remarked, " Strange that one so loved should be so 
 feared! " His family letters are very strongly illustrative of his char- 
 acter, usually opening with some historical reference appropriate to 
 the date on which he wrote. This he would afterwards ingeniously 
 apply to some present conditions or to point a moral for my mother's 
 edification. 
 
 Over and over again was she advised to let the children use no word 
 
 -4 164 ^-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 they could not spell, to learn to reckon time aright, to begin to read 
 the Bible early, and to read from cover to cover, to divide the year 
 correctly, etc. One cannot but smile at the recommendation to this 
 mother of four young children and busy with household duties to read 
 Bacon and Lecky. When Mrs. Giles announced her intention of writ- 
 ing every day he says: 
 
 You have resolved to use your pen daily, an excellent resolution 
 which I adjure thee to keep religiously. But, my dear child, can you 
 do it? Are you willing to be called odd and eccentric? Alas, I fear 
 not. More than several liundrcd years ago an English poet said that 
 your sex was only fit " to suckle fools and chronicle small beer." Was 
 this a libel? This assertion is sustained by about 999/lOOOths of our 
 American females. I have known them to speak bad English from a 
 fear of beine unfashionable!! 
 
 'o 
 
 One of his letters mentions briefly the one hundredth anniversary 
 of the Masonic order in the United States, November 5, 1852. He 
 
 says: 
 
 I arrayed myself in masonic clothing: what had been a costly sash 
 and apron, but now, like its owner, much faded and timewom. This 
 was a Centennial celebration; it can happen but once in a hundred 
 years! I looked around upon the immense sea of heads that sur- 
 rounded me and reflected that by 1952 Death will have mowed his 
 harvest three times from the earth's surface! Tlien indeed "Our 
 names shall be a morning dream, a tale that 's told." Two venerable 
 octogenarians of our brethren were placed near the pulpit, for they 
 had actually sat in the same Lodge with Washington some sixty years 
 ago! I almost envied them the privilege of looking in the face of that 
 immortal man! 
 
 An excellent portrait of Dr. Lakey has always hung on the walls 
 of Mr. Giles's study, so his features have been familiar to the children 
 of the family and his memory has been kept alive by many interesting 
 anecdotes. I have in my possession a silver cup which we call the 
 "toddy cu])." It was used by Dr. Lakey, who had a good deal of 
 
 — ^:{ 165 }[*-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 handsome silver, for heating the water for his whiskey toddy. This 
 was so blackened by the smoke of the fire that its value was not dis- 
 covered by the burglars who stole the greater part of his silver. The 
 cup is inscribed: 
 
 Sacred to friendshij) and brotherly love 
 James Lakey. Bom. . . Died. . . 
 
 Strange that "Dr. Day and Date" should have omitted the figures 
 for his own birth and have failed to leave directions for tlie date of his 
 death. 
 
 On the 28th of December, 1855, previous to Dr. Lakey's coming 
 into the family, Edward Giles was bom. Thus during all Uncle 
 James's illness my mother had in addition the care of a young baby 
 and of two other children, aged respectively five and three. How did 
 she do it! The two older children, Lucy and Warren, were so early 
 trained into habits of usefulness that doubtless they were very help- 
 ful, but the pressure of many duties was great, and Mrs. Giles met it 
 with her usual quiet efficiency. 
 
 Although Mr. Giles decided, very wisely as after events proved, not 
 to go to Urbana as a professor of languages, his interest in the school 
 was very keen. As he was considered in Ohio one of the best edu- 
 cators in the state, the pioneers in the project naturally turned to him 
 for counsel. 
 
 In 1858 he was elected president, and although he never lived in 
 Urbana, for many years he was in constant touch with the affairs of the 
 school by visits and meetings with the trustees, and by letters to his 
 friend Mr. Milo G. Williams, who valued the correspondence so 
 highly that he preserved it entire and bound the letters in a volume. 
 
 These letters treat of various factors in the conduct of the school: 
 the organization of the faculty, the arrangement of classes, selection 
 of teachers, auditing of accounts, the use and choice of school- 
 books and studies, with occasional home news and more personal 
 matters. 
 
 Mr. Giles writes thus to Mr. Williams after agreeing to be president: 
 
 Cincinnati, July 28, 1858. 
 I have accepted the office of president with hesitation and reluct- 
 ance, not from any unwillingness to do all that I can for the College, 
 
 -^ 166 ^-
 
 -■{•P.-W**, 
 
 Ml!. AM) \li;s. (;||.ES 
 
 About 1857 
 During Cincinnati Pastorate
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 whose welfare I have always had very much at heart, but from the 
 fear that I might not be of any essential use to it. In making the de- 
 cision I have been guided quite as much by the advice and judgment 
 of others as by my own. The most that I can do at present must in 
 the nature of things be very little, for I am now overworked. I shall 
 try to be with you a few days at the beginning of the next term to 
 render you any assistance in my power, and in the mean time I shall 
 be glad to receive any communication from the professors touching 
 the interests of the College, that they may consider it useful to make 
 or for me to know. I hope there will be great freedom and friendli- 
 ness in our intercourse. 
 
 The little that I can do I shall do most cheerfully, and as far as 
 I am called upon to act I shall regard myself as a common laborer 
 widi the teachers for the common end. I would suggest to all the pro- 
 fessors the propriety of looking over the course of study and making 
 such alterations as their experience and wisdom may suggest, so that 
 we may have the subject in as mature and perfect a form as possible 
 when we meet. You may hand this letter to Professor Cathcart if you 
 please. 
 
 Most of the following were written before Mr. Giles accepted the 
 office of president. They give some idea of the variety of subjects 
 considered : 
 
 Cincinnati, Oct. 19, 1857. 
 
 Young Ager was licensed on the ground of his being yet a member 
 of the College and therefore within our jurisdiction, if we have any, 
 and because there is no general body of the Church in New Hampshire. 
 I do not think our New England friends will complain, but if they do, 
 you know we live in this great West and breathe the free western air. 
 and if we choose to annex New Hampshire who shall say us nay? 
 [Mr. Ager was ordained three years later at the first meeting of the 
 Ohio Association.] 
 
 If the professors have more than they can do, I think it would be 
 good policy to reduce the number of classes. It is wise to have as 
 few of them as possible, and sometimes a little forcing of the predi- 
 
 -4 167 }3^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 lections of scholars or a change of the order of their studies will 
 render such a practice feasible. 
 
 Cincinnati, Jan. 5, 1858. 
 
 I have given llie plan for the reorganization of the Faculty in the 
 College some more consideration, and I cannot see how it will obviate 
 any of the diflficulties with which we have had to contend. Calling men 
 by new names will not give them any new ability or reconcile any old 
 or already existing discrepancies. Besides, it adds another salary to 
 those we already have and find so difficult to pay. It is a novelty also, 
 so far as I know, to elect the officers of a College for a specified time. 
 
 It is generous and perhaps just to allow the Dean a percentage on all 
 moneys received and paid out, but in the present financial leanness of 
 the treasury I should doubt the propriety of such an arrangement unless 
 the percentage came from the students, and then I should doubt the 
 policy still more. 
 
 I hope some competent person will be appointed to audit the ac- 
 counts and supervise the whole financial condition of the College. 
 
 I am of the opinion that the natural sciences are better adapted to 
 cultivate habits of accurate observation and afford a greater amount 
 of knowledge that will enable young people to understand the doctrines 
 of the New Church than any other branches of study. I do not expect 
 that we can give Natural History that prominence which it intrinsically 
 deserves, but I think we should look to such an end. Language is 
 good, is essential, was once thought to be all that was necessary, but that 
 was a faith-alone principle. As the New Church descends there will 
 be a change in tliat respect. 
 
 Cincinnati, June 20, 1858. I went to Urbana this morning to attend 
 the Commencement of the Urbana University. Wife went with me. 
 We had a pleasant time and the students acquitted themselves very 
 creditably. 
 
 For the first time I presided at a Commencement and conferred the 
 Degrees on four young gentlemen and one young lady. Returned 
 June 23d. 
 
 -4 168 )^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 To Mr. Milo G. Williams 
 
 Cincinnati, Oct. 26, 1858. 
 I am very busy just now. Have you heard of the Concerts in the 
 process of production by the " Giles Family "? We are giving a series 
 of Parlor, Chamber, Kitchen, and miscellaneous Concerts, technically 
 — and authentically — called Whooping Cough concerts. I have five 
 children performing constantly, — a glorious quintette, I can assure 
 you. By constant attendance upon them I have become so much im- 
 bued witli the spirit that I can accompany them with a double bass, and 
 in some cases I have even succeeded in performing with great execu- 
 tion a solo. 
 
 In February, 1859, Mr. Giles organized a class for young people, — 
 a most important work, for by his sympathy with them and the interest 
 his teachings excited, their love for the doctrines and uses of the Church 
 was increased, tliey became greatly attached to him, and the society 
 became more united. Later in the year, in October, a class for young 
 ladies was formed. This class met at the pastor's house. 
 
 One of the members writes: 
 
 It was a walk of a mile and a half from where most of us lived to 
 the hills, and another half mile climb to tlie house, up a steep patli with 
 rough stone steps a part of the way. It was before the days of inclined 
 planes or even of street cars or omnibuses. And every week a party 
 of the young people would go over this toilsome route to see Mr. Giles 
 and have a meeting of a young people's class. 
 
 There was much illness in the family in March, so that it was not 
 singular diat on one of tlie Sundays Mr. Giles forgot his sermon. His 
 house was at too great a distance for him to return, so inwardly feeling 
 much embarrassed he preached extempore. Many years later he did 
 the same thing in New York, but as he lived near by he went home 
 for his sermon and returned to preach to a waiting congregation as if 
 nothing had occurred. Wlien, as sometimes ha[)pened. the family 
 would sit down to meals and my father failed to appear. Mother would 
 remark in her gentle way, "1 think your father must have an idea! " 
 He had "an idea" which so engrossed him one Sunday at church time 
 
 -*!{ 169 }§.■-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 that he forgot the service. Some one was sent to tell him, and with a 
 " Bless my soul ! " he hastily departed for church. 
 
 An entry in his diary shows his presence of mind during such un- 
 toward incidents: 
 
 When I was half through with my discourse a gust of wind blew the 
 slip of paper containing the heads of it away. I kept on, however, 
 without noticing it. 
 
 On another occasion a member of the family stopped him just in time 
 to prevent his appearance on the street with a foot of gaily colored 
 dressing gown hanging from beneatli his overcoat. 
 
 One Sunday in May, after the morning service, he drove to Rockland 
 and preached in tlie house of Mr. Robert Riley. On this occasion he 
 baptized sixteen persons, fifteen of whom were descendants of D. W. G. 
 Gano, one of die original members of the Cincinnati Society. The 
 house was a new one and the services were in part a " dedication to the 
 sacred uses of home." This Mr. Giles characterized as an " exceed- 
 ingly beautiful and impressive scene, truly worthy of imitation." 
 
 The year 1859, like most others, was a busy one. After tlie morning 
 service on Sunday, from October 24th to July 10th he preached nearly 
 every other Sunday in Glendale, one of Cincinnati's suburbs. Besides, 
 there were the lectures which were given in tlie church in the evening. 
 In May he stayed in New York for two Sundays, preaching morning 
 and evening to that Society. On June 12th he attended Convention in 
 Philadelphia. Of one meeting, in a home letter he makes the following 
 amusing comment: 
 
 I have made several short speeches in the Convention to-day and 
 expect to make another to-morrow. One was against a resolution pre- 
 sented by the Committee of ministers declaring that the Convention is 
 in favor of having ministers wear a clerical dress. I proposed to 
 amend the resolution so that it should read as follows: 
 
 " Resolved, that every minister dress as he pleases." The whole 
 matter was finally withdrawn without any action. Mr. Worcester has 
 appointed me to write an answer to the address of the English Con- 
 ference and that will keep me pretty busy to-night and to-morrow 
 morning. 
 
 -4 170 ^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 On July 24th he preached again in New York, and the following 
 Sunday in Boston. Early in August he visited Mr. Thomas Hitchcock 
 at Newport, Rhode Island, and baptized one of his children. 
 
 Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 Cincinnati, Jan. 13, 1860. This is a memorable day in my history. 
 Our dear little Eddie was taken from us by the Good Shepherd about 
 half past four o'clock this morning. His disease was measles accom- 
 panied by croup. He was ill but a little more than three days. He was 
 a beautiful, loving child, and his removal has left a great void in our 
 hearts. His age was four years, sixteen days. He was born the 28th 
 of December, 1855. Dear Soul! He has gone to be an angel; to dwell 
 in light and beauty and joy forever. It is not a sad thought, though we 
 miss him so much. So far the year has been one of very serious 
 alTliction. Sister Ellen, who for a long time has been a member of 
 our family, died at Decatur on the 3d of January, and I have been sick 
 most of the time and am now quite feeble. Carrie and Charlie have 
 also been ill and dear Wife is almost worn out with watching. I hope 
 we shall all be better soon. These afflictions I doubt not are for our 
 spiritual good in some way, and I acquiesce most cheerfully in the dis- 
 pensation of the Divine Providence, knowing that it is one of love and 
 mercy. 
 
 Cincinnati, Feb. 12, 1860. Preached an old discourse. The Society 
 has concluded to send me South a little while to recruit my health. 
 Sickness and affliction have prostrated me very much. It has been a 
 hard, a very hard winter for me. I know not what will be die result 
 of it. To-morrow I leave for New Orleans to be absent six or eight 
 weeks. I leave my family and Society behind. 
 
 Mr. Giles traveled South by one of the river steamers and mentions 
 that he preached on board the boat. This trip was not only beneficial 
 to his licaltli, but he met |)rominent New (Churchmen of the South like 
 Dr. lloliombe and Glcndy Burke. He baptized two of Dr. Hol(."und)e"s 
 children, and in New Orleans gave cheer to the little society which at 
 that time met in Mr. Burke's house. 
 
 -••gf 171 ^■■-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 From C. Giles to Mrs. Giles 
 
 Steamboat Charmer, Mississippi River, 
 Sabbath morning, March 25, 1860. 
 
 Now you are just setting out for church; I wish I were going willi 
 you. It will be a very happy moment for me when I can again stand in 
 my place and enter upon my duties. 
 
 Since I left home I have had time for reflection and I have seen my 
 work in a different light from what I ever did before and I hope I shall 
 be able to do it better. I have tried to see in what respects I have done 
 it poorly, how I have come short. Well, I have come short in every- 
 thing, but in some things more than others. Oh, if I could be instru- 
 mental in making our Society a genuine New Church Society in life 
 as well as doctrine; in bringing up the children in the love of the doc- 
 trines and in the purity of life which diey teach, I should be satisfied. 
 I am afraid our religion has been too much of the head. We must try 
 to get it more into the heart. 
 
 It is very pleasant to feel that you are regarded with interest and 
 pleasure by those who have never seen you. " Oh, yes, I know Mr. 
 Giles," say those to whom I am introduced, " I have read many of his 
 sermons." I have been asked by several to publish a volume of ser- 
 mons and I think I will do it. 
 
 How do you all do to-day? Oh, dear, dear, how I wish I could see 
 you! Won't it be a happy time when I am at home again! Wlien I 
 can have little Charlie climbing over me, and Carrie and Channie and 
 all of you around me. Won't it be a delicious meal even if there be 
 nothing but dry bread, when I can sit down with you all again! I am 
 sure the dining-room will look bright even on a cloudy day. Indeed, 
 even the coal smoke of Cincinnati will look clean and pleasant. I 
 don't allow my mind to dwell upon it; if I did I should not remain here 
 a day longer. I would not even wait for a boat, but take the cars, and 
 then I would want to be on the lightning train. What is life worth 
 without home? Not much to me. How thankful I am to our Heavenly 
 Father that in His Divine Mercy He has given me so good and pleasant 
 a one where all my thoughts centre, where my life takes root, in which 
 
 -'<i 172 ^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 I live wherever I may be. And you who are the centre of it, how can 
 I thank you enough? How shall I express how much I am indebted to 
 you? I cannot do it. But I will keep trying the next myriad of years, 
 and then I shall be more indebted to you than I am now. 
 
 When I kneel for worship at night it seems as though you came and 
 knelt on one side of me and our dear little angel Eddie on the other. 
 Do you? It is delightful to think of it, to feel it so sensibly. In thought 
 I am witli you most of the time, but you seem to come to me on this 
 occasion. 
 
 You mention the reception of my letter from Vicksburg. I was sick 
 of the boat life. There was so much that was offensive to any one with 
 a moral sense. I cannot describe to you the amount of degradation 
 I saw. Men throw off their pretensions at such times. I was reminded 
 often of things I have read in the Memorable Relations. But I was 
 treated very civilly and personally have no cause to complain. 
 
 After telling of some pleasant social experiences he continues: 
 
 I am a great ways off. By the river it is fifteen hundred miles. I 
 am very sorry to be separated from you and the children, but I know 
 it is good for me and the people here and for us all. " No good thing 
 will He withhold from them that walk uprightly." " All diings work 
 together for good to them that love God." This is surely so, and I 
 delight to think of it. 
 
 To Mrs. Giles from C. Giles 
 
 New Orleans, March 4, 1860. 
 It is now four o'clock p. m., a warm, beautiful day. I have felt a 
 little homesick, for I want to see you all so much. This has been a 
 great gala day. The fire companies have had a grand parade. The 
 streets are full of women, men, and children, of all colors and all na- 
 tions. There is music, noise, and swearing, and everything that is un- 
 like the peace of the Sabbath. If I look up to the heavens it is clear, 
 serene, and peaceful; if I look around me it is all tumult and confu- 
 sion. And so it is in all things. We must look to the mountains, 
 
 -■^ 173 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 whence doth come our help. We must look up and then we shall be 
 lifted above the cares and anxieties of natural life. 
 
 To Mrs, Giles from C. Giles 
 
 New Orleans, April 4, 1860. 
 
 I hope to follow diis letter so soon that if I do not overtake it I shall 
 be but a few days behind. I shall come in the cars, and if I find the 
 ride too fatiguing I shall lie by one train; but by the means of sleeping 
 cars I think I can go right through. The people say I look much better 
 than I did. Mr. Glascoe writes that you had snow the last Sunday in 
 March, and I am afraid it would be worse for me to go into cold now 
 than it would be to have remained in it. It has indeed afforded me 
 much pleasure to see that I could be of some use here, that I was not 
 quite laid on the shelf even if I could not preach much. 
 
 The Society meets in a room not much larger than our parlor, and it 
 is no more effort to read a sermon to them than it would be to sit down 
 and talk an hour. Mr. Burke read the service so that I did nothing but 
 deliver the discourse, and they were almost as glad to hear it as a 
 hungry man is to get a good meal. 
 
 Dr. Holcombe gave me medicine, which I am taking regularly, and I 
 think it is helping me. He says I ought not to think of going home 
 before the first of May; but I shall do as I have often done before, dis- 
 obey the doctors, and I hope with equally good results. 
 
 In the Diary we find this record: 
 
 Cincinnati, April 15, 1860. This has been a happy day for me. I 
 stood in my old place and saw the old faces upturned to me, heard the 
 old music, and felt the warm sphere of love with which I was greeted. 
 The attention was most profound and I felt much sustained. I have 
 never felt so much drawn to my people, and I hope I may long live 
 to be of use to them ; to preach better and in every way to do better than 
 I have ever done before. I must study more, visit more, talk more with 
 the young, and in every way do more for the cause of our Lord and 
 Master. 
 
 -^ 174 ^-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 In June Mr. and Mrs. Giles attended the General Convention in Chi- 
 cago. Here Mrs. Giles was taken ill. They remained in Chicago for 
 three weeks, and at the end of that time Mrs. Giles was taken to Cin- 
 cinnati, but did not fully recover her health until November. 
 
 To Mr. Milo G. Williams 
 
 Sept. 6, 1860. 
 
 Our Society has finally wheeled into line. Last evening we had a 
 meeting and voted unanimously to apply for admission into the General 
 Society. I have no doubt there were some who were opposed to it but 
 they stayed away. I think we shall have a good meeting, and I hope 
 Ohio will regain the place she once occupied in the front rank of those 
 who are working for the upbuilding of the Church. 
 
 Mrs. Giles, I am happy to say, is decidedly better. She begins to sit 
 up a little, a few minutes at a time. I think we shall know how to 
 appreciate the time, if it ever comes, when we shall not have to call upon 
 a doctor or take any medicine. My oldest son, Warren, has begun 
 school after an absence of two years. He takes hold of his studies 
 with real energy. 
 
 You will think this letter a miserable scrawl but I cannot help it. 
 I have the erysipelas in my wrist, and I found the pen I usually use so 
 stiff that I could not work very well and so have taken one of gutta- 
 percha, which is intended to be a substitute for a goose quill. I have 
 begun to copy my letters also and succeed just tolerably, but I shall 
 improve by practice. 
 
 Sept. 14, 1860. The General Society of the New Church in Ohio 
 met in the Temple this morning. It was much better attended than 
 usual and I think was a profitable meeting. The name was changed 
 from "General Society" to "Ohio Association." John Curtis Ager 
 was ordained and the Holy Supper was administered. Several were 
 present from the country. 
 
 Here follow various quotations from Mr. Giles's correspondence 
 with Mr. Williams which may be of general interest. 
 
 -4 175 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I shall concur most heartily in conferring the degree of A.M. upon 
 Mr. Ager and in having him installed into a professorship. This I 
 hope will he done. I have no douht Mr. Ager could do much good as 
 a missionary here, but I think he can do much more at Urbana. He is 
 yet young, and he can be perfecting his studies while he is performing 
 his duties as a professor in the college, and thus lay a broad and deep 
 foundation for greater usefulness in the future if he should some time 
 devote his whole strength to the ministry. 
 
 Can your society take hold of the matter about which we have talked 
 so much and done so little — a general missionary fund? Can you not 
 take up a collection or make up a subscription so that every one, even 
 the children, can have a chance to help in the good work? I should 
 like to hear from you on this subject and receive any suggestions that 
 may occur to you about the best mode of procedure. 
 
 Nov. 19, 1860. 
 On this date my wife returned home enough improved in health to 
 be able to walk about the house and sit up most of the day. 
 
 Mr. Giles's outlook went beyond his little society. In these extracts 
 from letters written to the Messenger are some of the helpful suggestions 
 he had in mind for the church. 
 
 The religious newspaper has been too long a battlefield upon which 
 the champions of different truths marshal their forces quite as often 
 to fight with each other as against those falsities which are the common 
 enemy of humanity. I would like to make it more like a room for 
 social gatherings and pleasant greetings. I want to talk to you, ray 
 brother and sister. I want comfort and strength from you. Has not 
 the Lord given you some message for me? 
 
 But we cannot go a thousand miles and carry these heavy bodies 
 along with us. May not the Messenger annihilate time and space for 
 us and bring us together; be our wishing-hat which we can clap upon 
 our heads and straightway be face to face? What say you, Mr. Editor? 
 Will you give us a welcome if we come not only to see you, but each 
 other? Will you let us chat a little even if we do not mind all our 
 
 -4 176 ^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 stops and express ourselves in the most correct and logical manner? 
 
 And if the Editor says "Yes," will you meet me, my friends in the 
 
 Messenger, once a week or month, as time and inclination permit? I 
 
 pause for a reply. 
 
 (Signed) Inquirer. 
 
 Again he writes: 
 
 I have been thinking about my last letter and I would like to say 
 something more about it. There are many subjects connected with 
 the instruction and worship of the Church upon which I think it would 
 be interesting and profitable to get the experience and practice of per- 
 sons in different parts of the country. Take the Sunday school, for ex- 
 ample: 1 would like to know how they conduct their schools in Chicago, 
 Boston, Cincinnati, Philadelphia, or in any place where there is one; 
 what they teach and how they teach it; what books they use and what 
 means to keep the pupils. Have they any systematic course of instruc- 
 tion in the doctrines? What books do they find suitable for a Sunday- 
 school library? I suppose there might be fifty-two such letters written 
 every year and a great amount of useful information communicated. 
 There are many other topics connected with worship in the church and 
 relating to the social intercourse of its members. Some who have had 
 experience might tell us what we ought to avoid as well as what we may 
 do. I think we may sometimes try to do things which cannot be done 
 and are disheartened when we ought to let them alone. 
 
 Scattered all over the land are many souls really rich in spiritual 
 knowledge and experience who might distribute their wealth a little 
 more freely. There is Professor Parsons; 1 think it would do him 
 good, and I know it would us, to give an occasional lecture in his fa- 
 miliar and interesting way upon moral and spiritual laws. I hope he 
 will not get entirely bound up in — what do they bind law books with? 
 Dr. Holcombe gives us an occasional prescription beautifully put up 
 in rhyme, but not half as often as would be good for our spiritual 
 health. 
 
 This letter gives the family news: 
 
 -4 177 is--
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 To Mrs. Almira Giles 
 
 Cincinnati, Sept. 9, 1860. 
 I am sorry to hear of Caroline's sickness. It is a great loss to have 
 the mother of a large family ill, as I know from sad experience. Emiice 
 is still confined to her bed almost entirely. Last week she began to sit 
 up a few minutes for the first time since she came home. It is eleven 
 weeks to-night since she became ill. I was very much afraid she was 
 going to leave me. She has not suffered much pain — except through 
 weariness of lying in bed so long. She has kept up good spirits. If 
 she had not been so uniformly cheerful I don't know how we could 
 have managed. Lucy has been our housekeeper, and a very faithful 
 and efficient one too. She is a good girl, — not perfect to be sure. She 
 knows how to do all kinds of work and she is willing to do it. She is 
 very patient and kind with Charlie (Charles Henry, bom Feb. 3, 1858), 
 who needs much attention. Those who have never lived in a city can- 
 not tell how much more labor it is to take care of a family of children 
 than it is in the country. They cannot be let out loose. You must 
 watch them all the time. And then the task of keeping them clean is 
 almost an endless and hopeless one. 
 
 Very numerous and varied were Mr. Giles's " interests " in all phases 
 of church work. Here are extracts from a few of the letters written at 
 this time: 
 
 To Dr. Wm. H. Holcombe 
 
 Cincinnati, Oct. 27, 1860. 
 The New Church papers are discussing the subject of Swedenborg's 
 infallibility. The interest in it has to me a great and important sig- 
 nificance. The New Church is to receive her greatest trial through spir- 
 itism and it seems proper that the first onslaught should be made upon 
 Swedenborg. If it can be made out that the New Church is not the 
 Church after all, that her doctrines are like all others, mere appear- 
 ances of truth, to be set aside when we have progressed a little farther, 
 we are but little better off than the old church. And there is still the 
 widest room for even those who profess to be New Churchmen to build 
 
 -4 178 ^-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 towers of Babel from their own self -derived intelligence only to find a 
 perpetual confusion of tongues. My own impression is that Sweden- 
 borg is about as final as the multiplication table and geometry. All 
 the advances we make hereafter will not consist in correcting and set- 
 ting him aside, but in carrj'ing out die principles he has disclosed to us. 
 When I read Swedenborg's scientific works I am lost in wonder at the 
 greatness of the man. His intellectual strength and insight overawe 
 and almost crush me. I want to eulogize and almost worship him. But 
 when I come to his tlieological writings I do not see the man at all. It 
 is only in the morning and evening and in high latitudes that we see 
 large shadows. In the full blaze of the meridian there are none. Ah, 
 how happy we are to be permitted to see these glories! How much hap- 
 pier we shall be if we make them our own by living and loving them. 
 
 In tlie days preliminary to our Civil War many a good patriot who 
 loved peace experienced mental states similar to those expressed in 
 this letter to Dr. Holcombe. But after the attack upon Fort Sumter 
 ideas were clarified and stood out sharply and distinctly, not only for 
 the preservation of the Union, but for the abolition of slavery, which 
 proved to be inseparable from it. 
 
 To W. H. Holcombe, M.D., Waterproof, La. 
 
 CiNCiN.XATi, January 3, 1861. 
 I do not take much interest in politics. I expect the South will 
 secede, and I sincerely hope all the good results you predict from this 
 revolution and rebellion may follow, and many more. I think I agree 
 witli you in many things concerning the negro nature, and the bad 
 eff^ects of abolitionism. But judging from your letters and your pam- 
 phlet, you entirely misunderstood the prevalent feeling and opinion of 
 the North. And if a man of your intelligence and, I believe, candor 
 can be so deceived, what may we not expect from those who have never 
 breathed any air but that of iheir state, and who know little or nothing 
 of tlie Northern people? You take it for granted, for instance, that I 
 am a Republican and voted for Lincohi. But I did not like his nomi- 
 nation and did not vote for him. I voted for Bell and Everett. I have 
 
 -4 179 )^^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 never been an anti-slavery man, but long ago came to conclusions 
 somewhat similar to your opinions concerning the essential nature of 
 the African race and its future in the scale of humanity. And the 
 great mass of the people are no more anti-slavery than I am. They 
 have no hostility towards the South, and care no more about slavery 
 than the fish in the Ohio River do. Freedom is a fine sounding word 
 and makes a grand rallying cry and bait to catch the rabble, and the 
 politicians have used it very effectually. But if you think the election 
 of Lincoln is a protest of the North against slavery you are greatly 
 mistaken. If the Democratic party had not fallen to pieces from their 
 own corruption and its members made war upon one another, I have no 
 idea that Lincoln would have been elected. How many men do you sup- 
 pose vote from an intelligent principle? I should be delighted to know 
 that every man who voted for Lincoln did vote from principle, whether 
 it was against slavery or the North Pole. But while I think Mr. Lin- 
 coln owes his election more to the divisions in the camp of the Democ- 
 racy and from the very general opinion that the Democratic party had 
 become corrupt, I cannot say that I am sorry that he is elected. 
 
 You know as well as every well-informed man that the present state 
 of affairs was not induced by Mr. Lincoln's election. The South had 
 wanted to secede for a long time. South Carolina was never in the 
 Union at heart and has always been itching to get out of it. The people 
 of the South have an idea that they can get along much better without 
 the North. And I do not think they will ever be content until they try 
 their hands at a separate government. I think now is as good a time 
 as any for the trial and I am willing they should make it. If they suc- 
 ceed according to their expectations they will make a grand thing of 
 it politically, and I am sure I wish you all the highest success. 
 
 But I am tired of the threats of disunion. You have cried "Wolf, 
 Wolf," long enough. So far then we are agreed. But whether it is 
 practicable or not I do not know. One thing, however, seems clear, that 
 it is the duty of the President to execute the laws of the United States. 
 He takes a solemn oath to do it, and if I were President I should not 
 ask the permission of South Carolina or any other state to do it. An 
 executive officer has nothing to do with consequences. The constitution 
 
 -4 180 ^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 points out his duties, and if we had had a President and not an old 
 worn-out political trickster, this whole matter would have been settled 
 or in the fair way of settlement long ago. Mr. Buchanan has been in 
 the hands of the Southern politicians ever since he came into office, and 
 has been moulded as wax to suit their purposes. 
 
 While the President ought to do the duties pointed out by the Consti- 
 tution, hold and defend all the public property, and collect the public 
 revenues, still if the Southern states desire to set up a separate govern- 
 ment I think they ought to be permitted to do it. But the movement 
 should be mutual. They should not run away and then ask to go. 
 
 If you are to go by violence and rebellion I am glad that you go now, 
 before you have any real cause of complaint. Your movement will 
 stand out alone in the history of humanity as of one part of a nation ris- 
 ing up against the general government from anticipated grievances, and 
 a government too in which that part has an equal voice with all the 
 others. If there .should be war and fraternal blood should be shed, as it 
 now seems more than probable, I cannot believe that the dispassionate 
 decisions of die future will be given in your favor. But on the con- 
 trary, you will go down to posterity as the destroyers of the mildest and 
 most equitable government ever established among men. And if you 
 succeed in establishing a Southern Republic you will stand alone among 
 the civilized and enlightened nations of the earth as the upholders of 
 human bondage. 
 
 What will be I do not pretend to know, but confidence in the control- 
 ling influence of the Divine Providence is so strong that I know however 
 great the apparent evils may be they are only permitted to prevent still 
 greater ones. So I trust and am willing to bide my time. The country 
 seems now to be given over into the hands of unprincipled politicians. 
 If the people would speak their honest opinions without the inter- 
 vention of fanatics and demagogues both in church and state, and the 
 people of the South could hear them. I am sure they would have no sen- 
 timents but those of brotherhood and kindness, and the most hearty dis- 
 dain of every unwillingness to respect all their rights. 
 
 The treatment which Northern men have received in the South, how- 
 ever, is producing its effects. Tliere are many people who feel as I do, 
 
 -"4 181 ^■~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 that it is a shame to any people to make war upon women and merchants 
 from mere suspicion, or to attempt to tyrannize over men's opinions 
 and dictate to them how they shall vote. If that is not a violation of all 
 constitutional rights and the very essence of despotism over men's 
 minds I do not know wliat is. The Constitution has been violated a 
 hundred times in tlie Soutli where it has been once in the North. But 
 I yet hope that the madness of the South and the North may be re- 
 strained and that we may treat each other like gentlemen and Christians. 
 
 I have written you a long letter and I am afraid you cannot read 
 it, for I find I succeeded very poorly in copying the first sheet. I began 
 copying my letters last year and I propose to continue it, not because 
 I suppose many of them are worth preserving, but it is sometimes quite 
 desirable to know what one has written. 
 
 I need not say that I hope there will be no cessation to our corre- 
 spondence or any seceding to our friendship. 
 
 It may be of interest to our readers to learn how Dr. Holcombe, whom 
 many know well through his books, changed from a slaveholder and 
 ardent adherent of the Confederacy to a firm allegiance to the United 
 States and a subsequent freeing of his slaves. Through the kindness 
 of Rev. John Goddard I have tlie following: 
 
 To Rev. John Goddard from Dr. Holcombe 
 
 New Orleans, La., June 5, 1880. 
 After mailing my letter I concluded that I ought to have said some- 
 thing more to you about that method of consulting the Word, which 
 may be a kind of bibliomancy, and so get your opinion about it. It is 
 all very plain that one should be guided by one's rational faculty illu- 
 minated by revealed truths in the conduct of life — but there is some 
 mysterious living, answering power in the Word to him who believes 
 from love, that to look to the Word in great and decisive situations of 
 life seems to me an admissible thing. My attention was first called to its 
 living power by being occasionally startled by opening at verses pre- 
 cisely applicable to my spiritual state at the time. Especially was this 
 the case when I was in great and serious troubles, driven almost to 
 
 -4 182 ^~
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 despair. An incident occurred during the war which made a lasting 
 impression. I was living at Natchez, Mississippi, during the Federal 
 occupation; I was one of the original secessionists and a strong South- 
 em sympatliizer, and of course I was in states of great suffering and 
 tribulation of all sorts. One day I was thrown into a state of extraor- 
 dinary excitement. A friend of mine had shot a negro man, his slave, 
 who was attempting to escape to the Federals, wounding him severely. 
 The Federals learning the fact, arrested my friend and had him in 
 irons on a gunboat to be tried for attempt to kill. I was exceedingly 
 vexed with my friend, who had manifested the worst features of the 
 old slave-holding spirit in shooting the slave, but I was still more indig- 
 nant with the Federals, who asserted jurisdiction over the case and 
 threatened to punish one crime by another still more serious. That, 
 you know, was the true Confederate standpoint. The incident pro- 
 duced such a storm in my mind that I could not attend to my practice, 
 and I shut myself in my bedroom in an agony of contending emo- 
 tions. I knew the whole question turned upon slavery, its defense or its 
 overthrow; which was right? On a sudden I tliought of laying the 
 whole matter before the Lord and praying for an answer through His 
 Word. I knelt down and prayed as earnestly as I ever have done in 
 my life, confessed my utter inability to find the truth for myself, threw 
 all upon the Christ — die Comforter — begged for a word of command 
 or advice, and solemnly vowed to abide by His answer forever. I tlien 
 said the Lord's prayer with the Bible shut upon the chair before me. 
 Reverently I opened it at random and laid my finger on a verse. It 
 was this: "/s not this the fast that I have chosen? to loose the bands of 
 wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go 
 free, and that ye break every yoke? " Isaiah Iviii. 6. 
 
 A great light and peace came into my mind in a moment. I let go of 
 the selfhood on that question forever. I went to my work with a light 
 heart, and soon afterward took the oath of allegiance to tlie United 
 States, and have been the strongest imaginable friend of the freedom 
 and progress of the black man ever since. 
 
 Mr. Burke, to whom several letters are written, was a prominent mer- 
 chant of New Orleans who came to that city from Maryland. He was 
 
 -4 183 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 the founder of its public school system, president of the Canal Bank, 
 and a member of the legislature. He was one of the founders of the 
 University of Louisiana and a patron of the fine arts. 
 
 It was he who furnished money which was used in raising the volun- 
 teer force which went to the relief of General Taylor, then on the Rio 
 Grande, resulting in the victorious termination of his command at 
 Buena Vista. After a political disappointment Mr. Burke became a 
 New Churchman through reading the " True Christian Religion." He 
 was for many years lay reader for the New Orleans Society. 
 
 From a letter to Glendy Burke, Esq., New Orleans, from C. Giles 
 
 There is not much excitement here of any kind. Everything moves 
 on about as usual, only a little more slowly. You would not imagine 
 except from the newspapers that we were on the eve of a revolution. 
 I wish the people at the South could know how the great mass of the 
 people regard them. I am sure they would find nothing in their hearts 
 but the kindest feelings and a sincere disposition to give them even and 
 exact justice. But there does not seem to be any way as yet for the 
 North and Soutli to confer with each other except through the medium 
 of politicians and newspapers, and I despair of having the truth told 
 by either of them. Most of our politicians prefer party and self to 
 country and the good of the neighbor. And so I fear we may go to 
 killing one another through a mistaken idea of how we regard each 
 other. 
 
 I think, however, the North will not consent to have the Union dis- 
 solved by such men as Toombs, Yancy, Wise, or by any one else, with- 
 out an effort to save it. Tliere is a deep and abiding love for our country 
 and government throughout the North and West. Our people are not 
 easily moved. They love home, peace, and industry, but when they are 
 moved they are steady, strong, and not easily stopped. I pray that their 
 energies may never be directed to anything but the arts of peace, for 
 the good of the whole country. 
 
 I received a long letter from Dr. Holcombe some time ago, and also 
 his pamphlet. He entirely misunderstands the feeling at the North, as 
 I have told him in a reply to his letter. He seems to take Garrison, 
 
 -4 184 ^~
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 Wendell Phillips, and Beecher as the exponents of Northern feeling. 
 But nothing could be wider from the truth. They have a class of fol- 
 lowers who make a great noise, but who are comparatively small in 
 number and influence. You see Garrison and Phillips cannot get 
 a public hall in which to speak in Boston, and Beecher was recently 
 egged in New Haven. 
 
 Well, nations must have their trials and temptations as well as indi- 
 viduals, and the same Being of Infinite Love and Wisdom rules over 
 both. This is my comfort and hope. The Lord never permits an evil 
 to fall upon either which is not for the prevention of a greater evil or 
 in some way an instrument of good. 
 
 How do you get along in your little society? I love to think of you; 
 and I often do, as New Churchmen in your little circle. I hope it is 
 increasing in numbers and true spiritual life. I cannot describe to 
 you how forcibly the winter brings back to my recollection my visit 
 to New Orleans and all the little incidents connected with it. Please to 
 remember me kindly to all who inquire after me. 
 
 The following also illustrates well Mr. Giles's attitude of mind in 
 the beginning ofthe war, and the gradual deepening of the decisive 
 stand he took for the Union. 
 
 To Mr. J. L. Jewett from C. Giles 
 
 Cincinnati, Feb. 27, 1861. 
 
 I have Mr. 's sermon with the request to send it to you with my 
 
 opinion about publishing it in the Messenger. 
 
 I think decidedly that it would not be judicious to print it now. 
 The sermon has many good points but I can see no possible use in its 
 publication. It would change nobody's opinion, and the only effect 
 it would have upon the New Churchmen in the South would be to sepa- 
 rate them still more widely from the New Churchmen at the North. 
 And that is to be deplored. Even granting everything he says is true, 
 and I cannot assent to it all, what is the use of saying it now? We may 
 have many things to say but we have the highest example for not saying 
 
 - <i 185 )i* -
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Uiem when men cannot bear them. " I have yet many things to say imto 
 you, but ye cannot bear them now." 
 
 From a letter to his mother, Mrs. Almira Giles 
 
 Nothing but war is talked about now. Our streets are full of sol- 
 diers, and there is an encampment near the city of sixteen hundred men 
 and two odiers of two or tliree thousand. Almost every able-bodied man 
 in Cincinnati is drilling, and the companies are procuring additions as 
 fast as they can. If Kentucky should secede Cincinnati will become 
 very much exposed and will be a very important point, as she would 
 be quite a rich prize for the Southern rebels. We have no fear of an 
 attack but we intend to be prepared. I have no confidence in Kentucky. 
 She will go with the South if she dares. 
 
 It is a terrible trial we are called upon to endure, and a most im- 
 portant crisis in the very life of our nation. And I think we shall 
 come out of it nobler and stronger than ever. I am proud of old Massa- 
 chusetts. She shows that she has sons worthy of her sires. If her sol- 
 diers fight as bravely as they acted promptly in obeying the call of the 
 President, the South will never again sneer at her, and I have no doubt 
 it will be found that they can shoot as well as build ships. It is my 
 great comfort in our hour of peril tliat we are in the hands of a Being 
 of Infinite Love and that He will overrule all for our good. 
 
 Letter to Mrs. Isaac Knapp 
 
 Cincinnati, June 1, 1861. 
 We are full of the war spirit here also. The military costume is 
 about as common as any on the streets. Ohio was among the first to 
 respond to the call for volunteers. But we have an imbecile for a gov- 
 ernor, and notwithstanding our willingness and large promises, I fear 
 we shall be behind all the states in actual performance. The three- 
 months' volunteeers who were at Camp Denison have been dismissed, 
 and most of them utterly refuse to enlist for three years. Indiana has 
 far surpassed us in actual accomplishment. But Ohio may do some- 
 diing yet. 
 
 -^ 186 }->'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 Am I not proud of the old Bay State? If she is as great in perform- 
 ance as she has been prompt and effective in preparation she will settle 
 the superiority of the Yankees beyond dispute. After all, I believe Dr. 
 Holmes is about right and " Boston is die Hub of the Universe," and 
 Massachusetts a big spoke in the wheel. I shall be greatly surprised 
 and disappointed if New England civilization and power do not show 
 their immense superiority in every respect over the South. Tliis war 
 will silence some boasting and settle some questions forever that have 
 been long disputed. 
 
 These are times that try men's pockets as well as dieir souls. Our 
 busy city is almost as silent as the Sabbath. Immense manufactories 
 are entirely closed. The pork merchant alone, it is said, will lose a 
 million dollars. But so far all classes seem to stand it pretty well. 
 There have been very few failures though our city will probably suffer 
 as much as any city in the Union. 
 
 I do not wonder that you are getting to be quite orthodox. I am 
 inclined that way myself. If the heathen could be converted as sud- 
 denly as some of the secessionists in Maryland were to the Union, by 
 Sherman's battery, I think we would better call home our missionaries 
 and send out our batteries. I am afraid, however, Uiere is not much 
 sincerity in these conversions, and their subjects will fall from grace at 
 a very slight temptation. The Enquirer, a Democratic, Douglas, cor- 
 rupt political paper, was converted in one night, confessed its sins pub- 
 licly the next morning and was too furiously Union to be sincere. But 
 it shows an evident disposition to lapse, and it requires much watching 
 and an occasional rap to keep it from taking a violent " back-set." The 
 Lord prosper the right. 
 
 The next letter embodies a remarkably prophetic suggestion. 
 
 To Mr. Thomas S. Smith 
 
 Cincinnati, July 7, 1861. 
 I read the communication you handed to me witli much interest. 
 We cannot tell, of course, what will be the effect of tlie contest now rag- 
 ing in our country upon other countries, but I can hardly doubt that 
 
 -4 187 ^'~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 it will establish the great truth that man can govern himself, and that 
 a Republican goveniment is the strongest in the world, and the best 
 calculated to develop the subjects of it, and make them strong, self- 
 reliant men. I have long regarded a Republican government as a 
 school of the nations which they will have to attend. But the ages move 
 slowly and it may be a long time before some of them will be prepared 
 for it. It is certainly not an infant school. England may be among 
 the first to take the great step. It would put new life into her masses. 
 
 Your idea of a Congress of Nations in which each member would 
 seek the good of all is almost too good to be true. But it may be ulti- 
 mated in tlie good time coming. The principles of heavenly life will 
 continue to descend and become more fully operative in the govern- 
 ments and in all of the affairs of this world, and there will be peace 
 on earth, good will to men. The Lord is always nearest to us in temp- 
 tation, and I have no doubt the powers of the New Heavens are now 
 pressing upon the minds of men and waking tliem up to action in the 
 great contest for human liberty. 
 
 To the Trustees of the New Jerusalem Society of Cincinnati from 
 
 C. Giles 
 
 Cincinnati, Aug. 5, 1861. 
 
 Owing to the depression in all departments of business and the conse- 
 quent financial embarrassment of the people generally, the Society may 
 find it difficult to meet its ordinary expenses. In view of this state of 
 things I will allow you to reduce my salary twenty per cent, if in your 
 judgment the financial condition of the Society requires it. 
 
 I hope you will endeavor to retain Mr. Smith as organist and leader 
 of the choir, for I think much of the interest and effect of our worship 
 depends upon him. 
 
 To Mrs. Knapp from C. Giles 
 
 Cincinnati, Oct. 4, 1861. 
 Yours of Sept. 29lh was received yesterday, and according to your 
 request I answer immediately. I went to see our Collector to-day, who 
 
 -'4 188 ^'~
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 has the supervision of all persons and things going South from Cin- 
 cinnati, and he says the only way to get there is in a private carriage. 
 There is no railroad or steamboat communication. A traveler would 
 have to pass through the lines of the armies and might meet with some 
 inconvenience, but it probably could be done if he could satisfy the 
 general that he would furnish no intelligence that would be of service 
 to the enemy. 
 
 What the state of things may be in a week or a day we cannot tell. 
 Troops are rapidly pouring into Kentucky from Ohio, Indiana, and 
 Illinois. Three regiments went through our city to-day, and we are 
 expecting thirty during the week. Many of our people are afraid that 
 Cincinnati will be attacked, and if we should be defeated Kentucky will 
 no doubt secede. We are fortifying the hills around us on both sides 
 of the river, but not half is doing that should be done. Nothing but 
 the thunder of the enemies serves thoroughly to arouse our people and 
 then it may be too late. If your friend will come to Cincinnati I 
 will do everything in ray power to assist her in getting safely through 
 the lines. 
 
 From another letter to the same sister we read the following: 
 
 You see our old scholars are serving their country. Nearly all the 
 young men of our society have enlisted. 
 
 The oilier day I attended llie funeral of a young man who was a 
 lieutenant. He died in Virginia of fever, and his poor wife did not 
 know of his sickness until his body was brought home to the city. She 
 was almost beside herself with grief and I fear will soon follow her 
 husband to the spiritual world. His funeral was one of the saddest 
 I ever attended. When I thought how many widows and orphans, bow 
 many bereaved hearts and sad homes this war will cause, I felt more 
 like cursing its authors than I ever did before. If all the tears of the 
 widows and orphans were changed to molten iron and were to fall 
 drop by drop in a fiery shower upon their naked backs it would not be 
 a punishment equal to the enormity of tlieir guilt. But they will get 
 their (hie. The South is doomed; I can see no escape from it. Even 
 if the war should cease now and their independence should be declared 
 
 -•«( 189 ^
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 it would not save them. The prestige of the slave power is broken. 
 Cotton may live and long be an important element in human industry 
 and commercial exchange, but it is no longer king. It may prove a 
 good subject, but it has been a very poor and despotic king. But enough 
 of this. 
 
 Letter from 0. Prescott Hiller to Rev. Chauncey Giles 
 
 Glasgow, Oct. 24, 1861. 
 
 It would give me much pleasure to hear how you and my old society 
 are getting on together. These troublous times have no doubt affected 
 the New Church people as well as other citizens of our distressed 
 country. 
 
 I see an American paper every week, so that I am pretty well in- 
 formed as to the general course of the war. I have no doubt it will 
 result in good, however trying it may be at present. It is but the coming 
 to a head of an old disease; the system will be healthier afterwards. 
 After a severe punishment such as the South will I doubt not in the end 
 receive they will learn to respect the North and better feeling will 
 arise. On the other hand, the North will get cured of its unhealthy 
 and violent abolition sentiment which was so great a cause of disturb- 
 ance to the South. 
 
 I hope the University (Urbana) still keeps on the even tenor of its 
 way in spite of the unfavorable times. You are no doubt still the pres- 
 ident. I should be glad to be informed as to its present condition. I 
 know there have been great changes. In particular I have been expect- 
 ing to receive information as to the results of the competition for the 
 elocution prizes which I offered. I should like to be informed of the 
 names of the successful speakers and whether the project has been well 
 received and is likely to be useful. 
 
 You have probably not yet heard that I have been lately called to 
 London to fill Mr. Noble's pulpit, that of the Cross Street Society. I 
 have accepted the call and enter upon my duties at the new year. It is 
 a responsible position. Mr. Bruce, the last minister, has lieen obliged 
 to resign from an affection of the throat. Mr. Warren is filling the 
 place temporarily. I have served the Glasgow Society faithfully for 
 
 -4 190 ^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 
 fourteen years and it is now in a flourishing condition. The Cross 
 Street Society, on the other hand, is in rather a languishing state. I 
 hope to put some new life into it with the Lord's aid and blessing. 
 Let me hear from you soon. 
 
 To Rev. 0. Prescott Hiller from C. Giles 
 
 Cincinnati, Nov. 18, 1861. 
 
 Your favor of the 24th of October and also one of a previous date 
 came duly to hand. I was very glad to hear from you and intended to 
 answer your first letter long before this, but we have been in such a state 
 of excitement and constant expectation of some great event that we can 
 do nothing but attend to the passing duties of the moment. 
 
 The war has sadly interfered with our plans. We purchased a lot 
 and adopted a plan for a new temple. We had chosen our building 
 committee witli full powers to act, on the Wednesday evening previous 
 to the attack on Sumter. When I went home from the meeting I con- 
 fidently expected the ground would be broken for the building the next 
 week. But the breaking out of the war made everything so uncertain 
 that we thought best to await the issue of events, hoping tilings 
 would take a more favorable tuni in a few weeks. But we finally 
 concluded to abandon the project entirely for the present; and so we 
 are still in the old temple and expect to remain tliere for an indefinite 
 period. 
 
 Our society has suffered very much by large removals into the country, 
 and I do not think the attendance is quite as large as it was a year ago, 
 though we always find many strangers present at our morning service. 
 Two societies have been formed of members who have moved from the 
 city: one at Glendale and one at Hebron. They have built a beautiful 
 little temple at Glendale and Mr. Stuart preaches there. I believe 
 nearly every member of both societies formerly belonged to us. At 
 Hebron there is a Sabbath school of about fifty scholars and regular 
 worship in a schoolhouse every Sabbatli, bul no minister. 
 
 At present there does not seem to be much life and energy in our 
 society. The old men who were the working members in your day have 
 
 -4 191 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 moved away or died, or ceased to take an active part, and there are not 
 any young men to take their places. Not many of the sons of the older 
 members have come externally into the church. 
 
 Mr. is the superintendent of the Sabbath school, which is large 
 
 and prosperous. I have a class of twenty-five or thirty young people 
 tliat I hear every Sabbath morning. We have gone regularly through 
 tlie Heavenly Doctrines and the class is quite interesting. I hear my 
 class in the morning and preach, and lecture in the evening. I also 
 deliver a lecture on Wednesday evening. These with my other duties, 
 you will see, must keep me quite busy. My wife has been very unwell 
 during the last two years, and I had an attack of nervous fever in the 
 spring, but I am quite well now. 
 
 Many of our young men are in the army and the war is the all- 
 absorbing topic of interest. We are just now rejoicing at the success 
 of our fleet in taking Port Royal and the capture of Mason and Slidell. 
 The people of the North are perfectly confident of success. Wlien the 
 war began we were stripped of everything. We had no army; our little 
 navy was scattered to the four winds. All our arms had been sent 
 South, and all the money the Southerners could lay their hands upon 
 had been stolen. The officers in the army and navy had become cor- 
 rupted, and all the governmental affairs at Washington were in a state 
 of utter confusion and demoralization. The rebels had managed to 
 place their own tools in the forts. North as well as South. It was a 
 mere matter of accident, as most men would call it, that Fortress 
 Monroe, Fort McHenry in Baltimore, and even West Point, were not 
 in the command of traitors. 
 
 The plans of the rebels were laid with the most consummate skill 
 and shrewdness, and we only wonder that they have not succeeded 
 better. But things are somewhat changed now. We have an army of 
 nearly half a million men, the most of them well drilled and armed 
 with effective weapons. We are beginning to have a navy adapted to 
 service on the Southern coast. Both army and navy will soon be well 
 equipped in every respect; we are nearly ready — just beginning to 
 learn our strength and to get the means of putting it forth, and I think 
 we shall soon show the world that our Republic is not dead. 
 
 -4. 192 }§^~
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1852-1862 
 To his mother, Jan. 19, 1862, Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 We are compelled to manage very economically this winter. Our 
 Society has cut my salary down more than one quarter, and living is 
 about as dear as ever, so we have to look very sharply after the dimes. 
 I have never found so much difficulty in making income and expenses 
 meet. I am ready to hear my part of the burden of this terrible war. 
 I am too old to fight and I have none to send, but I am willing to do 
 what I can. 
 
 In a letter to Rev. J. R. Hibbard, Cincinnati, April 10, 1862, speak- 
 ing of the Messenger, Mr. Giles says: 
 
 I do not think a weekly journal of the Clmrch should be so strictly 
 ecclesiastical or abstractly spiritual that it cannot notice current events. 
 On the contrary, it seems to me to be one of its special duties. I would 
 have it comment on events and books in the light of spiritual truth. The 
 longer I live the more I am confirmed in the belief that the general 
 teaching in the New Church is too much in the abstract. We do not 
 come into ultimates sufficiently, in which all power resides and must be 
 exerted. 
 
 The Messenger has kept itself almost criminally aloof from a word 
 of sympathy or any expression of interest in this terrible crisis of our 
 national life. I think it ought to have done all it could to sustain the 
 members of the Church in this trying hour. Spiritual things are clothed 
 with natural in this world. 
 
 I have no belief in the method of teaching truth that begins and ends 
 with the generalities that we must shun evils and do good. What evils 
 shall we shun, what good shall we do? Here are themes for discourses 
 and illustration in endless variety. I must do good to the neighbor, 
 but llic country is more the neighbor than the individual, and cannot 
 1 express a word of sympathy for her when she is in the clutches of 
 demons and is struggling for her very existence? I have done it. 
 I have told my own society what I thought the country demanded of 
 them, and have tried to sustain them in performing the duties I have 
 pointed out. I l)elieve the New Church has a great work to do: not in 
 
 -4 193 )3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 compromises nor concessions nor palliations, nor hiding in cold ab- 
 stractions, nor in crying brother to Satan in whatever questionable 
 shape he may come to us, but in teaching the true laws of charity 
 towards the evil as well as the good, towards the negro as well as the 
 white man, tlie state as well as the church. I have been a good deal 
 exercised in my mind this winter on some subjects, and if I live I mean 
 to have the Church learn what they are. Many of our people speak of 
 the Messenger with the utmost contempt for its utter silence on all ques- 
 tions relating to tlie present crisis. Though I do not agree with them in 
 many respects, for I think it has some most excellent qualities, and I 
 have been opposed, as you know, to die discussion of topics which at 
 that time seemed to me could be productive of no good, yet I maintain 
 it is the duty of every one who has any influence to exert it on the side 
 of liberty and right. The minister and the Church have their appro- 
 priate duties to perform, and there is no excuse for neglecting them. 
 
 I delivered a discourse to-day (for it is now Sabbatli evening) on 
 " The Divine Providence in Victories and the Grounds for Praise to the 
 Lord for our Late Victories." 
 
 -4 194 }§e...
 
 w. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Cincinnati Pastorate, 1862-1864 
 
 To Mrs. Isaac Knapp {Rowena Lakey) from C. Giles 
 
 Cincinnati, April 3, 1862. 
 
 E have been honored with the arrival of a distinguished visitor. 
 He arrived this morning about twelve o'clock. I have not yet been able 
 to learn his name, but he is a fine looking gentleman having dark hair 
 and the customary blue eyes [eyes which afterward proved to be black]. 
 He has not said much yet but seems quite inclined to sleep. Has a 
 large head, good voice, for though inclined to be taciturn, he has given 
 us a few specimens of its quality. He is a little above the ordinary size 
 and makes himself very much at home. From present indications he 
 will take up his abode with us. I think he will resemble our dear angel 
 Eddie, and if he does he will be doubly dear. Though we have been 
 expecting him for some time he came finally almost unannounced, and 
 it required tlie utmost expedition to get tlie proper persons present to 
 receive him. He is evidently a "fast" character, having arrived so 
 early in the morning and performed various feats which I cannot de- 
 scribe, but which indicate a wide-awake disposition and great energy of 
 character. 
 
 Eunice is quite as well as could be expected under the circumstances 
 and has had a very comfortable day. 
 
 Carrie is almost crazy with delight and is amazingly puzzled with the 
 old mystery of childhood when the doctor procures a baby. Lucy did 
 want a sister, but " never mind, a boy is better than nothing." But the 
 doctor says, " Can't afford to have girls this year; we need men." And 
 Eunice and I are content with what the good Father has sent us. 
 
 The funerals in Cincinnati were many, and numerous also were the 
 opportunities for consolation to the bereaved friends. My father's 
 heart went out in loving sympathy to all who mourned, and in the fol- 
 
 -4 195 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 lowing especially difficult case he did what he could to mitigate the 
 mourner's grief: 
 
 To a Gentleman ivhose Wife had committed Suicide 
 
 Cincinnati. June 19, 1862. 
 
 I was much surprised and grieved at the sad intelligence contained in 
 your letter and I sympathize with you deeply in your sorrow. It is 
 a great affliction under any circumstances to be separated from the 
 partner of life by death, but doubly so under those you mention. If 
 I understand your inquiries, you desire to know the probable effects 
 of such an end upon her spiritual state. Of course no one can tell cer- 
 tainly, but we know our future state is not determined by any sudden 
 changes or single acts but by the whole tenor of life. The mind and 
 body are so intimately related that in disease any hereditary tendency 
 to insanity might be excited and the balance of reason lost during the 
 unnatural excitement, and in that state there could be no accountability. 
 I suppose evil spirits are present with us all, ready to take advantage of 
 weakness or disease to urge us to destruction. But it is not by any 
 exceptional acts that our lot will be determined, but by the hold which 
 spiritual goodness and truth have gained upon the life. 
 
 Judging by this principle I do not see that you have any cause to 
 fear for her future happiness. The Divine permissions and providence 
 were over her in the last hour of her earthly life, and great as the 
 evil seems, it was permitted to prevent a greater. 
 
 It was the best time for her to pass on to the spiritual world and what- 
 ever may be our reasonings we must leave the event in His hands, know- 
 ing that He doeth all things well. 
 
 On the i4th of July, in search of a much needed rest, Mr. Giles ac- 
 cepted an invitation from Mr. Thomas Hitchcock to visit his family at 
 Newport, R. I. 
 
 Although he was a native of New England, my father's home in 
 western Massachusetts had given him no experience of the sea, so 
 that his descriptions voice a novel experience both to himself and his 
 family, which lived so far inland. During this visit of rest Mr. Giles 
 preached in Providence, Boston, and Waltham, and attended the Maine 
 
 -•^ 196 }§«■•-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 Association in Portland, going thither in Professor Parsons' yacht. He 
 preached in New York City, and it may be that the favorable impression 
 he then made led to his subsequent call from the New York society. 
 He returned to Cincinnati, August 31st. 
 
 To Mrs. Giles from her Husband 
 
 You see that I have safely arrived in Newport. On my way here 
 we passed the Great Eastern and I had a glimpse of her as we went 
 by. She was surrounded by mail boats and steam tugs which looked 
 like miniature vessels in comparison. The boat we came in is the most 
 magnificent one I ever saw. She was crowded with passengers and 
 everything was conducted like perfect clockwork. I think there has 
 been a great improvement in the methods of travel, or rather in some of 
 its accessories. Everything moves on more quietly. One is not be- 
 sieged by such crowds of rowdy men. Perhaps the rough element has 
 been somewhat absorbed in the war. Everything seems to be systema- 
 tized and all prices are fixed, so that you have not so much fear of 
 being cheated. 
 
 Mr. H has a fine house on the coast. From my window I can look 
 
 out over the broad ocean and see the waves come tumbling in upon the 
 shore. I have taken a long walk this morning along the beach. Rhode 
 Island has an excellent law that the seacoast shall be kept open to all 
 citizens. There is consequently a good walk by the sea past all the 
 beautiful residences. I need not say that I enjoyed it much, sniffing 
 the sea breeze and delighted with the prospect of the ocean. 
 
 Mr. Hitchcock has written for Professor Parsons and his wife to 
 come here next week, though he says he does not much think he will 
 come, for he never leaves home if he can help it. 
 
 We met George Bancroft on horseback, and a most ridiculous figure 
 he cut. He had a high shirt collar into which his face seemed to settle; 
 a high stovepipe hat towered above his head, his garments seemed to fit 
 rather loosely upon him and to be shaking in the wind; his knees were 
 drawn up and his body bent forward as though they desired to make 
 each other's intimate acquaintance; his feet were thrust full into his 
 stirrups and his horse jogged on in a hard trot, and he wont pounding 
 
 -'*■{ 197 }<*■-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 along as though he had surrendered himself to the motions of the horse. 
 I was about to exclaim at the singular figure of the old man and to 
 remark that some antediluvian must have made his escape from the 
 shades when Mrs. H. said it was Mr. Bancroft. He has a beautiful 
 place here. 
 
 It is oppressively still. Almost the only sound is caused by two or 
 three flies buzzing against the windows and the sighing of the wind 
 tlirough the casement, and the occasional note of the meadow lark. It 
 seems difficult to conceive that we are in the midst of a civil war and I 
 am glad to forget it for a few days, and I hope to get strength enough 
 to do and bear all that the Divine Providence may permit in the future. 
 
 Carrie must write to me and Charlie must tell you what to write. 
 Kiss die dear little Fat for me. 
 
 The paper received this morning says Morgan has taken Cynthiana. 
 This is surely bringing the war quite near to you, — so near that I 
 don't know but I ought to be at home rather than here. But I cannot 
 conceive it possible that they will allow him to come to Cincinnati. If 
 you were at all timid I should feel sadly to be here while war was so 
 near you, but I know you are not. I would not have come here and 
 would not now remain a moment if I did not think I could do more 
 good to my family, my coimtry, and the Church by so doing than I 
 could by remaining at home. But if you feel that you need me you can 
 telegraph and I will come immediately. 
 
 The papers say that Morgan has gone back to Tennessee. I was in 
 hopes he would be captured. I think his raid will do good. 
 
 I hope I shall never be called in the Divine Providence to be absent 
 from my family for very long, for I daily feel more and more how 
 intimately my life is bound up with them. The rest is doing me good. 
 You do not know how great a mental strain has been upon me. I had 
 come into a state in which it seemed impossible for me to write another 
 sermon, and I wanted what it seems to me the Divine Providence has 
 prepared, — a cool and quiet place in which to lie fallow for a while 
 and let my brain sleep. And I am not trying to think or do anything 
 but breathe the invigorating air and dream. I feel quite sure that I 
 shall come home with new life and energy. 
 
 -4 198 ^^
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 After telling of novel reading and games he says: 
 
 This life seems to me more like life in the land of the Lotus Eaters 
 than any I have seen. To-day we are going down to see the people 
 bathe and this afternoon I am going to Providence and shall preach 
 there to-morrow. I must do something to keep my hand in. I intend 
 to come back Monday, and Professor Parsons and his wife are expected 
 to-night. 
 
 'o' 
 
 Arrived in Providence he says: 
 
 I find it a very pleasant, neat, and thrifty city, though they say I have 
 not seen the finest part of it yet. 
 
 We came home to tea and after a while several of the New Church 
 people came in and spent the evening. They selected the chants and 
 sang them and after they went away we chatted until almost twelve 
 o'clock. 
 
 I had a very nice room and a very nice bed, but somehow I could 
 not sleep. Perhaps it was because everything was so neat. After living 
 in Cincinnati it seems almost miraculous to see how neat and clean and 
 white everything is. The caqiets, paint, curtains, linen, and even the 
 very atmosphere seem to be bleached and destitute of the least particle 
 of dust. It must be the paradise of housekeepers. 
 
 They have a very nice little church, about as large as the one in Glen- 
 dale. It was well filled this morning witli very intelligent looking 
 people. I don't know when I have seen finer faces in an audience of the 
 same size. After service I was introduced to a number of ladies and 
 gentlemen and the service was very pleasant to me. I am glad I 
 came. I shall make some very agreeable acquaintances and then I trust 
 I shall feel as though I had donr something to-day not entirely useless. 
 
 Letter to his Wife 
 
 Newport, July 31, 1862. 
 Professor Parsons and his wife from Cambridge are here, and 
 there is no lack of fun and converse upon the profoundest truths of 
 science, philosophy, and religion. From my window I can see the 
 
 -%\ 199 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 ocean stretching away tlirougli lialf the horizon; and the roar of the 
 waves drowns from mind and body the roar of the world. 
 
 I had a letter from Mr. Worcester yesterday giving me a very cor- 
 dial invitation to visit him and make his house my home while I remain 
 in Boston, and asking me to preach for him. 
 
 In a letter written from Cambridge at the home of Professor Parsons 
 Mr. Giles says: 
 
 Hardly anything is talked about here but the war and Massachusetts 
 is fast filling up her quota of men. Everybody that I have seen is 
 glad that the President has ordered a draft for three hundred thousand 
 more. Now all think the war will end soon, and I hope it will. We 
 see soldiers everywhere getting ready to go away. In the navy yard 
 men are building gunboats. Day before yesterday I saw a very large 
 and beautiful one going to sea to make her trial trip. 
 
 Professor Parsons is as full of knowledge as the nut is of meat, and 
 he is opening his treasures to me very freely and I am going to profit 
 by their richness. I am satisfied my visit is to be of immense advan- 
 tage to me intellectually as well as physically. I shall get a new stock 
 of materials to work into sermons and perhaps something else. 
 
 Mr. Parsons has a yacht, and we are going to take a sail to-day out 
 in the bay. He has invited Professor Sophocles, a Greek, and some 
 others to go with us and we hope to have a pleasant time. We expect 
 to get back some time to-night. 
 
 I sometimes feel as though I ought not to be here in such an exciting 
 and troublous time, but perhaps I can do more for my country and 
 humanity by resting than I could if I were at home or in the army. 
 I cannot sleep yet. My brain will not go quietly to rest. I roll and 
 toss about the bed all night. Professor Parsons thinks a voyage at sea 
 would do me good, especially if it should make me sick, and I believe 
 the plan now is to take a trip to Portland in his yacht. But this is not 
 fully determined upon. 
 
 The cruise to Portland took place and Mr. Giles thus describes it: 
 
 We sailed from Boston about twelve o'clock on Monday morning, 
 having laid in a good stock of provisions so that we might have some- 
 
 -4 200 ^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 thing to eat if we should be blown out to sea and days should elapse 
 before we could get back. We had a brisk wind which drove us along 
 at a very pleasant rate. When night came the moonlight was beau- 
 tiful and I enjoyed it much, as being my first night on the ocean. 
 About ten o'clock we all turned in but the Captain, who steered the 
 boat, and we had a pretty comfortable sleep. About twelve o'clock 
 the Captain went to bed and one of the gentlemen who knew how to 
 manage the yacht got up and took charge of her. When we rose in 
 the morning there was no wind and the sea was as smooth as glass. 
 Mr. Ager and I took the little boat and rowed away from the yacht 
 some distance, perhaps a mile. When we were tired we waited for the 
 yacht to come up and we got on board. Mr. Ager wanted to go again, 
 but the Captain told him there would soon be a good breeze, but we 
 could not see it. It came, however, in a short time, and the yacht began 
 to rush through the water at first-rate speed, and before we got into 
 Portland the wind blew so hard that the Captain said he had more than 
 he wanted. When we were ten or twelve miles from Portland we saw 
 a man in a little boat fishing for rock codfish, and we saw him pull out 
 two while we were going by him. We hove to, and one of the gentle- 
 men went to the fisherman in a small boat and bought three large 
 codfish for twenty-five cents. Cheap enough! I thought. After we an- 
 chored at Portland the Captain made a chowder of them for our din- 
 ner. I don't know when anything has given me more pleasure than 
 this sail. I went out from Portland twice afterwards, cruising among 
 the islands with which Casco Bay is filled. In about two hours I ex- 
 pect to leave Newport, where I now am, for New York, and next week 
 I expect to be at home. 
 
 On August 25 Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 I feel now that all I came for has been accomplished. I have had 
 a good rest and a good time. My friends say I am looking ver\' well 
 and very black. Did you suppose it possible for me to tan? I diink 
 I am some shades darker than I was when I left home, and I feel many 
 degrees better. I hope the weather continues cool with you. 
 
 -4 201 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 In the autumn Mr. Giles went to Chicago to assist in the dedication 
 of the new temple for the Chicago society. His home letter describes 
 his first appearance in a clergyman's robe. 
 
 Chicago, Nov. 17, 1862. 
 
 Yesterday's service was very interesting and everything passed off 
 very satisfactorily, I believe. Our New Church friends have completed 
 a very neat and commodious house and I am quite sure they will enjoy 
 it. I wish all of our people could have been here. I think the contrast 
 between this and ours would stimulate them to go ahead with the new 
 church. 
 
 Mr. Hibbard had made all preparations to wear a robe, and as I was 
 to assist him in the dedication I could not refuse to do likewise. He 
 had borrowed one from an Episcopal clergyman. It was simply the 
 white linen gown. I read most of the service, and Mr. H. preached 
 the sermon while I sat in state in one of the chairs. I thought it 
 would seem bigoted and like giving too much importance to the dress 
 question to refuse to encourage Mr. Hibbard in a step which he has 
 contemplated so long and with so much interest. 
 
 I think, however, I need a little practice to wear a robe gracefully and 
 to feel entirely at ease in it. The one I wore was too long for me, but 
 I did not tumble down or do any very awkward thing. 
 
 I have no doubt but the New Church will eventually adopt the prac- 
 tice very generally and I think it will be a good thing for minister and 
 people, and I have always said so. But the adoption of any of those 
 externals not prescribed by the Doctrines ought not to be forced. The 
 New Church will always have enough external and internal things to 
 distinguish it from others without being odd. 
 
 Letter to Rev. C. Giles from G. Burke 
 
 New Orleans, Dec. 31, 1862. 
 
 You will receive by Adams and Company Express about the same 
 
 time you receive this the package of ten manuscript sermons which you 
 
 were so kind as to send me by my son to be copied and read to our 
 
 society. We all thank you for this additional evidence of your interest 
 
 -4 202 ^.-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 in our welfare and progress, and you may feel assured that your ser- 
 mons are highly appreciated and meet a cordial welcome. Why don't 
 you send more than you do to the Messenger and the Magazine? Not 
 one ever escapes a reading before our society, and some are marked as 
 having gone four times before them. Last Sabbath the one on the text 
 from John xv. 13 produced an excellent effect, especially upon some 
 strangers who were present. An old Scotch lady, a member of our 
 society, said afterward: " Surely I have heard that sermon before. Did 
 not Mr. Giles read that to us when here? " showing as she said " the im- 
 pression made here" by laying her hand on her heart! 
 
 Our society advances, which is encouraging. The work is a slow 
 one, however; for we see so many who listen, then turn away and say 
 "very beautiful doctrine," and there the interest ends for the time 
 being at least. And then we have discouragements too in other forms, 
 but they are allowed by the Lord, doubtless for our good, and on the 
 whole we have good cause to rejoice that tlie work, although slow, 
 has assumed al least a position of respectability in our community! 
 The time ivas ivhen this tvas not the case! We should therefore be 
 thankful and feel encouraged to "go forward," and when external mat- 
 ters become settled, the war over, we may hope to have a minister 
 established with us, and have the ordinances administered to us, which 
 we have not had for over a year. 
 
 We are having some peace of mind since the removal of General 
 Butler. He is the worst man witli more bad qualities than any one 
 I ever met. Among other doings he arrested me on Monday morning 
 after our having a full attendance at church — made up largely of 
 Episcopalians — the previous day. And why. do you suppose! Be- 
 cause I dared to teach the people without having taken the oath 
 of allegiance to the United States! Whereupon he indulged largely 
 in low and vulgar abuse and called me very hard names, to which I 
 made no reply. Such has been the dread of his power that none of 
 us ever left our beds in the morning with any reasonable expectation 
 of returning to them at night. He required me to lake the oath or leave 
 the city. I chose the former rather than leave our society, and then 
 continued to read to them. But now General Banks is treating us as 
 
 --bI 203 }•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 only a gentleman would, and he may make friends ior his Government 
 and the Union, which his predecessor failed completely to do in a 
 single instance. 
 
 The following letter seems worthy of introduction to the year 1863, 
 as it gives a cheerful account of the health of the family. The Cin- 
 cinnati days numbered so many of serious illness that it is pleasant 
 to give emphasis to an entire month of freedom from such anxieties, 
 especially as in February three members of the family were stricken: 
 Warren with typhoid fever, Carrie with an ulcerated throat, and the 
 baby with pneumonia. All recovered, but the fatigue due to loss of 
 sleep and anxiety in the care of so many patients was very great. 
 
 Cincinnati, Jan. 14, 1863. 
 
 We are all in pretty good health. Eunice is better than I have known 
 her to be for a long time. The baby keeps well and grows finely, and 
 is a very sweet little fellow and fills the house with peace and joy, but 
 not always with quiet. We call him John William. I insisted on call- 
 ing him John and the children insisted on his being called William, and 
 so we compromised the matter. I wanted very much to have one child 
 called after Father. 
 
 Wliat you say of the terrible effects of the war is sadly true, and 
 I fear we have not seen the worst of it yet. But you would hardly know 
 there was a war from the external appearance of our city. It was never 
 so gay and lively. More costly Christmas presents have been sold this 
 last Christmas than ever before. 
 
 Mr. Giles's juveniles have gladdened the hearts of many children, 
 and they have also profited by the lessons implanted in them. "The 
 Wonderful Pocket," " The Angel's Christmas Tree," and " Metem- 
 psychosis" were all written in Cincinnati. The writer well remembers 
 the home discussion after " Metempsychosis " was read, and the family 
 scorn with which her own wish to be like the violet was greeted. This 
 letter of January, 1863, to Mr. Ager gives in my father's own words 
 the principles upon which these stories were founded: 
 
 I have long thought that the Doctrines of the New Church and tlie 
 light they throw upon the nature and significance of the material world, 
 and the intimate and ever-present relations it holds to the spiritual 
 
 -^ 204 }3e"~
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 world, open a wide field for a new and interesting literature for chil- 
 dren, containing all the fascination of the ancient fairy tales with the 
 most practical religious truths. I am too old to do much in moulding 
 these rich materials into forms interesting and instructive to children, 
 even had I the capacity. But such persons will be found in good time: 
 people of delicate fancy, with minds thoroughly imbued with the truth 
 and life of the Church and sensitive to all the innocent states of 
 childhood. 
 
 In this and subsequent letters are comments on the war: 
 
 To Sampson Reed, Esq., from C. Giles 
 
 Cincinnati, Jan. 18, 1863. 
 
 Our city has been very much excited by the late battles at Murf rees- 
 boro and Vicksburg. Many were killed and wounded who lived in this 
 city and vicinity. There are many sick and wounded soldiers here 
 and the number is constantly increasing. Our national affairs look very 
 gloomy, and I see no hope or comfort but in the truth that the Lord 
 rules. I have always supposed that the North would come into a state 
 of despair in some way before the war ended, and that corrupt men 
 would display their character so fully that they might be understood 
 and opposed by all men who love their country, and that time seems 
 fast approaching. The democratic hordes are showing their sympathy 
 with the rebels as clearly as they dare, and they have gone so far in 
 some cases in Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois Uiat they have already 
 alarmed the more prudent and better portions of the party. 
 
 You say Joseph is at Port Royal. I hope you hear tlial lie is well 
 and that he finds himself usefully employed. I do not know of any 
 better use to which a man can devote himself than to destroy the rebels 
 or help the oppressed blacks. 
 
 Later in the year, after the defeat of Vallandigham for governor, 
 Mr. Giles writes to another friend: 
 
 Is not the news Ohio sends you to-day glorious? We regard it as 
 one of the greatest victories of the war. Vallandigham will have to 
 "watch and wait" over the border for some time yet. Every honest 
 
 -■^i 205 }§^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 face looks bright to-day in our city. A Butternut cannot be found. 
 I felt quite sure we could beat them but I was afraid we should not 
 give them such a tremendous whipping as we have done. You may 
 recollect that some of your Union friends at the club last summer were 
 afraid they would elect Val., and I assured them it was not possible, 
 and I had no idea then that any decent man could be found who would 
 advocate his election. But I did not know the depths of political cor- 
 ruption. Yesterday our business men generally closed their stores and 
 gave up the day to the election, which was the quietest I ever saw. Our 
 Mayor was Colonel of a regiment in the army for two years, and he 
 knows how to execute orders as well as to give them, and somehow the 
 keepers of drinking saloons and the rowdies know it. This is one of 
 the advantages we shall derive from the war. We shall learn to obey. 
 May New York do as well as Ohio. 
 
 Oct. 14, 1863. 
 The war drags its slow length along. We have taken two, perhaps 
 three, steps towards our final triumph since I have received your letter. 
 We have gotten rid of the incubus, McClellan. Was ever a nation so 
 imposed upon before? We have a proclamation of freedom for the 
 slaves from the President, and the rebels at the North have made their 
 campaign and have been signally defeated. This I regard as a more 
 important victory than any we could have obtained over the rebels at 
 the South. Everybody here except the Butternuts seems confident and 
 hopeful. 
 
 Notwithstanding Mr. Giles's decided loyalty to the Union his friendly 
 relations with some of the Southern New Churchmen continued. His 
 sermons were lent not only to the smaller societies in Ohio, but were 
 sent to River Point, L. I., to St. Louis and to New Orleans. 
 
 This hopeful letter was written to Mr. Burke after the receipt of some 
 of the sermons which he had lent: 
 
 To Glendy Burke, Esq. 
 
 Cincinnati, Jan. 25, 1863. 
 Your very welcome favor of Dec. 31st was duly received and a few 
 days after the sermons came safely to hand. I am very much pleased 
 
 -4 206 ^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 to hear of your progress in the New Church. I feel, perhaps I may say, 
 a strange or at least an unusual interest in your little society, and I 
 think of you often, and of all the members I know, with deep interest. 
 It affords me great pleasure to know tliat I can sometimes speak to you 
 though separated by so many miles of space, and that it is pleasant for 
 you to listen to my words, or rather to the message the Lord sends you 
 through me. 
 
 We know the New Church seems almost nothing compared with the 
 old, and yet there is more power in a live aconi than in a dead oak. 
 The Lord neither tarries nor hastens. The progress of the New Church 
 is the development of Humanity not only in this world but in the 
 spiritual world, and as Humanity is a Man the development must be 
 harmonious. The external and the internal must grow together. The 
 kingdom in the heavens and on the earth is one kingdom, and neither 
 can advance much beyond the other. 
 
 All that the Lord requires of us is to do our work standing in our lot. 
 It would seem to us greater if we had larger numbers and more impos- 
 ing worship. But would it be greater or more important? I think 
 not. He who casts a healing influence into the fountain purifies the 
 whole stream. A slight influence upon tlie seed is more potent for 
 good or evil than a much greater one upon the mature plant. 
 
 \^'ith such reflections I comfort myself and strengthen my hands 
 and heart for my work. Wliat I can do seems almost nothing. 
 
 From my study window I can see the front of a large Catholic 
 Churrh. Crowds of people flock to it, and I cannot help thinking some- 
 times, when shall we see such crowds in the New Church? And yet we 
 may know that the truths of the New Church dispensed to a few must 
 be more powerful for good than all the pomp and ceremony with which 
 the husks of a dead church are fed to the vast crowds which throng our 
 cathedrals. Yes, my dear brother, we are doing a great work, and let 
 us do it well. If we are faithful in it we shall rea]> the reward of our 
 fidelity, whether we lay the foundation in much weakness and obscurity 
 or shout with the multitudes at the crowning of the work. 
 
 You ask me why I do not send more of my sermons to the Messenger 
 and the Magazine. I do not know, unless it is that I am busy and 
 
 -4 207 }■♦ -
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 there are other ministers much older and better known in the Church 
 than I, and it seems proper for them to speak. If the Lord spares my 
 life I intend to publish something yet. Perhaps I am too fastidious 
 about it. 
 
 In July the church was closed for four Sundays. The vacation was 
 spent in the hot city because of lack of means to go elsewhere. It was 
 a great contrast to the delightful visit in Newport tlie summer before. 
 
 The diary records: 
 
 I remained home three Sundays in idleness. I hope it may not 
 occur again. ... So ends my vacation. How little I have done, and 
 I feel that my powers are failing in some respects. I may preach better 
 perhaps, but I do not know. There ought to be ten or fifteen years of 
 good hard work in me yet. 
 
 In October Mr. Giles began a series of sermons on tlie " Beatitudes," 
 which were several years later published in England under the title 
 of " Heavenly Blessedness." The custom of writing a number of ser- 
 mons on one general topic was often employed by my father. In 
 relation to it he says: 
 
 I am satisfied that ordinary sermons are of but little use. They are 
 too fragmentary. They give truth in bits, without showing its relations. 
 
 The Cincinnati society had purchased the church on the comer of 
 Fourth and John streets, and it was now undergoing alterations. Pre- 
 vious to this a lot had been bought and plans made for an entirely new 
 edifice, but the stress of war prevented the completion of this project, 
 and the lot was returned to its former owners. 
 
 On November 22nd Mr. Giles records the last lecture in the old 
 building. His subject was the " Last State of Spirits in the World of 
 Spirits." 
 
 So ends my service in the old temple. May the change to the 
 society be like the change from the World of Spirits to Heaven! 
 
 One of the features of church work in Ohio was the frequent neces- 
 sity for visits to the numerous smaller societies in the state. The 
 ministers or leaders of these societies seldom had the power to admin- 
 
 -4 208 ^~
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 ister the sacraments, so the advent of a clergyman vested with this 
 authority made these occasions very important. Traveling facilities, 
 though improved, still had their difficulties in the sixties. Some of these 
 are mentioned in this account of a visit to Pomeroy, taken Nov. 30, 
 1863. At the meeting of the General Convention on June 14, 1863, 
 Mr. Giles received the powers of Ordaining Minister or General Pastor, 
 and this visit to Pomeroy was undertaken for the purpose of ordaining 
 Mr. Edson. 
 
 You see by the date of my letter that I am here, though it was through 
 much tribulation and mud that I succeeded in getting here. The train 
 was behind time. I had to remain in Athens overnight. The next 
 morning it rained hard and I had the pleasant prospect before me of 
 riding tliirty-three miles in the rain in an open wagon and tlirough the 
 mud. I had no umbrella and no shawl. I purchased an umbrella and 
 concluded to make the best of it. The rain poured down and the mud 
 rolled up. After driving about two miles I found I was getting wet 
 and cold. I happened to think that Rev. Elisha Hibbard lived on the 
 road, and when I reached his house I asked for a bedquilt or blanket. 
 We put it across our knees and after that we got along very well. The 
 mud was terrible and we were obliged to go very slowly. We arrived in 
 Pomeroy about seven o'clock, and I was informed that I must walk 
 to Mr. G.'s in the dark, more than a mile from where the hack stops. 
 After scolding some I got out of the hack and pushed on, not knowing 
 whether I should get mired or fall off the bank into the river. I reached 
 the Rolling's Mill without any accidents, and as I heard some one 
 coming from tlie office I inquired if Mr. G. were there, and finding tliat 
 he was, I went in and found him trying to bring a drovming man to 
 life. In another part of the office the engineer was sick, having been 
 suddenly attacked with pleurisy so severely that he could not be moved 
 home. 
 
 Mr. G. came home with me and I was glad lo gel lo the fire and have 
 some supper. You can easily imagine that I was very tired. That 
 night it froze and it was cold ami rough. 
 
 Yesterday I rode to Middlcport. Just as we reached the Coalport 
 landing the Ohio came up. So if I had remained on the boat I should 
 
 -^ 209 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 have been here in ample time. I am afraid I was a little vexed. I had 
 taken a roundabout way at an expense of five dollars and had not 
 gained a minute by it. Your mother went on up to the Rolling's Mill 
 landing and I went to the meeting. I ordained Mr. Edson, baptized two 
 babies and one adult, confirmed four persons, preached a sermon, and 
 administered the Sacrament of the Holy Supper. I dined at Mr. G.'s 
 in Middleport, and then drove back to the County Court House and 
 preached again. There I met your mother for the first time since we 
 left Cincinnati. We stopped on the way to Mr. G.'s at Mr. H.'s and 
 got home tired enough. 
 
 In the autumn of 1863 several letters were exchanged between Mr. 
 Thomas Hitchcock of New York and Mr. Giles with regard to tlie lat- 
 ter's acceptance of an invitation to the pastorate of the New York So- 
 ciety. This was the second time Mr. Giles had been asked to go to 
 New York. He had previously declined to consider it because the 
 Ohio friends "were in the midst of what seemed to be a successful 
 movement to build a new temple," and it was thought his leaving would 
 " in all probability prevent its accomplishment." At the present time, 
 notwithstanding his attachment to the Cincinnati Society, he felt 
 " bound by a kind of necessity to consider the pecuniary difficulties 
 under which he labored." He asked no increase of salary but found 
 it impossible to maintain his family upon the existing one. 
 
 In his annual report Mr. Giles had urged a stronger interest in the 
 ordinances of the Church, and deplored the slender attendance at the 
 Holy Supper, and the Society's indifference to the work of the Church 
 both at home and abroad. This led him to think that perhaps another 
 man might quicken its interest and increase its activity. The purchase 
 of the new temple and the substantial expressions of affection from the 
 ladies of the Society and the congregation led him to waver in his 
 decision to leave. On the other hand, in the new field of labor he 
 would have more time for pastoral duty and for the preparation of 
 some works for the press. There was also the thought of the possible 
 benefit to the family of a change of climate. There had been nuich ill- 
 ness ever since they lived in Cincinnati, and it seemed worth while to 
 try the experiment. In addition he said: 
 
 I feel bound to every one of you by many strong and tender ties, 
 and the thought of leaving you is always attended with pain. I have 
 
 -•€{ 210 }^ -
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 preached for the Society for nearly one fourth of its existence, and 
 I cannot recall an unpleasant word that has passed between me and any 
 member of the Society or congregation during the time. 
 
 I am well aware that I have performed my duties with many imper- 
 fections. I presume I have fallen much farther below my own stand- 
 ard of what a pastor ought to be than I have of yours. But such as it 
 has been, my work is before you, and you can judge better than I 
 whether it is better to draw it to a speedy close or to continue it longer. 
 And I desire to receive from you a full and frank expression of your 
 judgment and wishes concerning it. 
 
 After due consideration on December 21st, the following resolutions 
 were passed by the Society: 
 
 1st. Resolved: That this Society and congregation entertain a unani- 
 mous feeling of attachment to our present Pastor, the Rev. Cliauncey 
 Giles, and learn with much solicitude that there is any prospect of his 
 leaving for another field of labor. 
 
 2nd. Resolved: That if our Pastor, Rev. Chauncey Giles, sees fit to 
 remain with us we will make his salary $2500 per annum, commencing 
 May 1st, 1863. 
 
 The formal invitation to Mr. Giles from New York arrived early in 
 January. Mr. Giles accepted the invitation, and on February 3rd the 
 Society met and passed resolutions which, while they accepted Mr. 
 Giles's resignation, expressed deep regret at his decision and grateful 
 appreciation of his services during his pastorate. They also voted to 
 increase his salary. 
 
 The last months of Mr. Giles's pastorate in Cincinnati were months 
 ol mingled liapijiness and pain. 
 
 In his family there was much serious illness which caused him great 
 anxictv, ami tli<' coiitiinied nursing wore u]ion his health and upon my 
 niotlier's. Early in January Charles was taken ill with malignant scar- 
 let fever. So extreme was his illness that the doctor despaired of his 
 life. My father, ever resourceful and ready to try new methods, ap- 
 plied wet sheets with such niarkeilly favorable results that on tlie doc- 
 tor's next visit he said, "Why, what have you done to this boy! I did 
 not expect to find him alive." From that time llic patient contiiuicd to 
 
 --»;■{ 211 }■>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 improve. When the process of desquamation began, by using a little 
 care Mr. Giles succeeded in removing tlie entire skin of the inside of 
 one hand. This was placed as a curiosity for safe keeping in one of 
 the drawers of his desk. So far as I know, no one ever contracted scar- 
 let fever from tliis bit of epidermis. During Charles's illness his sister 
 Carrie had scarlet rash and Lucy an ulcerated sore throat. 
 
 In the church there was much that was encouraging and reassuring. 
 The new temple was dedicated on the 17th of January. It was a beau- 
 tiful day and the house was well filled. Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 The house is quite spacious, seating over five hundred without crowd- 
 ing. It is very neat, airy, and pleasant. We have a reading desk and 
 pulpit and will have some kind of a Repository for the Word. 
 
 Every one says, " What a pity you are going away. You have a 
 large and handsome place of worship, the seats are all taken, and the 
 audience continues to increase from week to week." But I tell them 
 I am quite delighted to leave the Society in so flourishing a condition. 
 Since I have determined to leave, it is much pleasanter than it would be 
 to know that the Society had run down under my charge and that they 
 were glad to get rid of me. 
 
 The Society has invited Mr. Hayden to preach for it during the 
 month of May, and he is coming with Mrs. Hayden. I predict tliat he 
 will be given a call and that he will accept, and I think he will be a 
 very useful man here. Mr. Beaman is to preach during the montli of 
 June in order to supply the pulpit until the summer vacation. 
 
 My father's affection for the dear Cincinnati friends was a very true 
 and lasting one. There is in the people themselves a cordiality of 
 manner, a friendliness of feeling, expressed not only in words but in 
 many kind deeds, which endeared them to him. During his last illness 
 his thoughts reverted many times to them. He said: "As I lie here 
 I think of one and another. They are very dear to me. You know 
 it was my first pastorale." 
 
 Mr. Thomas Hitchcock of New York was at that time a staunch 
 friend of my father's. It was largely through his instrumentality that 
 Mr. Giles received the call to New York. He was unwearied in his 
 efforts to provide for the family's needs, and Mr. Giles writes thus of 
 the house (43 E. 33rd Street) which the former had secured: 
 
 -^ 212 ]^'~
 
 ' CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 There will be ample room and it will accommodate us in all respects. 
 The location is all we could wish, even to the side of the way. I have 
 always thought I should prefer to live on the sunny side of the street 
 as well as of things if I could. Mrs. Giles wishes me to thank you for 
 your kind consideration and attention. It must have cost you much 
 time and labor to find a house so well suited to our wants in every 
 respect, and we feel very grateful to you for it. It will add so much 
 to our comfort to know exactly where we are going. 
 
 I intend to close my labors here the last Sabbath in April, and I 
 expect to preach my first sermon in New York the first of May. We 
 shall probably break up here about the 20th of April. 
 
 I have no fear as to the results of my ministry in New York. I have 
 never regretted the movement, and do not think I ever shall. My wife 
 says there is one good thing about me, — when I have decided to do a 
 thing I have decided. 
 
 The plans for leaving Cincinnati could not be carried out at the time 
 set because of the serious illness of one of my brothers. My father 
 writes: 
 
 I fear I shall not be able to begin my ministry the first Sabbath in 
 May. My son Chauncey was taken very ill a week ago yesterday with 
 typhoid fever, and there is very little prospect that we shall be able to 
 move next week. We had made all our arrangements for Mrs. Giles 
 and the children to leave Wednesday the 20th. The day was appointed 
 for the sale and everything was in preparation for it. But we can do 
 nothing now until Chauncey is better. It is a great disappointment to 
 us and I suppose it will be to you; but it is one of those things which 
 no one can foresee or prevent, and all we can do is to submit. 
 
 On April 24th, 1864, he describes his last Sunday as pastor of the 
 Cincinnati Society. 
 
 It was a very stormy day, but the audience was large and the atten- 
 tion all I could desire. I was very much afraid that I should not be 
 able to go through with the service, and I avoided any alhision to the 
 past or to those subjects which would be calculated to excite emotion, 
 and I got through very well. The audience was very much affected. 
 
 -4 213 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 In the afternoon eighteen persons were confirmed. It was a most 
 beautiful and interesting sight and rejoiced my heart greatly. I 
 seemed to be reaping the harvest of my past labors. 
 
 After the confirmations the Sacrament of the Holy Supper was ad- 
 ministered to one hundred and twenty-five communicants, the largest 
 number ever assembled on such an occasion in Cincinnati since I came 
 here, except at the General Convention. This is four or five times as 
 many as were present when I administered it here for the first time. 
 If it had not been a stormy day there would doubtless have been many 
 more. 
 
 The whole proceedings were certainly very gratifying to me and I 
 rejoice at this evidence that I have been of some use to the Church and 
 for this encouragement which may lead to greater activity for the future. 
 The Lord be praised for it. 
 
 May 11th finds Mr. Giles still in Cincinnati. The following is the 
 last record in his diary from tliat place: 
 
 In the evening I attended a meeting of the Society. They presented 
 me with a copy of Appleton's American Encyclopedia and a check for 
 a thousand dollars. A part of this sum was due to me and a part of it 
 was a gift. The presentation was made in behalf of the Society by 
 Wm. S. Merrell, and I made some sort of a reply, I hardly know 
 what, for I was perfectly exhausted and was laboring under an intense 
 nervous headache. So closed my connection with the First New Jerusa- 
 lem Society of Cincinnati. 
 
 The family moved four times during its stay in Cincinnati. Their 
 first house was in the parsonage on 7th Street. This was afterwards 
 sold, and they removed to Vine Street Hill. Here they occupied succes- 
 sively two different houses. At the time of leaving Cincinnati they 
 lived at 261 Longworth Street. This move to the city was much re- 
 gretted by one of the little boys, who said, " There was no outdoors 
 there." 
 
 The street was the centre of some stirring scenes during the Civil War 
 when regiments on their way South would march through. On one 
 occasion the men halted in front of the house and some very excited 
 children rapturously served the men with coffee and doughnuts. 
 
 -^ 214 )^'-
 
 CINCINNATI PASTORATE, 1862-1864 
 
 The occasional contraband from the South would find his way here, 
 and the curious children listened with keen interest to plantation songs 
 and hymns. 
 
 The Prince of Wales drove through the street in state when visiting 
 the city. His appearance was a keen disappointment to a little girl 
 steeped in fairy lore who expected to see him arrayed in green velvet 
 with a hat adorned with long green plumes. How sad to find him only 
 an ordinary man! 
 
 Lincoln passed by on his way to his first inaugural. It is a tribute 
 to his remarkable presence that in that one brief glimpse his features 
 stamped themselves indelibly upon a little child's mind. 
 
 The street was the only playground for the children. The neighbors 
 were friendly, and a pleasant memory remains of summer evenings 
 when ladies in light summer dresses sat on their doorsteps with the men 
 of the family who had not gone to the war, and the children played in 
 groups on the sidewalk. 
 
 A child's memory is a capricious thing, and does not always preserve 
 matters of importance. I well remember, however, the glow that filled 
 my childish heart when on coming in from play or school my mother's 
 gentle greeting fell upon my ear. The sweetness of it seemed like a 
 benediction. Also the sunshine that seemed to fill the room when 
 Father with his cheery smile would visit a small invalid and say, "' Why, 
 you are looking as bright as a dollar! " One felt better immediately. 
 
 We were often naughty, and sometimes corporal punishment was ad- 
 ministered, but not in anger. 
 
 One of my earliest recollections is of extreme terror during a thunder 
 storm. How gently my father took me in his arms and, while the thun- 
 der rolled and the lightning flashed, how ineffaceably he impressed upon 
 me the fact of the Heavenly Father's protecting care. That fear was then 
 removed for life. Another lesson taught in those very early days was 
 this: some of the boys were laughing at me and I began to cry. Said 
 Fatlier (I remember his very words this time), "Carrie, when people 
 laugh at you, laugh too, and they will stop." Struggling with my tears 
 I obeyed and forced a laugh, with the desired result of silencing the 
 teasing boys. 
 
 Another incident which occurred to my eldest brother will illustrate 
 some of my father's methods. 
 
 One of my brother's playmates, older and bigger than he. was a bully 
 and often taunted him with threats and sometimes struck him. As 
 Warren bore this treatment without retaliation Father feared he was 
 
 '■■4 215 }§►-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 lacking in proper spirit, and wishing to teach him to defend himself 
 said, "The next time that boy strikes you show liim that you will not 
 submit to such treatment." My brother's reply was characteristic. 
 " Why, Father,"' he said, " I am afraid I might hurt him." 
 
 However, in a few days when the boy began fresh assaults, my brother 
 quietly and promptly took him over his knee and spanked him. It is 
 needless to say there was no further trouble from the humiliated bully. 
 
 We all loved Cincinnati, and all but the youngest two deeply felt 
 leaving the place. One of the children declared her intention of saving 
 her pocket money in order to return. 
 
 The journey was a hard one for dear Mother. Father had gone on 
 to meet his obligations in New York. With six children she set out on 
 the long and tedious journey. I do not remember about the sleeping 
 accommodations, but it was necessary to provide the food for several 
 meals. My brother Chauncey, pale and thin from his severe illness, 
 was in a very weak state and required close care, and my youngest 
 brotlier was only two years old. Willi so many small children the 
 journey must have been very fatiguing. 
 
 From the car windows one looked on miles of forest and many log 
 houses. 
 
 The family did not go immediately to New York, but visited for a 
 month in Palmyra, my mother's native place. This was a most benefi- 
 cial experience, enabling Mrs. Giles to recover from the fatigue of 
 breaking up in Cincinnati and restoring to perfect health the brother 
 who was recovering from typhoid fever. 
 
 In the latter part of May or early in June the family moved to New 
 York, to No. 43 East 33rd Street, near Park Avenue. 
 
 -<i 216 }■>••
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 The New York Society — Introductory 
 
 T 
 
 JL o readers of the early history of the New Church in this country 
 the period of its beginnings seems very remote. And yet a small thing 
 may bridge die gulf of time and bring the first meetings for worship 
 very near. Such a link with tlie past is some old, yellow paper, very 
 like parchment, the writing upon it faded but legible, signed with 
 the name "William Hill." Upon this paper are two letters written in 
 1795 in New Utrecht to Mrs. Bragg upon the death of her husband and 
 Mr. Mott the same week. They had been preserved by Mr. Bragg's 
 daughter, Mrs. Rabone, and were given to Rev. Chauncey Giles in the 
 year 1875. With the letters is a pen and ink sketch of a house front. 
 No. 310 Water Street, New York. Here Mr. and Mrs. Bragg lived 
 after Uiey left England, and here were held some of the first meetings 
 of New Church people in New York City. 
 
 Mrs. Rabone, in a note to Rev. C. Giles, writes: 
 
 Mr. Mott was a partner with my father. My father went to Amer- 
 ica upon the disaster to the first place of worship ever built expressly 
 for the New Church; the gentlemen who built it failed and there was 
 much trouble to many families. Mr. Hill came to New York very 
 soon after Father, and I believe our house was the first in which a few 
 friends met, and my father gave books to die library, which my son 
 saw when he was twenty-four years old. My motlier and the three chil- 
 dren she took with her returned to England, and Mr. Hill was most 
 kind in assisting her. He was not married at that time, but his death 
 occurred in 1804. 
 
 His widow came to see my mother several years after in Birming- 
 ham, on her way to Scotland. I heard that she keeps a school in Edin- 
 burgh. I learned this only a few years since. Mr. Hills widow was, 
 before marriage, a Miss Esther Duche, daughter of Rev. James Duche, 
 who in Philadelphia offered die first prayer in the Continental Congress. 
 
 --si 217 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 The wedding of Mr. Hill and Miss Duche is mentioned as the first New 
 Church marriage on earth. 
 
 Wlien Mr. Giles came to New York in 186S, the society had at 
 length found a permanent home in the churcli in Thirty-fifth Street. 
 This was attained after many changes: from schoolhouse to hall, from 
 hall to church, and again to rooms rented in various buildings. 
 
 The first New Churchman of whom we have any record is a Mr. 
 Russell, who came to the city from Halifax in 1793. The first meeting 
 for worship was held the following year, four persons being present: 
 Mr. Edward Riley, Mr. James (^hesterman, Mr. Samuel Woodworth, 
 and a Mrs. Gallon. Although there were meetings for several years, a 
 society was not organized until 1816. It was called the "Association 
 of tlie City of New York."' Few as were the members, they felt tlie im- 
 portance of giving to others tlie truths they enjoyed. It was impressed 
 upon each one "either by conversation or otherwise, to communicate 
 to all around him whatever knowledge he may have acquired ol the 
 Heavenly doctrines, having a due regard to time and circumstance." 
 
 Conversation was not the only means employed, for Mr. Woodworth, 
 author of " The Old Oaken Bucket," issued a periodical, one of the 
 first New Church magazines in the country, called the Halcyon Lumi- 
 nary. It had but a brief existence. 
 
 Without following the society to all its places of worship — there 
 were eight between the first one and the permanent settlement in Thirty- 
 fifth Street — some mention will be made of the men who led the 
 people. The first real leader was Mr. C. J. Doughty, who began by 
 preaching on Sunday and practising law during the week. When he 
 decided to renounce entirely his secular calling he was ordained by 
 Rev. M. M. Carll, in 1818. During a part of his ministry the society 
 held services in a church in Pearl Street. At its dedication exercises 
 in 1821 Mr. Carll, who preached the sermon, was robed in white linen 
 as a representative of the Divine Truth, and Mr. Doughty, who read 
 the prayers, wore a black gown to represent contrition and humiliation. 
 
 In 1838 Mr. Doughty severed his connection with the society but 
 continued to hold meetings in his parlor. An outgrowth from this 
 beginning was a second society, which met in a hall in Canal Street. 
 Here Mr. Doughty preached until his death, three years later. The 
 first delegates to the General Convention were sent in 1822. They were 
 Mr. Doughty, Mr. Chesterman, and Mr. Riley. 
 
 An amusing episode of this period was the formation of a "Chari- 
 
 -^ 218 ^'■-
 
 THE NEW YORK SOCIETY — INTRODUCTORY 
 
 table Association which purposed to aid in the regeneration of its mem- 
 bers by telling them their faults." 
 
 Mr. Barrett, who had come into the church from the Unitarians, 
 began his ministiy in the New Church in New York in 1840. During 
 his pastorate he delivered some very remarkable lectures, which were, 
 when given, the most popular New Church lectures that had ever been 
 delivered in this country. They have been since published in book 
 form and constitute one of the standard collateral works of the Church. 
 
 Mr. Barrett was at that time a member of Convention and fully in 
 accord wilh its church polity. He was ordained by the Rev. Thomas 
 Worcester in 1841. When he received a call from the Cincinnati 
 people he left New York for a trial period of three months, leaving 
 Professor George Bush in charge. Mr. Bush, a learned Biblical scholar 
 and Orientalist, had for some time been teaching views of the resur- 
 rection similar to those of the New Church. Wlien his attention was 
 called to this he began to read Swedenborg, and it was not long before 
 he became an avowed New Churchman. He was a great acquisition to 
 the society, and when, after Mr. Barrett's return, the latter accepted the 
 call to Cincinnati, Professor Bush was the obvious successor to him. 
 August 20th, 1848, Mr. Bush was ordained by Mr. Beers into "all the 
 functions of tlie three grades of the ministry at once." This fact will 
 indicate that in New York, as elsewhere, the mooted topic of degrees 
 in the ministry was still unsettled. 
 
 A very important event, not only in the New York Society but in the 
 history of the Church at large, was the formation, on November 1.5th, 
 1850, of the " Swedenborg Printing and Publishing Society." Mr. 
 James Chesterman was president; Mr. John L. Jewett, for many years 
 editor of the Messenger, was its secretary, and its treasurer was 
 Mr. R. C. Moffat, a well-known active worker in the Church, and after- 
 wards a member of the Brooklyn Society. 
 
 Without mentioning all the ministers who preached for a short time 
 only, for ihere were several, I will speak of Rev. Richard DeCharms, 
 who succeeded Professor Bush for a period of three months, because 
 about this lime the New York Society formally withdrew from the 
 General Convention and did not again join it until many years later, 
 during Mr. Giles's pastorate. 
 
 The o|)])osi[ion to Convention arose about the same time that it was 
 manifested in Cincinnati and Philadelphia and from the same causes. 
 The New York Society was not so disrupted thereby as the one in 
 Philadelphia, because its members were practically of one mind on the 
 
 -4 219 }§.•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 subject. Professor Bush, though an admirable intellectual leader, had 
 little or nothing of tlie pastoral quality. He was very strongly opposed 
 to ecclesiasticism and, indeed, to an organized ministry. He was a 
 student par excellence, and many of his works are valuable books of 
 reference for theological students. 
 
 The society owes its present situation in Tliirty-fifth Street to the gen- 
 erosity of Mr. James Chesterman, one of the original four. Mr. Ches- 
 tenuan died in 1854, and in his will left the property on Thirty-fifth 
 Street to the society. Before his death he had offered the lot as a site 
 for a church, but it had then been gratefully declined because of the 
 cost of building, and because its situation was so remote from the 
 active centre of the city. Now, however, after the heirs had executed a 
 conveyance of the property, so that the society could legally avail itself 
 of the bequest, tlie question of building was considered. The comer- 
 stone was laid July 1st, 1858, with appropriate ceremonies, and on 
 February 6th, 1859, the church was dedicated to the worship of " the 
 one only God, the Lord Jesus Christ." Professor Bush delivered the 
 dedicatory address, and his lecture in the evening was the last public 
 address given by him before his death. 
 
 The New York Society has numbered among its members not only 
 many earnest, sincere New Churchmen, but some of reputation in the 
 secular world as well. Such was Dr. Hans B. Gram, the first homeo- 
 pathic physician to come to this country. He came in 1825, settled in 
 New York, and became a valuable member of Mr. Doughty's society. 
 
 Then there was Samuel Woodworth, poet, publisher, and lay teacher. 
 He was one of tlie original four who formed the first society. He was 
 one of the founders of the General Convention and for many years its 
 secretary. In the latter part of his life he lost influence in Convention 
 because of his disagreement with certain measures advocated by its 
 leaders. His last years were spent in retirement, but his ardent interest 
 was maintained to the end. 
 
 In more modem times Charles A. Dana, noted in the literary world 
 and for many years one of the editors of the Neiv York Sun, was a 
 regular attendant at the Sunday services. 
 
 On the list of subscribers to the building fund for the present church 
 is the name of John Bigelow. He is well known for his services to his 
 country as ambassador to Germany, but of his warm interest in the doc- 
 trines of the New Church the world at large is ignorant. He has written 
 several tracts and books expressive of this interest and explanatory of 
 the New Church standpoint. Of the former, "Resist Beginnings" is 
 
 -^ 220 }>■-
 
 THE NEW YORK SOCIETY — INTRODUCTORY 
 
 a good example, and the two books, "The Bible that was Lost and is 
 Found " and " The Mystery of Sleep " are valuable contributions to 
 New Church literature. 
 
 So, from its humble beginnings in a downtown schooUiouse, the four 
 earnest members who met there laid the foundations of the present 
 society. 
 
 The fluctuating character of the population of New York renders it 
 a difficult situation for the establishment of a successful society. Many 
 people come to the metropolis, called by business needs, for a short time 
 only; many of those who settle permanently live in widely distant parts 
 of the city, so that concentration in any one locality has its difficulties. 
 Differences also as to church polity had had here, as in Cincinnati and 
 Philadelphia, a disintegrating effect. 
 
 With the advent of Rev. Abiel Silver the New York people had their 
 first resident minister for many years. He was a remarkably clear 
 and convincing speaker, and as a pastor his earnest love for the New 
 Church truths and his sympathetic manner of presenting them deeply 
 attached the members of the congregation to him and knit them more 
 closely together. His house in Thirty-fifth Street, not far from the 
 church, was a parochial centre, and in it were held many delightful 
 social meetings. 
 
 His daughter. Miss Ednah Silver, writes of the time: "It was the 
 Civil War period, and the attention of New Churchmen was divided 
 between the country and the church. Communication with the South 
 was cut off, so that the brethren north and south of the Mason and 
 Dixon line knew but little of each other. This was a loss to the church 
 at large." 
 
 The circumstances attendant upon Mr. Giles's going to New York 
 exemplify so well a true love for the Church on the part of all con- 
 cerned that it may be well to go somewhat into detail. 
 
 For at least a year before Mr. Giles left Cincinnati there was 
 correspondence between him and Mr. Hitchcock relative to a move to 
 New York. Mr. Giles's deep attachment to the Cincinnati Society and 
 his earnest wish to be guided by the Divine Providence led him to 
 weigh carefully every aspect of the case before decision. He not only 
 thought of his own viewpoint but wished also to consider that of the 
 Rev. Mr. Silver, the pastor of the New York Society at that time. 
 
 In one of his letters he writes: 
 
 If your society or Mr. Silver desires any change, it may be that the 
 way is opening for ihe removal of any difficulties with respect to him. 
 
 -*4 221 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 It has come to my knowledge within a few days that the society at Wil- 
 mington greatly desires to get him back, again. They like him better 
 than any minister they have ever had and think him peculiarly fitted 
 for their wants. This I have from an undoubted authority. They were 
 very much surprised and grieved when he left, and I have heard that 
 Mr. Silver has said that he would never have left Wilmington if he 
 had known how much they were attached to liini. Tliey will probably 
 open a correspondence with him immediately to see if it is possible to 
 get him back again. It is possible, however, that he may not entertain 
 the idea. 
 
 So far as I am concerned, I wish it distinctly understood that I have 
 no desire to supplant Mr. Silver or to procure or hasten his removal 
 from New York. I esteem him very highly as a good and useful 
 minister, and I would not interfere with him in any way. There is 
 nothing gained by plucking fruit before it is ripe. The Divine Provi- 
 dence opens every useful and proper way for us to work: all that we 
 have to do is to follow the open path and do the work. If they should 
 invite Mr. Silver to return to Wilmington and he knew the exact state 
 of feeling in both societies, he might think it best to accept the invita- 
 tion, and then the way would be open for your society to take such 
 action for supplying his place as it deemed best. 
 
 As nothing was yet decided diis correspondence was at the time con- 
 fidential. The proverbial " little bird," however, whispered something 
 of the nature of this correspondence to Mr. Silver, who some time 
 after sent in his resignation to the New York Society, so that its people 
 might freely express their preference. 
 
 Tliere were many who were warmly attached to Mr. Silver and wished 
 him to remain. Indeed, after the meeting in the vestry for the dis- 
 cussion of the subject, Mr. Hitchcock, who was the prime mover in the 
 invitation to Mr. Giles, went to Mr. Silver and said: "Mr. Silver, I 
 wanted Giles and I thought every one wanted him. Stay and I will 
 work just as hard for you as I would for him." 
 
 " But [to quote from Miss Silver] my father felt it best to remain 
 by his determination. In fact, circumstances seemed to point that way. 
 In a letter to the society he told them that he was getting on in years, 
 he had had warnings of overwork in publishing his books and the geo- 
 
 -4 222 ^.-
 
 THE NEW YORK SOCIETY — INTRODUCTORY 
 
 graphical area of the parish was very large. Members were scattered 
 from lower New York to High Bridge, were in Staten Island, Long 
 Island, and New Jersey. 
 
 " Putting it thus, and quite sincerely, on entirely impersonal grounds, 
 he helped to make the people as united as possible in their welcome to 
 Mr. Giles, for whom he said many a good word." 
 
 In one of Mr. Hitchcock's letters to Mr. Giles he mentioned the deep 
 regret felt by many at Mr. Silver's departure. In reply, Mr. Giles 
 wrote : 
 
 Yours of the 15th has just come to hand. I am not surprised but 
 rather gratified at the feeling of your people toward Mr. Silver. He 
 is a most excellent man and possesses those kind and gentle qualities 
 which would naturally endear him to a large part of the congregation; 
 it is creditable to them that they could not give him up without much 
 reluctance. I like Mr. Silver as well, if not better, than any minister in 
 the Church, and I think he has been and still is among the most useful 
 of them. I have no doubt he has been of great use to your people, and 
 I feel much more confidence in accepting a call from them than I 
 should if I knew they did not like him. 
 
 Mr. Silver went to New York in May, 1860, and left in May, 1864, 
 for Wilmington, his former pastorate. He was warmly beloved by 
 every society under his charge. It would be pleasant and exceptionally 
 interesting to tell of the manner of his coming into the New Church, 
 but as Miss Silver relates it in her account of some of the early New 
 Church people it seems best not to repeat the incident. 
 
 Thus, with the best interests of the New Church at heart, these two 
 good men began their pastorates in different fields of labor. 
 
 -Hsf 223 )S^-
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 New York Pastorate, 1864-1870 
 
 T 
 
 X o go from a city in which one has warm friends everywhere, from 
 a neighborhood in which all are at least acquaintances, and most 
 friends, to the more formal life of the great metropolis, was a change 
 to all of the family and difficult of adjustment. To each one there was 
 a sense of social loss in the new life in New York. But youth is elastic, 
 and readily adapts itself to new conditions. As to my parents, their 
 vitally essential motive of life was to promote the welfare and growth 
 of the New Church; so the strangeness of their surroundings and their 
 comparative isolation, so to speak, in a great city did not matter. 
 
 The family was established at 43 East Thirty-third Street, the house, 
 one of a block of English basement houses. Private stables extended 
 from our house to the comer of Park Avenue. Nearly opposite was a 
 foundry used by the New York and New Haven railroad for repairing 
 its old locomotives. The present Park Avenue Hotel now occupies this 
 ground. 
 
 From the Thirty-fourth Street opening of the tunnel which extends 
 under Park Avenue from Forty-second Street issued singly and drawn 
 by horses the cars of the Boston trains. They moved slowly down 
 Fourth Avenue to the depot at Twenty-seventh Street, at which place 
 the passengers debarked. 
 
 There were very few houses on Park Avenue above Thirty-fourth 
 Street, and the little parks which give the avenue its name were choked 
 with weeds. The neighborhood was a good one notwithstanding these 
 drawbacks. The family much enjoyed the purer, cooler air of New 
 York with its freedom from coal dust. 
 
 On May 15th, 1864, Father writes: "Preached my first sermon in 
 the great babel of New York. 133d Psalm." 
 
 The New York Society had offered its church to Convention and that 
 body met in it June 8th. Twelve years before this the New York people 
 had withdrawn from Convention. Some one remarked to Mr. Giles 
 soon after his arrival: "You need not expect to induce this society to 
 join the Convention; it never will." To which he replied: "I shall not 
 try, but you will do it." A year later the society, with others in the 
 
 -'<{ 224 ^-.-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1864-1870 
 
 neighborhood, formed the New York Association, which after another 
 year united with the general body of the church. 
 
 During the hot weather many of the parishioners were away for the 
 summer months. Services were held every Sunday, but few attended. 
 In the autumn the really active work of the society began. 
 
 The season opened with a series of lectures in October which con- 
 tinued until March. It was the most successful course Mr. Giles had 
 ever delivered. There were good audiences who were profoundly in- 
 terested. Eleven of the lectures were printed and circulated and 
 sent to many societies. Three of these lectures were on " New Disclo- 
 sures of Divine Truth"; "The First and Second Death"; "The 
 New Church, a New Dispensation of Divine Truth." There were 
 crowded houses to listen to tlie course on the Spiritual World. Some 
 of the subjects were " Death and the Resurrection," " The World of 
 Spirits," " Preparedness for Heaven," " The Incarnation," " Christ's 
 Sufferings and Their Relation to Human Salvation," etc. These lec- 
 tures were repeated in Hoboken and in December, 1864, Mr. Giles 
 gave tliree of them in Mount Vernon. 
 
 This series of discourses is memorable not because of dieir tempo- 
 rary success, which was great, but because some of them formed the 
 basis of the well-known book, " The Nature of Spirit, or Man as a Spir- 
 itual Being." Mr. Giles writes of the lectures: 
 
 The society here has adopted a little different course from any I 
 have ever seen tried before. They printed two thousand circulars and 
 placed a number of them in the seats of the church and I asked the 
 people to read and circulate them. 
 
 The day before the lectures began some of these circulars were dis- 
 tributed to every house in the vicinity of the church. The result was 
 that the church aisles and the vestibule were jammed and some people 
 went away. The next night was very stormy, but the house was com- 
 pactly filled and last night we had another jam. They had the first 
 lecture printed during the week, and on the Sabbath I announced the 
 fact and invited any one who chose to take a copy. They were placed 
 in the vestibule; five hundred copies were soon taken. Tlie next lecture 
 was also printed and distributed in the same way. The third one will 
 be printed this week. So far the effect has been to collect one of the 
 most intelligent audiences I ever addressed. 
 
 -•^H 225 H*"
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 After the first three lectures were pulilishcd I thought I would wait 
 until tile whole course was completed and then puhlish them in a book, 
 but there is so much demand for them that it was thought best to print 
 them separately. There are some advantages in this. They are more 
 convenient for distribution, and often a person will read a small pam- 
 phlet wlien he would not read a book. They are being circulated 
 tlirough the country very extensively. 
 
 I delivered a funeral discourse in Henry Ward Beecher's church last 
 Sabbath afternoon. Beecher intended to be there and take part in the 
 services but he was called away. So tlie work goes on. 
 
 Certainly the book on " The Nature of Spirit " is the work by which 
 Mr. Giles is best known. And yet it is a curious fact tliat in the minor 
 notice given him in Warner's " World's Best Authors" he is mentioned 
 only as a writer of children's stories. 
 
 In May, 1865, these lectures were repeated in New Haven, the first 
 New Church discourses ever given there. Mr. Giles wrote: 
 
 The New Church friends were quite happily disappointed at finding 
 so many persons present. I don't think they expected more than a 
 baker's dozen. 
 
 The General Convention of 1865 was held in Chicago. Mr. Giles 
 writes from here June 17tJi: 
 
 It is now Saturday, five o'clock p. M., and I have a moment to write 
 before going into committee. It has been an intensely hot day. I long 
 to breathe the air of New York again. I have been at work ever since 
 four o'clock this morning. The resolutions on the state of the country 
 were put upon me again and they are the most difficult to write of any, 
 but diey gave general satisfaction. 
 
 On the whole I think we have had a pleasant and useful Convention. 
 There have been some sharp debates, but good feeling has prevailed 
 and I think much good has been done. I made a speech yesterday on 
 the duty of raising $20,000 for the Publishing House in New York. 
 Mrs. H. says I am the most splendid beggar she ever saw. 
 
 After Convention he visited Cincinnati. Here Mr. Giles and his 
 daughter Lucy were most warmly greeted by their old friends. They 
 
 -^ 226 ^•-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1864-1870 
 
 took tea at one place, spent the night at another, and even breakfasted 
 at a third in order to fill their engagements. After describing his visit 
 in detail, he says: 
 
 I hope you are all well and not so tired as I am. I have been going, 
 going, until I am almost gone. Cincinnati is hot, dirty, and smoky, 
 but there are a great many pleasant people in it. 
 
 Encouraged by the interest in the lectures given the previous year, 
 the New York society hired the great hall of Cooper Union for three 
 successive Sundays. The subjects of these lectures were " Death," 
 "Tlie Resurrection of Man," and "The Life of Man after Death." 
 Later were given lectures on " Swedenborg " and " The New Church, 
 a New Dispensation of Divine Truth." Father writes in October: 
 
 We are making arrangements to deliver three lectures in the great 
 hall of Cooper Union. It will hold three thousand people, and I hardly 
 think we can fill it. 
 
 The attendance was very good, however, and the lectures excited 
 much attention in the papers and elsewhere. Some people were brought 
 into the society, but the most obvious effect was the use served in bring- 
 ing the New Church views before the public, to whom they had been but 
 little known. In writing to a friend Mr. Giles says: 
 
 I have written and published this winter an amount of matter equal 
 to a 12mo. volume. 
 
 It was in this year (1865) that Mr. Giles, in association with Mr. 
 Thomas Hitchcock, edited the New Jerusalem Messenger. This was 
 very engrossing work and added greatly to his labors. Besides his 
 duties as editor, he had also llio details of proof-reading and the gen- 
 eral make-up of the paper. To complete the latter he frequently had 
 to provide personally much copy in addition to the editorial leaders. 
 
 To edit a weekly paper, a magazine for chililren, and lo speak al- 
 ways twice and often three times on Sunday, was no small task. When 
 one remembers that Mr. Giles was a sufferer from rheuinatism (for 
 forty years he diil not know what it was to be free from pain), that there 
 were frequent headaches and, worse than these, a constant noise at the 
 base of the brain like the croaking of frogs, when one remembers these 
 
 -•.!:■{ 227 )>;*•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 handicaps, his industry was remarkable. A friend said once lliat 
 other people did not learn the lesson of patience from Mr. Giles's en- 
 durance of pain which they should because he bore it as if it did not 
 exist. 
 
 Of Mr. Hitchcock's articles he writes to Mr. Williams: 
 
 How do you like the editorials signed "T. H."? Tliey are certainly 
 opening a new vein for the Messenger. It has always seemed to me 
 that one prominent use of a New Church paper was the discussion of 
 morals and the application of spiritual principles to social and civil 
 duties. This would be a much greater service to humanity llian the 
 formation of new creeds or the dry bones of merely doctrinal truth. 
 The articles were written by Mr. Hitchcock and are a good illustration 
 of the manner in which the way opens before us when we begin to 
 work. Mr. Stuart wanted some one to report my* lectures and I sent 
 him to Mr. Hitchcock. He commenced, and becoming interested 
 thought he would write an article; that one suggested another, and I 
 do not know when he will stop. 
 
 I find myself more and more inclined to use the Messenger to urge 
 practical work than to state merely abstract propositions. What say 
 you? Don't we need more directness and earnestness? The more I 
 get inside of the workings or the non-workings of our affairs, the more 
 I am inclined to think that New Church people need plain talk and much 
 pushing, and I don't know but I might do a little of it if I were not 
 afraid of hurting somebody. 
 
 I am disappointed in the twenty thousand dollar movement. We may 
 succeed, but it is going to hang and drag along. We want five thou- 
 sand dollars to-day to put the publishing room in a condition to do its 
 work properly. We ought to begin to publish something more than 
 Swedenborg's works. There are many persons who think that the lec- 
 tures I delivered last winter ought to be stereotyped. Many of them are 
 out of print, but there is a constant call for them. I am going to revise 
 them, and if the Convention would publish them it would help along 
 so much. But there are no means. 
 
 We must have a new edition of the Liturgy and of " Heaven and 
 Hell," but there are no means. The Appletons offer us the balance of 
 
 -4 228 ^-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1864^1870 
 
 the edition of Mr. Silver's lectures at such a rate that we could make a 
 handsome profit upon it, but there are no means to purchase it. And so 
 we go grinding from hand to moutli with our heads just above water, 
 because the church will not give us what is necessary to do our work. 
 If you can raise anything in Urbana, send it on. One dollar now will 
 be much more than a dollar at the end of the year. I am afraid I am 
 getting impatient and cross. Cant you throw a little oil on the troubled 
 waters? 
 
 In this correspondence with Mr. Williams many phases of the work 
 of tlie Church are discussed. During the Civil War the school in Urbana 
 was closed. Of this action Mr. Giles approved: 
 
 I think you have acted wisely about the college. It would have been 
 too great a load to carry to attempt any movement this year. It is 
 better to be still awhile than to waste strength by spasmodic efforts to 
 do impossible things. The time must come when the right man will 
 be found for that place, and when there will be no insurmountable 
 obstacle, internal or external, to the success of the college. 
 
 Sometimes the letters are in a jocose vein: 
 
 I understand Mr. Sewall is going to Europe in a few weeks and that 
 Mr. Hayden will supply his place when he is gone. Wliat will you do 
 at Urbana? I think you would better renew your license and begin 
 preaching. If you will get a respectable number of reputable people to 
 sign a petition for a license, I will give you one for a year. We will 
 give you a fair trial, and if you behave pretty well and do not take too 
 many (we must expect some) ministerial airs upon yourself you may 
 get it renewed for another year. Here 's a chance for you. 
 
 I really do not know what title to give you, whether Prof., Mr., 
 Esq., Capt., or Col. In these warlike times one is less likely to go 
 amiss by giving a military title than any other. But I have not heard 
 of your getting a commission or even of being a " high private." Once 
 a bishop, always a bishop, they say. According to the same rule it 
 ought to be, "once a professor, always a professor." How is it? You 
 might not like to be addressed as plain Mr. after having been a tilled 
 
 -4 229 }>'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 dignitary, so in this wonderful state of affairs I have concluded to be 
 civil and give you a civil title. If I am wrong, please set me right. 
 
 "Boston is the Hub of the Universe." So says the Professor, and, 
 notwithstanding your apparent indifference to titles, I think I under- 
 stand tlie sly hint about the Athens of America being authority, " hence 
 die professor." I consider the important question settled, and I pro- 
 ceed to other matters of lesser note. 
 
 In one of his letters a reference is made to the formation of a New 
 Church Historical Library, now an accomplished fact. 
 
 A little done every year will in half a century produce great results. 
 One object I had in view in moving the resolutions was to preserve the 
 papers, pamphlets, sermons, and various editions of the works of 
 Swedenborg, and the collateral works as samples of our own work and 
 materials for the full understanding and growth of the Church. I 
 doubt whether the Convention has now in its possession a complete set 
 of its own edition of the " Arcana." 
 
 In February, 1866, he writes: 
 
 I have never seen so much interest in the New Church doctrines as 
 there is now. Our house is crowded morning and evening, and there 
 is a kind of absorbed attention which I have never noticed before. I am 
 trying to do what I can. I have delivered nearly thirty discourses this 
 winter outside of my own church, but the little we can do seems almost 
 nothing. I think our people are beginning to awake to their social 
 duties. Our last sociable at Everett Hall was rather a grand affair. 
 There were over four hundred present and I have never seen a more 
 orderly and happy assembly. On the whole, things look very prosper- 
 ous here. 
 
 With regard to social life, Mr. Giles had very decided views. If the 
 principles he advocated were always put in practice, there never would 
 be an unsuccessful party and merely perfunctory social intercourse 
 would be an impossibility. He disliked to hear any one say, "I have 
 enjoyed myself very much." He said, " One does not go out to enjoy 
 ' one's self ' but others^ When one goes into company he should do so 
 
 -^ 230 )•>=-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1864-1870 
 
 with the thought of bringing his best as a contribution to the general 
 entertainment. If he sees another shy or withdrawn into a comer, a 
 kind word or some tactful effort to bring him into the circle should be 
 used. 
 
 With regard to cooperation with others in work, he says: 
 There is no use in finding fault with other people. If any man has 
 the will or power to do anytliing let him go and do it, and if he can do 
 it more efficiently than any one else so much the better. 
 
 When the New York Association met in May, 1866, a vote was taken 
 to join the Convention. Mr. Giles had hoped that the holding of Con- 
 vention in New York by invitation of the Association might naturally 
 lead to this result and he was much gratified. 
 
 In the spring of 1866 some relatives of my mother's, who owned a 
 small house in Conway, Massachusetts, died. The surviving cousins 
 offered the furnished house to us for the summer, and the family thus 
 had its first long vacation. Conway is a small village about six miles 
 from Soudi Deerfield. The railway did not pass through it at that 
 time, and one arrived by means of the stagecoach which ran daily from 
 South Deerfield. One comes upon the little hamlet very suddenly after 
 a turn in the road and looks down upon tlie village street with its 
 wooden houses, partly concealed by the trees and gardens which sur- 
 round them. It is a pleasant little place and our summer there was 
 one of keen enjoyment. To the children, the free life of tlie country 
 was a delightful change after the heat, dust, and noise of the city. To 
 my father tliere was the additional pleasure of revisiting the scenes 
 of his boyhood and of showing them to my mother. Charlemont, my 
 father's native place, was within driving distance. It was my privilege 
 as a little girl to be allowed to sit on a " cricket " in the front of the 
 buggy which conveyed my parents through this very interesting region. 
 Both my mother and father were ardent lovers of nature. Their com- 
 ments on the many beauties of that picturesque country did much to 
 cultivate and awaken my own love of fine scenery, and tlie frequent 
 and perfectly unconscious way in which their admiration would turn 
 from " nature to nature's God " made likewise its deep impression. In 
 driving through Franklin County they would often stop before farms 
 on which Father hail worketl when a boy. There were always inter- 
 esting incidents of iiis own experience to relate or some graphic char- 
 acter sketch of the farmer's family. 
 
 -*4 231 )•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 We had just forded the clear and stony Deerfield River and entered 
 the village of Charlemont, when we were suddenly stopped by a man 
 who said, " Why, Chauncey Giles, how do you do? " This man had 
 not seen my father since he was a boy, but recognized him from his 
 close resemblance to his own father at the same age. 
 
 I well remember when we drove to a modest white cottage with a lilac 
 bush at the door, [the home of his boyhood] how Father said, " Here 
 it is." Then, after an interval of silence, in a feeling tone of sadness, 
 "How hard my mother worked! How hard she worked!" And then 
 we drove on and dined with an uncle; we had previously spent the night 
 with some cousins. They had family prayers of strictly orthodox 
 length and character and I remember that Father said, " They are con- 
 tent in their religion; it is best not to disturb tlieni," to which my 
 mother agreed. 
 
 Many years later I revisited these scenes, and the uncle with whom 
 we dined that day gave me much interesting information with regard 
 to Fatlier's parents, his boyhood, etc. 
 
 In the latter part of July Mr. Giles went from Conway to Williams- 
 town to attend a reunion of his class. This he much enjoyed. 
 
 To live in Conway, even for the summer months, was very like re- 
 visiting the rural New England of Mrs. Stowe's books. The ideas and 
 customs of the people had changed very little since my father's boyhood. 
 
 The daily arrival of the stagecoach was the one stirring event, — the 
 village's sole means of contact with the outer world. There were three 
 church services on Sunday, with prayers and sermons of typically old- 
 fashioned length. Those who came from a distance brought their din- 
 ners and ate tliem at the noon hour, according to old New England 
 custom. The Sabbath was very strictly observed. It was even con- 
 sidered wicked to take a walk anywhere on diat day except to the 
 cemetery. 
 
 A singing school of the do-re-mi tuning fork kind met once a week, 
 and it was one of my childhood's pleasures to attend it. 
 
 One modem wave of recreation had managed to flow over this 
 stranded village, — the game of croquet, which had that summer 
 spread rapidly over the country. The wickets were laid out in the 
 schoolhouse yard, and my father took great pleasure in playing the 
 game and derived much benefit from it. It was a memorable summer 
 to the family, and a happy one. 
 
 On January 28tli, 1867, Mr. Giles, in a letter to Mr. Williams, out- 
 lines his conception of a possible Theological School : 
 
 -4, 232 }3«-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1864-1870 
 
 I tliink a city or close proximity to one a better location for such a 
 school than the country, because there are many tilings that ought to 
 be taught which could be done by teachers engaged especially for the 
 occasion. This could not be so well done in the country. I do not think 
 it is wise to spend much time upon the falsities of the old theology, but 
 I would have a very thorough instruction in some things which are not 
 commonly taught in such schools. 
 
 There should be a pretty thorough course in physiology, vegetable 
 and animal, for spiritual things must be illustrated by natural. Provi- 
 sion should be made for a thorough knowledge of the Hebrew, Greek, 
 and Latin languages, witli special reference to the Word and to the 
 writings of Swedenborg. I do not care so much about any of these 
 languages in their merely classical aspects and bearings. The Word 
 itself should be read in the most thorough manner, and so should the 
 writings of Swedenborg. 
 
 The philosophy of the New Church should be taught fully and effi- 
 ciently. The " Divine Love and Wisdom " and " Divine Providence " 
 should be studied and made the bases of courses of lectures until the 
 great principles which they contain are understood by all who have 
 brains to understand them, and those who have not should become shoe- 
 makers and tailors. 
 
 Then comes the science of Correspondences, which involves the rela- 
 tion of the spiritual world to the natural — and some other things. " It 
 is the science of sciences." 
 
 Then I would have the students thoroughly trained in speaking. 
 There should be a daily exercise in which every mother's son of them 
 should speak extempore, say five minutes, upon some doctrine. Tiiere 
 should be thorough vocal culture, etc. 
 
 There would be the " mint, and anise, and cummin " of many other 
 things, but "these weightier matters of the law" and judgment should 
 receive the first attention. 
 
 I am afraid I have frightened you by the extent of my plan, but I 
 do not believe that a young man can be thoroughly trained for this 
 greatest and most difficult of all employments in six easy lessons, or by 
 
 -4 233 ]^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 listening to a few old sermons that some of our ministers have prepared 
 as soporifics for the congregations. . . . 
 
 We are having bright and sharp winter weather here. We are all in 
 good health. Our house is well filled morning and evening, and I am 
 trying to teach the truth as well as I can. But I feel the need of the 
 kind of thorough training which my ideal Theological School would 
 give, so much, that if 1 knew I could preach ten years longer I believe 
 I should be willing to spend three of them in learning how to do my 
 work in the rest. 
 
 After discussing the advisability of purchasing the Seminary build- 
 ing for the Urbana school and approving of doing it, he writes on 
 October 29th, 1867: 
 
 I find great attention paid to the surroundings and external appear- 
 ance of school buildings in every place in which education is much 
 considered. The old, unpainted, dilapidated, desolate schoolhouses 
 are disappearing and handsome structures, tidy, attractive, and whole- 
 some to every sense and convenient for every use, are taking their 
 places. We must put the New Church into our houses as well as into 
 our heads. 
 
 If we expect to succeed in Urbana we must take hold of the school 
 in a different spirit from what we have done. It is easier to have a good 
 and successful school tlian a half-a-line and very poor one. 
 
 In a letter of December 12th, 1867, we find the first mention of one 
 of his books for children — "The Wonderful Pocket." He writes: 
 
 Can't you dispose of some copies of my little book for Christmas 
 presents? 1 am anxious to have Putnam sell as many as he can to en- 
 courage him to go ahead and publish a series. It is out to-day and is 
 a very pretty book. I can speak of the " getting-up " of the book with- 
 out hesitation. The stories themselves are no worse than many others. 
 
 The general health of the family was much better in New York than 
 in Cincinnati. There were, however, severe trials in the East as well 
 as in the West. Such was the very serious illness of Lucy Giles in the 
 spring of 1867. 
 
 -4 234 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1864^1870 
 
 In August of this year Mr. Giles made a short visit to Fire Island, 
 then a fashionable seaside resort. He thus comments on some of the 
 visitors to the place: 
 
 It is useful to see how other people in external conditions different 
 from our own, act and feel. Rich people often assume a great deal 
 of superiority on account of tlieir wealth. They think it gives them 
 some advantage and makes them better, and others are apt to accept 
 their own estimate of tlieir superiority. But if we grant that their ideas 
 are true, which they are not, those who are occupying honorable profes- 
 sions are fully on an equality with them. It is best, however, to forget 
 our outward conditions as far as possible and to feel kindly towards 
 all, and to act out our kind feelings freely to one person as much as to 
 anotlier when opportunity offers. 
 
 If you could see what poverty of soul those people have who think 
 they are better because they have more money than others and what a 
 broken reed their wealth is, I am sure you would not be oppressed by 
 tlieir money or their manners, but would feel the same freedom to do 
 them any good that you would any person in the humblest walk of life. 
 
 Besides his regular duties as pastor of the Thirty-fifth Street Society, 
 with the sermons and lectures delivered in that church, it was usual 
 every year for Mr. Giles to give lectures in the suburbs of New York 
 and outlying towns. To combine the changes of car, stage, and ferry 
 was not always easy in that city of great distances. The accidents 
 which ensue might occur to any one at any time, but they are chiefly 
 interesting because of Mr. Giles's attitude of mind toward them. 
 
 The following is dated December 2, 1867: 
 
 I had a very hard day's work yesterday and did not accomplish any- 
 thing. In the first place, my sermon was a failure. Then I attended 
 the funeral of a little child and, of course, came home very tired. I 
 had agreed to lecture in Newark in the evening and I reached the ferry 
 about a minute too late. I ran from the Park down to the foot of Court- 
 land Street, and when I found that the boat was gone I was very much 
 disappointed. Another train left in an hour, however, and I deter- 
 mined to remain and take that, though it would land me in Newark half 
 
 -4 235 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 an hour after the time for the meeting, but I thought the audience might 
 possibly wait, thinking that I would come on that train. As this was a 
 Sunday train, bound for Washington, I could not buy a ticket for 
 Newark, and I could not go into the inclosure where the cars were 
 without a ticket. But I managed to get in without being seen and 
 sat in a cold car nearly an hour. The conductor took my money and 
 said not a word. When I reached Newark I did not know which way 
 to go. I soon found I had half a mile to walk. I walked and ran as 
 fast as I could, and when I reached the hall I found it shut and dark. I 
 had taken no money with me except just enough to get there and back. 
 I did not feel able to walk to Mr. G. W. S's, so I inquired the way to 
 a Mr. S's, whose child I had baptized, and there I received a very 
 cordial welcome, a glass of wine, and some oysters. I learned from 
 them that the hall was crowded with a very intelligent-looking congre- 
 gation. This, of course, added to my disappointment. It was the first 
 of a course of six lectures and great pains had been taken to advertise 
 it. I suppose some evil is to be prevented or some good done, and I 
 submit, though, I am afraid, with a poorer grace than usual. 
 
 Life in the cosmopolitan city of New York stretched out in many 
 directions and very unexpected demands were made upon the time of 
 a minister residing there. Friends from other parts of the country 
 would ask Mr. Giles " just to step into Wall Street and purchase stock 
 for them," ignorant of the fact that the seat of operations was three 
 miles from his home. 
 
 Then there were the impostors, whose names were legion. For some 
 reason they, according to their own accounts, usually came from Bos- 
 ton. Through misfortunes they were temporarily out of money. They 
 knew Rev. Thomas Worcester, Mr. Sampson Reed, Mr. David L. 
 Webster, and other prominent New Churchmen of the Hub. They only 
 wanted a loan, just enough to pay their fares; the money would cer- 
 tainly be returned on their arrival, etc. 
 
 There was an Indian princess who frequently called. She was a 
 very picturesque figure — by no means an impostor — clad in full 
 Indian costume of brilliant colors and elaborately embroidered with 
 beads. She was a royal member of the tribe of Seminoles, in deep dis- 
 tress, the nature of which, as it was confidential, we did not know. 
 
 Many were the couples who came to Mr. Giles's study to be married. 
 
 -4 236 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1864^1870 
 
 Besides these more or less legitimate interruptions, there were the ex- 
 asperatingly trivial ones — people who wanted to sell things, people 
 who came to call and talked a long time about nothing, when perhaps 
 a sermon was under progress or the Messenger was waiting for copy. 
 Sometimes the calls were of great interest, as once when the manager 
 of the Olympic Theatre came to ask Mr. Giles to baptize a son of Joseph 
 Jefferson's. Mr. Giles was very glad to make the acquaintance of the 
 distinguished actor. He found he was indeed a true New Churchman 
 and very much enjoyed the visit to his home. Years later the writer 
 met Mr. Jefferson and he expressed his warm admiration for Mr. 
 Giles's writings and his respect for his character. 
 
 In the autumn of 1867 certain lay teachers were licensed, with the 
 approval of tlie executive board, to lecture in the suburbs and adjacent 
 cities of New York. It was thought well, in view of the lack of minis- 
 ters, to have some one to follow up the clergyman's lecture, also to act 
 as an occasional substitute for the minister. 
 
 A year later Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 We are working about as hard as we can to get things moving in New 
 York. Our meetings are well attended and the attention is good. Our 
 lay-lecturers are beginning to fuul tliat lecturing is not all play. We 
 are trying to do too much, but I have learned that the only way to teach 
 grown people as well as children the evil of it is to let them see it. 
 
 He certainly was busy on his own account. March 6tli, 1868, he 
 says: 
 
 I am delivering three discourses a week and I am getting a volume 
 of sermons ready for the press and I have another juvenile nearly com- 
 pleted. These, with a large number of other things, keep me out of 
 mischief. 
 
 In 1868 the Children s Magazine was transferred to New York with 
 Mr. Giles as editor. 
 
 Mention has already been made of Uie publication of one of Mr. 
 Giles's juveniles, — "The Wonderful Pocket." "The Magic Spec- 
 tacles" appeared not long afterwards, and in December, 1868, "The 
 Gate of Pearl " was published. 
 
 Tlie usual work of the Cliurch was carried on widi active interest by 
 
 -•ifif 237 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 its members. A mission Sunday school was begun with a large num- 
 ber of pupils. Never was tlie society in a more flourishing condition. 
 
 In 1869 Mr. Giles was made president of the New Church Tract 
 Society. About Uiis time, too, the Messenger was conducted by an 
 Editorial Board, consisting of Rev. Mr. Ager, Rev. Mr. Hayden, Mr. 
 Scammon, Mr. Hitchcock, and Mr. Giles. There are many matters of 
 interest concerning all the New Church periodicals in tliis long letter to 
 Mr. Williams: 
 
 New York, March 23, 1870. 
 
 I think there ought to be some changes in our periodicals. I have 
 long advocated the conversion of the Magazine into a quarterly and the 
 appointment of Mr. Hayden as editor. But die idea has met with no 
 favor. It is said a quarterly would not be taken by any one except min- 
 isters and a few of the more literary members of the church, and there 
 is some truth in the assertion. The Boston people think it should be 
 retained as a monthly but have an editor, pay contributors as honest 
 journals do, and make it more of a literary and family magazine. I 
 think this would be a good idea if it could be carried out. But it will 
 take money and that the New Church people are very slow to put into 
 their periodicals. 
 
 Great fault is found with the Messenger because it is not ecclesi- 
 astical enough and does not teach as fully as it should the doctrines of 
 the church as revealed truth and does not refer enough to Swedenborg 
 as "authority." Mr. Hibbard and Mr. Sewall are the only ones who 
 personally have found much fault with us on that score, but they say 
 there is great dissatisfaction in that respect. Mr. Hitchcock, as every 
 one knows, is now virtually the editor, though Mr. Ager and I meet 
 with him every Monday morning to look over the material for the next 
 paper, and when anything is handed in of which we do not approve we 
 rule it out. We have spent a large amoimt of work upon it the last 
 year. We have done about as well as we could and the result is before 
 the Church. 
 
 Now if any way can be devised to do better, I should like to have it 
 done, and it would please me to be free from the burden and responsi- 
 bility of the paper entirely. I have occupied an anomalous and un- 
 pleasant position on it from the first, assuming or having put upon me 
 
 -4 238 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1864-1870 
 
 a considerable degree of responsibility without much opportunity to 
 direct the paper. 
 
 I hardly know what ought to be done with the Children's Magazine, 
 — perhaps given up. There is such strong competition in children's 
 magazines that it is difficult for ours to maintain its place and in any 
 way compete with the capital and skill of other publishers. If we 
 should advertise as largely as other papers do it would not help us 
 much. A little that is distinctively New Church would kill it all. In- 
 stead of trying to adapt it to outsiders, my own opinion is that it is 
 better to make it clearly New Church, and an instrument of initiating 
 our children into the doctrines and forms of diought peculiar to the 
 New Church. This will keep its circulation quite limited, but it will 
 do the work such a magazine ought to do; and if it had ever so large 
 a circulation and failed in that it would be a total failure. 
 
 -4 239 jg--
 
 A 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 New York Pastorate, 1870-1874 
 
 FAMILY event of great interest occurred on June 1st, 1870. Mr. 
 Giles's eldest son, Warren, was married in tlie Thirty-fiftli Street Church 
 to Miss Mary Ella Bennett of New York. The ladies of the congrega- 
 tion took great interest in the occasion and decorated the church most 
 beautifully with flowers. 
 
 In July the family went for the summer to Poultney, Vermont, a 
 small village not far from Rutland and near the boundary line between 
 New York and Vermont. The house in which they stayed, a large 
 building at the head of the village street, was used by the Methodists 
 as a boarding school for girls in the winter. There were spacious 
 grounds about it. Under the trees of a maple grove a croquet set was 
 laid out, and here my father and others found agreeable exercise and 
 enjoyed the fresh, pure air. 
 
 Dr. Newman, a Christian gentleman of the Methodist faith, was at 
 the head of the establishment. Prayers were held daily, morning and 
 evening, and occasionally Mr. Giles was asked to preach. My sister 
 writes of one such occasion: 
 
 Sunday was a rainy, disagreeable day. Father preached in the 
 afternoon; subject, "Salvation by Faith." I never heard Father speak 
 better. At tlie close of the discourse Dr. R. asked permission to make 
 a few remarks. We all wondered what was coming, rather expecting 
 a denunciation of the doctrines presented. He began by giving his 
 " religious experience," and, after telling his doubts and anxieties, he 
 said he had always Uiought of God as a stern, implacable Being, angry 
 with the wicked, and that the prayers of sinners were an abomination 
 in His sight, but that since coming here his views had changed, thanks 
 to the books read and conversations with this servant of the Lord (allud- 
 ing to Father). He could now return to his work with renewed strength 
 and would do all in his power to teach the beautiful doctrines he had 
 
 -'4_ 240 ^-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1870-1874 
 
 learned. Was it not a remarkable confession for a minister to make, 
 very gratifying to all the New Church people here, especially Father? 
 
 Mr. Giles also mentions this. He says: 
 
 After Dr. R. sat down I made a few remarks, and we sang "Jesus, 
 Lover of my Soul." As soon as the benediction was pronounced a 
 number gatliered around me and we talked until the tea bell rang the 
 second time, and then they seemed so reluctant to leave that we talked 
 some time longer. 
 
 In the evening I had a long conversation with Dr. Newman. He said 
 we had done much that was worth while here to interest people in our 
 faith and to change their opinions concerning it. 
 
 Such indications of use to the Church, even during his periods of 
 recreation, were very encouraging. Poultney days were always remem- 
 bered with pleasure by the family. Because Mr. Giles was there, many 
 of his parishioners from Cincinnati, who had come East to escape the 
 heat, and friends from other places, would stop for a few days' visit. 
 
 In January, 1871, Mr. Giles began the series of lectures afterwards 
 collected in the little book, "Our Children in the Other Life." New 
 York days were certainly as busy as those of Cincinnati. Besides his 
 Messenger work and that on the Children s Magazine, with the many 
 visits to the Book Room whicli both entailed, Mr. Giles preached three 
 times every Sunday: in New York, morning and evening, and in Jersey 
 City in the afternoon. The interest in the Church grew steadily in Jer- 
 sey City and eventually a society was formed there. Mr. Giles was 
 chosen to be its president. 
 
 Even though successful, missionary work and other uses for the 
 Church at large were not entirely approved by every one. There were 
 those who thought Mr. Giles should confine his work more exclusively 
 to the society, visit the people more, etc. Several meetings were held 
 in which these matters were discussed, and while it was proposed that 
 Mr. Giles should devote his whole time to the New York pastorate, there 
 was much deliberation but no definite decision. 
 
 Mr. Giles observes in his diary: 
 
 The meetings to jiromole efficiency do not seem to have amounted to 
 much. Many persons think tliere is a covert movement to drive me 
 away from New York. • 
 
 -4 241 }3#-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Then, in February, 1871, came a letter from Mr. Hitchcock, in which 
 he addressed Mr. Giles as "Sir," and curtly requested his resignation 
 as pastor of the society. To imderstand the full force of this blow, 
 for it was a severe one, it must be recalled that it was chiefly through 
 Mr. Hitchcock's friendly offices that Mr. Giles had come to New York; 
 that Mr. Hitchcock had been untiring in his acts of kindness during 
 the earlier years of the life in that city, and that he and my father had 
 been actively associated together in the very work on the Messenger 
 which he now wished Mr. Giles to abandon. Mr. Hitchcock admitted 
 that it was through his influence that the recent meetings of the society 
 had been held. The diary records: 
 
 This letter was the most stunning blow I ever received, not from any 
 fear of resignation but for its animus. Several gentlemen called to-day 
 and talked over the crisis with me. The decision is to read the letter 
 at church to-morrow. There were many offers to stand by me with 
 money and influence. 
 
 It has been a most uncomfortable day. It is a new sensation to feel 
 one has an enemy. 
 
 The letter was read and received with a storm of indignant protest. 
 Father writes: 
 
 Oh, the misery of contention! There is great excitement in the 
 society, and we are truly passing through a crisis which I have no 
 doubt will, in the end, result in good to the church. 
 
 So far I seem to be wonderfully guided to pursue the right course. 
 It is something new to me to have such a commotion. I shall try to do 
 what is right and I am sure I shall be protected. 
 
 At the meeting to discuss the subject none of my family was present. 
 
 The people sustained me unanimously. No minister was ever more 
 vigorously and cordially upheld and no man was ever more emphati- 
 cally condemned tlian Mr. Hitchcock. I suppose the result will be a 
 breach in the society, but those who go away will be a very small por- 
 tion of the whole. I feel as though I had been guided by the Divine 
 Providence in this matter throughout. This conflict is the first great 
 trial of the kind I have ever had and I suppose it is for my good in 
 
 -4 242 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1870-1874 
 
 some way. I must try to make the most good out of it for the church 
 and for myself. 
 
 Upon learning that Mr. Hitchcock took exception to the reading of 
 his letter in public, Mr. Giles wrote the following: 
 
 In your communication to the society, which I did not see until last 
 week, you attribute my reading your letter to the church on Sunday 
 morning to personal hostility to you. I do not see how you could 
 come to such a conclusion. But whatever may have been your reasons, 
 I assure you you have entirely mistaken my motives. I have never 
 had any personal hostility to you and I have none now. 
 
 I read your letter, because in it you requested me to take a step which 
 must affect in some way every person who attends our church. No 
 thought or feeling of hostility to you or to any one else entered my 
 mind. I only wanted to bring the subject before those whom it con- 
 cerned in such a manner that every one might know the issues involved 
 in it, and with perfect willingness to abide by the clearly expressed wish 
 of the people, whatever it might be. Whether the act itself was a mis- 
 take or not is a fair subject for criticism. If it was a mistake, which 
 I by no means admit, it was an error of judgment and not of intention. 
 
 This is the first time in a ministry of nearly twenty years that I have 
 had any difficulty with any member of the societies which I have served. 
 I have always aimed to keep personal considerations subordinate to the 
 good of the Church and I have never known that I had a personal 
 enemy. 
 
 If I know anything of myself, it is the main purpose of my life to 
 do what I can to build up the Lord's kingdom upon the earth, and I 
 think I am willing to work in the way in which, in my own judgment 
 and in that of my brethren, I can be the most useful. I have no feel- 
 ings of hostility towards any one, much less towards you, from whom 
 I have received many acts of kindness which I shall never forget. If 
 I thought my resignation as pastor of the society would promote its 
 efficiency and usefulness, no inducement could prevail upon me to re- 
 main; on the other hand, I should be ecjually determined in my duty not 
 to desert my post until I saw that it was best for the Church to do so. 
 
 -'<i 243 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I have written tliis letter for the purpose of correcting what I know 
 to be a misapprehension on your part of my motives in reading your 
 letter in the time and place I did, and of removing, as far as possible, 
 any hindrance to our working together as heretofore for tliat cause 
 which I am sure we botli have at heart. 
 
 Tlius for a time was a settlement made, but though his friends drew 
 closer and a vote was taken to increase Mr. Giles's salary, payments 
 were very irregular. For several winters the family income was eked 
 out by taking boarders. Of course the most rigid economy was 
 practised. 
 
 My parents' faith in the Lord's loving Providence never wavered. 
 Notwithstanding all his trials, my father could truly say: 
 
 I am thankful every day that the Lord has led me into my profession; 
 I would not exchange it for any other. I am sure I am performing a 
 greater use in it than I could in any other and I am content so far. 
 My only regret is that I have done so little and that I shall leave this 
 world with only a small part of tlie work done which I might have 
 accomplished. But I have done something, and I will try to be content 
 to do what more I can in the few years at the most in which I shall 
 remain on the earth. 
 
 As summer approached, the family went again to Poultney, Vermont. 
 On the Fourth of July, 1871, my youngest brother, William, met with 
 a very serious accident. He was bending over a toy cannon, in the act 
 of loading it from an open powder horn before him, when a playmate 
 threw a lighted firecracker which accidentally dropped into the ]3owder. 
 My poor brother was sent into the air by the explosion, and his face 
 so badly burned that for days we did not know whether he could ever 
 see again. Fortunately, there lived in Poultney a man who had served 
 as a surgeon in the Civil War. Having had much experience with this 
 sort of thing, his unremitting care was invaluable. It was a memorable 
 day when, as a little light was let into his darkened chamber, we first 
 heard the little fellow's cry, " I can see! I can see! " Father, who had 
 been called away on church business, writes: 
 
 I am so glad to hear that Willie continues to improve, but he must be 
 very careful not to use his eyes too much. They will probably be weak 
 
 -4 244 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1870-1874 
 
 for some time. I have felt so anxious about him. Dear little fellow! 
 I could not bear the thought of his being blind, and yet, worse things 
 might happen. 
 
 I have had many anxieties about my children. The troubles which 
 never came have been the hardest to bear. There are fears about their 
 health, and about accidents, and danger, and troubles which may never 
 come. It came over me some time ago, in a way that it never had done 
 before, that I ought not to regard them so exclusively as mine. They 
 are the Lord's, given in trust. 
 
 At the Convention of 1871 Rev. J. C. Ager was appointed editor-in- 
 chief of the Messenger, under an Editorial Committee, consisting of 
 Mr. Giles, Mr. Scammon, Mr. Webster, Mr. Wayne, and Rev. William 
 B. Hayden. The committee was to have charge of the business of 
 publication in New York, with power to remove the paper to Chicago 
 or elsewhere if it seemed best. On November 15th of that year Mr. 
 Ager resigned as editor and Mr. Giles was given the direction, with an 
 assistant. The assistant received a salary; Mr. Giles's services were 
 gratuitous. 
 
 In January, 1872, there was a meeting of the Board of Publications 
 in New York. Mr. Shoemaker, representing the firm of J. B. Lippin- 
 cott & Co., met with them in conference. The expediency of publica- 
 tion through the regular channels of trade was considered. " The 
 maintenance of the periodicals of Convention, all of which have been 
 published at considerable loss, was one of the chief topics of discussion." 
 
 It was finally agreed to retain the Messenger as the only organ 
 for which the Convention is responsible. Mr. Giles was continued in 
 charge of tlie paper until the meeting of Convention, with power 
 to employ such assistance as he might deem best. 
 
 In the summer of 1872 Mr. Giles was invited by Mr. J. Y. Scammon, 
 the vice president of the Convention, to go to Chicago and preach in 
 various churches hired for the purpose. 
 
 Mr. Scammon was one of the pioneers of Chicago, and came to that 
 city from Maine in 1835. The first Convention in Chicago was held 
 at his invitation. He took an active part in redrafting its constitution, 
 and made it more like a legal document. For twenty years he was one 
 of the controlling spirits of the organization. He helped to make it in 
 fact, as in name, a General Convention. He was its vice president from 
 1862 to 1875. 
 
 -^ 245 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Mr. Scammon was a man of strong convictions but could accept the 
 will of the majority when it was against him. He was one of Chicago's 
 most prominent and useful citizens, a leading lawyer of sterling integ- 
 rity, a pioneer of the railroad system of Illinois, an advocate of sound 
 currency, a politician and journalist of wide influence, a scholar of re- 
 fined and great attainments, and probably more than all others instru- 
 mental in securing to Illinois its public school system. He was the 
 founder of the Academy of Sciences and of the Astronomical Society. 
 He built the Dearborn Observatory, was trustee of the Chicago Univer- 
 sity and founder of one of its professorships. He was also a founder 
 and a trustee of the Hahnemann College and Hospital. He died in 
 May, 1890. 
 
 In inviting Mr. Giles to Chicago for the summer, Mr. Scammon, who 
 was warmly attached to my father, had a project in mind which is out- 
 lined as follows: The subject of removing the Messenger to Chicago 
 was under consideration and a proposition was made to Mr. Giles to 
 edit the paper. By this plan Mr. Giles was to have no charge of a 
 society, but would preach occasionally, when he was needed. For all 
 the work he was to have adequate compensation. 
 
 Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 Now it seems to me that the Lord has prepared the way for me to 
 act. After I go home and our friends have returned, I propose to lay the 
 whole question of my relations to the New York Society before it, and 
 its members shall decide the question for me. I shall propose to give 
 up my connection with the Messenger and devote myself to the work 
 of the society in New York, or keep it and give up a part of my salary 
 as minister and let them give me an assistant. My salary is to be made 
 up by payment of my services as editor, or, if there is not a strong and 
 hearty endorsement of this course, I will resign and come here. The 
 whole subject must be placed fully before the society without any pas- 
 sion or desire to have any action taken that is not deliberate and which 
 has not its origin in good feeling. On my part it shall be taken with 
 a sincere desire to be led by the Lord, and if I can keep in that frame 
 of mind I am sure we shall do that which will be the best for all of us. 
 
 You will understand that notliing has been decided. I feel more 
 pleased witli this because it is not a matter of my seeking. On the con- 
 trary, I have opposed the Messenger's coming here, and it was through 
 
 -"sg{ 246 ^'-
 
 
 i 
 
 
 Ml!. AM) Miis. i;iLt;s 
 
 Abnut 1873 
 During New York Pastorale
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1870-1874 
 
 my instrumentality that its removal was prevented a year ago. I took 
 the editorship of it because it seemed clearly my duty to do it. I came 
 here this summer because " I believed in my bones " that I ought to 
 come, without any knowledge that such a proposition was to be made 
 to me. So I am sure there has been no self-seeking in the matter, and 
 I feel much more confident, therefore, that I have been led by the 
 Divine Providence, and I am sure that is the best kind of leading. 
 
 The meeting of the Board was held and it was then decided that " the 
 Book Room and Messenger are to remain in New York until December 
 15tli, and then they are to be removed to such place as the executive 
 committee of our Board may decide, unless the people in New York and 
 the East contribute their share of the fifty thousand dollar fund, and in 
 that way succeed in placing the work in New York on a permanent foot- 
 ing. So it stands now." 
 
 As the Messenger was not removed from New York, nor the plans out- 
 lined carried out, the family remained in New York for several years 
 longer. 
 
 In December, 1872, Mr. Giles received a letter from Mr. Meday, 
 president of the New York Society, which clearly defined the position 
 of that body. To this he made reply: 
 
 New York, January 1, 1873. 
 
 Your note, informing me of the action and opinions of the trustees 
 and Church Committee, was duly received. I thank you for your frank- 
 ness in stating their sentiments. It may be that one cause of the slow 
 growth of the society is a want of more personal intercourse on ray part 
 and more special attention to the requirements of individual members 
 of the society and congregation. But there are many other causes 
 which have been operating adversely to the growth of the society which 
 must be taken into account in framing a just estimate of our hindrances. 
 I should be very glad to know, however, that there is only one and that 
 it is solely with me. In any event, I will do all I can during the coming 
 year to remedy the defects in my own work and to remove all jn^;t cause 
 of complaint on that account. 
 
 I have only one principal aim in life and that is to do all I can for the 
 dissemination of the doctrines of the New Church and to lead men to 
 
 ~4 247 }3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 live according to Uiem, and diough I fall short every day of what I aim 
 to do, I endeavor to keep trying. 
 
 I am sure that there is a brighter day for the New Church coming. 
 It may not be so near as it seems to me to be. But the more remote it 
 is the more need of patience and hard work, and I am willing to accept 
 my share of both. 
 
 Middletown, New York, was decided upon for the family's summer 
 outing in 1873. Father writes from New York to one of the family 
 who was visiting elsewhere: 
 
 I went to Middletown last Saturday and came back Monday night 
 to attend tlie funeral of Mr. Hamilton Hoyt, and now I shall remain 
 until I can get your mother to go with me, which I hope will be Friday. 
 If this hot weather continues you may expect to see me " sitting in my 
 bones " when you come home. The " taking off of the flesh " by evap- 
 oration is going on at a very rapid rate. 
 
 You would be amused to see how we — your mother and I — manage 
 at table. It is such a weary task to carve. You know what an enor- 
 mous meat eater your good mother is. We have been at work at a 
 lamb chop for two days; I have no idea how many more it will last. 
 One blackberry (perhaps it was a quart) has served us since as long 
 as I can remember. If things continue in this way I intend to get a 
 microscope so that I may see to carve. If you discover anything vola- 
 tile in this letter you must attribute it to the weather. Your mother and 
 I, all that 's left of us, are well, and so were the family at Middletown 
 when I last saw them. It is entirely contrary to my principles to write 
 across the page in this way, but who can have any principles this hot 
 weather? 
 
 Another letter, written from New York the same siunmer, shows that 
 " a little nonsense now and then " appeals to even the most serious- 
 minded. 
 
 August 17, 1873. 
 I remained because Mr. Meday is in such haste about the accoimts 
 that I told him I would stay here until the work was done. By Saturday 
 
 -4 248 Jge-.-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1870-1874 
 
 I had progressed so that I could see through it and I think we can make 
 everytliing square to a cent. 
 
 On waking in the morning the question confronted me, " How shall 
 I spend the day? " Fortunately the recollection of our trip to Far 
 Rockaway occurred to me and I resolved that I would get a bit of fresh 
 air in that quiet and lovely spot. So, afther ating me breakfast, I 
 quietly wended me way to the foot of Twinty-thurd — I do belave it 
 was Thirty-fourth now — me mimory is forsaking me intirely. I was 
 jist in time to cross on the last boat, so Pat and Biddy and I bought an 
 excursion ticket for siventy-five cints, and chape enough it was at that, 
 an' took our places in one of the iligent cars on the Long Island 
 Railroad. 
 
 It was very hot and the cars were crowded, and the shwate exhala- 
 tions from so many clane and well-dressed gurls and boiys, frish from 
 the tiniment houses, would have been quite overpowering if tliere had 
 not been a fresh breeze. We held shwate converse with each other while 
 the cars whirled us away to our distination. Before we were aware of 
 it, we were fuminst the daypot in the lovely grove at Rockaway. 
 
 We all rushed out and hurried away to the coast. There was a 
 great crowd. We waded perseveringly through the sand until we 
 reached the beach. Ould ocean, that same which bates upon the shore 
 of ould Ireland, greeted us with a roar and sint wave afther wave to 
 shake hands wid us and invite us to his embrace. We were not long in 
 accepting his invitation. We rushed to the bathing houses, though why 
 they are called bathing houses I cannot well imagine, for nobody bathes 
 in them. Pat and Bridget came out, the two of them quite different 
 from whin they wint in, and just alike, saving Biddy's hair was a little 
 longer. Pat kicked up his heels and, with sundry leaps, put his fate and 
 himself intirely into tlie wather, while Biddy lingered on the shore and 
 coquetted with the waves as they came up to invite her to a frolic. Pat, 
 the broth of a boiy, came, shaking himself like a great Ne\vfoundland 
 dog, and seizing lur by tiir arm, away wint the two of them. A big 
 roller dashed them bolh down and tumbled them about promiscuously. 
 I am shure Biddy would have scramed a little dilicale. Irish scrame, 
 but the ocean clapped his hand upon her mouth and stopped it. Whin 
 
 — «( 249 }?►-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 she regained her fate she tried hard to get back to the shore, but Pat 
 was not at all inclined to be deserted. We soon got used to it and then 
 we did have a jolly time of it, I standing on the shore and Pat and Biddy 
 disporting tliemselves with the yeasty waves for my amusement. 
 
 The beach was lined with just sich, and the say looked as though it 
 was full of sandy-haired and blue-eyed porpoises. There was, of course, 
 some diversity. One Patrick, went up to a Biddy — it wasn't my 
 Biddy — who was holding onto the rope, the timid crathure, as tliough 
 she was afraid of the wather. The big spalpeen tried to gintly per- 
 suade her to let go and trust to him. She half consinted and, letting 
 go for a moment, she gave him a tremendous slap in the face with her 
 wet hand which sint him about his business. Another fair damsel next 
 to her, but with much more padding on her ribs, had fastened her bath- 
 ing suit very closely imder her arms, making it quite short-waisted. 
 Her drawers were rather short-waisted in the other direction, which left 
 quite an extent of territory covered with a loose, flowing tunic, like a 
 short dressing gown. Whetlier she desjjised the waves or was afraid to 
 face them, I do not know. At all events, she turned her back upon them, 
 and when one came up it washed her upper garment over her shoulders 
 and left her dress a little short of the regulation pattern, exposing a 
 large surface of back, much to the amusement of the gintlemin and 
 ladies on the beach. There were many other little incidents which 
 served to break up tlie monotony of those of us who did our bathing 
 on dry land. 
 
 About one o'clock I foimd an appetite and I went to the Ocean House 
 to get something to fit it, but I saw nothing but whiskey and billiard 
 balls. Then I went to a new house, — "The Grand Central" (hum- 
 bug). I saw a vacant chair on the piazza which I was about to occupy, 
 when I was informed that a lady had just left it. Of course I was glad 
 she had left it, for I should not have tliought of occupying it if she had 
 not. I was so much surprised by the fact that a lady had left it that I 
 stood in speechless wonder, surveying the premises and pondering upon 
 the singular fact that a lady should leave a chair just when I wanted it. 
 But while engaged in my reflections, a fair daughter of Erin came and 
 plumped herself down in it. Whether she was the one who left it or 
 
 -=*•{ 250 ^-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1870-1874 
 
 not was of no consequence. I lost all interest in the matter and wan- 
 dered away until I found anotlier place in a restaurant. There I pro- 
 cured a luncheon at the cost — ^the whole of it — of forty -one cents. 
 Then I took another look at old Ocean and the lovely sirens who were 
 disporting tliemselves in his waves. I was much struck with the famil- 
 iarity of many of the maidens with water. They moved their hands 
 and bodies up and down as though they tliought the ocean a great wash- 
 tub. I sat in the sand and watched the bathers and the breakers, and 
 inhaled strength and pleasure with every breath. 
 
 But the most delightful day will have a close. I knew there would 
 be a grand rush for die train, so I left in good season, quietly seated 
 myself in a car and read the Evangelist. Pat and Biddy arrived just 
 in time to get a good place to stand up, so we returned, reaching New 
 York a little after seven o'clock. Margaret got me a cup of tea and, 
 after reading a while and reflecting upon the pleasures of the day that 's, 
 alas! past and gone, I went to bed and dreamed of — ah — excuse me. 
 Dreams are so strange I think I will not relate mine, but you will be 
 pleased to know that I feel much better to-day. 
 
 William Giles, the youngest of the family, was taken with malarial 
 fever during the latter part of the summer. After nursing him to re- 
 covery, my sister Lucy was taken ill with the same disease. She came 
 down witli tlie fever only a few days before that set for my marriage to 
 Mr. James Richard Carter of Boston. There was some talk of post- 
 poning the wedding, but on many accounts it did not seem best, so on 
 October 15th, at eight o'clock in the evening, we were quietly married 
 in the Thirty-fifth Street Church, with only members of the family to 
 greet us afterwards. At that time our home was at 143 East Thirty- 
 fifth Street, a pleasant house next door to an Episcopal Church on Uie 
 corner of Lexington Avenue. My sister's illness was very tedious, and 
 it was many weeks before she entirely recovered. 
 
 In January, 1874, Mr. Giles visited Boston, Bridgewater, Saloni, and 
 other places, delivering a highly successful lecture. Of this he says: 
 
 It was voted to send it to every minister, priest, and rabbi in our 
 Association, which, you may not know, embraces die states of Connecti- 
 cut, New York, and New Jersey. This will give us work to do for some 
 
 -4 251 }a^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 time. I hope other associations will follow suit. It is thought by our 
 people that the discourse will be a good introduction to the subject of 
 the New Church and a good method of calling the attention of the 
 clergy to the offer of Mr. lungerich to send them the " True Christian 
 Religion." 
 
 March 20th, 1874, Mrs. Giles writes: 
 
 Your dear father has worked very hard this winter. The more he 
 does the more he seems to have the capacity for doing. I think he so 
 thoroughly believes all he says that he derives real strength from every 
 utterance of it. The demands upon his time by calls and in reply to 
 letters has been enough to weary and exhaust. He meets tliem with 
 such sympathy and trust in tlie good Providence of our Heavenly 
 Father that he seems in a sphere of peace which is very beautiful and 
 restful. Each day, as the opportunity comes, he improves the time, en- 
 couraging, leading and guiding to a better life. 
 
 That fatigue after his great activities sometimes brought him down 
 from the heights of peace is evident in the following: 
 
 It does seem so hard to interest any one in anything higher than a 
 merely natural life that I do get discouraged sometimes and wish I were 
 a woodchopper, or — no, I don't wish it. But I am so tired that the 
 whole society seems to hang like a dead weight upon me. Sometimes 
 the burden is too great. It has seemed to me lately that the old idea of 
 heaven as a state of rest was a particularly attractive one and that I 
 should like to try it for a little while. But I know that I should be more 
 tired of that than I am of my burdens now. 
 
 I do feel, in some respects, an increase of insight and power, and 
 if I do not break down I believe I shall yet do something better than 
 anything I have done. The world of truth opens so wonderfully some- 
 times that I catch glimpses of the possibilities of our natures, and I 
 seem to be reaching after a clear conception of them, so that I can state 
 them in distinct fonn. But this is hard work. Perhaps I ought not to 
 do it. 
 
 ~'^ 252 ^.-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1870-1874 
 
 The following describes a brief respite from the daily routine: 
 
 New York, May 28, 1874. 
 
 It is a lovely day; not a cloud, not too hot nor too cold, and your 
 mother and I have been enjoying it. Your mother is getting very 
 wild. She proposed to me last night tliat we should go off to-day 
 " on a spree." She did not use those words but it amounted to the 
 same thing. I cannot tell you how it shocked me, but I did not 
 say much, hoping she would forget it in the morning. But as she 
 made the same proposal, on the whole I thought it best to acquiesce. 
 Accordingly, about ten o'clock we set out. We walked down to 
 Third Avenue and there — perhaps you won't believe it, but it is true 
 — we found two iron rails had been laid down in the middle of the 
 street and a carriage constructed on diem for our use. There was a 
 coachman and a footman to manage the vehicle. They stopped at our 
 approach and politely invited us to get in, which we did, and they drove 
 off. We rode to Fifty-ninth Street and then concluded to go west. By 
 some magic, another carriage came along and took us in the direction 
 we wished to travel. It must have cost a vast sum of money to have 
 made all this preparation for our comfort. 
 
 But we were soon to meet with greater surprises. After riding a few 
 blocks we found a beautiful park, laid out in the most artistic manner 
 and kept in a high state of cultivation for our delight. The smoothest 
 and most lovely roads had been made; green and beautiful lawns 
 stretched away at intervals on either side; shrubs, blossoming with 
 most beautiful flowers, lined the road. Bridges had been built and arti- 
 ficial lakes constructed, and everything which the wit of man could 
 devise had been provided to make our trip pleasant. Again a carriage 
 of a somewhat different form had been provided, and we were politely 
 invited to take seats in it. Fearing, perhaps, that your mother and 
 I would be a little lonely, a party of four ladies, who made th(>msclves 
 very amusing and agreeable, were there to accompany us. 
 
 Well, we enjoyed it very much. I felt in a generous mood and lav- 
 ished my money freely on our servants, and every one seemed to be in 
 a good humor. We returned in the same way, finding at every turn 
 some one ready to serve us. Isn't it wonderful that some unknown 
 
 -4 253 is—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 friends should have done so much for such humble people as we are? 
 There must be some goodness in the world, surely. 
 
 The following letter was given to me by an old lady of eighty. For 
 many years she had treasured it as a solace and comfort, and when she 
 thought she had not long to live she sent it to me, that I too might prize 
 it. Since it came into my possession, copies of it have many times been 
 loaned or given to friends in affliction. It has comforted many sad 
 hearts. 
 
 " My Precious Letter from my Pastor, Rev. C. Giles " 
 
 Boston, July 27, 1874. 
 
 I have heard from Lucy, with much pain, of the great calamity which 
 has fallen upon you, and I sincerely wish it were in my power to do 
 something to assuage the bitterness of your sorrow or to help you bear 
 it. But we cannot do much. I never feel so helpless as when trying 
 to comfort those who mourn. There is only one Comforter who 
 knows every secret spring of affection within us, who knows how we 
 suffer and how to apply the healing balm. He does know and He has 
 invited us to cast every burden of sorrow upon Him. He feels for us 
 more deeply than any human friend can and He is ready to do all in 
 His infinite power and love to assuage our sorrow and to bring the 
 greatest possible good out of it. And we must try to remember what 
 our doctrines so clearly teach us, that the Lord never permits us to 
 suffer any trouble, or any affliction to come upon us, unless it is in 
 some way for our good or for the prevention of some evil greater than 
 the one He permits. If you could see the full bearings of this sudden 
 removal of your son from the natural to the spiritual world, in all their 
 influences upon you and upon him, and upon your whole family, you 
 would not wish to have it otherwise. Terrible as the blow is to your 
 mother's heart, you would say, " Let it come, for there is a blessing 
 in it." 
 
 I know how hard it is to feel this ; I know we cannot see it when our 
 eyes are blinded with tears. But we may know that it is true, because 
 the Lord has said it. And this should be our comfort, and it will, if 
 we try to think of it in this way. If you could see your beautiful boy as 
 
 -^ 254 ^~
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1870-1874 
 
 he rises into the other life and is led by wiser teachers than any upon 
 earth, into those relations and pursuits which are the best adapted to 
 make a pure, noble, and angelic man of him, you would see how much 
 better the Lord is doing for him than you could have done, even if you 
 had possessed the wisdom of the world. You would not withdraw him 
 from tlie care of the wise and pure ones to whose care he has been 
 committed and bring him back to labor and suffer, as all must who live 
 in this world, if you could do it by saying " Come." 
 
 I know all these considerations do not immediately heal the wounds 
 of torn and bleeding affections. No wound heals instantaneously. But 
 they do help. They assuage the sorrow; they mitigate its severity and 
 they hasten the healing. 
 
 The natural mind instinctively turns to its loss and it requires much 
 effort to lift it up and direct its attention to the Lord. But we can do 
 it. We can compel ourselves to look to Him and to try to see the bright 
 side of every storm of sorrow. Nothing but this will help us. And this 
 certainly will. The help may not come as soon as we wish it or expect 
 it. But it will come. There is no possibility of failure. Go to Him, 
 through His Word. He will meet you there and through His Word He 
 will comfort and sustain you. 
 
 ■■<i 255 }§.-
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 New York Pastorate, 1875-1877 
 
 J. HE two chief events of 1875 were Mr. Giles's election to the oflice 
 of President of the Convention and his trip to Europe. Of the former 
 Rev. William Worcester writes: 
 
 In 1875, while Mr. Giles was pastor of the New York Society, he 
 was elected President of the General Convention of the New Jerusalem 
 in the United States, succeeding the Rev. Thomas Worcester, and he 
 held die position until his death, a period of eighteen years. In the 
 general body of the church, as in the societies with which he was con- 
 nected, Mr. Giles was a warm supporter of practical uses and a leader 
 in them. The missionary cause was especially dear to him and the 
 printing and publishing of die doctrines. His earnestness in the work 
 of the church, his confidence in the support of the Divine Providence 
 and in the ability of the people to supply the means to do their part, 
 were inspiring and led to substantial results. Mr. Giles's annual ad- 
 dresses as President of the Convention presented in practical ways the 
 principles which should guide the Church in its work. Each address 
 seemed to sound the keynote of the session, and it was a note of har- 
 mony and practical usefulness. His very earnestness that the Church 
 should be at work actively furthering the great uses intrusted to it made 
 Mr. Giles impatient of obstruction, and even of parliamentary forms, 
 when they seemed to retard the uses which he had so much at heart. He 
 recognized this quality in himself as a defect in a presiding officer, and 
 it was his custom of late years to intrust the conduct of the business to 
 the vice president. He thought, however, and probably with truth, that 
 his disregard of rules had been useful to tlie Church in leading to less 
 insistence upon mere technicalities. Mr. Giles's presence always 
 seemed to give deliberations a higher tone, and when he spoke it was 
 
 "4 256 ^»
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 often to lift discussion above minor differences to the more spiritual 
 plane of use, where all could unite. 
 
 It is pleasant to note the following comment on the progress of the 
 society: 
 
 It seems as though we had entered upon an "era of good feeling." 
 I think the society has never been in so good a state as it is now and I 
 believe it will prosper more abundantly than ever. It seems to me as 
 though we had come more into a settled condition and that will be a 
 great help. 
 
 Wednesday, April 17, 1875. 
 
 Every member of a family is to a family what a window is to a house, 
 — a medium for transmitting heavenly light and the still finer and more 
 precious influences of heavenly warmth. I have been thinking what 
 a heaven a home would be if the heavenly life were transmitted by every 
 member of the family without hindrance and perversion, and I have 
 such a longing for the peace and rest which comes from such a life 
 that I can find no words to express it. I have everything to be thankful 
 for, and yet I am so weary sometimes with internal and external con- 
 flicts that I long to retire from all public relations and spend the rest of 
 my days in quiet. But I know that would not be right and I could not 
 get away from myself. 
 
 In tlie winter of 1874-75 Mr. Giles wrote a course of sermons on 
 the Lord's Prayer. These form the basis of the book " Perfect Prayer." 
 He says of them: 
 
 Finished my sermons on the Lord's Prayer. They have awakened 
 some atlcntion, but they have not satisfied me. They seem crude and 
 rough, i tliink il 1 had time to work llicm over they might be much 
 improved. But thai. I suppose, I shall never have. 
 
 In April the society voted to give Mr. Giles a four months' vacation 
 to visit Europe. Life was very busy in tiie interval l)cfore sailing. In 
 May the family moved from 143 East Thirty-fiftli Street, its tliird 
 dwelling place since coming to the city. Tiic furniture was stored, 
 
 -4 257 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 and Mrs. Giles and the children went to Cambridge, New York, for the 
 summer. On May L5th Mr. Giles went to Washington to dedicate the 
 new church of that society. He was assisted in the services by Rev. 
 Mr. Day, Mr. Hunt, and the Rev. Jabez Fox. The building was crowded 
 to its capacity on the occasion, and some had to go home who could 
 not find even standing room. 
 
 On his return to New York, through the kindness of friends he stayed 
 at their home until the time of his sailing. In llie last hurried days 
 before leaving he wrote, by request, an article for the North American 
 Review. Writers from different churches had been asked to unite in 
 a symposium which would give the standpoint of their various denomi- 
 nations. At first Mr. Giles felt that he could not do it, but disliking to 
 neglect an opportunity for making the New Church known, he consented. 
 He wrote to a late hour the night before sailing and felt, because of the 
 enforced haste, much dissatisfaction with the article. To his surprise 
 and pleasure it was well received and copied into an English magazine. 
 
 On June 16th he sailed for Liverpool. The members of the New 
 Church in England were glad to see and hear and know personally one 
 whose writings they so highly valued. Mr. Giles felt very deeply the 
 kindness shown him on this and subsequent visits, and close friendships 
 were formed with his English brethren. Writing home to the Messenger 
 from England, he said: 
 
 I found I was not a stranger. I could not make myself one. They 
 not only took me by the hand but by the heart. I was a friend and a 
 brother and at home. A feeling would sometimes come over me that I 
 must have seen tliem and known them before. I hope the cordiality of 
 my welcome and the impossibility of feeling that I was among strangers 
 may be accoimted for by the great law of spiritual association, accord- 
 ing to which those of a homogeneous nature feel as though tliey had 
 always known one another, when they first meet. I am sure I shall 
 always remember with profound gratitude their kindness and unre- 
 mitting efforts to make my visit a pleasant one. My visit has enlarged 
 the horizon of my thoughts and affections and enriched my mind with 
 many charming scenes and pleasant memories, which will be a comfort 
 and delight during my whole life. 
 
 On his first visit, in 1875, Mr. Giles attended the New Church Con- 
 ference in Manchester, as the official messenger of the Convention, 
 
 -4. 258 }■>-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 and received the kindest hospitality. He found this letter of welcome 
 awaiting him on his arrival: 
 
 Letter to Mr. Giles from Mr. John F. Potts 
 
 RuTHERCLEN, June 25, 1875. 
 
 I have just received your letter, which I was expecting, as I saw the 
 announcement in the Messenger of your intended departure. I am de- 
 lighted to hear of your safe arrival and of your intention to be with us 
 on Monday. I am going to preach at Edinburgh on Simday, but I 
 shall be at home in time to receive you and to meet you at the station 
 in Glasgow on your arrival. I shall avail myself of your kind offer 
 to preach for me on the 4th of July, and shall have you duly annoimced 
 on Sunday. Won't the people stare when they hear that the Rev. 
 Chauncey Giles of New York will preach in this church on Sunday next! 
 I shall announce it at Edinburgh myself, if only for the pleasure of 
 saying it. Glasgow is the best place for seeing Scotland, as it is very 
 central to all places of interest, and you can start from here quite con- 
 veniently for any locality in the country. A large number of day trips 
 can also be made from Glasgow to some of the finest scenery in Scot- 
 land. I shall be very happy to do all in my power to help you in any 
 way you like. 
 
 I don't think I can " prepare " to see you. I expect I shall be taken 
 all aback after the most tremendous preparations. I cannot realize you 
 yet, or that I shall so soon see you. Well, it is very nice to meet some 
 folks. Spiritual presence is all very fine, but I confess to a strong 
 hankering after the ultimate of this condition, in some cases. 
 
 The porridge which is to be honoured by absorption into your mate- 
 rial envelope is already in contpm])Iation. Your bedroom is also being 
 put in readiness, whence you will command a very extensive prospect 
 of smoke. 
 
 Letter to Mr. E. J . Broadfield from C. Giles 
 
 July 3, 1875. 
 
 Your favor of the first I found on my return frnni the Highlands last 
 evening. 
 
 I should like very much to go to Birmingham and I may find time 
 
 -<■{ 259 }>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 to do so on my route to London. If I can stop I will write, as you 
 suggest. 
 
 We have not had very favorable weather for sightseeing since I 
 came here. Indeed it has rained every day but yesterday, and Thurs- 
 day it cleared in the afternoon and we had a view of the Highlands, 
 which I enjoyed very much. I found Mr. Potts and family very well, 
 and I have had long talks widi him about the Church in general and 
 Glasgow in particular. I think he is disposed to do right and has acted 
 with prudence, but I will tell you more about how affairs stand here 
 when I learn more and see you. 
 
 I recall my visit to Manchester with a pleasure which continues to 
 accumulate as I receive new expressions of kind regard. I shall return 
 home to America rich with treasures which can never be taken from me, 
 for they will be laid up in the heaven of a grateful heart. 
 
 I am invited to " a reception of the Associated Churches in London " 
 next week. Wliat can all this mean? 
 
 I go to Edinburgh Monday and there they invite me to preach and 
 attend a reception Monday evening. 
 
 To Mrs. Giles from her Husband 
 
 Keswick, July 8, 1875. 
 
 In some respects Edinburgh is the handsomest and the most interest- 
 ing city I ever saw. The old part of the town shows how people built 
 their houses and lived in olden times better tlian anything I have seen. 
 The houses are eight and nine stories high and in some places they are 
 built around courts, of which we have heard much, but I never had a 
 clear idea of them before. The streets are swarming with people. Sol- 
 diers are mingling with them and, clustered in groups here and there, 
 witli their red coats, present quite a brilliant appearance. I went 
 to the Castle, which has so many historical associations. I went and 
 I went until I was so tired of going and of seeing that I was glad to go 
 to bed. Of course I saw St. Giles's Cathedral and I have a photograph 
 of it. I entered the pulpit, but I did not preach a sermon. It is the 
 handsomest pulpit I ever saw. But more of that another time. 
 
 Yesterday I succeeded in getting away, and it is the first day I have 
 
 -^ 260 ^•-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 been alone and permitted to do as I pleased since I came to this country. 
 I radier enjoyed it. I went to Melrose and visited Melrose Abbey. I 
 shall bring you some photographs of it, which will be much better dian 
 a verbal description. Abbotsford, the residence of Sir Walter Scott, is 
 about three miles from there. I rode out to see it, but it was not a day 
 when visitors were admitted and I could only peep at it through the 
 bars of a gate. I was much disappointed in its location. It is down 
 on the banks of the Tweed, surrounded by hills. I cannot imagine why 
 Scott should build there. The country around is wonderfully beauti- 
 ful, but none of it can be seen from his residence. As you see, I 
 am now at Keswick. It is the most picturesque and beautiful part of 
 England that I have seen. The hills are two or three thousand feet 
 high and they are wonderfully picturesque. Derwent Water, the lake 
 in Keswick, is about the size of some of the ponds in Vermont. I did 
 think of putting it in my pocket and bringing it home, but the English 
 people think so much of it I concluded to let it be. To-morrow I am 
 going to see Wordsworth's home and Saturday I shall go to London. 
 If you knew the amount of walking I have done in the last twenty-four 
 hours you would think I had some powers of locomotion left. You 
 would be amused to see tlie English walk,- — ^men, women, and chil- 
 dren. I never saw anything like it. There were many women out 
 to-day in the wild mountain places we passed. We also saw several 
 companies of men and one company of boys, with tlieir long sticks and 
 bags, rushing along as though they were walking on a wager. 
 
 I am enjoying my trip very well, but I am too old to travel and I 
 am not enough of a talker to make myself interesting to others. I went 
 to-day with a carriage full of people, hut I hardly spoke to any one. 
 I was glad to be silent. It was enough to commune with nature and 
 be still. I thought of you all often, and wished you could be with me, 
 but when I found we had to walk two miles over a steep mountain, so 
 steep that the horses could pull only the wagon over it, I was glad 
 you were not. I am sure you could not have done it. I puffed some 
 but do not feel the worse for it now. Indeed, I shall take a walk as 
 soon as I finish my letter. 
 
 -4 261 }§.•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 To Mr. Broadfield from C. Giles 
 
 Lancaster, July 9, 1875. 
 
 I am here because it rains and I am writing because it rains. I came 
 from Keswick this morning and, much to my disappointment, I could 
 not stop at Rydal Mount on account of the weather, but I had a glorious 
 day yesterday. Isn't the lake scenery beautiful? I have never seen 
 anything like it, nor anything which equalled its variety and pictur- 
 esque beauty. I have brought away with me many a lovely picture 
 which will comfort and bless me when I am thousands of miles away. 
 How I should like to spend a week or more in a quiet and careful ex- 
 amination of the country and wait long enough in one spot for the pic- 
 ture to grow into me and become a part of my being! 
 
 The night I reached Keswick I thought I would walk around Derwent 
 Water; I would surround it and take all its beauties captive, witliout 
 saying " by your leave " to any one. It was after sunset when I set out, 
 and I went on admiring this beautiful glimpse and that glorious view. 
 After a time I found myself with two stone walls on each side of me, 
 and a pretty dense wood besides, but I went on in the hope of soon catch- 
 ing a glimpse of the water. Finally — no, not finally, but gradually — 
 the road was less traveled and did not seem to me to lead in the right 
 direction, but I was sure it must soon turn and so I kept on. It did 
 turn. There was just light enough to see " Thoroughfare six feet wide " 
 in large letters. " Now I have it, I shall soon come to the lake and 
 find my way around it," I thought. But instead of a hospitable way 
 opening to me, I was soon confronted by a closed gate, with the fearful 
 words over it, " Any person found trespassing on these grounds will 
 be prosecuted." I turned back and soon came to another path with the 
 same ominous words, but I had gone so far I could not think of giving 
 up. The road, however, was less trodden and finally I came to the end 
 of it, when there was nothing to do but turn around and go back the 
 way I came. I must have walked six or eight miles, which is nothing 
 to an Englishman, who must be bom walking, but to a poor, footsore, 
 and lame Yankee! Excuse me, but I was revenged the next day! I have 
 the whole lake in my possession and I shall carry it home with me. 
 
 -'■4 262 ^-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 An Account of the Reception in London 
 
 The company had been waiting for us for some time. Tea was 
 served in the schoolroom, which was filled with ladies and gentlemen. 
 The room is large and was filled with tables, at each of which ten or 
 twelve persons could sit. They had the inevitable tea, which is always 
 good, bread and butter, cut very thin, and two kinds of cake. Dur- 
 ing the tea a bowl was passed around into which each put a shilling, 
 which was the price of the tea. 
 
 Afterwards the company adjourned to the auditorium, which is a 
 large and handsome room. Seats had been erected in front of the 
 chancel for those who were to take part in the exercises. Mr. Pres- 
 land, the minister of Argyle Square Church, presided. Dr. Bayley, 
 Mr. Tafel, Dr. Batiman, Mr. Bruce and Gunter, and last, your husband. 
 The exercises were opened by tlie singing of a hymn and a prayer by 
 Mr. Bruce. Mr. Presland stated the purpose of the meeting in a very 
 neat and complimentary speech. Mr. Tafel then read the address of 
 welcome, which you will see. Then I had to stand and reply. When 
 I rose there was a long and tremendous clapping of hands, and I found 
 much difficulty in beginning; but I did make a beginning and an end. 
 I turned the tables of praise upon them by telling how well Mr. Bruce 
 and Dr. Bayley were known in America, and got through tolerably 
 well — that is, I did not make an entire failure of it. 
 
 To Mrs. Giles 
 
 H.\RwicH, England, July 17, 1875. 
 Here I am upon the east coast of England, an involuntary prisoner. 
 I left London yesterday, as I said I should, for Germany. When the 
 steamer put off from the shore she got her wheel fouled with the chain 
 of anchor to another vessel, and she was so much injured by it that 
 she could not go on. So we came ashore and put up at a hotel in which 
 we must wait until this evening. I say " we," and will explain. A 
 gentleman in London by the name of Allen, a New Churchman who 
 has been at our house in New York, was going to Germany last week, 
 but hearing I was to preach in London last Sunday and was tlien 
 
 ~4 263 ^
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 going to Germany, he postponed his visit for the sake of hearing me 
 preach and of going witli me. He understands German, and has a 
 brother-in-law about fifteen miles from Munich whom he is going to 
 visit and I suppose I shall go with him. Isn't it kind of him? I cer- 
 tainly have no occasion to find fault with the people because they do 
 not " make much of me." I never had such attention paid to me in my 
 life, and I never expect to or hope to again. It is really painful some- 
 times, for I feel that I have never done anything to deserve it. I think 
 it will encourage and stimulate me to do more to make myself worthy 
 of esteem. 
 
 The Tafels were very kind to me. Mr. Tafel devoted himself to 
 me every day and Mrs. Tafel did everything she could to make my 
 visit pleasant, even to mending my coat. She is a lovely woman, is 
 a finished musician and a woman of high culture in every respect, and 
 yet she is very practical, attends to all the household affairs, and is 
 just such a wife as Mr. Tafel, who is devoted to his books, needs. There 
 is an innocence about her, too, which is very attractive. They have a 
 very pretty house, with flowers in front and rear of the house. I am 
 much surprised at London in many respects. You cannot form much 
 idea of its size. It would take time for that. It has many magnificent 
 buildings, but the houses are generally only three stories high and they 
 are not so elegant as ours. The stores are generally small, and they are 
 all in the service of Her Majesty or H. R. H. the Prince of Wales, or 
 some prince or princess. They have their arms over the doors and put 
 on airs as though they partook of the royal favor. Tlie whole city is 
 traversed by an imderground railroad which is very convenient and 
 very disagreeable. I have seen no streets yet as crowded as Broadway, 
 but some of them are crowded enough. I have not seen much of the 
 city. I have been more occupied with looking at the people. Wlien 
 I come back I hope to have a more particular view of the city. I shall 
 stay with Dr. Bayley when I return from the continent — but only for 
 a few days. I have agreed to preach for Mr. Presland on the 8th day 
 of August. 
 
 From Germany there are several interesting descriptions, but as the 
 subjects are very familiar to most travelers they have been omitted. 
 
 -^ 264 ^-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 I do not expect to learn much about art or many other things which 
 attract the attention of some people, but I hope to learn something about 
 human life which will be of use to me in my profession and 1 think I 
 have done it already. If I am not greatly mistaken, my journey will 
 be of great use to me as a minister. 
 
 The following whimsical description of the " House in the Wood " 
 belongs here, although the account is written at a later date. 
 
 I tliink you would like to know something about my visit to the 
 Queen of Holland. I reached the palace, which is not a very imposing 
 structure but covers a large space, three minutes before the time, and 
 was informed by the porter, who is an " awfully " tall and portly man, 
 dressed in correct style, that the Queen would not be ready to receive 
 me until ten. He took my parapluie and deposited it in a safe place, 
 and I waited for the Queen to put a few finishing touches to her toilet, 
 I suppose. She was punctual to the time, however, and conducted me 
 llirough the palace. 
 
 When she found I was an American she seemed quite pleased and 
 remarked that an American, Mr. Motley, was the best historian of the 
 Dutch Republic, and she would show me his portrait. She was quite 
 communicative and said she would first show me her dining room, in 
 which she never dines except on state occasions. She begged me not 
 to step on the rug, or, more properly speaking, the " crumbcloth," as it 
 was a very elegant one, presented by the ladies of The Hague. Tt was 
 really quite beautiful and looked as though it was not made to be 
 stepped on. It resembled a magnificent piece of Astrachan cloth, with 
 a border and fringe. Then she showed me her china, — first a large 
 number of pieces arranged one above another in a manner to show to the 
 best advantage. She said they were two hundred years old. Mv ad- 
 miration was two hundred times as great as it would have been if it 
 had i)een of modern |)ro(luction. On the other side of the fireplace was 
 another set of i liiiia which she said was three hundred and fifty years 
 old, and I have no doubt it was, for it looked as old as that, and my 
 adiniralioii was increased with its age. When she said it was a present 
 from the Emperor of China my amazement knew no bounds. \\ hen 
 
 -<i 265 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I had recovered from my surprise and astonishment she showed me the 
 figures on the walls, done in plaster. Of these I approved; but when she 
 said they were two hundred years old my admiration grew to wonder, 
 and when she added that they were all done by hand I was completely 
 overcome. After we left the dining room we went into the Chinese 
 room. Everything in it was from China and was a present to the 
 Queen from tlie Emperor of the Sun or his wife. The walls were cov- 
 ered with tapestry of Chinese needlework; so were the chairs; so was 
 everything. From this we passed into the Japanese room. Here was 
 tapestry of the finest silk on which landscapes with birds, trees, and 
 flowers were wrought with such a striking resemblance to nature that 
 you really could tell what some of the figures were designed to repre- 
 sent, and this I consider great praise. The Queen assured me that it 
 was " all done widi a needle, every bit of it." My admiration continued 
 to rise and I think my eyes must have begun to roll in their sockets. 
 We passed on into the ballroom. Here my amazement culminated. It 
 was an octagon, tlie floor of oak and so smooth that the greatest care 
 was necessary to stand upright. The walls and the ceiling, which was 
 a dome, were painted in fresco by some artist. I beg his pardon, but 
 I have forgotten his name. The Queen — not the one who showed us 
 around, but one of a former generation — was painted in the centre of 
 the dome and graciously looked down upon us. The paintings were 
 historical and allegorical, representing some king (I beg his pardon, 
 but my memory for names is proverbially poor), beginning with his 
 birth, which was quite an important event in his life, and ending with 
 his deadi, which was quite as important as his birth. The figures were 
 as large as life, and if the men were as noble and the women as beauti- 
 ful as the pictures the Dutch race has woefully degenerated. The dress 
 of the ladies was also remarkable, and if those who have danced in this 
 beautiful room wore the same costume, and only the same, while 
 dancing, they must have created a sensation. I believe it is what is 
 called " full dress," only it was a little fuller than ordinary, and must 
 have been fashioned after Eve's, before she indulged in eating apples. 
 The Queen, in a very innocent way, explained the figures, many of 
 which were portraits, and she did it so easily and in such a matter- 
 
 ~'4_ 266 ^^^ -
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 of-fact way that I should not be surprised if she had done it 
 before. 
 
 After she had shown me everything she said, " Now, Sir, I have shown 
 you the principal public apartments, beginning with the dining room 
 and ending with the ballroom," and she held out her hand as though 
 to bid me a reluctant adieu. Slate affairs, I presumed, might be press- 
 ing. I was about to take it and express my regret that my time was 
 limited and I could not remain to dinner; but luckily I discovered that 
 the palm lay open and horizontal, as if to receive rather than to give. 
 Well, I suppose she has many expenses and the times may be hard, so, 
 not to be outdone in courtesy, I gave her a silver coin, — a gulden, 
 worth about thirty-seven and one half cents. She thanked me very 
 kindly. Her feelings did not seem to be hurt in the least and she 
 bowed me out. I saw others coming in. I should not be surprised if 
 she would have to go through the same story. So you see, Dutch as well 
 as American queens have to work for a living. I had been told that 
 the grand man at the door, in gold lace and silk stockings, would not 
 feel hurt if I offered him a gratuity. Poor fellow! It must be tire- 
 some standing at the door all day and telling people to put their para- 
 pluic in the rack. The reason he says that is, I suppose, because the 
 roof of the palace is well shingled and does not leak, and it would 
 be a hindrance to carry an umbrella around all the rooms. I gave the 
 man — I wish I knew his name — ten cents, and he seemed wonderfully 
 pleased. 
 
 Having some more time upon my hands before the train left, I went 
 into the gallery of paintings and saw two which were almost equal to 
 the Chinese needlework. One was "The Bull," by Paul Potter, and 
 the other was by Teniers. I don't know the name of it, but I should 
 think it ought to be called "The Bread Distributor," for that seemed 
 to be what was represented. The picture by Potter was the most won- 
 derful one I ever saw. It was life itself. I had no book with me and 
 I did not know who painted it. I kinvv it was a great painting, and in 
 describing it to some one afterwards he said, " That must have been 
 'The Bull' by Paul Potter. That is a world-renowned jiainting." 
 
 From Switzerland he writes of a sunset in the Alps: 
 
 - <\ 267 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Mount Rhici, August 25, 1875. 
 
 The mountains seemed as though they were playing ^s■ith the clouds, 
 wreathing themselves in their folds and smiling through them, playing 
 at bo-peep with each other. Sometimes I wanted to shout, " Glory 
 Hallelujah," and again my eyes would fill with tears. But they were 
 not tears of sorrow. Ah, my child, perhaps you will tliink your old 
 father is growing sentimental. He does sometimes feel as if he were 
 renewing his youth, but not growing childish. I thought of you and 
 wished you could stand with me. You would have carried the picture 
 with you forever. 
 
 As the sun sank toward the horizon the clouds seemed to melt away 
 very gradually; the mountain peaks came out in clear outline, and some 
 of the highest, which we had not seen, became visible. It was a glorious 
 sight, far more interesting than it would have been if there had been 
 no clouds. As the sun's rays struck tlie sides of the mountains more 
 directly they glowed more brightly. One peak would cast its shadow 
 like a dark mantle around the sides of an opposite peak, which by 
 contrast made its face glow all the brighter. The clouds are still fading 
 away, and point after point, and line after line, comes out in clearer 
 fonn. The light is also changing from pure white. It is becoming 
 dyed with pink and die glaciers and llie face of the mountain are 
 gradually flushed with it. Oh, what a glory was spread over the sum- 
 mit of the lofty peaks while the lower ones lay in shadow! 
 
 But the darkness kept sweeping up from below. All darkness comes 
 from the earth; finally the sun shone only on the purple garments of 
 the Jungfrau. And now the last rays have fallen upon her. The sun 
 has sunk behind the horizon. I have seen a clear sunset on the Alps 
 and I am sure I shall never forget it. 
 
 Then a change took place which suqirised me more than any which 
 I had seen. The mountain peaks which had seemed to pierce the 
 heavens now sank down to a common level, and the remote chains drew 
 nearer. Their apparent approach was quite startling. They looked 
 gray and cold; they seemed to be divested of all their beauty and 
 much of their grandeur. The disenchantment was wonderful. The 
 changed appearance was due to the disappearance of light. It seemed 
 
 -4 268 ^■-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 to me that I had learned a great lesson in life — the use of shadows 
 and of various degrees of light. 1 tliink I have learned much which 
 will be of use to me in my vocation. 
 
 There were many English people present, and also some Americans. 
 I could not help hearing the expression of one lady who stood near me. 
 "Oh, look!" she said to a gentleman standing near her. '"What a 
 lovely mountain; it looks just like a wedding cake." I suppose she had 
 recently eaten of her own and could think of nothing more beautiful. 
 As the mists cleared away and the mountain's form was more fully re- 
 vealed, the resemblance became more striking and her exclamations 
 more frequent and enthusiastic. An immense glacier, hundreds of 
 feet deep, was the frosting, and on one side it seemed to have been cut 
 sheer down, so that you could see the thickness of the frosting and the 
 size of the cake. Perhaps it is the cake which was made when the 
 Jungfrau was married. 
 
 Of the sunrise the next morning he says: 
 
 There were probably two hundred men and women huddled together 
 upon the pinnacle of Mount Rhigi. I found a place sheltered from the 
 cold west wind and looked in the west rather than in the east for the 
 first indications of the sun's coming, for I knew tiiat tlie group of moun- 
 tain peaks of which the Jungfrau forms one was much the highest and 
 that the sun's rays would first strike their sharp points. And they did. 
 First their very points, which seemed shaqj and well defined, were 
 flushed witli rose color. Gradually the whole range became illuminated. 
 It was a grand sight, which is not given to every visitor to see. And now, 
 as the light increased, a wonderful transformation was seen, the reverse 
 of that which took place in the evening. The mountains began to break 
 the line and to take their proper positions. Some of them receded to a 
 great distance and assumed tlioir proper colors and forms. The light 
 fell down into the valleys like a benediction and revealed rock and tree 
 and hill, lake and habitation, until evfry nook was penetrated by it. 
 The transformation was magical beyond description. There was not 
 a cloud in the sky, and tlie mountain fonns were defined in the sharpest 
 outlines. 
 
 -4 269 )e»~-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 To Mr. Broadfield 
 
 Zurich, August 30, 1875. 
 
 I feel that I have become greatly enriched by my summer's tour. 
 I count over the additions to my life's treasure which I made in Man- 
 chester. I never estimated so fully the value of an acquaintance with 
 those whom one can esteem and love. It is a new way of access to the 
 Lord and they are new mediums of communicating His life to us. 
 Roseleigh will hereafter be a pleasant and a precious spot to me, and 
 I feel as though I could not thank you too much for bringing together 
 so many pleasant people during the Conference. 
 
 I am sometimes very lonely, and then again I am glad to be alone. 
 Tlie forms of nature around me are a more quiet speech than any 
 human voice. Sometimes I hardly know whether I am a boy or an old 
 man, but I soon find out when I begin to climb the mountains. 
 
 I must look upon Mount Blanc. My knowledge of the Alps, previous 
 to my coming here, gained almost wholly from the poet Byron's descrip- 
 tion of a thunder storm in the Alps, has haunted me ever since I 
 came, and yesterday I could endure it no longer, so I bought " Childe 
 Harold " and am reading it. 
 
 After crossing the Alps into Italy Mr. Giles writes from Milano, 
 September 21st, 1875: 
 
 I have visited several churches here. I saw nothing in them which 
 interested me particularly, except the original of the "Last Supper," 
 by Leonardo da Vinci. I was much affected by the face and head of 
 the Saviour. I have never seen anything like it. It is full of majesty, 
 sweetness, and sorrow. 
 
 Of Florence he says: 
 
 It is the most interesting city I have seen since I left home, and of all 
 foreign cities I think I should prefer it as a residence. 
 
 Here he visited a son-in-law of Mr. Hiram Powers, the sculptor. He 
 thus speaks of the family: 
 
 -"^ 270 ^•-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 They are charming people and they seemed to like me. They fancied 
 that I resembled Mr. Powers. I had a most pressing invitation to 
 remain longer with tliem, and when I come again I must come directly 
 to their house. The different families of the Powers (there are four or 
 five of them) live near each other and form a kind of English settle- 
 ment. There are also some other artists who live near, among them 
 Mr. Ball, the American sculptor. Wliile I was there Wehli, the pianist, 
 called with his wife, who is out of health. Wehli has lost his money 
 and is going to settle in Florence and give music lessons. I had quite 
 a talk with him about America, though I did not know until he left 
 that he was tlie great pianist, for they pronounce his name " Vaily," 
 which I misunderstood for " Bailey." 
 
 Florence is full of pictures and works of art of all kinds. I saw 
 the first telescope, the one which Galileo made and looked through, and 
 I tliink it interested me more than any of the great paintings I have 
 seen, save a few. 
 
 I spent the afternoon in the gallery of paintings, where tliere are 
 some of the greatest works of art in the world. There is no mistake 
 about it, the old chaps did know how to paint. But it requires months 
 of study to appreciate them, and some one who knows more about art 
 than I do. I can only tell when a picture pleases me and — would you 
 believe it? — I am such a Goth that I like some modem paintings better 
 than the ancient. 
 
 I think the young women in Italy are fine looking. They have large 
 dark eyes and look intelligent. I presume they preserve their good 
 looks much better among the middle and upper classes, but the women 
 of the lower classes grow dreadfully ugly. Their faces are wrinkled 
 and look dry, like old parchment, and their forms are bent and tlieir 
 eyes glow like fire. I saw a woman yesterday, thin, shrivelled, bent, 
 ugly, whose face made me shiver. She embodied my ideal of the 
 impersonation of evil. But the boys and girls look bright and I under- 
 stand that they are; I should not be surprised if Italy would again take 
 a high rank in the intellectual world. A gentleman in Florence told 
 me that there is as much freedom in Italy now as in England. Papers 
 containing all opinions are published, and books of every kind are 
 
 — g{ 271 Is—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 freely admitted. The Italy of to-day, he says, is not at all die Italy 
 of twenty years ago. 
 
 Rome, August 1, 1875. 
 
 Rome is unlike all my conceptions of it. My ideas of it were formed 
 almost wholly from classical reading, and it seems so poor and small 
 and mean compared with my imaginings that I can hardly believe tliat 
 it is Rome, the city that was once the mistress of the world and that 
 now claims to be the centre and source of religious knowledge and 
 life. 
 
 I spent yesterday in St. Peter's and the Vatican. St. Peter's is grand. 
 That equals my expectations. I spent all the time I could in it and the 
 more I stayed the more it grew upon me, and I suppose it would con- 
 tinue to do so if I should visit it every day for a month. I spent the 
 morning in the Sistine Chapel and tried to get as good an idea as I could 
 of Raphael's greatest work and of die greatest works of the kind in tlie 
 world. The paintings are grand, but to a New Churchman the ideas, 
 which are those of his time, seem very puerile. 
 
 In the afternoon I went to the galleries and saw some of the master- 
 pieces of the world. Some of them were horrible in subject, and how 
 any human being could bear to paint tlieni I do not see. I am so tired of 
 seeing madonnas and babies and Josephs and Maries and saints of all 
 descriptions that it would be a relief to see a good sinner, well painted. 
 I am wearied also with seeing " Pius, P.M.," which would be quite 
 agreeable if it meant a pious postmaster, which I suppose it does not. 
 I have seen the noble and beautiful in art and tlie mean and squalid in 
 human beings. I have seen the most lavish richness of ornament and 
 human poverty in its lower forms. 
 
 I have spent nearly tlie whole day in ancient Rome. I have been in 
 the house where Caesar was bom. I have stood on the spot where 
 Cicero's house is said to have been. I tried to bring the old Romans 
 back and repeople the spot with them. I have wandered around the 
 Forum and the Coliseum and along the Via Sacra, treading on the very 
 stones which Virgil and Cicero and Horace and Pompey and Scipio 
 and Caesar and Brutus and a multitude of others have trod. I can assure 
 you that it has been an interesting day, and one which I shall not soon 
 
 -4 272 }§e~-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 forget. I feel now as if I should like to review my classical studies. 
 But that I shall never do. 
 
 New York, October 26, 1875. 
 My dear Friend: 
 
 You see by the date of my letter that I am safely in my own coimtry 
 once more. 
 
 I found it very difficult to get away from England. From the power 
 ol attraction, or from some otlier cause, the steamer could not leave 
 until night had cast her shadows upon the earth and hid the island home 
 of so many dear friends from my view. A fog gatliered around us 
 so that neither the captain nor I could tell in which direction lay my 
 native country. But it cleared away, and we steamed slowly from one 
 class of dear friends to another. 
 
 I know that I have gained much by my visit. I have enlarged the 
 horizon of my thoughts and affections, and I feel that I am becoming 
 greatly enriched by the — I was going to say — friends I have made, 
 but they must have been made before. It is the exact truth to say the 
 friends I discovered. I feel that I have largely increased my world. 
 Its horizon stretches much fartlier away and embraces many more inter- 
 esting objects of thought and affection. 
 
 I know how busy I shall be when I put on the harness and begin my 
 work. I know how absorbed I shall be in it; how I shall write to weari- 
 ness of myself, — and others, too, perhaps. But I am sure I shall 
 think of the pleasant hours and kind faces and warm hearts in England 
 when I am writing and working, and unless I greatly change I shall be 
 addressing you as well as others, nearer in the body, perhaps, but not 
 so near in the spirit. 
 
 I feel deeply thankful that I have been permitted to make this visit, 
 and I shall try to profit by it as much as possible. 
 
 Mr. Giles writes in December, 187.5: 
 
 Tlie year has been a very hard one and a very pleasant one. I have 
 traveled over the greater part of Europe; I have written many sermons, 
 and I have written at least two pages of tlie Messenger every week, be- 
 
 -4 273 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 sides many other things. I think I have not wasted much time, and I 
 hope I have performed some use. 
 
 Those who have attended church have appeared to be much pleased, 
 and I seem to have a stronger hold upon the people than I have ever 
 had. I hope it is one which will last and be for their good. 
 
 I can see that I have made many mistakes, and if I had my work to 
 do over again I should work in a very different way. I would do much 
 more work with individuals and would rely much less upon mere 
 preaching. But I had no training for my work when I began it, except 
 a little knowledge of the doctrines. Wliat an absurdity! — to set a 
 man over a society and put die special care of souls into his hands 
 when he has no preparation for it. 
 
 Our society is spiritually in a very prosperous state. I have never 
 seen any society in which there was such a sphere of harmony. Our 
 meetings, both for worship and social life, are very pleasant and well 
 attended. I do not know of one person who is disaffected, though there 
 may be such. A lady who is pretty familiar with the whole society 
 says she never saw such a state of harmony and unity. Financially, we 
 are about in the same condition that we have been. How poor the 
 people do feel! I believe rich people always feel poor when they are 
 not actually making money. I never made any, so I do not know so 
 well what the feeling is. I shall soon be where earthly riches will not 
 benefit me much and where earthly poverty can do me no harm. 
 Happy indeed will it be for me if I am spiritually rich. 
 
 It seems as though rich men tliought they were better than other men 
 and deserving of more attention. There is great danger in riches, 
 both spiritual and material. The blessing pronounced upon the poor 
 must come in the order of the Divine Providence. 
 
 In April, 1876, Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 I have just commenced a series of articles in the Messenger on Spirit- 
 ual Culture, a subject upon which I have thought much, and if I should 
 succeed in saying anything worth preservation I may publish them 
 after they have been rewritten. I presume they will be somewhat 
 crude at first; perhaps they will at last. 
 
 -•s{;{ 274 ^'~
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 Of his work during this month he says: 
 
 I have done about as much as I could. I have written a sermon every 
 week, and what was equal to a sermon for the Messenger, besides all 
 my other duties. I have kept scratching away most of the time. Now 
 I have a much harder month before me. I must begin my address to 
 the Convention. I have the Association, and there are many other 
 duties to perform ; I must begin in earnest to-morrow to perform them. 
 
 One day's work is thus described : 
 
 This has been a day of hard and somewhat successful work. I wrote 
 a story for the children of twenty pages of note paper, and I wrote 
 twenty pages on my sermon, finished it, and attended a meeting at 
 Cooper Union. It seems as though I have some capacity for work re- 
 maining. I had not much idea that I could write the story, but the idea 
 came to me in the morning and I began it and it seemed to write itself. 
 If I had given myself up to it I think I could have made myself useful 
 in writing for children. Even now I suppose I might do something in 
 that way if I had not so much else to do. 
 
 The following Sunday was typical of many in New York. Distances 
 there are so great that in order to hold services in Brooklyn and other 
 outlying districts much time and strength must be consumed in going 
 from place to place. 
 
 It has been a day of labor. I wrote on my discourse as long as I 
 could, and then set out for Brooklyn with Lucy. Reached there just in 
 time for the morning's service. Preached for Mr. Ager, and after 
 service Mrs. B. drove me around to Mr. D's. I had some lunch and a 
 little rest. Wrote an introduction to the prayer and the prayer itself 
 before leaving the house. Went to church and delivered the discourse. 
 Rode to the cemetery and performed the service there. Afterwards I 
 went as fast as I could to Bergen and lectured, and then came home, 
 which I reached about eleven o'clock, as tired as one need be to have 
 a good rest. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday passed in tlie usual 
 routine work. 
 
 -♦4 275 }•>■■-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 May 10, 1876. This day closes the sixty-third of my life. When 
 I look back over it, it seems wonderful how the Lord has led me from 
 my humble home among the hills in Massachusetts to accomplish even 
 the little lliat I have. I can see how I have been checked, my way 
 absolutely blocked, at times, how I have been guided and restrained 
 and helped. But die little I can see is as nothing to what I cannot 
 see. What dreadful mistakes I have made, and yet out of them it 
 seems as though I could perceive that the Lord had led me to some of 
 my greatest blessings. If I had been more patient, more diligent, more 
 persevering and less afraid of men, or rather, less timid in meeting 
 with them, how much more good I might have done! And yet who 
 knows? 
 
 I should like to leave some things behind me to work when I am gone. 
 Every man has his own way of putting truth. The Divine Truth takes 
 on the form of his own mind and a new variety is created, so my way of 
 stating the Divine Truth may be more useful to some minds than that 
 of any other man. Thus it behooves me to do as much work as I can, 
 and to give utterance to the truth in a form which will be as interesting 
 and useful as possible. 
 
 What Mr. Giles now expresses about reading was equally true for 
 him with regard to music. The suggestion for many a sermon came to 
 him while listening to a Beethoven symphony. The harmonies heard 
 resolved themselves into harmonies of thought. 
 
 ■■d' 
 
 It is curious what effect reading has upon me. It always excites 
 thought upon the subject I have in mind, however foreign it may be to 
 the topic under consideration. I stopped reading several times and 
 went to writing, and made some progress upon my sermon. 
 
 The calm way in which personal criticism was met by Mr. Giles is 
 well illustrated here: 
 
 I found in Mr. Miller's Independent an attack on me by Mr. . 
 
 He must be " spoiling for a fight," as the boys say, to volunteer his 
 services and go so much out of his way to say something against me. 
 If he was as zealous in working with New Churchmen as he is in work- 
 ing against them, he would be a most lovable and valuable member. 
 
 -4 276 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 June 9, 1876. I was not renominated as a member of the Board 
 of Publications. Some new members were elected. I am happily free 
 from all responsibility from that quarter now. 
 
 I was reelected President of the Convention by five majority over all 
 votes and by twenty-four over the highest candidate. I wish I could 
 do something to advance the interests of the New Church throughout 
 the country, something much more efficient than I have ever done. 
 
 When Mr. Giles went to Europe, in July, 1875, the family moved 
 from the house in Thirty-fifth Street and the furniture was stored. 
 Upon his return in the autumn apartments were taken on the comer of 
 Fifty-second Street and Broadway. These were occupied for a year, 
 and October of 1876 finds the family in apartments on Twenty-fourth 
 Street. 
 
 In a letter from London Mr. Giles had expressed very friendly feel- 
 ings for the Rev. Mr. Tafel and his wife. It was therefore very pain- 
 ful to him to learn that Mr. Tafel, who was now visiting this country, 
 tliought my father was working against him. 
 
 Letter to Mr. L. H. Tafel from C. Giles 
 
 New York, October 17, 1876. 
 
 I called at your brother's store yesterday but was disappointed not 
 to find you there. I want to see you very much before you leave for 
 home. I would exceedingly regret to have you leave with the impres- 
 sion you now have, as I learn from your friends, that I am un- 
 friendly to you and that I have tried to prevent the circulation of your 
 book by giving it a name which would excite prejudice against it. 
 
 There is not a particle of truth in either assertion. I have not an 
 unfriendly feeling in my heart towards you. On the contrary, I greatly 
 admire your learning and your devotion to the New Church and tliink 
 you are performing a great use in it. 
 
 I assure you that I have no desire to prevent the publication of your 
 book. Not ht'iiii^ a member of the Board of Publications, I have no 
 voice in determining its action, but some of its members have consulted 
 me about the propriety of publishing it and I have always advised the 
 Board to do it. 
 
 It has been a source of regret to myself and to Mrs. Giles that we 
 
 -"€{ 277 )s^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 could not give you and Mrs. Tafel more personal attention, both for 
 our own pleasure and as some slight return for your great kindness 
 to me when I was in London. But it has been impossible for us to invite 
 you to our o\vn house for the simple reason that we had no room to 
 make you even comfortable. I have been prostrated with the heat this 
 summer and am yet hardly able to do the work which I am compelled 
 to do. We shall try to see you before you sail. If we should not, you 
 and Mrs. Tafel will carry with you our sincere wishes for a safe and 
 pleasant voyage and for a long life of usefulness in your great and im- 
 portant field of labor. We sincerely hope you will believe tliat I have 
 none but the kindest wishes for your welfare and usefulness. . . . 
 
 Two letters of advice to friends: 
 
 To one who Thought of Making Writing his Profession 
 
 I do not think I could give you much encouragement to engage in 
 literary work for any financial reasons. I think I should prefer to go 
 West and fight with the grasshoppers for existence. But if you have use 
 to others as a primary end, then I say go ahead and do the best you 
 can, which I am sure will be good enough to accomplish your purpose. 
 Your article for the children was well done and shows that you have 
 ability in that direction. I doubt not you would meet with some measure 
 of success as a writer, and I am sure you would succeed in doing good 
 and consequently in getting good, but how much would come in the 
 way of income I cannot say. I hope, however, you will go on and do 
 what you can, but by no means depend upon it for support. 
 
 On the Study of Swedenborg 
 
 You ask about reading Swedenborg every day. As a general rule I 
 think it is useful to read some every day, if you do not read too much. 
 If only one number is attentively read (perhaps one is better than 
 more), so tliat the idea is well fixed in the mind and made the subject 
 of some reflection, it would be a great help in spiritual growth. This is 
 what should be our aim. It is not of so great importance to know much 
 as it is to use what we know for spiritual growth. And that is effected 
 
 -^ 278 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 by reflecting upon what we learn and applying it to life. I am more 
 and more impressed every day with the importance of setting before 
 us as the end of life, to love to be useful. 
 
 The year 1877 opened with a course of lectures which were remark- 
 ably well attended. Mr. Giles speaks of tliem in several letters. 
 
 January 29, 1877. 
 
 I began a course of four lectures last night in our church. For once, 
 and tlie first time, the house was crowded to its utmost capacity. The 
 audience was a very appreciative and good one. They listened with 
 profound attention, and there were many expressions of satisfaction 
 and a determination to come again by strangers who were present. I 
 have never seen the faces of our people look so bright. No one came 
 with the expectation of seeing such an audience, and some thought there 
 would not be more than a hundred present. They were so overjoyed 
 that they could hardly go home. 
 
 There is also a large increase in the attendance in the morning. The 
 house has been well filled for the last three Sundays, which are the only 
 pleasant Sundays we have had this winter. Our people are all very 
 much encouraged by the interest which seems to be felt, as they have 
 good reason to be. 
 
 February 19, 1877. 
 Last night, when the lecture was over, two gentlemen came up to me, 
 and after some conversation wished to know if I would not deliver the 
 course in the great hall of the Masonic Temple on tlie comer of 
 Twenty-third Street and Sixth Avenue. They were Masons and said 
 they would use their influence to get the hall at a merely nominal cost. 
 The subject is now under consideration. This comes from people who 
 are not New Churchmen and looks ver)' significant. Of course I shall 
 accept if the proposition is run in a practicable manner. The hall will 
 seat one thousand people and is very central and accessible. Nothing 
 in the New Church has ever made such a stir in New York as these 
 lectures. I Icam from many sources that they are much talked about, 
 and very favorably, loo. W. says the boys at school speak about them 
 
 -4 279 Yj^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 and want to know if it is his fatlier who is drawing such crowds of 
 people. People come from Harlem, Brooklyn, and Jersey City, and the 
 interest has been very great. The class of people is also a very good 
 one, and I could not ask for better attention. Well, I hope some good 
 has been done, and tlie Lord be praised for it. 
 
 We are all well and everything goes on in its usual quiet round. 
 The principal difficulties we have to encounter are getting up in the 
 morning and going to bed at night, but we manage to overcome them 
 every day. 
 
 In January, 1877, the correspondence with Miss Holmes, afterwards 
 Mme. Humann of Paris, began. Letters were interchanged for fifteen 
 years. In them Miss Holmes wrote for counsel and help in meeting 
 tlie needs of the little band of New Church people in that city. Ob- 
 stacles and discouragements were many. She was untiring in her noble 
 work, and my father upheld her faitli and courage by his cheering sym- 
 pathy. Of his visits to Paris and the work done there, mention will be 
 made later. 
 
 Of the letters, it is of interest to note that Mme. Humann treasured 
 them for many years. Indeed, it is only since the close of the World 
 War that they came into my possession. They were delivered to me by 
 a returning soldier (my yoimgest son), to whom Mme. Humann in- 
 trusted them. 
 
 Letter to Miss Holmes 
 
 New York, January 22, 1877. 
 We have this encouragement in all our work for the New Church. 
 We know that it is the church of the future and that it must succeed. 
 We know also that there are many forces already in operation and con- 
 stantly increasing, in the spiritual world, in which the first and prin- 
 cipal work to be done is to prepare the ground for the reception of the 
 truth. We cannot effect much in advance of the preparation, though we 
 can aid in it. What seem to us to be insurmountable difficulties may 
 melt away like clouds before the sun. 
 
 New York, March 7, 1877. 
 It is one of the greatest discouragements in our work for the Church 
 that those who profess to love and serve it seem to have an eye to them- 
 
 -^ 280 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 selves as well. The work is greatly hindered by little personal rivalries 
 and jealousies which ought to be kept entirely in abeyance. The ob- 
 stacles in the way of much progress do seem very great everywhere; per- 
 haps greater in your country than in ours. 
 
 But they are not so strong as they have been and the forces which 
 are operating to build up the Lord's kingdom on the earth are con- 
 stantly increasing. I have found that the only way I could work with 
 courage and hope was to do the best I could under the circumstances 
 and leave the results with the Lord, not expecting too much. I say to 
 myself, " This thing I can do, and I will do it as well as I can. That is 
 all tlie Lord requires of me. I am His steward and I will be faithful 
 to llie trust. That He asks. But He does not require that I should 
 obtain a certain success." 
 
 I do not know enough about the state of the Church in France and the 
 quality of the French mind to feel competent to give you decided ad- 
 vice. But I should tliink it important to keep the books in a place where 
 they would be as easily accessible as possible and that such informa- 
 tion of the fact should be given to the public. I have not much confi- 
 dence in the use of self-appointed ministers or teachers. They have 
 never accomplished much good. I saw M. Chevrier when I was in 
 England and was much pleased with his appearance, and though I 
 could not talk with him, I have sometimes thought that he might be 
 a good man to succeed M. Harle. 
 
 July, 1877. 
 I shall not forget France or my promises to you about her. Dur- 
 ing the coming year I hope to learn so much about her needs con- 
 cerning the New Church and how to supply them that I can work under- 
 stand ingly and do her a real service. I shall depend almost wholly 
 upon you for this knowledge. 
 
 Mr. Giles's son-in-law, Mr. Carter of Boston, made some alterations 
 in his house about this time. As his wife was out of health, Lucy Giles 
 went in October to assist in the selection of furniture, etc. My fatlier's 
 whimsical comments on household decorations are anuising, and show 
 also a primary regard for their psychological effect and use. 
 
 -*i 281 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I am glad to learn that the carpets pleased Carrie. I felt confident 
 tliey would, for she is a woman of good taste. I am glad you pronounce 
 against " yaller." It may be the color of the sun and a good color for 
 some things, but not for a house. You want a color which harmonizes 
 widi the sky above and the earth below, a color which springs out of 
 the earth and melts into the blue above and which is distinct from either. 
 It must not stare at you and hurt you every time you approach it, and 
 repel you, as though you had no business in the house. It must invite 
 you, give you a hospitable welcome; I would say a warm welcome if 
 I did not fear Mr. M. might think I meant red. The color must be dis- 
 tinct, so that you can find your house, but not staring. It must be the 
 connecting link between blue and green. I can see how it should look, 
 but I am not sure that the color was ever named. It is not yellow nor 
 red nor brown nor white. I rather like the idea of " gray with a bright 
 tone," if you get the right kind of tone. As nearly as I can exjDress it, 
 the color must have the feeling of home in it. There, is not that clear? 
 It must say welcome to those who approach it and peace to those who 
 dwell in it. If Mr. M. will find such a color, I will get him to decide 
 upon the color of my house, which is a " castle in Spain." 
 
 I am not acquainted with Eastlake, but I presume he knows how to 
 make bedsteads and bureaus as well as Mr. Dusseldorf knows how to 
 paint pictures, so I shall not find any fault with his work at present. 
 I will wait imtil I see it. As to pots and kettles I am not a judge, 
 except of what comes out of them. A good j)ot ought to produce 
 good potatoes, sweet, mealy, and tender, and light dumplings, etc., etc. 
 As to dishes, I agree with R. I like china better than this brown or blue 
 what-do-you-call it. I can drink good coffee and delicious tea out of 
 a good china cup if it has a small figure and a band around it. You 
 may fill tlie band with any color which harmonizes with tea. I don't 
 like brown in dishes. It reminds me of earth. Brown is the color 
 of dirt. I don't like blue. Blue reminds me of the sky. It is too 
 ethereal for mutton chops and roast beef to rest upon. The color must 
 be inviting; it must help the appetite; it must suggest aromas and 
 savors. Please to select your dishes of that color. 
 
 Since writing the above philosophical disquisition on ceramic art, 
 
 -•^ 282 )ie..-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 I have eaten dinner. You will think I must have been sufficiently 
 
 exhausted with the effort to need it. 
 
 Sunday, October 28, 1877. 
 My dear, darling busy Daughter: 
 
 I am afraid you have an elephant on your hands in that new 
 shanty. When it is " fixed " I am afraid it won't stay fixed. What can 
 you be doing? Toning up — toning down? Fixing '" didos " — or 
 having finished your work, have you given yourself up to repose in 
 some easy chair? Have you forgotten that there is such a village as 
 New York, and that there is one family at least of poor but honest 
 people living in it who had two daughters, one of whom was inxeigled 
 away by a young chap — a Carter by profession — - the other of whom 
 followed after her, for the ostensible purpose of helping to get a roof 
 over her head and a comfortable place for her to eat and sleep in? 
 Imagine die lonely and desolate condition of that family, especially of 
 the aged parents alone with only two boys, a grandson, a niece, and 
 their friends occasionally dropping in! Think of the venerable mother 
 compelled to give dinner parties to young ladies to dispel the loneliness 
 of her solitude. Think of her as rushing all over the house with broom 
 and duster and scrubbing brush to get every finger mark and particle of 
 dust removed from the suspicion of existence. Imagine her scouring 
 the markets on Third and Fourth avenues, and even extending her ex- 
 plorations to Washington Market for dainties. Think of her, on aged 
 and weary limbs, visiting ten stores to match some china. Think of the 
 directions, injunctions, the reasons, the necessities for full preparation. 
 Then imagine the aged and infirm partner of all these sorrows and con- 
 fusions driven into a little seven by nine room and compelled to live 
 on bread and milk and some accessories. Think of the parlor turned 
 upside down and the furniture so disarranged that the ohlest inhabitant 
 coiilil not find his "sleepy hollow." Iliiiik of all these things antl as 
 many more as you please. Let these direful visions break in upon 
 your slumbers and haunt you in your dreams. Think of the eight ac- 
 com])lished and brilliant young ladies i)eing invited to see these im- 
 provements, the result of all this lavish expenditure of time, money, 
 strength, and temper, and to partake of these luxuries gathered from 
 
 -4 283 )S^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 many places, and then behold the supreme result — one, yes one, came 
 — one-eighth. Twelve and one half per cent. came. Ask your brother- 
 in-law if he thinks (I believe he is quick at figures and is a good shot 
 whenever he hits the mark) — ask him to bring all his financial ability 
 and experience to the consideration of the question — ask him with 
 due solemnity and emphasis if he thinks that was a paying business. 
 It is time this veteran in social strategy was not caught napping. She 
 "hedged" skillfully and broiled only two " Philadelphias," did not 
 prepare the whole bushel of cranberries, and the family has profited 
 by the reserve. But think of it and see what calamities have befallen 
 us on account of your absence. 
 
 In the autumn of 1877 Mr. Giles became seriously ill. The illness 
 was the result of a long period of overwork. For years he had been 
 doing double duty, acting as pastor of tlie New York Society and as 
 editor of the Messenger. In addition, there were the many demands 
 upon him to lecture in many places, not only in the vicinity of New 
 York but in various parts of the country. Then, too, his position as 
 President of die General Convention involved much correspondence 
 and an active interest and participation in matters relative to tlie Church 
 at large. There is a physical limit beyond which even the most zealous 
 cannot go, and my father had reached that limit. 
 
 Soon after his recovery came the call from the Philadelphia Society. 
 This opened the way for comparative rest with a prospect of continued 
 usefulness. Should he accept? The pros and cons were thoroughly 
 considered and a decision reached. Some of the steps which led to 
 the final result are here given, in fragments of correspondence: 
 
 I am going to Philadelphia to preach next Sunday, and Oliver Dyer 
 will preach here for me. I expect my going will bring matters to a 
 crisis either one way or another. I am perfectly content to abide by 
 the leadings of the Divine Providence. Of one thing I am sure — I 
 cannot much longer do the amount of work I have done for some years 
 past. I regard my sickness this fall as a warning to hold up a little. 
 I should be very sorry to leave New York, but unless the society awakes 
 to the situation and takes hold of the work of sustaining the church 
 more vigorously, I shall be compelled to; not immediately, but in the 
 near future. But there is no use in talking about the matter now. 
 
 -4 284 ^'-
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 November 6, 1877. 
 The formal " call " came from Philadelphia this afternoon. It is 
 unanimous and is put in as pleasant a shape as I could wish. The 
 invitation closes with these words: " Our society with one accord unites 
 in calling you and believes that you will be the Providential means of 
 building it up as no other man can now do. 
 
 Mr. T. S. Arthur puts the case and the peculiar needs of the Phila- 
 delphia Society very clearly in the following: 
 
 Piiii.ADKLPniA, December 10, 1877. 
 
 Let me present to you some considerations that have forced them- 
 selves strongly on my mind as reasons for your coming to Philadelphia. 
 You must, of course, weigh them for yourself. I need not tell you how 
 greatly our society has been tried and tempted, disorganized, crippled, 
 and disheartened for these many years. 
 
 Your presence here would check the drift in the current which seems 
 bearing the church in Philadelphia helplessly away. Not that we want 
 you to fight any battles for us; what we want is conservation and the 
 strength that comes from clear seeing of those truths which work them- 
 selves into good lives, the only true strength of the church. Our case is 
 exceptional. Not from one or from ten, or twenty even, is the cry 
 sent over to you for help in this our great time of need, but from a 
 hundred and more. It would touch you, could you see and hear the 
 expectant eagerness with which one and another asks, "Will Mr. Giles 
 come? " — and their looks of disappointment when the doubtful answer 
 is given. 
 
 So much for our need of you. Another consideration which may 
 have weight with you is this: All the leading and most influential men 
 in the church here are deeply interested in the work of disseminating 
 the doctrines by means of the press. I need not refer to what we have 
 done and are doing. As I understand! it, you have in view literary work 
 for the (liun li. In this work our " Tract and Publication Society "could 
 and would aid you very materially. It would be wholly in sympathy 
 with you in tlie work and could do nmch to promote tlic circulation of 
 anything you might put to press. I do not offer this view of tlie case as 
 
 -^ 28.S ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 an appeal to you on the ground of personal success, but only as an indi- 
 cation of the larger use that would come dirough the greater facilities 
 for putting New Church books into circulation which, under Provi- 
 dence, exist in our city. 
 
 As to your coming here. As you perhaps know, I was one of the 
 last to move in tbis matter, because I could not tolerate the idea of your 
 leaving your home and a certainty, to move to this place. There are 
 many things about Philadelphia distasteful to a New Yorker. I had too 
 much affection for you to be willing that you should incur any risk, 
 and for a long time I turned a deaf ear, to tlie great astonishment of 
 many of my friends. My duties as chairman of the committee have 
 brought me in contact with nearly every one, and all, while ardently de- 
 siring that you may come, stop to ask whether you will be likely to be 
 happy here; in short, show deep, warm, personal interest in your wel- 
 fare. You were the only person all our people here could unite upon. 
 Strangely enough, they did unite and taxed themselves for your sup- 
 port. Your sickness came, which was a strong warning that you must 
 cease some of your work. I could see that your path in New York 
 would not be all strewn with roses, and dien, last and most, there 
 seemed to be real need for you here — a real and important use to be 
 performed, which no one else could render; so, all other doors closing, 
 I felt strong and full of faith to enter the only open way and send the 
 call, trusting that the Lord would guide us aright and send His blessing 
 on our efforts. 
 
 After careful consideration Mr. Giles's final decision was given to 
 the New York Society and a letter of acceptance sent in response to 
 the call from Philadelphia. 
 
 With the closing of his pastorate in New York ended also his work as 
 editor of the Messenger. In response to his resignation, Mr. Giles 
 received a very pleasant letter, commendatory of his work as editor, 
 from Mr. D. L. Webster, chairman of the Board of Publication. 
 
 Mr. Giles writes : 
 
 Niiw York, December 21, 1877. 
 I have just come from the Book Room and have ended my labors as 
 editor. I have been more or less engaged on the Messenger for twelve 
 
 -^ 286 ^~
 
 NEW YORK PASTORATE, 1875-1877 
 
 years, during six of which I have had the whole control of it and have 
 done the most of the work in editing it. I have written from one fourth 
 to one sixth of it nearly every week for the last six years. It is ended 
 now and I am glad of it, and many others will be also. I don't know 
 how I shall conduct myself when I fully realize that I have no " copy " 
 to prepare. 
 
 My relations with the society in New York are also officially ended. 
 My resignation has been accepted and the members of the society have 
 voted that they ought to pay me five hundred and seventy dollars in- 
 terest for carrying their debt of fifteen hundred dollars for five years 
 for them, and they have voted to pay me as soon as possible — at far- 
 thest, within two years. Some resolutions were passed Wednesday even- 
 ing which I understood were quite complimentary to me, but I have not 
 read them. I shall preach two Sundays more; then my work will be done 
 and I shall enter upon my new field of labor in the city of brotherly love. 
 
 Mow I dread the next few weeks! I do not want to leave New York. 
 I told them in Philadelphia that I should much prefer to remain here, 
 and if I consulted my personal feelings and wishes I should do so. But 
 when the change is once made I think we may be as happy in Phila- 
 delphia as here. I try to keep all selfish and merely personal feelings 
 from my mind and to look only to those considerations which ought 
 to govern in such a case, and I hope and believe that I shall be guided 
 aright. 
 
 To Carrie from her Mother 
 
 New York, December 20, 1877. 
 
 This has been your dear father's last Sunday in Thirty-fifth Street. 
 It has rained all day but there was a good audience. It has been nearly 
 fourteen years since we came to this city and we leave it with deep 
 regret. We shall leave many dear friends and the breaking up of the 
 family will be very painful. But your dear father's severe sickness 
 this fall settled many doubtful questions once and for all. 
 
 From Philadelphia Mr. McGeorge writes: 
 
 I am heartily glad and proud, if the feeling is proper, that you come 
 to us followed by the regrets of all voiir parishioners, that you come 
 
 -Cr{ 287 }§.-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 to us wafted on and sustained by heartfelt prayers for your future hap- 
 piness and prosperity. I am glad for the sake of Church that your 
 influence is so wide and deep and large, and I fervently pray that as 
 the years roll on your influence for good will increase and be more 
 sensibly felt. 
 
 -^ 288 ^-
 
 w. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 Philadelphia: an Introductory Chapter 
 
 E are all familiar with the early beginnings of the New Church in 
 Philadelphia, — beginnings which mean also its birth on this continent. 
 From a lecture given by James Glenn during a brief visit to that city in 
 1784; from the box of books for him which arrived after he had left; 
 from the readers of those books (works of Swedenborg) which were 
 bought at auction, — we have at first a little group of readers, two or 
 three gathered together in His Name, who met in an informal way 
 and read and discussed with delight their new-found treasures of spir- 
 itual trutli. As these new views spread (they took good care to com- 
 municate them ) , they received word from others in the country of like 
 mind, and these letters were read with pleasure when they met together. 
 It was the childhood period of the Church, with a simple delight in its 
 life-giving precepts and also a child's delight in growing. As this de- 
 velopment proceeded and the period of youth approached (still look- 
 ing towards maturity), the first General Convention was formed. It 
 met May 15th, 1817. It was a happy and harmonious gathering. 
 Many letters were read from those unable to be present and a com- 
 mittee was formed to regulate the ordination of ministers. Other sub- 
 jects submitted for adjustment have already been mentioned in the 
 chapter on the Middle West. 
 
 With the necessity for definite external form inevitably came much 
 disagreement as to its manifestation. Remember, this was the period 
 of youth. And as youth at a certain stage is argumentative, so was 
 the collective childhood of tlie Church. 
 
 Measures which the Convention recommended for Church polity were 
 as strongly disapproved in Philadelphia as they had been in New York 
 and Ohio, so that it, like the others, withdrew from the general body. 
 
 Objections to Convention and its measures continued on the part of 
 individuals, and unhappily for harmony in Philadelphia, among its 
 various leaders were exponents of widely dilTeriiig church polities. 
 Each man upheld his opinion with the tenacity which belongs to strong 
 
 -^289)3.-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 characters, and many maintained their opinions to be necessary 
 principles. 
 
 Those who opposed Convention diflfered among themselves with re- 
 gard to rituals and church government. Some adhered to distinctions 
 of rank amongst the clergy, others advocated little or no form; the ex- 
 tremists thinking it unnecessary to have a separate church organization. 
 There was still another party, which while working with Convention 
 advocated an elaborate system of ecclesiasticism. Besides the radicals 
 of these conflicting views there were the more moderate and conserva- 
 tive who wished enough form for orderly worship, but laid more stress 
 on the spiritual development of the church. 
 
 Historical details of the Philadelphia society have been omitted, 
 simply because the purpose has been to outline the differing elements 
 which were by degrees focussed in that one society, with the unhappy 
 result that the individuals which composed it were of such strongly 
 divergent opinions that united action was rendered very difficult. It 
 was an unhappy state, and none deplored it more than the society's own 
 members. 
 
 To Mr. Giles they turned with a unanimous call, really an appeal, 
 tliat he would come to their rescue. 
 
 How did Mr. Giles meet these conditions? 
 
 He has told so clearly what he thinks necessary to spiritual union, 
 and he had so constantly in mind the upbuilding of a strong society 
 which should embody diese principles, that I cannot answer better than 
 to state them as tliey are set forth in extracts from an address given on 
 that subject to the General Convention. 
 
 Every man, woman, and child is a living link in the chain of 
 causes and effects by which the Lord creates and blesses man. The 
 penalty for breaking away from this connection is death. "What is 
 unconnected does not exist." Such is the general law. 
 
 The unity in which we dwell together with others and with the Lord 
 is always the measure of our happiness. 
 
 In society we proceed from bare recognition to intimate acquaint- 
 ance; in domestic life to the mutual interchange of our most secret 
 thoughts and affections; in the Church we approach one another as 
 spiritual beings, as children of the same loving Father; as sinners 
 against the same Divine law, as having the same hopes and fears, and 
 
 -4 290 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA: AN INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER 
 
 looking forward to the same eternal home. Between homogeneous 
 natures this reciprocal union will grow more intimate and delightful 
 to eternity. 
 
 Is such a union and such a blessedness possible to us? It must be, 
 because the Lord made us for it. No mechanic ever constructed two 
 things to fit togetlier so accurately as man was designed to fit man. 
 
 Obstacles to this Union are now Considered 
 
 Self-love does not incline us to dwell together in unity as brethren. 
 Self-love is the centrifugal force in human society, and when it is the 
 supreme love it drives the soul from its orbit of duty and arrays it 
 against others. What self-love cannot compel into its service it seeks 
 to destroy. Rule or ruin is the law of its action. 
 
 Other formidable obstacles are differences of opinion caused by 
 diversity of knowledge and habit, which lead us to magnify things of 
 little value above those which are essential. 
 
 One form and one method may be abstractedly better than anotlier, 
 but none of them are of sufficient importance to alienate the hearts 
 of bretliren and cause division in the church. That is the best method 
 by which we all can work together for a common end. 
 
 Hoiv Spiritual Union can be Promoted 
 
 W\\ei\ two bodies are drawn by attraction they both must move. So it 
 must be in spiritual attraction. Both must move, and each one ought 
 to advance with a willingness to take the first step, and go tlic whole 
 distance, and do tlie whole work. Confidence begets confidence, and 
 love awakens love. Only let our ends be good and we may wear our 
 hearts as open as the day. Wliat miracles a plain, frank, sinctne, and 
 tender word will work in us! We thought we were walking alone, per- 
 haps forsaken by man and even by the Lord, when the magic of a word 
 dispels the illusion, and we find ourselves in the midst of friends, with 
 warm hearts to comfort, and strong iiands to hel|i us. 
 
 In our efforts to approach each other, we must ne\er forget that 
 unity is not sameness. Like the disciples, we are sometimes more 
 
 '■*i 291 }■>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 inclined to complain of others because they do not follow us than be- 
 cause they do not follow the Lord. 
 
 The perfection of every society depends upon the harmonious vari- 
 eties that compose it. A human body all bone is a skeleton; without 
 bones, a mass of flesh. There are no superfluous organs in man. So 
 in societies and organizations, the greater the variety and the larger the 
 number the better, if each would do his own work. 
 
 In the construction of the first temple at Jerusalem it is said, " And 
 the house, when it was in building, was built of stone made ready before 
 it was brought thither." So it should be with us. We ought to do our 
 hewing and shaping before we come together. We ought to put away 
 the personal peculiarities that hinder our approach to others and our 
 union with tliem. 
 
 Such were the principles brought into the life of the society, with 
 the well-known successful results: a stormy youth grown to a well- 
 developed manliood. 
 
 -4 292 ]^-
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 Philadelphia Pastorate, 1878-August, 1879 
 
 X HE change from New York to Philadelphia not only marked a new 
 field of labor in the ministry, but altered the home life very much. 
 Lucy, the eldest daughter, and William, the youngest son, were the 
 only ones to leave New York. Two of the family were married. War- 
 ren lived in Brooklyn. Carrie, the youngest daughter, had mar- 
 ried and moved to Boston five years before. Chauncey and Charles, 
 who were in business in New York, remained there. The parents' home 
 was no longer the centre of the family life. My father and mother felt 
 this disintegration very keenly, but accepted it as a necessary factor of 
 their changed conditions. Of his home in Philadelphia Father writes: 
 
 We are delightfully situated here. West Philadelphia is a city in 
 the country. The streets are like green lanes. Many of the houses 
 have beautiful gardens filled with shrubbery and flowers. We have 
 some city sounds, but they are not numerous and loud enough to drown 
 the songs of birds and other country notes. We have enjoyed the quiet 
 and beauty of our new home very much. But it is to be deprived of one 
 of its chief charms. Lucy expects to leave us in the autumn and begin 
 life for herself. She is engaged to be married to a son of Doctor H. N. 
 Guernsey of this place, and if nothing prevents she will be married in 
 the autumn or early winter and move to New York where Mr. William 
 Guernsey is. It will leave only Willie with us. It seems like going 
 back to the time when Mrs. Giles and I set out alone. But such things 
 must be. 
 
 Some of his early impressions of Philadelphia follow: 
 
 Philadelphia, March 2, 1878. 
 
 I am often asked if I feel at home, and I am compelled to answer, 
 
 "No." I know I am at home and I am satisfied, but there is so great 
 
 a difference between Philadelphia and New York that it will take time 
 
 to accommodate myself to all the new ways and feel contented. The 
 
 -*■( 293 l9»-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 people are very kind and do all in their power to make me feel at home. 
 There are many people of culture here, and I think they are more so- 
 ciable than they were in New York. I really think we have received 
 more invitations to dine and take tea since we came here than we did 
 in the fourteen years we were in New York. I do not see why we may 
 not feel at home in due time. At present it seems more like visiting. 
 
 The attendance at church has greatly increased since I came. The 
 house has been well filled every Sabbath, and the prospects appear to 
 be favorable for a strong society of the church. If I can really get 
 the New Churchmen in this city into good working order I feel as 
 though it would be a good ending to my life's work. 
 
 Soon after they went to Philadelphia Mr. Giles received a letter from 
 Miss Holmes in which she asked his good offices for the little struggling 
 society of Paris. 
 
 Through Mr. Giles's efforts with our government at Washington, rep- 
 resentations were made to the French Government which induced it to 
 grant permission to the New Church people to hold public meetings. 
 Some of the correspondence on the subject is given herewith: 
 
 To Miss Holmes 
 
 Philadelphia, March 28, 1878. 
 
 I find that our people here are quite willing to have me go abroad 
 for several months. My principal hesitation now about going is that 
 I might not be able to do you any good that would be worth the trouble 
 and expense. 
 
 It is necessary that you write me in perfect freedom and frankness 
 about your wishes in the matter so that there may be no misunderstand- 
 ing about it, and I hope you will do it. I have only one desire, and 
 that is to do the best I can for tlie church. 
 
 The following application for permission to hold public meetings 
 was forwarded through the proper officials: 
 
 To His Excellency, M. Mercere, Minister of Public Worship 
 
 and Instruction 
 
 We learn with great pleasure by a communication which we have 
 received from the Secretary of State of the United States of America 
 
 -=^ 294 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 that the French Government has been pleased to grant the request of the 
 members of the New Church to hold public meetings for the worship 
 of the Lord, and for instruction in the doctrines of our church in the 
 city of Paris. 
 
 We hereby make application to have the instruction necessary to 
 carry this permission into effect issued to M. the Prefect of Police. 
 
 In doing so, and with profound gratitude for the liberty granted us, 
 we think it due to ourselves and to the government from which we 
 have obtained this favor, to make a concise but explicit declaration 
 of what our purposes are not, and of what they are, that there may be 
 no ground for any misunderstanding in the matter. 
 
 1. Our organization has no political ends of any kind, and our meet- 
 ings will have no relation to civil affairs. We are not socialists or 
 spiritualists, and we have no connection or sympathy with secret soci- 
 eties of any kind or name. The members of the New Church in Amer- 
 ica and England, where their numbers are the most numerous, are 
 known as intelligent, orderly, and useful members of society. 
 
 2. There is nothing in our doctrines which has any tendency to 
 demoralize and corrupt society. On the contrary, all their principles 
 inculcate personal purity of life and devotion to some useful employ- 
 ment. Their influence will tend to secure obedience to law, social 
 order, and public tranquillity. It is a maxim with us that "' All religion 
 has relation to life and the life of religion is to do good." 
 
 3. While we have distinct religious doctrines which we hold with 
 intelligence and firmness, we have no desire to be offensive in tlieir 
 propagation, or in any way to awaken religious animosities, or inter- 
 fere with the religious freedom of others. Indeed, we believe we have 
 no purpose which would not meet with the approval of every intelli- 
 gent and true lover of his country, and we shall use no means which 
 will be hurtful to civil order and social peace to carry our purposes 
 into effect. 
 
 But our position is by no means a negative one. We believe we have 
 come into the knowledge of truths relating to man's spiritual nature 
 and destiny which meet the religious wants of intelligent and good 
 men in all enlightened countries and which throw a flood of light upon 
 
 -4 295 js--
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 those profound questions of man's origin, nature, and destiny which 
 have heretofore baffled the power of the most acute minds and the 
 most honest lovers of truth. We believe that these truths will help men 
 to take a new step in human progress as great in spiritual life as a true 
 knowledge of nature has enabled them to take in industrial and social 
 affairs. 
 
 We desire to meet for the worship of the Lord, for instruction in 
 these principles, and for mutual encouragement and help in the prac- 
 tice of those truths which will better assist us in the development of the 
 highest faculties of our nature and in all our social, civil, and religious 
 relations to perform our duties in the most efficient and helpful manner. 
 
 On June 13th, 1878, Mr. Giles with Mrs. Giles and his son William 
 sailed for Europe. Miss Holmes, who was in the United States at the 
 time, accompanied them. Their voyage was uneventful and comfort- 
 able, as far as life at sea is consistent with comfort. They landed in 
 Liverpool, and after a short stay in London went to Paris. Mr. Giles 
 thus describes their surroundings: 
 
 We try to do a little something at sight-seeing every day, but we 
 are not driving the business very hard. I cannot walk very long at 
 a time, so we do what we can. We are really leading quite an idle life, 
 which suits me better than any other. Our house is as quiet as it is 
 at Philadelphia, — perhaps it is even more secluded. Our room looks 
 out upon a garden full of shrubbery and there are many open lots 
 around, with the thousands of acres of woods in the Bois de Boulogne 
 only a short distance, not more than a Philadelphia block, beyond us. 
 So we have fresh air, quiet to which we can retreat, and easy access to 
 any amount of crowds and excitement we may desire. 
 
 I do not know that we are spending the time very wisely, but I am 
 too old to profit much by my advantages. This is the history of the 
 world. Experience is like the stem light of a ship; it only sheds its 
 beams on the track over which we have passed. 
 
 The small beginning of the Paris Society is thus described: 
 
 In the afternoon we went to hear Dr. Poirson at his house. The 
 service is held in the fourth story in a little room which twenty people 
 
 -•^ 296 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 will crowd. The floor is of brick with a rug which covers the centre. 
 On one side are bookcases filled with books and other literary matters. 
 On the other side is a painting of the nude figure of a girl. 
 
 The service seemed very long and tedious. 
 
 Mrs. H was baptized by Mr. Benade, who read the service in 
 
 French. Then Dr. Poirson read a chapter in Isaiah and gave the spir- 
 itual meaning. Then he read from some work on the " Symbolism of 
 the Eastern Mythology." Mr. Benade followed with a prayer which 
 ended the service. 
 
 The pros[)ects of the New Church certainly do not look very bright; 
 but the Lord has the care of His church and He will raise up men to do 
 the necessary work. 
 
 Of the various objects of interest in Paris Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 There are so many new and beautiful, and old, ugly things to see 
 that it seems useless to try to describe them and as impossible as use- 
 less. The professional writers do it much better than I can, and I sup- 
 pose the American papers are full of such accounts. 
 
 Some descriptions, however, were not left to " professional writers." 
 The travelers saw that rare event, the playing of the fountains at Ver- 
 sailles, and the following letter gives their experiences: 
 
 After many inquiries and some guessing we really found " Les 
 Grands des Eaux." It is the grandest thing of the kind in tlie world. 
 There is an immense basin in the form of a semicircle. The fomitains 
 are on the side of the diameter, and the ground rises gradually on 
 the other side. It thus gives a fine opportunity to see tlie water when 
 the fountains arc |ilaying. This upward slop(> covered with grass was 
 filled with people waiting fur the waters to break lorlli. It was not yet 
 eight, and the performance was not to come oil uiilil nine o'clock. We 
 thought we sliouid be in aiii|tlc liiiir lo get good positions. Wliat was 
 our surprise to find tliis whole aiiiphithcatre packed with peojile. We 
 tried to work our way through the crowd, but soon gave it up. A plat- 
 form had been placed in the middle of the circle. Upon it tliere were 
 chairs, from which a good view could be obtained. Seated here, we had 
 
 -'■4 297 )<♦•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 to wait nearly an hour. But there was a fine hand near us which helped 
 to pass the time pleasantly. Finally a gun was fired, and we soon saw 
 the water begin to rise at one end of the arc. Soon streams began to 
 shoot up from the middle of the lake, and all along the line of the diam- 
 eter of the circle I counted seventy-five jets, some of them rising as high 
 as eighty feet. There were three fountains formed of bronze mytho- 
 logical figures: one in the centre, and one on each side at equal dis- 
 tances from it. At every few rods between them there was a line of jets 
 of different heights, the water rising and falling and waving in the wind. 
 
 To heighten the beauty of the scene and to enable the people to see 
 it more clearly, electric lights had been placed at different positions 
 in the circimiference. These could be turned on and off and changed 
 in direction, increased or diminished in intensity, at will. This gave 
 life and animation to it and threw a charm over it which made it a 
 perfect fairy scene. 
 
 After a time, rose-colored Bengal lights were kindled all along be- 
 tween the jets of water. The tinted smoke rose and mingled with the 
 moving columns of water, and the electric lights were poured upon them 
 with greater intensity. A cry of admiration arose from tlie vast multi- 
 tude. Then the rose lights soon died away, tlie smoke arose, and left 
 the pure water playing upwards in clear white light. I should have 
 said that this fountain is surrounded with tall, dense trees. Between 
 the trees and the lake, with the dark foliage for a background, there 
 had been erected a long line of arches. 
 
 These must have been twenty-five or thirty feet high. The faces of 
 them were covered with little glass tumblers of different colors partly 
 filled with oil in which was a wick or cork. They were connected with 
 festoons of lights, and on the top were blazing figures of haqjs and urns, 
 etc. They extended for a long distance, and presented a chain of light 
 before which there rose seventy-five jets of water, whose sprays fell in 
 soft and beautiful showers reflecting the various lights, half concealing 
 and tlien revealing them. You must imagine this steady light as a back- 
 ground to the fountains. 
 
 Wlien the rose lights had died away they were replaced by green 
 ones, and these by red, which gave a weird and unearthly appearance 
 
 -4 298 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 187&-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 to the scene. The people themselves became partly enveloped in the 
 red smoke, which transformed them into different beings. Then the 
 smoke died away and the atmosphere became pure. The electric lights 
 were also shut off and the scene was dim and sombre. Suddenly we 
 heard a loud report, and from twenty places along the line there was 
 a discharge of immense balls of fire which rose high in the air and ex- 
 ploded, sending out a great number of smaller balls which in their 
 turn exploded and filled the whole air with a rain of fire. This con- 
 tinued for some time, until it seemed as if the whole shore were belch- 
 ing fortli balls of fire. 
 
 This was succeeded by streams of fiery particles, which rose nearly 
 as high as the jets of water and appeared like fountains of fire, min- 
 gling with the columns of water and vying with them in height and 
 volume. Tlie combined effect was wonderful. You could see the water 
 and tlie fire rising, falling, blending their streams, drops of fire, sparks 
 of water, so mingled you could hardly discriminate. But no descrip- 
 tion can give any adequate idea of it. 
 
 This quiet and enchanting scene was followed by rockets and other 
 pieces which burst with a tremendous noise, and it required no 
 fancy to imagine that they were bombarding us. In connection with 
 this, pieces were thrown into the lake, occasionally rushing madly 
 around, and sending up into the air, with an explosion like cannon, 
 balls of fire whose course we could trace until they in turn exploded 
 and filled the whole air with golden rain or with smaller balls which 
 darted madly around and then burst with a loud cracking noise. 
 
 Fully to appreciate this exhibition you must try to imagine its im- 
 mense extent. It was not from a few pieces alone, but there were a 
 great number of them in constant and long succession. It was like the 
 firing of a park of artillery in sound. It seemed as though this must 
 exhaust the genius of even the French for such displays and we rose 
 to go, as we wished to get home before the immense crowd, when sud- 
 denly there was a tremendous explosion and a shout from the multi- 
 tu(l(\ We turned and were greeted with something more grand and 
 terrific than anything we had seen before. Directly in the centre there 
 issued a stream of fire and balls of various colors, branching out into 
 
 -<i 299 }a^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 a fan-shape, rising high ahove the trees and filling the sky with beauti- 
 ful and many-colored lights. This certainly must he the end, and we 
 again rose, but a shout and a rattling fire arrested our steps. Along the 
 whole line and in front of every arch, erected on high posts, there were 
 revolving arms of fire sending out balls of green, blue, red, and white 
 fire, with a loud report. They revolved so rapidly that it seemed as 
 if they would hurl their masses at our heads. During this grand 
 fusillade we saw the jets of water sink to the ground, and we knew " Le3 
 Grands Fetes des Eaux " was over. And grand it was beyond any con- 
 ception I had of the possibilities of human skill in that direction. 
 
 On August 2nd Mr. and Mrs. Giles and their son left France. The 
 credentials from our Government had not yet arrived, and the interim 
 was spent in England and in travel upon the Continent. On the 1th 
 of August Mr. Giles preached for Mr. Presland in London. August 10th 
 finds him in Manchester. On the 12th the English Conference which 
 he attended met. During his stay in Paisley Mr. Giles spoke in the 
 Town Hall to a crowded audience. Everywhere he went there were 
 many social gatherings at which the English friends vied with one 
 another in their expressions of cordial welcome. 
 
 He visited Glasgow and Edinburgh, and by August 29th had sailed 
 for Antwerp. The three travelers visited the Cologne Cathedral and 
 much enjoyed a day's sail on the Rhine. After a short stay in Strass- 
 burg they went to Switzerland. Lucerne and the Rhigi were revisited, 
 also Meiringen, Interlaken, Lauterbrunnen, Berne, and Geneva. 
 
 Wherever Mr. Giles went the church in Paris, for whose well-being 
 he had come to Europe, was uppermost in his thoughts. 
 
 On September 5th he writes to Miss Holmes from Lucerne: 
 
 Please to let me know as early as possible when M. Chevrier will 
 be in Paris, that I may not fail to meet him. I will come immediately 
 if necessary. 
 
 I think it would be well, if possible, to have a meeting of all the 
 New Church people who can be got together when M. Chevrier arrives, 
 and organize some kind of a general society for the propagation of the 
 doctrines in France. 
 
 Two days later he writes : 
 
 -"€f 300 }§«"-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 I am glad M. Chevrier is in Paris. Please let me know on the receipt 
 of this how long he proposes to remain, if you have not already done so. 
 
 I am glad to hear that there is a prospect of having some one enter 
 the ministry who will engage in it witli his whole heart and soul. 
 I knew some one would be raised up, for when we begin to work in 
 earnest the Lord opens the way and provides men. I am sure it will be 
 so in France. 
 
 I should like to meet Pere Hyacinthe. The Hon. John Bigelow told 
 me he had talked much with him upon the doctrines of the New Church 
 and had given him some books, and he seemed to be very favorably 
 disposed towards them. He may do something in his way to help the 
 good work, indirectly at least. And the time must soon come when 
 there will be just as much freedom in France to preach the doctrines 
 of die New Church as there is in America. I doubt not you will live to 
 see it and rejoice in it. 
 
 By September 20th the travelers were once more in Paris. On the 
 22nd Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 It seems as tliough the English people could not do enough for us. 
 I should be more or less than human if I did not have a warm place in 
 my heart for England. I trust the evidence that I have been useful to 
 so many there will stimulate me to do all in my power for the church 
 while I remain in this world. I wish I could do as much for France. 
 But the wide gulf of language is between us. I never appreciated so 
 fully before the great power and use of language. " Man as a Spiritual 
 Being " has been translated into French, and has done some good and 
 will probably do more, and I may do something for the people in some 
 utlier way. The French Government has replied to our request made 
 tlirougii our Government for liberty to worship and preach our doc- 
 trines and granted it. This will be a great help to the New Church 
 people in many ways. It will take away a great cause of fear, and 
 they will feel much more freedom to work. But New Churchmen are 
 '■ few and far between."" 1 hope, however, that lliore will now be 
 anotlier beginning, and that a permanent effort will be made to 
 propagate the doctrines. There is to be a meeting here in Miss 
 
 -4 301 )3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Holmes's house this afternoon which I look forward to with some 
 solicitude. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 Well, the meeting is over and I am relieved; I do not know when I 
 have had a more trying task to perform. I had to address almost total 
 strangers in a language unknown to most of them, and very imperfectly 
 known to all but two or three of the others. The man who had acted 
 as their minister was to be present, and I knew I must say some things 
 quite contrary to his belief and practice. I knew also that the French 
 are very sensitive to any interference with their affairs. It so happened 
 in the Lord's good Providence that there was a lawyer present who 
 understood English and French very well. I would say a few sentences 
 and he would translate them into French. I could see by the counte- 
 nances that a good impression was being made and this encouraged me. 
 After I had spoken about half an hour I asked Dr. Poirson, the man who 
 has acted as minister, to speak. He took some exceptions to what I 
 had said about tlie best methods of propagating the doctrines in France. 
 I replied in as pleasant a manner as possible, and tlie whole affair 
 ended very happily and I think usefully. After the formal meeting 
 was over they stopped and talked for some time in quite an animated 
 way, and expressed themselves as much pleased. Both ladies and 
 gentlemen took me very warmly by the hand in bidding me good 
 evening. I feel as though a great weight were taken from me and 
 that my coming here will be of some use to the church, even more than 
 I expected, because it may correct some errors and give encouragement 
 and direction to the work which will be of great use in future move- 
 ments. 
 
 It is my creed that when we try to do good from a love of being use- 
 ful to others we always succeed, — not according to our expectations, 
 perhaps, but really, and it may be in a much larger and better way. It 
 requires some faith to stick to the principle, sometimes, but I am sure 
 it is true and will prove so in the present instance. I shall take much 
 more interest in the church in France and shall know better how to 
 help it. 
 
 September 29th he writes: 
 
 -4 302 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 Had another meeting in Miss Holmes's house more satisfactory than 
 the first; more persons were present and a statement of our principles 
 was drawn up and a request to have permission granted us to hold meet- 
 ings. This was signed by all present. It was engrossed on government 
 paper, and will be sent to M. Mercere. 
 
 This seems to me to settle the question about freedom of meeting in 
 Paris. I said what I could to encourage them and to help tliem to pur- 
 sue a wise course in building up the church. 
 
 Called on Pere Hyacinthe. 
 
 On October 1st they left Paris for London. Two days later they 
 went to Birmingham. Here they were again received very cordially. 
 Mr. Giles gives details of gifts and speeches and social gatherings in 
 his diary, but perhaps they are all best described in these family letters: 
 
 Aug. 31, 1878. 
 
 We have had a most charming visit in England. It seems as though 
 the New Church people could not do enough for us. They have given 
 us parties and feted us and tried in every way to make our visit pleas- 
 ant. If my head is not turned it will not be for the want of attention 
 and praise. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Paterson of Paisley gave us a supper to which they 
 invited a number of friends. After supper Mr. Paterson rose and pro- 
 posed my health, and made a very pretty speech in which he stated at 
 some length the use my books had been to the church in Paisley. It 
 seems he has read many of my sermons to the society while they were 
 without a minister. Mr. AUbutt, their minister, seconded "the toast," 
 and made very pleasant allusions fo me and the happiness it gave tliem 
 to have me come personally among them. I had to reply of course, 
 which 1 did as well as I could. 
 
 A busy Sunday in Birmingham is thus described: 
 
 I went to church early and visited the Sunday school. Then I 
 preached to a crowded house and went to dine with some friends; at- 
 tended tlie Sunday school in the aiternoon, distributed prizes and ad- 
 dressed the scholars, went to another friend's to tea, and preached 
 
 '■*i 303 J^^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 again in the evening, and after the service administered the Holy Sup- 
 per. So you see I had a good day's work. I was somewhat fatigued 
 but not exhausted, and I feel as well as ever this morning. This shows 
 that I have gained very much strength and I feel much encouraged. 
 
 To Miss Holmes he writes from Manchester, October 9, 1878: 
 
 I have just a moment to write you a line and let you know how we 
 are. Now we have said nearly all our farewells. The friends in Bir- 
 mingham and Manchester gave us quite a grand reception in both 
 places. They have said and done so many kind and charming things 
 that I cannot be too grateful to them. I am sure I do not deserve half 
 the praise they give me. I am certain the knowledge that I am of some 
 use will stimulate me to be more active and to do all in my power 
 to deserve their good opinion. There were many people present last 
 night and many speeches made which it would not become me to repeat. 
 But instead of feeling vain I am humbled that I have done no more and 
 no better work. 
 
 The poet Wordsworth so deeply influenced my father that it was a 
 keen delight to him to visit the home of one whose writings were for 
 him a stepping-stone to the New Church. My mother too loved his 
 poetry. How often we have heard our parents quote favorite passages! 
 The following account is one of pure enjoyment and entire satisfaction: 
 
 We are now doing the English lakes. We left Manchester yesterday 
 morning and came to Windermere in the cars, and then we took an old- 
 fashioned mail coach which was not constructed solely with reference 
 to ease, and rode to Grasmere, which we reached about two o'clock p. M. 
 We passed many interesting places of which we only caught a glimpse, 
 one of which was Harriet Martineau's residence. Another was Rydal 
 Mount, which I wanted very much to see. So after lunch your mother 
 and I went back and got the best view we could of Wordsworth's home. 
 It was quite an ascent from the main road to his house, and when we 
 had made it we were confronted with the unpleasant words in large 
 letters over the gate: "No Admittance. This is private property, and 
 not open to the public." So we had to content ourselves with looking 
 
 -^ 304 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 into paradise from without. But we determined to get as good a view 
 as we could. I discovered a lane above the house and a gate which was 
 not closed. I entered and soon found I could get a little better view of 
 the grounds, especially of a walk which was a favorite one of Words- 
 worth's. We also had a lovely view of Rydal Water and of the hills 
 opposite. Imagine your father climbing a wall and peeping through 
 every crevice to get a glimpse of a garden and an old house; but if you 
 had been with me you would have seen him in the act. 
 
 After seeing all that we could we went to the church near by and I 
 peeped in at the windows, but saw nothing very interesting. Then we 
 made our way to the rock, "which was a favorite seat of the poet's." 
 We both climbed it and sat dowii. It was too hard and uncomfortable 
 to allow of any poetic inspiration. Indeed, the feeling was quite other- 
 wise. We stayed there long enough to take a little cold, then we heard 
 the coach coming and mounted it and rode to our hotel. We had 
 a charming walk and ride, and I am very glad to " localize " Words- 
 worth, and to get an idea of the scenery which he has described, and 
 wliicli had such an important influence upon him. It is an ideal home 
 for a poet. The vale of Grasmere seems to me to be the most beautiful 
 spot I ever saw. We were fortunate in having perfect weather. The 
 air was mild, there was a soft and smoky haze over the hills, just deep 
 enough to subdue their ruggedness and give a charm to their forms. I 
 am sure there was an influence from all the scene which pervaded my 
 soul. I do not know when I have spent a happier day. 
 
 Willie and I walked around Grasmere and saw what we could of 
 that beautiful village. We saw the house in which Words^v•orth lived 
 before he went to Rydal Mount, and where, it is said, he spent the hap- 
 piest part (d liis life. It was a small, homely stone building in a back 
 and narrow street and was anything but poetical, and if the happiest 
 time of bis life was spent tliere, his happiness did not depend much 
 upon natural scenery. We saw also the church in which he worshiped 
 in early days and in which a tablet has been placed to his memory. His 
 body and that of Coleridge are interred in one corner of the church- 
 yard. We wandered around a wliile and then went back to the hotel, 
 which you must know was the Prince Albert Hotel. Here His Royal 
 
 - •€■{ 305 ]ii>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Highness once stopped and was graciously pleased to fish in the lake, 
 and to view the scenery, of which he highly approved. This of course 
 makes the hostelry highly popular with every Englishman, and enables 
 John Brown, the proprietor, to put on airs and to charge high prices 
 for medium accommodations. 
 
 At half past twelve o'clock we took the coach for Keswick, where we 
 now are. We were fortunate in getting very good seats on top of the 
 coach. The day has been the most beautiful I ever saw in England. 
 There was not a cloud in the sky this morning and there was a gentle 
 breeze, just enough to temper the heat of the sun. The ride was per- 
 fectly lovely. I use the words with discrimination. I enjoyed every 
 moment. We had a view of some of the noblest hills — they can hardly 
 be called mountains. The heather is now in flower, and the famous 
 Skiddaw is red and purple with its blossoms. I cannot conceive that 
 this region can ever be more beautiful or pleasant than it is now. We 
 are very fortunate in the time of making our visit. 
 
 While in Switzerland Mr. Giles learned of the death of Rev. Thomas 
 Worcester. He comments upon it as follows: 
 
 How beautiful it was that he should pass away unconsciously, and 
 that the beginning of the end should come upon him while he was con- 
 versing. I have heard that he had a physical fear of death, as some 
 persons have. He was saved from all suffering he might have en- 
 dured from that source. I was not prepared for the intelligence. He 
 seemed so bright and strong during the Convention that I thought he 
 might last for years to come. How beautiful it was that he could at- 
 tend the Convention and administer the Holy Supper as his last public 
 act. It seemed a fitting culmination of a long and useful life. I have 
 thought much about him since I heard of his departure. It brings the 
 spiritual world very near when we think of the constantly increasing 
 number of friends who are passing into it. It becomes more clearly 
 and fully a reality. We think more of being citizens of that country 
 and of living with those who are congenial to us and of engaging in 
 employments for which we are fitted, and in the performance of which 
 we shall find our happiness. I think of Mr. Worcester as tlirowing off 
 
 -4 306 }>'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 all the feebleness of age and all the encumbrances of a material body 
 and entering witli ever-increasing interest and power into uses which he 
 has become fitted to perform. 
 
 So one after another passes on and helps to form the societies in the 
 heavens and to prepare a home for those who will soon follow them. I 
 delight to think that some of the acquaintances I have made here I shall 
 renew there. There are beautiful souls in the world which we meet 
 only for a short time, and perhaps never see again here. May we not 
 meet them again in a few years at farthest and under far more favor- 
 able circumstances enjoy their society? I have no doubt it will be 
 so, and how charming it will be! It seems almost too good to be 
 true. 
 
 Good news from the church in Paris arrived just before Mr. Giles 
 sailed for home. He writes from steamer City of Berlin, October 11, 
 1878: 
 
 We were greatly delighted to get your letter and to hear such good 
 news of your first meeting. How cheering it is! 
 
 I saw clearly enough that something of the kind must be done before 
 you could make any successful movement in building up the church in 
 a more public way. We all need something more than a philosophy; 
 we must have help in the daily duties of life. We need higher consider- 
 ations and purposes than any derived from this world to help us to bear 
 our burdens and to do our work well. I am sure Dr. Poirson has done 
 as well as he could and the New Church people must feel very grateful 
 to him. He has looked at the church more as a philosopher, and I 
 doubt not his work has been very useful. I wish I could have talked 
 with him; I might have been able by my experience to help him some. 
 
 I am glad you saw Dr. Bayley and that he feels interested in your 
 work. He will be able to give you help, I have no doubt. But I do 
 very much doubt the wisdom of trying to hold two meetings on the same 
 day in different languages. It is best not to try to do too much. We 
 cannot force anything, we must grow. 
 
 I iiave great hope of M. Berteaux; 1 think he did just right, — spoke 
 a few minutes and llien read a discourse. If he pursues this plan he 
 
 -€i 307 }•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 will gradually acquire the practice of speaking upon religious subjects, 
 and by and by he may be able to devote his whole time to the work. 
 Remember me very kindly to him and tell him that I shall be much 
 pleased to get a line from him whenever he has time or fools disposed 
 to write. I can read a letter in French if it is written plainly. 
 
 I am so happy that it now seems as though my coming over will not 
 be entirely useless. The thought that I might not be able to do any 
 good by it has been the only thing which has marred the pleasure of my 
 visit. But I am sure I came with good motives, and if the Lord prospers 
 the little I have done I shall be very well content. 
 
 Mr. Giles's warm interest in the Paris church continued unabated. 
 Miss Holmes kept him in constant touch by correspondence, and in 
 reply he wrote many letters of counsel and encouragement. 
 
 Philadelphia, Dec. 9, 1878. 
 I can understand that it must be a great responsibility for you to 
 have the meetings at your house and must cause you some trouble. 
 Things will be constantly occurring in this transitional stage which will 
 require wisdom and patience to meet. But do as well as you can and 
 constantly look to the Lord for guidance and you will get along well. 
 It is not best to change too much, and it is always wise to be cautious 
 in adopting new things. Occasionally, however, experiments may be 
 tried which do not involve any risk, to see how they will work. A little 
 novelty in our modes of worship sometimes gives a pleasant variety and 
 awakens renewed interest. There should be no effort and no wish to 
 exclude any one from your meetings, as long as he comes to worship 
 the Lord and leani die truths of the New Church and does not make 
 himself offensive to others. To guard against unpleasant differences, 
 I know of no better means than to adhere to the idea of worship and 
 instruction in the doctrines of the New Church. If people would meet 
 only to learn, so that they might live better, many difficulties would be 
 avoided. That is one reason why I spoke so plainly about tlie neces- 
 sity of meeting on the common ground of the New Church and keeping 
 all minor and collateral subjects in the background. You will find 
 great help in adhering scrupulously to that. There are a thousand in- 
 
 -^4 308 ^'■-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 teresting questions which are well enough in their place, but they do not 
 properly belong to a society in your present state. 
 
 I think it would be an excellent thing for you to take charge of the 
 young people. It will do them good and you much more. You will do 
 more than the preacher to propagate tlie doctrines of our church. I 
 
 should think that little book of Mr. B 's would be a good one to 
 
 begin with. If not, you must write one. You see I expect great things 
 of you; I know you are capable of them. Begin any good work and the 
 way opens as one goes along. 
 
 I think you are quite right in taking part in the local charities, and 
 I hope the ladies will join you. It will bring you into contact with 
 other people and will tend to win the good graces of the Government. 
 There is nothing that keeps the soul bright and develops all the facul- 
 ties so well as having plenty to do and doing it. But no good can be 
 accomplished without effort. Many obstacles must be overcome and 
 many unpleasant things must be endured. But tlie Lord is on our 
 side and He will help and reward us. 
 
 PniLADKi.PHiA, Dec. 27, 1878. 
 
 I was much rejoiced to learn that you had finally succeeded in get- 
 ting permission to hold your meetings. I judge from what you say that 
 it is not ([uitc so broad and full as you expected it to be. But 
 it is one step gained and that may help you to take another. Men have 
 come into a freer state of thinking upon all questions of civil and spir- 
 itual life, and that must produce in time a corresponding freedom of 
 action. Perhaps you have all you need now; and a feeling of limita- 
 tion and restraint may not be hurtful to some minds and may be useful 
 in some ways. I like to look at all these things in the light of the 
 Divine Providence. But I should like to know the form in which our 
 request was granted; I say our because you see I regard myself as one 
 of you. Perhaps if you arc iiol loo luisy, when you write again vou 
 will send me a copy of your permission and Irll me didic iKirticulars 
 about it. 
 
 The S 's have always appeared friendly, and 1 think lliev are. 
 
 But I do not intend to put myself into the power of any one. Somehow 
 
 -<i 309 ^■'
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I have no fear of being harmed and never have had any. I try to do 
 my work and leave the results where they belong, — witli the Lord. I 
 have long known that some of the ministers do not like me. But I do 
 not blame them much. I don't like myself very well sometimes. 
 
 I am sorry you have so much trouble with your book room. It must 
 be a care to you; but it may be a great blessing not only to you but to 
 many others. I can easily see that there are decided advantages in hav- 
 ing a general library connected with a New Church book room. I 
 should put much confidence in Mr. Mittnacht's judgment, for he has 
 had much experience, and I believe he is a true friend of the church. 
 I was much pleased with him and was very sorry not to see him this 
 summer. 
 
 Now, my dear Miss Holmes, do drop in and have a little chat with 
 us. We have a good cheerful fire in the grate, my study lamp gives 
 a soft and pleasant light, and we can offer you an easy chair. There 
 is also a basket of delicious fruit, a present from the Simday school, 
 on my desk, and on the side table there is a very large and beautiful 
 bouquet, covering nearly the whole of the table, a present from the 
 ladies of tlie society. Come, you shall share in them all. Mrs. Giles 
 will lay aside her book, and I will put away my writing, and we will 
 have a good talk. Well, if you cannot cross the ocean in a minute to- 
 night, we will keep the invitation open for you and our hearts open to 
 receive you when you can come. 
 
 Philadelphia, Feb. 23, 1879. 
 
 The work you are doing is small in itself, but I am sure it will be 
 large in its results, though it may be a long time before they are mani- 
 fested. The New Church truths are living seeds, and they will grow, 
 even if we cannot see it in our day. All the influences favorable to 
 the New Church are increasing in power, and will continue to do so. 
 They are coming from the spiritual side, from the spiritual world, and 
 they are quickening men's minds to hunger and thirst for them. They 
 are also preparing the way for a fuller coming of the Lord. 
 
 What a blessed privilege it is to work for the establishment of this 
 new kingdom on the eartli. How many women in France have worked 
 and suff"ered even unto death to establish a political kingdom in the 
 
 -4 310 }§^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 past. It is given to you to work for a nobler and more blessed kingdom. 
 There are many difficulties and many trying and unpleasant things. 
 But the Lord does not ask any more of any one than he can do. I am 
 sure you are doing more than any woman in France for the good of 
 the French people. Your work may seem small but it is not so. This 
 must be your encouragement when difficulties arise. It is a great thing 
 to " learn to labor and to wait." 
 
 I am sorry to hear that you have more trouble with your library. 
 I hoped you had made such arrangements that everything would run on 
 smoothly. But why should we expect anything to go on without trouble 
 and much care and labor? I think you may have many responsibilities, 
 but they will all help to make a noble woman of you if you meet them 
 with a right spirit, as I have no doubt you will. It is much nobler to 
 do something and to suffer something in doing it tlian it would be to 
 sit down and live an idle life, and simply vegetate. I honor you for 
 your purpose and effort and I am sure you will be the happier for it. 
 
 The right way, as it seems to me, is to exclude none, to welcome all, 
 whatever may be their personal opinions about many subjects. The 
 advice I gave you at the last meeting was the result of my long experi- 
 ence; and that was to meet as New Churchmen, to learn the truths of 
 the New Church, leaving all personal and external matters outside. 
 Every one has peculiarities and personal opinions about many things 
 which are in the borderland of the genuine church or far beyond its 
 boundaries, it may be. Some will believe more or less in spiritism and 
 socialism, some will be republicans, and some imperialists, and so on. 
 Such differences will do no more harm than differences of dress, or of 
 color of the eyes, if they are not brought into your meetings. Let there 
 be notliing in them but the pure principles of die New Church. If 
 there is not, those who come for some otlier purpose will soon remain 
 away. But I would welcome all who come. 
 
 There must be some ritual. " It is the dress," Swedenborg says, and 
 we need a dress as well for our roligion as for our bodies. The New 
 Church will have a ritual but it will not be the principal thing. It will 
 only be for use in its proper place. But noUiing can be done by force; 
 we must grow into the right way. 
 
 -4 311 ).>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I think it is much better for you to have your meetings at a private 
 house for the present. You will learn to work together, you will gain 
 strength, and there are pleasant influences about a private house or 
 a quiet hall which have a restraining and elevating effect. T think you 
 are doing very well. 
 
 So much has been told of the experiences of the Paris church that but 
 little mention has been made of the constructive work necessary to tlie 
 harmonious development of the Philadelphia Society. Among its mem- 
 bers were many earnest and devoted New Churchmen who, because of 
 tenacious and opposite opinions held by other equally sincere members, 
 had refrained from active participation in the affairs of the Society, 
 so that conflict might be avoided. Some who had come into the Church 
 from tlie Quakers wished little or no ritual; others tliere were who liked 
 a more elaborate service. Some would like to join the General Conven- 
 tion and work with the Church at large; others opposed it. Mr. Giles's 
 one aim was useful work in harmony for the Church. To achieve it, 
 members should unite on points of agreement. Once a common ground 
 was found, to stand firmly upon it and work for the general good. This 
 practical working together proved a most unifying process. 
 
 The first efforts were made in the direction of decoration of the 
 church windows. Then it was found necessary to have a new organ. 
 
 Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 The difficulties of paying for it were not overestimated. The whole 
 machinery and all the motive power of the society were brought into 
 requisition to raise the money. We had suppers and sales, strawberry 
 festivals, concerts, and lectures, until every one was weary of them, 
 and almost of the organ itself. I think the movement was useful to 
 the society. It was movement, and that of itself was worth more than 
 the organ. It awakened a more general interest in the society, brought 
 its members together, and gave them some practice in working to- 
 gether, and prepared them in due time to lake another step. 
 
 Important changes were inaugurated this year. The by-laws of the 
 society were altered so that quarterly meetings were held, and a church 
 committee which met weekly at the house of the pastor was formed. 
 
 Mr. Giles writes of it: 
 
 ~'4_ 312 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 There is nothing to tell, unless it be of a new church committee which 
 meets at our house every Wednesday evening, and which is taking hold 
 of church work in good earnest and I think will accomplish some 
 valuable results. We are now looking over the ground to see what 
 material we have for a good working New Church society. The ground 
 has lain fallow for many years, and I hope it will produce some good 
 fruit. I want to do something here that will stay done. 
 
 Of one occasion he says: 
 
 Wednesday evening we had a meeting of the church committee at 
 our house in which we tried to heal some old sores and do some good 
 work, and I think we made good progress in it. I am pained beyond 
 measure at the little trivial difficulties which keep the members of the 
 church apart, and the petty jealousies, rivalries, and irritations by 
 which tlie spiritual power of the church is dissipated. I have never seen 
 a society yet which possessed and exerted more than a small fraction 
 of the spiritual power which it could and ought to have embodied and 
 communicated. With our grand truths, the very elements of power, 
 how liltlc wo impress the community with their superiority! 
 
 The members of this committee were broad-minded men who wished 
 not only to promote the healthy growth of the society, but had warmly 
 at heart the good of the Church at large. They might differ as to 
 methods, but each respected the others' opinions, and results were at- 
 tained without friction. All of the important measures taken up by the 
 society had tlieir origin here. One of these, begun later in the year, 
 was the weekly publication of Mr. Giles's lectures. Copies of the dis- 
 course of tlie preceding week were distributed in the pews, and those 
 who came were at liberty to take them home if they chose. Tliis plan 
 had already been successfully carried out in New York. 
 
 .Mi'iitiun has previously been made of Mr. Giles's strong love for 
 children and his remarkable success in interesting diem. With a win- 
 ning smile he would hcr^iii his remarks with (|iicstions on some subject 
 of vital interest to cliildliuod. Here and tliere an eager child would 
 respond, until the attention of every one was held. Then step by step 
 the a|)|)arciilly unimportant bcfjiiming was found to lead to some spir- 
 itual truth made clear by illustrations and e.xperiences familiar to tlie 
 children. 
 
 -<i 313 ]^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 At Easter and at Christmas the children of the Sunday school had 
 special seats assigned tliem in the church. The service was especially 
 adapted to them, the music was familiar, and the sermon a story- 
 sermon, which all could comprehend. 
 
 At Easter of this year the first of these services was held in Phila- 
 delphia. Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 We had a very pleasant day. The children of the Sunday school 
 occupied the seats in the body of tlie church, as many as they could 
 fill. Wc went through with the usual service, a little shortened, the 
 children doing the singing with the assistance of the older people, and 
 instead of a sermon I read a story entitled: "The Earth People Who 
 Lived in the Ground." They listened with profound attention, hardly 
 stirring from the beginning to the end. Every one, so far as we have 
 learned, was delighted. The children and the babies and the flowers 
 produced a delightful sphere — both natural and spiritual. It was 
 very lovely, and the older children seemed to enjoy it as much as the 
 younger ones. 
 
 I have long been of the opinion that more ought to be done for the 
 children. They demand " life." They do not care about abstract 
 truths. I think a picture presented in a story has far more effect upon 
 them than an exhortation. And it is surprising what a perception they 
 have of an allegory of any kind. We succeeded so well I think we 
 shall try it again. More must be done for the children. 
 
 Not only was Mr. Giles interested in children as future members of 
 the Church, but his affectionate interest extended to individuals and 
 particular needs. 
 
 To a mother of many children he wrote: 
 
 Remember, there is an unconscious and involuntary influence flow- 
 ing forth from every one, especially a mother, which will have a power- 
 ful effect for good or evil. Heavenly affections cannot but have a good 
 influence, and the more you look upon your child as a gift of the Lord to 
 you, accompanied with a commission to return it to Him in as pure and 
 as beautiful a form as possible, the more help you will get. The Lord 
 will work with you and help you to do the work He gave you to do. I 
 
 -4 314 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 feel more and more like going to the Lord and trusting Him. If we 
 cannot trust Infinite Love and Wisdom what can we trusts 
 
 Herewith is made mention of the new plan for the distribution of 
 Mr. Giles's lectures. 
 
 The subject of my lecture to-night is: "The End of the World — 
 What world? " At least that is the way it is announced in the papers. 
 I am a little curious to know how it will be received, — whether it will 
 be understood or not. The lecture is already in print and will be 
 handed to tlie audience afterwards, as tliey pass out of tlie door. This 
 is an experiment. Some of our friends thought it would be a good way 
 of calling attention to the book, and would enable those who would like 
 to do it, to look over with more care the tliought and truth set forth in 
 the lecture. 
 
 Feb. 5, 1879. 
 
 My book on " Human Stewardship " is done. The plates are made, 
 and I presume it will be printed this week and sent in sheets to London, 
 where it will be published first. But it will be issued here as soon as 
 it is published there. The Lippincotts want to control the sale of it in 
 England. 
 
 Saturday Evening, Feb. 7, 1879. 
 
 I was quite surprised and gratified to find from the Messenger that 
 my article in the symposium on " What is Revelation? " has been pub- 
 lished in the Contemporary Review of London. The greater part of it 
 was written during the evening and morning before I sailed. It is 
 certainly an encouragement to write more. It has now been published 
 in four different papers and as a tract. 
 
 I went to hear Henrv' Ward Beecher last night. He spoke on " Amuse- 
 ments." The lecture was very good in many respects. He said some 
 true and useful things and some very foolish ones. But he was inter- 
 esting throughout. 1 think he is one of the best if not the best speaker 
 I ever heard. He has a wonderful command of language, and he is rich 
 in illustrations, and he speaks with ease and force. He said in his 
 lecture that he had had his share of sorrow, but he thanked the Lord 
 more for his love of nature and his power of getting happiness out of 
 
 —^ 315 }•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 its beauty and grandeur than for anything else. He spoke touchingly 
 of his indebtedness to his mother for it. 
 
 I am pleased to hear that Mr. Seward is getting along so well in New 
 York, and that the attendance is so good. I presume some who dis- 
 liked me will come back and be glad to take an active part in tlie society 
 again, and those who were my friends will remain. So my coming 
 away will be a gain and not a loss. I am sure Mr. Seward finds the 
 society in a much better condition than I did. 
 
 To Miss Holmes 
 
 Philadelphia, June 19, 1879. 
 
 There are great difficulties in the way of building up the Lord's 
 kingdom. Some are more external and some are internal. The inter- 
 nal are the most difficult to overcome. But only think what encourage- 
 ments we have. The Lord and tlie angels and all heaven are working 
 to bring forward the New Age. All that any one can do is a mere 
 drop to the ocean. So we will stand in our places and do our work as 
 well as we can and try to be content with it. 
 
 I used to be discouraged and impatient, but I am not so much so now. 
 I am trying to learn to do my work and leave the results with the Lord, 
 where they belong. They are very small, and yet they help to make the 
 great tide of powerful heavenly forces which are beginning to move the 
 world to its profoundest depths. 
 
 I am pleased to hear that M. Mallet and M. Chevrier have proposed 
 to help you. Let them do it, I beg of you. It will do them good. It 
 will get them initiated into the work, and when a beginning is made 
 there is no telling where one can stop. I can understand that it may 
 be a little embarrassing at first and may lead to some complications; 
 but I am sure nothing serious will grow out of it, and I can conceive 
 that much good may come of it. 
 
 The Lord does not depend upon any one man or upon all men. His 
 work will go on. We are mere atoms in the universe, and yet we have 
 an important use to perform to other atoms. I have thought of our 
 influence and relations to others in this way. We are like particles of 
 matter in a telegraphic wire. We stand in our places and pass the 
 
 -4 316 ^'~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 communication on. We cannot do the whole of it; we cannot work in 
 the future; we can live only in the present. We cannot measure the 
 effects. By your influence and efforts somebody will be raised up to 
 carry on the work in France more vigorously. We may not be able 
 to see whom or how, but the Lord sees and we must trust Him. 
 
 Not only were his counsels and encouragement given to the little 
 society in Paris, but the right hand of fellowship was also extended 
 to New Churchmen in Germany and Switzerland. 
 
 Portions of such letters written on behalf of the General Convention 
 are here given: 
 
 To the German New Church Union 
 
 June 24, 1879. 
 
 No sincere lover of humanity, who has any knowledge of the doc- 
 trines of the New Church, can be indifferent to every wise effort to 
 make them known to any people, much less to a people who have done 
 so mucli It) bring out these doctrines from the secluded recesses of a 
 public library and make them known to the world. The name of Dr. 
 Immanuel Tafel of Tubingen will always be cherished in the hearts 
 anil dear to the memory of every New Churchman for his learned and 
 unwearied labors in editing and publishing the writings of Sweden- 
 borg, and the interesting documents concerning his personal history. 
 It gives me great pleasure to know that others of his countrymen are 
 coming forward to take his place and carry on the work which he began 
 and so efficiently performed. 
 
 We are well aware that you will have many difficulties to contend 
 with. All New Churchmen have. We have our own partial conceptions 
 of the truth to mislead, and our unrcgenerate natures to oppose us. 
 Ignorance must be enlightened and inveterate prejudices overcome. We 
 have confirmed errors to oppose and organized institutions, consoli- 
 dated by the growth of centuries, to hinder us. You, without doubt, 
 will have difficulties to meet peculiarly your own, — difficulties which 
 grow out of your civil institutions, and the powerful ecclesiastical 
 polity wliicli preoccupies the field of your operations and involves 
 many personal and public interests. From these and other causes it 
 
 -4 317 )3.~-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 may be more difficult to effect changes, and the propagation of new 
 truths may require metliods specially adapted to the customs and habits 
 of your people. Of these things you are the best judges. 
 
 We rejoice to learn that you have united for the purpose of assisting 
 each other in this good work. " In union is strength." In union one 
 man has the strength of all for his help. We gain confidence and power 
 and assistance in every way, when the hearts of others beat in harmony 
 with our own and the arms of others are extended for our support. 
 
 The New Church in America regards with deep and peculiar interest 
 every effort to disseminate the doctrines of the New Age among the 
 German-speaking people. It will give us great pleasure to hear of 
 your efforts and of your success, and to do all in our power to aid you. 
 Large numbers of your people have become citizens of America; your 
 language is widely spoken in our country and your books and papers 
 are extensively read. There are many natural bonds of sympathy be- 
 tween us. May they form a common ground on which we can stand 
 while we come into closer spiritual union by means of these heavenly 
 truths and affections which are not limited by time and space, and which 
 have power to make men of all nations one, and to conjoin all with the 
 Lord. 
 
 To the New Church Union in Switzerland 
 
 June 24, 1879. 
 By a resolution of the General Convention of the New Church in 
 America, passed at its late session in New York, it is made my pleasing 
 duty to convey to you the cordial esteem and fraternal regard for you 
 of the New Churchmen in America. We desire to assure you that we 
 regard with profound interest your efforts to make known the truths of 
 the New Church to a people so brave and intelligent as the Swiss, and 
 so conspicuous for their love of civil and religious liberty and so stead- 
 fast in their defense of it. We pray that they may become as ardent 
 recipients, and as able supporters, of spiritual freedom. Every Ameri- 
 can feels an intense sympathy with all wise efforts to establish civil 
 freedom, but our interests as New Churchmen must be much deeper 
 with those who are laboring to disseminate those spiritual truths which 
 make men free indeed. 
 
 -^ 318 }•>•-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 Spiritual ties are the deepest and most enduring. As we rise above 
 the natural plane of life, the distinctions of birth, family, and race be- 
 come less pronounced and influential and tlie bonds of spiritual kinship 
 increase in extent and power and draw us into a closer and a more vital 
 union. We have one Father. We are brethren; we are heirs to the 
 same heavenly inheritance, and we are working together to accomplish 
 the same ends. We have common hopes; we have tlie same joys, and 
 trust at last to dwell in the same eternal home. 
 
 As spiritual beings no ocean rolls between us, no mountains bar our 
 access to one another. Being members of one body the same life 
 flows into us, awakens our aff^ections, and moves our thoughts to action. 
 The love, wisdom, and power received by one can be communicated to 
 all. We need your aid and sympathy. It encourages and helps us to 
 see you working wisely and faithfully. And according to the same law 
 our love, sympathy, and fidelity to duty will help you. 
 
 Every efi"ort to build up tlie Lord's kingdom upon the earth is made 
 in the direction of all the currents of the Divine order; the truths we 
 teach are the principles of that order, and the Lord has declared that 
 His Word shall not return unto Him void but shall accomplish that 
 whereunto He sent it. The New Church is the church of the future. 
 We have, therefore, every assurance that our eff^orts to teach its 
 truths and organize those who receive them into societies will meet 
 with a measure of success equal to the wisdom and fidelity of our 
 work. 
 
 You have our deep sympatliy in your labors and it will always give 
 us pleasure to hear from you and to learn of your success. It will give 
 us equal pleasure to do anything in our power to bring your Union 
 into close and harmonious relations with the New Churchmen in Amer- 
 ica, and to realize in all our relations and activities that we are children 
 of the same Father, that we are engaged in the same work, and that we 
 may ultimately reach the same home in heaven. 
 
 Early in July Mr. Giles again sailed for Europe, accompanied by 
 his son Charles. 
 
 He preached on board the ship to an extremely appreciative audience, 
 and thus describes the occasion in a letter to the Messenger: 
 
 -4 319 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 On Saturday, tlie fifth. Captain Harris and several gentlemen among 
 the passengers invited me to preach Sunday morning, and to give a 
 statement of the doctrines of the New Church. I was not a little 
 surprised at this, as it is customary on such occasions to speak upon 
 some topic about which there is not likely to be any difference of 
 opinion. 
 
 I spoke about forty-five minutes to as attentive an audience as I 
 would wish to address. I began with the doctrine of the Lord, and 
 gave the fundamental doctrines of our Church as well as I could in the 
 time. The statement excited a great amount of comment, which con- 
 tinued more or less during the whole voyage. 
 
 There were many special conditions and associations connected with 
 the service which were peculiarly interesting. We were a little com- 
 pany gathered from many nations; we were alone upon the ocean. 
 There was no human being and no sail in sight, and nothing but a plank, 
 or a thin sheet of iron, between us and the devouring waves. But we 
 were in His care and keeping Who loves all His children, and Who can 
 protect them on the sea as well as on the land. As our songs mingled 
 with the sound of the waves dashing against the strong sides of the 
 vessel and of the wind sighing through its cordage, it was delightful to 
 think that the ear of the All-Merciful One was open to the praises we 
 sang to Him, and that He could distinguish the sounds of affection from 
 the wild and empty voice of the sea. 
 
 On Mr. Giles's arrival in Liverpool he found several cordial letters 
 of invitation to visit and to preach in different places. Of the latter 
 he says: 
 
 I am determined not to tie myself down to hard work on Sundays. 
 I would be glad not to preach at all; but I cannot get rid of it entirely. 
 To-morrow I am going to Accrington, where I expect to preach on 
 Sunday in the morning and to return and preach in Peter Street in 
 Manchester in the evening. This will be quite work enough for one 
 day. I presume also I shall preach in Birmingham, though I have not 
 been asked yet. But I do not intend to make preaching my practice 
 while I am here. 
 
 -^ 320 }3f-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1878-AUGUST, 1879 
 
 Liverpool looked as black and forbidding as ever, and we did not 
 care to remain there any longer than to get something to eat. 
 
 Mr. Broadfield wrote to me that he might not be at home, but to come 
 to his house, — our rooms were ready, and we would be well cared for, 
 and we did as he told us. 
 
 Mr. Parkinson saw us drive along the street and he came in before 
 we had dismissed our cab and invited us to his house. We accepted 
 the invitation after tea, so we changed our clothes, washed, and then we 
 went to Mr. Parkinson's. We found Mr. and Mrs. Tafel from London 
 there. We spent a pleasant evening and stayed until ten o'clock. We 
 had not been back long before Mr. Broadfield came in and gave us a 
 hearty welcome and we sat and chatted a long time, and now I am writ- 
 ing when I ought to be in bed. So ends the day. 
 
 Everything looks familiar. The grass is as green and the sky as 
 dark and gloomy as ever, and the people as cordial. 
 
 From London he writes: 
 
 August 14, 1879. 
 
 I see more and more that my writings are having a great influence 
 and that their influence is increasing. I hear new instances of it wher- 
 ever I go. I must try to do more than I have ever done to build up the 
 Lord's kingdom on the earth. I have had many requests to publish 
 nearly ever)- sermon I have delivered since I came over, and in some 
 cases I have been quite persistently urged to do so. I tliink that this 
 is not a mere compliment, but a sincere belief that they would be useful. 
 Well, we must all do what we can. 
 
 I am sure the people think much more of me here than they do at 
 home. Perhaps it is because they know me better there. 
 
 In London Mr. Giles took cold and was tlms prevented from speak- 
 ing at the Conference. From Paris he writes of his London experiences: 
 
 Paris, Aug. 17, 1879. 
 Here we are, you see, in the jilace where all good Americans go 
 when they die, according to common saying. It is a very charming 
 place in some respects, but it is not exactly my idea of heaven, or of 
 
 -M 321 }•*-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 the oliior place which must not be mentioned to ears polite. But it is 
 very pleasant to get out of smoke and clouds, to see the sky once more, 
 and to have a horizon which does not shut you in like a prison. 
 
 But London is a grand city. It is so large that it takes a long time 
 to get an adequate idea of it. I am not surprised that it has a great 
 fascination for many people, and if it were not for the smoke and the 
 constant rain it would be a delightful city to live in. But with these 
 drawbacks I think I prefer our own quiet little home in Philadelphia. 
 We have a sun and a sky and a clear atmosphere, and plenty of good 
 fruit. 
 
 I have had several invitations to preach next year when I come 
 over!!! 
 
 They said that the meeting at the Conference at which I was expected 
 to speak was crowded to suffocation. Some persons came from several 
 miles in the country on purpose to hear me. I know many were dis- 
 appointed. One lady told me she could have cried when she found I 
 had spoken at the introduction of the American ministers and she was 
 too late to hear me. Just before I came away I received a letter from 
 the Executive Committee of the Birmingham Society thanking me for 
 my sermons, and strongly urging me to publish the one on " Modern 
 Unbelief." I think I will do it when I have time to look it over. 
 
 I was disappointed in not seeing more of the Conference. I was 
 there only one day. I hoped to see more of the ministers and get 
 better acquainted with their methods of doing business. 
 
 -^ 322 ^-
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 Philadelphia Pastorate, August, 1879-September, 1880 
 
 kJoME of Mr. Giles's letters to the Messenger are of general interest, 
 and extracts from them are herewith given without further comment. 
 
 Manchester, August 27, 1879. 
 
 A fair day as far as I can learn has quite a different meaning in 
 England, and especially in Lancashire, from what it has with us. If 
 it does not rain much, or all the time, if it is the kind of rain tlie minis- 
 ter prayed for, — not a minister in England, for there is no need of 
 praying for rain here, it comes without asking, — "a drizzling, fizzling 
 kind of rain" witli an occasional cessation, it is "fair." If the sun 
 l)reaks out from the clouds and shines long enough for your umbrella 
 to dry, it is " fine." This, so far as I can learn from observation, and 
 the unconscious and therefore most trustworthy testimony of tlie in- 
 habitants, is the general character of the climate. This year it has 
 been much worse. I saw it stated in a London paper that it had rained 
 forty-three successive Sundays, and it has kept on doing it ever since. 
 
 It might reasonably be expected that so much dark and dismal 
 weather would produce a corresponding effect upon the minds of the 
 I)eople. One would naturally think they would be as morose, sad, and 
 tearful as the atmosphere. But such is by no means the case. Their 
 minds are bright anil their hearts are warm and sunny, though die 
 winds are cold and the day gloomy. How they resist the influence of 
 such a wet and dismal climate is a secret which is known only to them- 
 selves. Perhaps Milton referred to it when he said in effect that he 
 who has clear light witliin may sit in tlie centre and see bright day. By 
 the "centre " he must have had a prophetic reference to Manchester, 
 which is the centre of the gloomiest climate I know, and also of cotton 
 manufactures. However this may be, the people I have had the pleas- 
 
 -4 323 )^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 ure of knowing have the light witliiii, aiul ihey let it shine upon their 
 friends. 
 
 Manchester is especially interesting to New Churchmen as the theatre 
 of the ministry of the Rev. John Clowes, whose memory is held in great 
 respect and affection by tlie older members of the New Church. It 
 was my pleasure to meet one old gentleman who seemed to be imbued 
 with the serenity and sweetness of mind which characterized Mr. Clowes, 
 and who told me that the last official act of that venerable man was the 
 consecration of his marriage. This brought mc into a more living 
 connection witli him, and helped me to realize his personality. 
 
 Mr. Clowes was a voluminous writer of New Church books, which 
 must have had a great influence in their day. Though he retained his 
 connection witli the Church of England he went into the country round 
 about, like his Master of old, teaching in the villages and sowing the 
 good seed of the new kingdom. And the fruits of his labors have been 
 very abundant. The seed he sowed has grown and become the nucleus 
 of many flourishing societies in the neighboring towns. Manchester is 
 probably the centre of a larger New Church population than any city 
 in England, and perhaps in the world. Many of the societies have 
 houses of worship of their own, and some of them very good ones. 
 Others are old and rather primitive in their style of architecture and 
 arrangements for worship. But they will soon be changed for more 
 commodious and beautiful edifices when the times are a little brighter. 
 There are many earnest and intelligent men and women among the 
 members of the church, and they will not permit its external wants 
 to be long neglected. 
 
 While staying in Manchester, among dieir many attentions and un- 
 remitting kindnesses my friends procured a seat for me on the platfonn 
 at a political meeting held by the Liberal party on the Greek question, 
 which is now exciting much interest in England. I was much pleased 
 to have an opportunity to see a large meeting of the people and to ob- 
 serve the methods of conducting it, and the general spirit and manner 
 of expressing their sentiments. The meeting was very large and en- 
 thusiastic but perfectly orderly. It was estimated that there were five 
 thousand persons present. I have heard of houses being "packed," 
 
 -^ 324 }^. -
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 but I never knew the meaning of the word before. There was not a 
 spot unoccupied on which a man could sit or stand. They were crowded 
 and squeezed together so compactly that only human faces were visible. 
 It was an audience of heads and faces, and they were good faces too, 
 which had brains behind them. 
 
 I could not but think that these were the men to whom England owes 
 her wealth, power, and greatness, far more than to her kings and 
 queens and aristocracy. Here were the giants who had laid every 
 clime under contribution to increase their wealth; the soldiers of in- 
 dustry whose peaceful victories are blessing the world. 
 
 The hall was full long before the time for the speaking to commence. 
 The interim was occupied in singing patriotic songs, accompanied by 
 a grand organ. When the people were familiar with the words and 
 music the effect was truly grand and soul-stirring. As the men who 
 were to take part in the proceedings, and who were well known to the 
 people, came in, tliey were greeted with loud cheers. But the cheering 
 reached its climax when Jacob Bright and Lord Rosebery appeared. 
 Hands and hats were flying in the air and the great hall echoed with the 
 wild and almost deafening shouts of five thousand stentorian voices. 
 
 The business of the meeting was conducted very much as it would be 
 in America. The chairman introduced the subject by some appropriate 
 remarks, and Jacob Bright, the brother of John Bright, and a member 
 of Parliament, moved tlie resolution and made a calm and lucid speech 
 of half an hour. Lord Rosebery, however, was the principal speaker 
 and the great attraction. He spoke about an hour and spoke well. He 
 delivered some good hits against the government which were always 
 received with hearty applause. He spoke readily, but not fluently, nor 
 with the earnestness which carried the impression that he was advocat- 
 ing a very important cause. 
 
 Other men followed who spoke well, but the climax had been reached 
 and the audience began gradually to disperse. 1 did not remain to the 
 end. The air was stifling and I was glad to escape from the hall, even 
 into the rain. But I was much pleased to attend a meeting of the kind. 
 It afi^ords a good occasion to learn the character of a people, and to 
 see the drift of public sentiment, which is sure in die end to prevail. 
 
 -4 325 }3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Birmingham, September 24, 1879. 
 
 Birmingham is situated nearly in the centre of England. Politically 
 it is the country's most radical city and takes the lead in all the great 
 questions of political reform. 
 
 Rowland Hill, who introduced cheap postage, Joseph Priestley, the 
 discoverer of oxygen and many other gases, and James Watt, the dis- 
 coverer of the power of steam and the inventor of the steam engine, were 
 all natives of Birmingham, and statues to their honor adorn the city. 
 
 The first house dedicated to the worship of the Lord Jesus Christ was 
 erected in Birmingham. Services are still held in it, though it has 
 passed out of the hands of New Church people. 
 
 The membership of the Church in Birmingham is in some respects 
 quite peculiar. The society is more like a large family than any I 
 have ever seen. The active and influential members are related by 
 marriage or otherwise, and many of the families live in little groups 
 near each other so that they are brought into very intimate social con- 
 tact. The yoimg people, of whom diere are large numbers in proportion 
 to the size of the society, give life and freshness to its social intercourse, 
 and find such ample means for amusement and intellectual culture 
 among tliemselves that they have but little inclination to go outside of 
 their own circle for their pleasures. 
 
 The society is fortunate in another respect. Its leading members are 
 on about the same social level. Tliey are intelligent and active busi- 
 ness men who have accumulated a sufficient amount of money to give 
 their children a good education, and to provide their families with com- 
 fortable and even beautiful homes. This social equality is a great 
 advantage. 
 
 The friends of the New Church in Birmingham seem to have all the 
 elements and means necessary to a society of great and increasing power. 
 They have a large number of young men and women who have grovm 
 up under the influence of the Church; they have some veterans in the 
 work of the Church who are still strong and active, and a house of wor- 
 ship sufficiently beautiful to satisfy a cultivated taste, and supplied with 
 every requisite for vigorous work; they have a minister in the prime 
 of life who does good work now, and who will do better and more 
 
 -4 326 }§^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 eflfective work in the future, as his mind becomes enlarged by a wider 
 and more particular knowledge of spiritual truth and his power in- 
 creases by experience and practice; and, in common with all societies, 
 they have the glorious truths of the New Church for their light and 
 guide. If the society does not become a great and beneficent spiritual 
 force in Birmingham it will be from ignorance of its advantages and 
 dereliction in duty. 
 
 I had thought of Birmingham only as a great and gloomy manufac- 
 turing town. But I foimd it famous as the home of men who have been 
 the benefactors of humanity and the centres of principles of civil and 
 religious freedom which must ultimately prevail. I found also a 
 society of the New Church which in some important respects seemed 
 to me to be as homogeneous and well equipped for work as any I had 
 ever seen. I went there, as I supposed, a stranger, and I found myself 
 among friends who welcomed me in the most cordial manner, and did 
 everything in their power to make me feel at home and to make my 
 visit delightful. But this has been done everywhere in England and 
 Scotland, and there is no ground for any invidious distinctions. I 
 shall always remember my visits with deep pleasure, and feel that 
 I have been enriched by the acquaintances and friends I have made. 
 
 LONDO.N, October 1, 1879. 
 
 It is well known that Swedenborg visited London several times, pub- 
 lished some of his most important works there, and died in that city. 
 The first society of the New Church was formed in London, and the 
 earliest organized efforts to propagate llie doctrines of die new age 
 were made there. It seems peculiarly appropriate that those truths 
 which are the central principles of a new step in the life of humanity, 
 should first be systematically propagated from the financial and intel- 
 lectual centre of the world. 
 
 There are now eight societies of the New Church in London, the most 
 important ofwhich are the Argyle Square, Camberwell, Camden Road, 
 and Kensington. 
 
 The society in Argyle Square, from which it takes its name, is more 
 nearly in die centre of London than the oUiers, being near King's Cross 
 
 --4 327 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 and the stations of the three great nortliern railways. The Rev. John 
 Presland is its minister. He is in the prime of life, is a ready and im- 
 pressive speaker, and a hard worker. He succeeded Dr. Bayley, who 
 left it to build up a society at Kensington. Dr. Bayley took a large 
 niimlu-r of the society with him. and it is the best evidence of Mr. Pres- 
 land's ability, energy, and wisdom, that the membership is now as large 
 as it was before Dr. Bayley left. It contains many intelligent and in- 
 fluential members who are active in the work of the church, and in all 
 the efforts to propagate the new truths. 
 
 Dr. Bayley, who is probably belter kno^\Ti in tliis country than any 
 other New Church minister in London, has built up the flourishing and 
 powerful society of Kensington, in die West End of London. He is the 
 author of many works which have had a wide circulation in this country 
 as well as in his own. He is a ready and forcible extempore speaker, 
 quotes largely from the Word and the hpiin book in his discourses, and 
 though seventy years of age is foremost and active in all church work. 
 May it be many years before he will finish his share of it in this world. 
 I have very little personal knowledge of the members of his society 
 and therefore cannot speak of them. I know, however, that they are 
 full of zeal and energy, and keep abreast with all the movements in the 
 Church for lengthening her cords and strengthening her stakes. 
 
 The Camden Road Society formerly worshipped at Cross Street, 
 Hatton Garden, where Mr. Noble, and afterwards Mr. Hiller, preached. 
 A few years ago the society sold its property in Cross Street and erected 
 a very handsome church in Camden Road, in the northern part of Lon- 
 don. The Rev. R. L. Tafel has been the minister for some years. Mr, 
 Tafel is well knowTi in the New Church as a man of great ability and 
 indomitable industry in the study of the New Church writings. He was 
 employed by the General Convention before his settlement in London 
 to go to Stockholm and examine Swedenborg's manuscripts, and gain 
 what knowledge he could concerning Swedenborg and his works. The 
 results of his labors are the magnificent photo-lithographs of the most 
 important manuscripts, and three octavo volumes of miscellany con- 
 cerning Swedenborg's life and writings. Mr. Tafel has a very interest- 
 ing society, but difficulties have lately arisen which have resulted in 
 
 -4 328 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 the withdrawal of some of its old and able members. As a preacher, 
 we judge from what we have heard from others and from his published 
 discourses, he specially interests those who delight in the unfolding of 
 tlie spiritual sense of passages from the Word whose meaning is some- 
 what obscure, and in a somewhat rigid statement of the doctrines of 
 the New Church. The music in the Camden Road Society is noted for 
 its excellence. 
 
 The Rev. William Bruce, the editor of the Intellectual Repository, 
 and the author of " Commentaries upon Matthew, John, and the Reve- 
 lation," preaches occasionally. He reached his eightieth year this 
 summer, and he says he is beginning to grow old, but there are no 
 indications of it in his writings unless they arc to be found in their 
 gentleness of tone, and the clearness of insight into spiritual truths 
 which comes from purified affections. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Clissold, though in advanced age and feeble health, 
 still uses his pen in exposing the errors of the past age and setting 
 forth the truths of the new. He has never severed his connection with 
 tlie Church of England, though he lias not performed any official service 
 in it for many years. He takes a great interest in the Swedenborg 
 Printing and Publishing Society and has contributed largely to its funds. 
 He gave to the society tlie house in Bloomsbury Street, which is now the 
 headquarters of the publishing business of tlie New Church in England. 
 
 There are many cultivated and energetic laymen in London who read 
 to societies having no minister, and in some cases act as missionaries. 
 Societies are formed for many purposes in which they take an active 
 part, and form a sound and vigorous body for practical work. The 
 ladies also are not in the least behind the men in their devotion to 
 the interests of the church, and in the help which they give to it in their 
 way. They are not so conspicuous in public work. Iml what ihcy do is 
 equally important. Witliout their sympathy and cooperation the men 
 could do but little. 
 
 Mr. Hillcr regarded London as the most important and rniitl'iil field 
 for the New Church. Not so niucli. |irrlia|)s, Imrii the number of per- 
 sons in the city who would accept its doctrines as frotii the fact of its 
 being a great centre of influence which extends to the whole world. 
 
 -*i 329 )•♦ -
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 \^niat is (lone there is in an important sense done everywhere. Our 
 friends, therefore, have every encouragement to do true and faithful 
 work in building up strong and active societies with wide sympathies 
 and comprehensive principles, that there may be a vigorous and gener- 
 ous heart for the great body of humanity which comes within the sphere 
 of its influence. 
 
 One entire letter, dated October 29, 1879, gives a biographical sketch 
 of the great Frenchman, M. Le Boys des Guays. Space will only per- 
 mit us to mention the very interesting fact of his unremitting industry 
 in the translation of Swedenborg from the original Latin into French. 
 
 In 1&43 he calculated that by translating ten pages of the Latin text 
 a day he would be able in seven years to translate all tlie writings of 
 Swedenborg. In 1850 he had achieved his task. Few men had a ca- 
 pacity for labor equal to his. He took his pen at seven in the morning 
 and laid it down at half past nine in the evening, intermitting his work 
 only to take a very sparing meal and a short walk in his garden. His 
 handwriting was fine, neat, regular, and never bore the least marks of 
 fatigue. 
 
 His devotion to the work was such that he refused political prefer- 
 ment in order to prosecute it. 
 
 My father thus comments: 
 
 It shows of what patience, unselfish devotion, and faithful work the 
 French mind is ca])able. Le Boys des Guays is a promise and pledge 
 that otlier men will do the work of their day as he did the work of his. 
 Wise, able, and eloquent men will arise when the time is ripe ; they will 
 teach the truths of the New Church openly, and will scatter broadcast 
 the works which he translated. 
 
 But the friends of the New Church in France must not sit idle and 
 wait for the coming of the time and the men. They have much to do in 
 hastening the day and preparing the men and the way for their coming. 
 Every age and every man is a John the Baptist crying in the wilderness, 
 and preparing the way for the coming of a better age. 
 
 A comment on the preceding is given in the following letter, dated 
 Nov. 14, 1879: 
 
 -'•€{ 330 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 To Mr. Giles from C. H. Allen 
 
 Your letters in the Messenger have given me real pleasure, especially 
 that in which you so graphically describe M. Le Boys des Guays. How 
 wonderfully the Lord prepares and raises up His chosen messengers 
 and gives them strength to perform His work! May He strengthen you, 
 dear Brother, to go on with your noble work in the free land of Amer- 
 ica, the reflex of which pulsates across the broad ocean and beats in 
 gentle undulations even upon the poor shingly beach of my too faithful 
 heart. 1 think I told you I was secretary to the Anti-Slavery Society. I 
 send you a letter I wrote to the Times respecting outrages in the South 
 and the great exodus of colored freedraen. The facts reported are too 
 terrible, and I am afraid they are true. Surely the noble North cannot 
 justify or approve such acts. Will you kindly tell me how tar they 
 are known in the North and what steps are taken to put a stop to such 
 enormities. I suppose this feeling against the Democrats is partly 
 owing to the bad conduct of the Southerners. Would it not be well to 
 have Grant back again? They tell us he kept the South in order and 
 protected the negro. Your views on the subject will be much prized 
 by me, for I am anxious only to obtain the truth. Much feeling is ex- 
 cited here by the constant reports of these awful outrages. Do not say 
 you will not cross the Atlantic again or I shall be forced to say " I 
 will." I wish I could bring my wife to visit your noble country. 
 
 In a letter from Brussels, dated August 27, 1879, Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 Miss Holmes says I have done them more good than I can imagine 
 by my coming last year. She says they would not have moved a step 
 if I had not come and helped them. She says I can have no idea of 
 the influence of my visit, and il it is an abiding one I believe I may 
 do them as much good this year as last. This is a great comfort to 
 me. I shall go home feeling that I did not run before 1 was called 
 and that my vacation has been useful to otliers as well as to myself. 
 I cannot tell you how earnest and kind and cordial they have all been. 
 
 I have now a little better insight into the peculiarities of the French 
 nature, and I shall know better bow to help the little society. Well, it 
 is pleasant to know we can help others. 
 
 -<{ 331 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 To Miss Holmes 
 
 Birmingham, Aug. 30, 1879. 
 
 I am sorry you cannot make things go to suit you better, but you must 
 not be too impatient. Do what you can without worry and do not be 
 too anxious or too much disheartened if the church does not move along 
 as fast as you could desire. It will succeed. We will do what we can 
 and leave results with the Lord. The work you have already done will 
 have a great influence, and diat will continue even if you should not be 
 able to do any more. But you will be, and when you are as old as 
 I am you will see the greatest changes. So, my dear child, be patient 
 and take some comfort, and be thankful that the Lord has given you the 
 means and the will to do as much as you have done. Am I scolding 
 you? Not in the least. I want to comfort, strengthen, and help you. 
 
 How many times I have wished I could speak French. I should be 
 so much pleased to address your people. But I cannot, and so I must 
 be content to let others do it. If I could speak I should have been with 
 you before diis, doing what I could to help forward the Second Coming 
 among the French people. 
 
 On the lionieward voyage the steamer on wliich Mr. Giles sailed 
 struck a Norwegian barque loaded with sugar and cut her in two, one 
 part going one side of the steamer and the other the other side. Tlie 
 steamer was stopped and backed, and the boats were lowered in an in- 
 credibly short space of time. The forward part of the vessel went down 
 immediately with five sailors who were asleep in her. The after part 
 floated a wliile and die boats soon rescued the men who were on it, and 
 the captain, who was clinging to a spar. The boats were back in an 
 hour and the steamer was under motion again. Five men were saved 
 and five lost. 
 
 This accident created much excitement on board the ship and was the 
 theme of conversation during the remainder of the voyage. Much sym- 
 pathy was felt for the unfortunates, and subscriptions were taken up 
 for the benefit of the rescued seamen. 
 
 September 8th. the wedding anniversary which brought to my mother 
 so many beautiful letters, occurred during this voyage. My father's 
 Uioughts were homeward bound to her who was the centre of his home, 
 and are thus, in part, expressed: 
 
 -4 332 )§—
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 It is a lovely day, the most lovely we have enjoyed since we left 
 Europe. The ocean is at rest. The sun shines out from the clear blue 
 heavens and the waters sparkle and glow with his reflected rays. Where 
 it is not bright it is "darkly, deeply, beautifully blue;" I have never 
 seen such a day upon the ocean. We are nearing home. Already the 
 influence of the land in which our home lies is distinctly perceptible. 
 May it be a true omen of our own life. May it grow brighter and more 
 peaceful toward its close, and may we feel more and more distinctly the 
 pure and lovely sphere of heavenly influences which constantly flow 
 forth from the bright homes toward which we are hastening and in 
 which we hope forever to rest. 
 
 After his arrival he writes from Philadelphia, October 2, 1879: 
 
 I am going to Ithaca Saturday to preach on Sunday before the profes- 
 sors and students of Cornell University. I think your mother wiU go 
 with me. She has had an invitation from the president, and I think 
 it will be a pleasant trip for her. I have been trying to write two ser- 
 mons for the occasion and am now in sight of the end of the last one. 
 
 'D' 
 
 Miss Holmes has married a M. Charles Humann, and Mr. Giles's 
 letters are now addressed to her new name. 
 
 To Mme. Humann 
 
 Philadelphia, Dec. 16, 1879. 
 The New Church in relation to the old is like a little sprout just out 
 of the ground compared witli the mighty trunk of a tree which has been 
 centuries in growing but which is now dead. It can grow no more and 
 must become constantly weaker, while the sapling, weak in itself, is 
 constantly gaining strength, and in the case of the New Church is a tree 
 of life which will continue to grow forever, bearing all manner of 
 good fruit, and whose leaves, even, will have power to heal the nations. 
 I do not doubt that a hall uill in' a better place for meeting than a 
 private dwelling. You will get a larger number of hearers and be 
 more likely to find those who will receive the doctrines and whose 
 hearts will be animated by tliem. Go on witli tlie good work. Let 
 
 -^ 333 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 nolliing discourage you. You will gain some measure of success and 
 you will be preparing the way for still greater success in the future. 
 M. Humann will become more interested in it and be able to perform a 
 constantly enlarging use. 
 
 The following letters describe an episode in the life of the Philadel- 
 phia Society which had far-reaching consequences: 
 
 Nov. 10, 1879. 
 We are having quite an exciting time here in the New Church. We 
 applied for the hall of the Young Men's Christian Association for lec- 
 tures and were refused on the ground that we are not Evangelical. The 
 papers got hold of it, and they have made it very warm for the 
 Y. M. C. A. Dr. Magoon, a Baptist minister, came to me and offered 
 us his church. His offer, made in writing, and my reply, were pub- 
 lished in all tlie papers and became quite a general topic of conversa- 
 tion. The result was such a crowd last night as I never saw before in 
 any church. So great was the pressure to get in that the doors were 
 finally locked. People stood in the aisles. Every stairway and the 
 steps to the pulpit were covered, and even the organ loft was crowded. 
 Dr. Magoon sat with me in the pulpit and took part in the services. He 
 introduced me very handsomely. I spoke about an hour on " Spiritual 
 Death: its Nature, Origin, Delights and Torments," and though it was 
 very sultry and the house was so closely packed, I held the attention 
 to the last. I stand it very well. 
 
 Philadelphia, Nov. 12, 1879. 
 
 I enclose a report of the meeting Sunday night. How the man knew 
 that I had written over a hundred books I do not know. With that ex- 
 ception the account is very good. It was estimated by one gentleman 
 who stood outside that two thousand people came who could not get 
 seats and went away. There was a stream of people coming and going 
 for forty minutes after there was not standing room in the house. I do 
 not flatter myself that they came to hear me or from any love for the 
 New Church ; I suppose they came from curiosity, 
 
 I think it will be useful to our people. It will stimulate them to 
 
 -4 334 ^'~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 greater activity and give them more hope. It will call the attention of 
 the people to our church and may lead some to embrace our doctrines. 
 If it does not accomplish that, it will have some effect in allaying preju- 
 dice and showing people that we are not wild fanatics. The papers 
 gave very full reports of the lecture, and that also will help. 
 
 In all this matter I think we stand very well in die estimation of the 
 community. It is the general opinion that we have pursued a wise and 
 honorable course, and I am sure we shall gain by it, if we are not too 
 much elated and do some foolish thing which will cause a reaction, and 
 I do not think we shall. 
 
 From Chauncey Giles to his Daughter 
 
 Philadelphia, Nov. 16, 1879. 
 
 I preached on " What is Evangelical Religion," and it was the pur- 
 pose not only to define it, but to show that the New Church is Evan- 
 gelical. I had good attention and I think it probable that the sermon 
 will be published. I found there was so much interest in knowing some- 
 thing about us that it seemed to me it would be wise to change my sub- 
 ject from that announced in the Manual, and take one more especially 
 adapted to what seemed to be a point of interest in the public mind. 
 
 I do not know what we shall do after to-night. We may either hire 
 St. George's Hall or go back to our own church. We do not propose 
 to go to Dr. Magoon's church again, though he has offered it to us. It 
 might embarrass him in some way, and tliis we should be very sorry to 
 do. We will do the best we can and leave the results where they belong. 
 
 Philadelphia, Sunday evening, Eleven o'clock, 1879. 
 
 We had the same crowd to-night. People were going away when we 
 came, and that was some minutes before the time for service. Every 
 particle of space was occupied and many went away. A great crowd 
 gathered in the street before the doors were opened. 
 
 But the best of all was the address of Dr. Magoon before I com- 
 menced. He said he was out among the crowd before the doors were 
 opened, listening to the remarks, when a young man asked if I was 
 going to be there to-night. Wlien assured tliat I was, he said, " Those 
 
 -4 335 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 people don't believe in die Bible, do they?" "What makes you think 
 so? " Dr. Magoon said. " Some man told me so," he replied. 
 
 Then Dr. Magoon went on and said it was very strange that a people 
 should be so misunderstood. He said we were remarkable for two 
 things in particular, — our belief in the sole and absolute Divinity of 
 Jesus Christ and in the inspiration of the Bible. He spoke particularly 
 of our belief in the Bible, referred to Noble's " Plenary Inspiration," to 
 Dr. Bayley's works, those of Professor Parsons and the " True Chris- 
 tian Religion," and said he had profited greatly by reading them. 
 
 His remarks gave me an occasion to say something about our position 
 in the world, and the difficulty we find in getting truly known. My 
 lecture was listened to with profound attention. There were many of 
 our people present. They must have gone early or they could not have 
 obtained seats. 
 
 Well, tliis has been a successful day in some respects, I am sure. 
 I think Dr. Magoon's remarks will do us much good in allaying preju- 
 dice and as an incentive to attendance at our church. I am very tired, 
 too much so to sleep. But I must try it. So good-night. 
 
 The account is continued as follows: 
 
 Monday the Baptist minsters hauled Dr. Magoon over the coals for 
 inviting me to preach in his pulpit, and they had quite a lively debate 
 upon the subject. Of course my name is coupled with the Doctor's and 
 the papers comment upon the remarks. Two weeks ago the National 
 Baptist, a weekly paper published by the Baptists, had a very false 
 and specious article under the title, "Swedenborg, — What Did He 
 Teach? " I have replied to it, but I do not know whether the editor will 
 admit it or not. 
 
 When Dr. Magoon was arraigned by the Conference of Baptist Min- 
 isters he addressed them as follows: 
 
 " Now, brethren, you have a perfect right to form and express your 
 own private opinion as to the mental calibre and the moral excellence 
 of your associates in the Christian life, and if you believe one to be 
 heretical in doctrine, and a Church to be out of order in its movements, 
 you have a right as independent churches to call an associated council 
 
 -^ 336 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 of the same and then cite the offender before the ecclesiastical court 
 and try the case. But not a man here present has the slightest creden- 
 tial to show that he comes hither to represent any Baptist organization 
 whatever. As a ministerial conference you have not the slightest legal 
 basis or ecclesiastical authority, and for you to take up an independent 
 church in your discussion, and without notifying it of the trial you 
 have instituted, proceed to condemn the same unheard, is a piece of 
 stupendous impertinence which I did not think you capable of perpe- 
 trating. To speak back in words recriminating is no part of my pur- 
 pose, believing sincerely with St. Francis de Sales that I would give 
 twenty serpents for one dove." 
 
 Dr. Magoon tlien knelt and repeated the Lord's Prayer, after which 
 he stepped off the platform, saying, as he retired from the hall, " Dear 
 brethren, I wish you all a very, very happy New Year." 
 
 The correspondence which took place between Mr. Giles and Dr. 
 Magoon follows: 
 
 From Dr. E. L. Magoon. to Rev. Chauncey Giles 
 
 Philadelphia, Nov. 4, 1879. 
 Dear Fellow Sinner: If you wish, my pulpit is at your command 
 for next Sunday night to teach any truth you may honestly believe. 
 
 Yours fraternally, 
 
 E. L. Magoon. 
 
 From Rev. Chauncey Giles to Dr. E. L. Magoon 
 
 Philadelphia, Nov. 5, 1879. 
 The friendly offer of the use of your church for next Sunday evening 
 was duly laid before our church committee and was unanimously ac- 
 cepted by them with many thanks for your kindness. Hoping the cour- 
 tesy extended to us may strengtlien the bonds of human brotherhood, 
 and that the truths taught may promote the cause of genuine Christian- 
 ity, I remain. 
 
 Yours in the bonds of Trutii, 
 
 Chauncey Giles. 
 -4 337 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 November 25, 1879. 
 
 Dear Brother Giles: Your kimi favor of the 19th inst. came duly 
 to hand. 
 
 The document to " Broad Street Baptist Church " was read to the 
 congregation last Sunday evening and entered on the church records 
 last niglit. 
 
 Dear Brother, your own generous intuition told you at once the 
 motive that led me to your side, and will keep us very near each other 
 to share serenely the bitterness of bigoted abuse. 
 
 Our names are coupled and commended by generous natures all over 
 the land. Greetings come from strangers, widely differenced as to 
 dogma, but unified by what is deepest in redeemed humanity and friend- 
 ship inspired by our dear Lord. 
 
 Yours in a common service, 
 
 E. L. Magoon. 
 
 Philadelphia, Dec. 13, 1879. 
 Dear Brother Giles: It was my full purpose to attend at least one 
 of your lectures, but am prevented. 
 
 Yesterday was occupied in New York, getting a permit to pass on 
 the dead body of my grandchild. 
 
 Must go Monday to Vermont to bury it. 
 
 Yours in mutual infamy, 
 
 Magoon. 
 
 From Dr. Magoon to a Friend 
 
 December 24. 
 
 Christian courtesy was extended to Chauncey Giles for two reasons. 
 First, every man who does not cripple others has a right to his own free- 
 dom of thought and utterance. Second, personal conviction leads me 
 especially to favor the most open consideration of Swedenborg's belief. 
 Ten years ago I began to get quit of the " Death's head and marrow- 
 bones Theology," and the universe of the dear Lord brightens more and 
 more every day. 
 
 Early in January, 1880, Mr. Giles received the following letter from 
 Dr. Magoon. It closes the correspondence between the two clergymen. 
 
 -^ 338 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 As an instance of cooperative Christianity irrespective of creed it is 
 well worthy of preservation. 
 
 Thanks for your kind letter this morning received. When you write 
 Dr. Bayley please thank him for the lesson of good nature I took from 
 his example at Brighton, when badgered by the bigots there. If he will 
 " come over " he shall be " heretic " No. 2 in my pulpit. 
 
 As it is, letters from the first people, near and remote, prove that you 
 and your " Fellow Sinner " are more loved than ever. Is not tliat better 
 for us, and for the dear Lord's kingdom, than any polemic triumph? 
 
 Thanks to Providence for personal acquaintance and cooperative 
 faith. 
 
 Dr. Magoon's generous Christianity, and the publicity brought to 
 the church through mention of the incident by the newspapers, were of 
 inestimable value in drawing the attention of Philadelphians to the New 
 Church and her doctrines. For eleven weeks of that winter Mr. Giles 
 spoke to crowded houses. The general topic of the first series of 
 discourses was tlie " Garden of Eden," with subdivisions on the " Origin 
 of Evil," etc. 
 
 The second series began with the sermon " Wlio Was Jesus Christ? " 
 followed by " How Does He Save Men? " " The Death of Christ," and 
 "The Blood of Christ." 
 
 Mr. Giles writes : 
 
 The trustees have placed seats on hinges at the end of every slip, 
 which gives us about sixty more sittings. These were mostly occupied 
 this morning. 
 
 The society has commenced publishing my sermons every week. 
 The sermon I preached two weeks ago, " Who Was Jesus Christ? " was 
 distributed after service last Sunday. Seven hundred and seventy-five 
 copies were taken, and since then many more have been called for, so 
 that more llian a tliousand have been distributed. Eight hundred were 
 taken to-day and there were many calls, which could not be met, for the 
 first sermon. Tliere seems to be a very lively interest in tlie work. 
 The young men who act as librarians are kept very busy before and 
 after service, giving out and receiving books. Some persons who can- 
 not come to church send by others for the sermons. So you see I am 
 
 -4 339 }^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 having a large audience, and il does my soul good to know that the 
 Lord has given me power to feed many hungry souls. 
 
 We have about seventy-five thousand dollars towards a new church, 
 which I hope to see erected before 1882. 
 
 We have really put into circulation over six hundred thousand pages 
 of matter relating to tlie New Church. I think the people are united 
 and working together more harmoniously than ever before. 
 
 I presume the interest will in some measure subside, but if we had 
 a church which would hold a thousand people now, it would be filled 
 every Sujiday. It is delightful to see such a manifestation of interest 
 in our doctrines. It cheers and strengthens one for more work. 1 hope 
 I may be able to do it. But if 1 am not some one else will take my 
 place and carry it on. I don't know what to make of it. I am sure 
 I have done nothing specially. I expect every day to see the crowd 
 diminish; but instead of that there seems to be a growing interest. The 
 audience is also an intelligent one. The attention is profound, and 
 we see the same faces Sunday after Sunday. So I hope there may be a 
 permanent interest. I have always felt that diere were many people who 
 would rejoice in the doctrines of the New Church if they could get access 
 to them. I only wish I could do more to help those who need help. 
 
 If the pressure continues they must seriously take into consideration 
 
 the subject of building a new church. I told Mr. L as I came out 
 
 of church that I was afraid I was getting the society into difficulties. 
 " Yes," he said, laughing, " you are trying your best every Sunday to 
 do it. Well," he said, "we will meet the difficulty with as much for- 
 titude and equanimity as possible." I should dread such a movement 
 because I am old and it would entail so much labor upon me, and yet 
 I would be glad to see it. 
 
 April 7, 1880. The trustees are going to meet to-night with the 
 church committee to discuss the subject of providing a new house of 
 worship, and I have some hope that something will be done. 
 
 Well, it is pleasant to see a society which has been noted for its dis- 
 sensions waking up and working together so harmoniously. I am sure 
 I do not know how it has been done. It seems to have done itself, 
 somehow. 
 
 ~4 340 }3e-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 The Convention of 1880 met in Portland. The subject of the Presi- 
 dent's Address was " Spiritual Union." By vote of Convention two 
 thousand extra copies were printed and distributed throughout the 
 United States and Canada. 
 
 In July of this year Mr. and Mrs. Giles again went abroad. They 
 landed in Liverpool. After a short visit to a friend in the suburbs 
 of Liverpool they went to Manchester for over Sunday and a few days 
 following. Mr. Giles preached and they attended the dedication of a 
 church at Radcliffe. Dr. Bayley of London was present. From Man- 
 chester they went to Birmingham. The event of their stay there was the 
 celebration of the centenary of the Sunday school. This occurred on 
 August 5th. Mrs. Giles says: 
 
 On that day after dinner everybody took naps, to be ready for the 
 evening celebration, — some on sofas, some in easy chairs — gentlemen 
 upstairs. 
 
 When the time arrived every one met in tlie lower rooms of the school- 
 house for tea and afterwards went upstairs for the celebration itself. 
 The room was decorated with flowers, many fuchsias in pots, also ferns. 
 Everything looked fresh and pretty. There were speeches and music. 
 Mr. Rogers was pleased to say the meeting was twofold: first, to give 
 a welcome to their friend and brother from America, also to commem- 
 orate tlie establishment of Sunday schools. Of course he rather got the 
 cart before the horse, but such polite fictions are well understood. 
 
 Mr. Giles was awarded the honor of presenting the commemorative 
 medals to the teachers and officers of the school and also to Mr. Rogers, 
 the pastor of the society. Everything passed off pleasantly. I had 
 almost forgotten to say that two pictures, one of Raikes' house and the 
 other of the house in which the first Sunday school was opened, were 
 passed from seat to seat in the audience room, that we might see them. 
 Mr. Rabone gave us two copies of the same, which we shall value very 
 highly. 
 
 In our country our Sunday schools are composed in tlie main of the 
 children whose parents attend church. In England tlie establishment 
 of such schools was a movement to give to those who could not afford it. 
 an education. At that time they had not the Board schools, which now 
 arc in operation all over the countr>-. 
 
 -■€■{ 341 ^•~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 In the yt'ar 1780 a printer named Robert Raikes was walking one 
 Sunday about the narrow streets of Gloucester. He became impressed 
 with the many children running; wild in the streets and was much con- 
 cerned to improve their condition. He induced the teachers of several 
 dame-schools to take the children in and instruct them in the ordinary 
 rudiments of education with additional teaching from the Bible. 
 
 From this beginning the movement spread and Sunday schools were 
 established throughout England, at first amongst the poor only. 
 
 .\s every day educational privileges increased, the demand for secu- 
 lar teaching on the Sabbath diminished and instruction became more 
 distinctly religious. The teachers, no longer paid for their services, 
 were volunteers who engaged in the work for the love of it. 
 
 This was the beginning, and from this nucleus have grown all the 
 Sunday schools of the world. 
 
 The New Church people who were pioneers in this work would build 
 a schoolhouse for week-day instruction which would also become a 
 place of worship. " The children of the neighborhood would then be 
 gathered in and taught, and would thus come under the influence of 
 New Church people, and incidentally, if not directly, learn New Church 
 truths. Quite naturally the children are disposed to come to religious 
 meetings and bring their parents. In this way the schools are an im- 
 portant instrument in building up the church." 
 
 From Binningham Mr. and Mrs. Giles went to London. Here Mr. 
 Giles preached for Mr. Tafel, and in the evening at the Argyle Square 
 Church. The London visit was followed by one to Liverpool. Here the 
 English Conference met. They very much enjoyed the proceedings. In 
 the evening there was a discussion on the " Relation of Religion and 
 Science." The Conference lasted two days. They were invited to a 
 grand supper at one house. There were many toasts, speeches, etc. 
 While there they learned that similar feasts were going on all over the 
 city. The Liverpool clergyman was invited to all of them, and drove 
 from one house to another in the evening. 
 
 From Liverpool they went to Southport. Here they made a brief 
 visit and Mr. Giles lectured. On the next day a social gathering was 
 planned, but Mr. and Mrs. Giles thought best to forego the pleasure 
 and return to Liverpool and thence to London. Here, after re-packing, 
 they left for Hanvich. They sailed for Antwerp in what Mrs. Giles 
 called " the poorest specimen of a steamer it was ever my ill luck to 
 take. We did live through the night and found each other in the morn- 
 ing and compared miseries." 
 
 -'■^ 342 }3e—
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, AUG. 1879-SEPT. 1880 
 
 On their arrival they went from Rotterdam to Amsterdam. After see- 
 ing the usual sights there they went to the Hague. 
 
 Their next objective was Antwerp. Thence they went to Cologne. 
 
 From Cologne their itinerary included Coblentz, a trip on the Rhine 
 to Bingen, and thence to Homburg. From here they took an excursion 
 to Frankfort, in which place they much enjoyed a visit with Mr. Mitt- 
 nacht's family. 
 
 After a short stay in Brussels they went to Antwerp, whence they 
 sailed for home. They arrived in Philadelphia October 8th. Father 
 remarks that " It was rather desolate coming into the house which had 
 been closed so long, with no help, and nothing but dust and insect 
 powder to greet us." 
 
 ■-4 343 }3—
 
 E 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 Philadelphia Pastorate, 1881-1886 
 
 ARLY in January, 1881, Mr. Giles notes the encouraging fact that 
 for the first time in its existence the Philadelphia Society was out of 
 debt. 
 
 During this year the sermons on the " Garden of Eden " were pub- 
 lished, and also tlie "Valley of Diamonds." The latter book was 
 printed in England. An accident occurred to the steamer which brought 
 it to this country, and the delay thus incurred spoiled the Christmas 
 sale. 
 
 In May a lot for the new church, on the comer of Chestnut and 
 Twenty-second streets, was purchased. The work was pursued with 
 vigor, and in November the comer-stone was laid. Mr. Giles comments 
 on the ceremony as follows: 
 
 It was a bright but cold and blustering day, altogether too cold for 
 enjoyment, but there was a good number of people present. I handled 
 the trowel, so the masons said, almost like an expert. I believe I have 
 been commended more highly for the manner in which I laid on the 
 mortar than for any sermon I have preached. I suggested to the masons 
 that if they were short of hands at any time to call upon me. 
 
 From time to time the letters note with quiet enjoyment the prog- 
 ress of building, but Mr. Giles's deepest satisfaction came in " the 
 entire unanimity in which every step concerning it was taken by the 
 society." In 1882 the old church was sold to a Unitarian society and 
 the building was used jointly by the New Church people and the Uni- 
 tarians until the new temple for the former was ready. The edifice was 
 completed in the early spring of 1883 and the dedication service took 
 place on March 11th. As the time approached it occupied more and 
 more of Mr. Giles's thoughts. Letters on die subject to and from vari- 
 ous people follow. In his letter of invitation to Mr. Meday, he says: 
 
 We can promise you a cordial welcome and you may see what a 
 small body of earnest and united New Churchmen can accomplish, in 
 
 -^ 344 ^.-
 
 o 
 
 is 
 
 < -i 
 
 'S :5 
 
 •y. ^r 
 
 = I 
 
 — ^^ 
 

 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 one direction at least. We can show you a handsome church and the 
 handsomest Sunday school building you ever saw, and what is much 
 better, some live New Churchmen. 
 
 I diink we have performed a much greater use than we should have 
 done if we had carried on the most interesting quarrel with one another 
 or with any one else. 
 
 February 8th, 1883, he writes: 
 
 The completion of this church and the Sunday School building and 
 their dedication to the Lord will be in one way the crowning success 
 of my life. I do not know of any one who thought it to be possible when 
 I came here. I do not think any one even dreamed of it, but there they 
 stand, an ornament to tlie city and a beautiful and convenient home for 
 our society. This has been accomplished without any contention or 
 difference of opinion which has caused any ill feeling. I doubt whether 
 a church was ever erected with so much unanimity and with so little 
 effort to carry any special plan in opposition to the wishes of others. 
 We have been highly favored in almost every respect, but you can 
 easily see that there must have been some wise direction. 
 
 We have invited Mr. Reed to deliver the discourse at the dedication, 
 and there will be other ministers to take part in the service. How 
 many we can get I do not know, but I should like to have all my chil- 
 dren here, if posssible. I do not know of a better time, and I doubt 
 whether they will ever be able to all meet again. 
 
 To Mr. Giles from Eliza J. Chandler 
 
 Brookline, February 21, 1883. 
 Many thanks for your kind invitation to the dedication of our New 
 Church in Philadelphia. I accept this invitation willi threat pleasure, 
 and shall be with you in spirit if not in body. 
 
 I well remember the dedication of the small church in Twelfth Street, 
 when Mr. Hargrove ordained Mr. Carll to be our minister. New Year's 
 morning, 1817. In a letter of my father's, written March 1 Ttli, 1817. 
 a copy of which I have, he says: 
 
 -<i 345 )ai-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 '■ It alTords me great consolation to inform you we go on in peace 
 and harmony, increasing in number, and our Temple is so crowded in 
 the afternoon that many are obliged to go away. If I could have fore- 
 seen this circumstance I certainly would have made the Temple larger, 
 but reallv I feared we should not be sufficient to fill the house, and you 
 know a large place of worshij) and a »mn\\ congregation have a dis- 
 couraging appearance and effect on the members as well as on the 
 strangers who attend, but the Lord will provide another Temple if neces- 
 sary, and perhaps the circumstance of our being so crowded and not 
 having room for all that wish to come may be the very cause of induc- 
 ing many to be more anxious to come and read tlie books. If a larger 
 house had been necessary, I doubt if the Lord in His wise providence 
 would not have instigated me to have built it at the time, for I am 
 convinced He governs and regulates the concerns of our little society 
 in a wonderful and hidden manner or it would not go on with harmony 
 and peace." 
 
 The Lord now has provided another Temple and I am pleased that 
 my son Tlieophilus was chosen to be the architect. He has expressed 
 great pleasure in constructing this building and I am very thankful that 
 his design and work have given satisfaction. Dear Mr. Giles, chosen 
 and faithful servant of our Lord Jesus Christ, may He fill you with His 
 Holy Spirit and His tender love, that you may be able to send forth 
 the doctrines and truths of His holy Word throughout this large and 
 beautiful countrj-, and may His blessing return upon you and fill you 
 with peace. Kind remembrances to Mrs. Giles. 
 
 Written from our old, sweet home in Brookline, surrounded by a 
 happy family, of husband, six grown children and two grandchildren. 
 I am one of the few left who worshipped in die little Temple at the 
 comer of Twelfth and George Streets, Philadelphia. 
 
 The dedication of the new church took place on March 11th, 1883. 
 There was a full and beautiful service, in which Mr. Giles was assisted 
 by Rev. James Reed of Boston. There was also an evening service in 
 which Rev. J. B. Parmelee of Wilmington. Rev. S. M. Warren of Bos- 
 ton, and Rev. C. H. Mann participated with the pastor. The music for 
 botli morning and evening was fine and both services were very im- 
 
 -^ 346 ^~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 pressive. As my father had hoped, all of his children were present 
 on the occasion. 
 
 April 7th, 1883, he writes: 
 
 I feel very grateful and happy and liuinble. I do not see how it has 
 been done. It does not seem as though I had had anything to do with 
 it, but I suppose I have; I feel constantly like saying, "This is the Lord's 
 doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes." If I can only continue to do 
 my part well I shall be still more thankful. Several persons have said 
 to me, " I should think you would be proud of your success," but I am 
 not. It isn't my success. 
 
 To return to 1881. In June of that year Mr. Giles wrote one of his 
 letters of encouragement to Mme. Humann. He says: 
 
 Visible success is very cheering, and it requires much courage and 
 faith to work on in the face of difficulties without much apparent prog- 
 ress. I think the hardest thing to bear is the indifference of others 
 who profess to have some interest in our work. How much of that you 
 have to try you! Those who ought to sustain you with money and sym- 
 pathy, and good, faithful work, hold back and are quite willing to let 
 you do the work and bear the expense of it. I saw that when I was in 
 Paris. It is disheartening, but it shows how necessarj' it is to have 
 some one who will go forward and sustain the work and who is not 
 afraid to have it known that he is a New Churchman. You are a provi- 
 dential woman, and in my judgment are doing the most important work 
 that is going on in your country to-day. 
 
 I like the idea of editing a paper. The press is the most economical 
 instrument for diffusing knowledge at present. You can reach many 
 minds in that way to which you could not get personal access. 
 
 I think your idea of a house with a chapel connected with it a very 
 good one, and 1 hope you will be able to carry it into effect, and 1 think 
 you will in good time. 
 
 If you can form a ])rinting society do so. Even if it is very small 
 at the beginning it will grow, and societies often live when persons die. 
 If you do form a society, I should insist upon all the members bearing 
 tlie expense of it. It is better lor them to do it. 
 
 -4 347 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Tlie summer of this year was spent at Lake George, tlie first of many- 
 happy seasons to follow it. 
 
 Early in llie year 1882 Mr. Giles suffered from bronehitis. Tlie 
 attack lasted for several weeks, and he was thereby forced to a period 
 of inactivity which he found quite irksome. 
 
 In the spring his lease of the house 3609 Hamilton Street was re- 
 linquished for a consideration to a purchaser. The furniture was 
 stored; Mrs. Giles went to visit her children in New York and Mr. Giles 
 and his sons boarded in Philadelphia. Meanwhile an opportunity oc- 
 curred to buy a very comfortable homelike house at 3502 Hamilton 
 Street. Through the kindness of friends arrangements were made 
 which enabled Mr. Giles to buy tlie house. For the first time in his 
 life my father owned a home of his very own. This fact was a constant 
 source of gratitude. I have heard my mother say that it was the only 
 material blessing for which he ever prayed. The home was a comfort 
 to them both in their declining years and a blessing most deeply 
 appreciated. 
 
 Tlie kind friend or friends — identification has always remained 
 a mystery — who so repeatedly made it possible for Mr. Giles to go to 
 Europe again offered, through the steamship company, passage for 
 Mr. and Mrs. Giles to go abroad. They accepted the offer at first, but 
 eventually decided to remain in this country and spend a few weeks of 
 tlie summer at the seashore. 
 
 The annual meeting of Convention is always the most important 
 event of the church year. As president of that body Mr. Giles deeply 
 felt his responsibilities. The beautiful letter which is in part herewith 
 given, from Mr. Benjamin Worcester, must have been very encourag- 
 ing, the principles herein stated were so fully in accord with those of 
 my father. 
 
 To Mr. Giles from Benjamin Worcester 
 
 Waltham, Mass., May 14, 1882. 
 For the last few months my thoughts have been very much with the 
 Convention and its ministry. I am anxious that our Convention should 
 be gaining more and more of the respect due to it from all its compo- 
 nent members, and I tliink it our duty, each as he can, to strengthen 
 your hands as its present head. With this purpose, please allow me to 
 express to you what it seems to me we are to look for at your hands, 
 
 -^ 348 }Se-=-

 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 believing that the better you know all our wants the more grace will 
 be given you to answer them. 
 
 It is too much the fashion in our associations to regard the Con- 
 vention or its meetings as a congress in which to scramble for what 
 our respective sections most want. The reverse should be the case. 
 We should go to Convention as the Jews went up to Jerusalem, with 
 our best offerings in our hands, to lay them together before the Lord, 
 to receive His blessing upon them, and to accept what is bestowed upon 
 us from Him. We should go with love for Him and for the whole of 
 His Church uppermost in mind and with the desire to submit our own 
 ways to Him and our special good to die good of the whole. 
 
 In doing tliis, it seems to me, our hearts will be lifted up nearer to 
 the Lord and into association with angels who behold His face, and we 
 shall receive interior blessings that will hallow the whole year. I am 
 sure that many in times past have gone to Convention with this feeling 
 and have received this blessing. I am sorry to hear at times other 
 feelings expressed. I know that at tliis very coming Convention a divi- 
 sion on important subjects is expected and more or less strife. Differ- 
 ence of opinion cannot but be met. Yet it will subside and leave no 
 scar if love for the good of all and desire to submit to the judgment 
 of the whole shall only be kepi uppermost in the heart. 
 
 What now can we ask of our president in this behalf? When all 
 were assembled at Jerusalem it was Aaron's office to bear the names 
 of the tribes on his breast, and to go into the Holy of Holies before the 
 Lord, to lay the blood of their sin offering on the mercy seat. We can 
 ask nothing more of our president than that he should, widi full con- 
 sciousness of the forwardness of our hearts, acknowledge our sins and 
 lay our offerings before the Lord, and pray with all the strength that is 
 given him in our behalf. So far as he is enabled to do this we shall 
 see his face to shine with the light reflected from angel faces, words of 
 the Lord's love and peace will fall from his lips, and he will guide 
 our deliberations with the gentle steadiness of liis shepherd's crook. 
 
 Please let this humble prayer of mine, in behalf, I hope, of many, 
 serve to offset suggestions that may come to you from other quarters, 
 of battles to be fought and stem rulings required. 
 
 ~4 349 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 The dedication of tlie new church of tlie Chicago Society was the 
 most important event during Convention. This Mr. Giles mentions in 
 his diar)', and he also makes some comments on what should be the 
 ruling motive of ministers in their work. 
 
 ]une 4, 1882. It was a memorable day for the people of Chicago. 
 They have been burned out and scattered and divided, and now, after 
 some years, are gathered together again. I hope the Church will grow 
 strong and flourish. The house they have erected is a very pleasant 
 one, though there are many things in it wliich would not or do not 
 suit me. 
 
 June 5, 1882. A plan for the reorganization of the ministry was 
 adopted, of which some of the ministry have great hopes. I cannot 
 see much difference between it and the old order. 
 
 There are some ministers who are constantly striving for a low kind 
 of power, — the power of votes and office. They desire to rule as poli- 
 ticians rule. Surely tliere must be a new kind, a higher order of power 
 in the Church. We must seek the power which comes from love by 
 truth. . . . 
 
 I am not a favorite with the ministers. Some of them pretend to 
 regard me with contempt as a shallow man with very little knowledge 
 of the doctrines. Well, I have not a great amount of knowledge of them 
 and have never claimed to have, but I try to make some use of what I 
 have. 
 
 In a letter to a friend my father speaks of the controlling motives 
 which he thought should actuate both minister and congregation: 
 
 It is an entire mistake that ministers are to rule in an arbitrary way 
 or are invested with any authority over their societies. They ought 
 to be able to lead, but instead of going before the flock and leading 
 them in freedom by means of the truth some go behind and drive them. 
 It seems to me that the people are willing to accord all due respect and 
 obedience to ministers, often more than diey deserve, but the minister 
 and people are brethren and there should be mutual counsel and aid 
 and real sympathy with one another. It seems a little strange, but 
 
 -^ 350 }§«•-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 many of the brightest minds in the New Church have greatly weakened 
 or wholly destroyed their influence by the love of power. 
 
 In midwinter of 1882-83 Mr. Giles fell on a slippery pavement and 
 fractured a rib. He says: 
 
 The people have been very earnest in their inquiries about me and 
 kind in attention to my comfort and wants. They have sent me flowers 
 and fruits and jellies and other eatables sufficient to give me dyspepsia 
 for a year. If I should eat them all the consequences would be worse 
 than a broken rib. 
 
 It is very pleasant to have Lucy with us. It seems as though there 
 were many good things in broken ribs. 
 
 I can see that it is going to be useful to me. It will be a rest from 
 brain work and it will give me time to think quietly and a little more 
 excursively. I can go outside the lines of a sermon and a lecture and 
 take a wider and I hope a wiser view. I am almost overwhelmed with 
 the goodness and mercy of the Lord. I have often been impressed with 
 the constant repetition of the words " by the Divine mercy of the Lord " 
 in Swedenborg's writings. We think we see it in some exceptional 
 things, but we are too apt to overlook it in the constant and customary 
 things. But " His mercy is forever." Everything that is good and beau- 
 tiful has its origin in the Lord and is a heavenly force. Swedenborg 
 mentions flowers as one of them, and I think I have enjoyed the many 
 beautiful flowers that have been sent me more than ever as a form and 
 revelation of heavenly purity and beauty. 
 
 Notwithstanding his accident he managed to do some work, as we 
 find in the following extract from a letter: 
 
 PniL.\DELPHiA, January 12, 1883. 
 I am going on in the same olil way. Last week I wrote an article for 
 an encyclopaedia of religious knowledge. Tuesday night I lectured 
 before the Young Men's Hebrew Association. It was a stormy night, 
 but I had a full house and excellent attention. The subject was the 
 "Wit and Wisdom of Children." The audience was greatly amused, 
 and the rabbi and some leading men expressed much satisfaction in 
 
 --^ 351 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 die Icctuir. Yesterday I look die title page, eontenls, introduction, 
 and corrections of my discourses on "Prayer" to the printer. They 
 are soon to be issued by the Lippincotts. They will make a volume of 
 two hundred and thirty pages ("Perfect Prayer"). This is all extra 
 work, so you see I am not idle. 
 
 Extract from a letter to Mr. Meday: 
 
 Your kind letter came with many other voices of friends from afar 
 to comfort and cheer me in hours of pain. I was laid on the shelf for a 
 few weeks but I am about again now, — not, however, in my full vigor. 
 I preach on Sunday and can do some writing, but at my age fractured 
 bones and ruptured membranes do not heal as rapidly as in youth. 
 
 It is as impossible for a society to grow when torn by dissensions as it 
 is for the human body when its bones are broken and its muscles are 
 torn to pieces. I wonder that every minister cannot see a fact so self- 
 evident. Perhaps it will be seen more clearly when the ministers and 
 the people get the beam of self-love out of their eyes. Well, we are 
 poor guides at the best. 
 
 I hope you will make your arrangements to attend the Convention 
 this year. It is tlie centennial of the establishment of the New Church 
 in America. 
 
 From Philadelphia, June 22, 1883, Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 I have been busy in one way or another, mainly in writing an article 
 on Swedenborg for Dr. Schaff's "Encyclopaedia of Religious Knowl- 
 edge." It has been a severe, because an unusual, task for me. I have 
 only one or two more things to do in a literary way before I finish my 
 summer's work. 
 
 In July Mr. and Mrs. Giles again went abroad, sailing directly to 
 Antwerp. From here they went to Aix-la-Chapelle and there tried the 
 baths so famous for the cure of rheumatism. 
 
 On their arrival at Antwerp they found a letter awaiting diem from 
 Mme. Humann. The little church in Paris was nearly completed and 
 she wished very much to have my father dedicate it, but as it was not 
 
 -^ 352 ^-
 
 [«A ^ 
 
 MR. AM) \IK>. (,1LES 
 
 . I bout 1883 
 Duriiiji HhUadelphia Pastorate
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 quite in readiness, he suggested that his visit to Paris be postponed 
 until after the English Conference. This was agreed upon, so, after 
 a short trial of the baths, Mrs. Giles and he went to London. 
 
 The journey to England consisted of a series of misadventures and 
 minor disagreeable happenings. There were many delays in their 
 railway journey across Holland and the Channel crossing was rough 
 in the extreme. However, they were met by kind friends in Eng- 
 land. There was time for a day's and a night's rest before the very 
 busy Sunday when Mr. Giles preached morning and evening for 
 Dr. Bayley. 
 
 After two weeks spent in London he writes from Birmingham: 
 
 We have seen more of London and under more favorable circum- 
 stances than ever before, and the more we see of it the more we are 
 impressed witli its size, wealtli, and power. 
 
 We expected to have been in Paris long before this, but they have 
 met with great delays in getting their church ready and have had many 
 obstacles which were difficult to overcome. There has been a long and 
 vexatious lawsuit about the land on which the church is erected. This 
 was decided only a few days ago, and fortunately in their favor. 
 
 We have many invitations to visit in England which we cannot ac- 
 cept. I think we shall return to London in a few days and remain there 
 for a time. Then we can visit Mme. Humann at Dieppe, or go to Paris, 
 and do as we please there. I do not care to travel about much. We 
 must be in Antwerp on the 14th, and we sail on the 15th, only two weeks 
 from next Saturday, which will soon come around. Your mother thinks 
 I am much better than when I left home and I think she is, so you have 
 two good witnesses to our improved health. We hope to come home 
 quite strong for work. I preached twice yesterday and read the serv- 
 ice, and tiiough weary last night, I feel none the worse for it tliis 
 morning. 
 
 In spite of delays and disappointments, the littli' duirch in Paris was 
 finally ready, and my father was at hand to dedicate it. His description 
 of the event follows: 
 
 Mine. Humann and her husband have erected a ver>' neat liltle 
 church which will scat two hundred people. It is so connected with 
 
 -■^ 3.53 f>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 tlicir dwelling that they can pass into it from the liouse and from the 
 book room, which is one room in the house. This arrangement will be 
 very convenient in the circulation of the books and tracts. 
 
 The church is situated in tlie Latin Quarter. It is near the Pantheon 
 and the great university. They hope to attract the attention of some 
 of the students and professors, but they have many difliculties to over- 
 come, of which we can form but little conception. The French people 
 are under the domination of the Catholic spirit, though they know it 
 not. Some of their leading men were opposed to having the front door 
 of the church open on the day it was dedicated, for fear it would be 
 too public and attract too much attention! They wanted to enter it 
 tlirough Mme. Humann's house. They were afraid tliat it would be 
 known that they were New Churchmen. This is only an instance of 
 the power which the Catholic Church still has over the souls of those 
 who reject her doctrines. There are some, however, who have in a great 
 measure become emancipated. I baptized a very pleasant young lady 
 whose mother, a widow, is a Catholic of the Jesuitic order. She was, 
 of course, violently opposed by her mother, but she was determined to 
 come out freely for the New Church and she has done it, but it must 
 have required a great amount ©f courage. Such instances encourage 
 me to believe that the New Church can be established among the French 
 people. 
 
 Mr. Presland went to Paris to assist in the dedication. The services 
 were very simple. I read tlie service and M. Humann translated it 
 as I went along. He did the same with my address and with Mr. Pres- 
 land's. He then addressed the audience in French. Two hymns were 
 sung very well by Mme. Humann and her friend, who played on the 
 melodeon. 
 
 After the services I baptized three children and two adults. A 
 Frenchman whom Mr. B. ordained, but who does not dare to have it 
 known even to New Churchmen generally, read the preliminary service 
 in French, and I administered the sacrament. This was done after the 
 service of dedication. Mme. Humann's litttle boy was one of tlie chil- 
 dren I baptized and the two Catholic grandmothers were present. 
 M. Humann's mother came to me just before the service and said the 
 
 -'<i 354 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 Catholics recognize our baptism, but she had looked at our service and 
 she tliought we did not say " Amen " after it. She seemed to be afraid 
 that that would invalidate it in some way, but I told her I would say 
 " Amen " after the service. This seemed to comfort her. Tlien she 
 wanted to know if I baptized them witli a whisk. When a number of 
 persons are to be baptized the Catholic priests sometimes take a little 
 whisk broom and, dipping it in the water, sprinkle llie candidates and so 
 baptize tliem all at one time. " You know," she said with some con- 
 cern, " that sometimes the water might not go onto all of them." I 
 told her that I should baptize each one separately. That satisfied her. 
 The administration of the sacrament was witnessed with much interest 
 and seemed to make a deep impression upon them all. 
 
 It was a trying day to me, as you can well imagine. I felt much re- 
 lieved when it was over, but everything went off very smoothly. 
 
 After their retuni to America came this very encouraging news from 
 Paris: 
 
 From L. Humann, Bellevue, Seine-et-Oise 
 
 November 6, 1883. 
 
 My husband continues his preaching and I must say with success. 
 Every Sunday the audiences are triple what tliey used to be in our 
 parlor. Our own people are more interested, and we have many 
 strangers who come in; some new people never missed a Sunday since 
 you were here, my dear Mr. Giles. Some Protestant ministers are get- 
 ting interested; in fact, things look more hopeful than tliey ever did. 
 Mr. C. was saying last Sunday that this public worship was certainly a 
 great step for the New Church in France and one in the right direction. 
 He says he will try to help my husband and preach sometimes. 
 
 But the best is that the new people listen with such interest. Some- 
 times you could hear a pin drop. It seems so new to diem and yet so 
 sensible; we can see that. My husband feels the influence of tliat in- 
 terest and certainly he never spoke so welL 
 
 We feel so grateful to you, my dear Mr. Giles, for all you have done 
 for us. If it had not been for you we coulil never have met as we are 
 meeting now. And the suggestions and advice you gave us are in- 
 
 -<i 355 }■» -
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 valuable. The people of the church in France were going on a wrong 
 track and your inspiration set them right. 
 
 Koncwed in vigor by his vacation abroad, tlie close of tlie year 
 brought many activities to Mr. Giles. Three '" literary lectures " were 
 given on successive Tuesday evenings, and he preached again in Dr. 
 Magoon's church to a crowded house. 
 
 About tliis time the Philadelphia Press began publishing his ser- 
 mons in full. Of this my father said: 
 
 I tliink the publication of my sermons in the Press will have a good 
 effect upon our own people and will call the attention of the public 
 to our church. They will also tend to correct many misapprehensions 
 about the New Church and I hope remove some prejudices. So far as 
 any influence upon the community was concerned, our church seemed 
 to be dead and buried, out of sight, and forgotten. I am trying to gain 
 recognition for it, and I think I am succeeding. If I can get a hearing, 
 I hope to lead those who can be led into the church. 
 
 One Sunday evening a lecture was given in Horticultural Hall, the 
 largest auditorium in Philadelphia. 
 
 Upon all these varied uses he entered with the utmost zest. He loved 
 his work and was never so happy as when engaged in it. 
 
 In the latter part of the year 1883 my father again fell and broke 
 one of his ribs. He was incapacitated from active work for several 
 weeks but still managed to write. He thus refers to it: 
 
 Philadelphia, January 21, 1884. 
 
 Our Church Committee are getting to be quite overbearing in their 
 demands upon me. I don't see how I can stand it. At the last meeting 
 they ordered me to get a carriage whenever I wanted to go out and 
 charge the cost to the church. A stop must be put to this domineering. 
 
 I am getting into the harness again, but have not fully recovered 
 my strength. I contrive to preach on Sunday and write a sermon when 
 I can, but my brain soon wearies. Our services are very well attended 
 and our people feel much encouraged to extend tlieir work. We have 
 a missionary who is beginning to visit the neighboring towns. If he 
 proves useful we shall try to keep him in the field. 
 
 -4 356 }§e.~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 I think we have a very meagre conception of what might be done in 
 giving spiritual help and comfort to many in a society who need it, 
 the rich quite as much if not more than the poor; I am trying to awaken 
 our people to the idea of having a genuine society of the New Church. 
 It is slow work, but something may be done; not much, however, in my 
 time. But it will never be done until we work for it. 
 
 After a long period of dull weather he says: 
 
 A strange phenomenon has occurred twice this week in Philadelphia. 
 A remarkable canopy of blue has spread over the whole heavens, and 
 a bright orb with a clear disk appears in it during the day, and beautiful 
 gems of light, brighter than diamonds, in the night. The papers have 
 not taken much notice of it yet, but people look up with wonder and re- 
 joicing. Have you noticed anything of tlie kind in New York? 
 
 Convention was held in Philadelphia this year, and many arrange- 
 ments were necessary for the meeting of its delegates. The prepara- 
 tion of the annual address was always an arduous task to Mr. Giles. 
 And yet the spirit of these addresses was so filled with love to the church 
 and the wish to furtlier its best interests that their usefulness was un- 
 doubtedly very great. 
 
 My parents did not spend the summer at the seashore, but had a 
 taste of the salt air in a brief visit to friends at Bayshore, Long Island, 
 and before long they left with Lake George as their final objective. 
 
 To this beautiful region for many summers my father and mother 
 went. Through the kindness of some of his parishioners a good room 
 was secured for them season after season at the Sagamore, which has 
 since burned to the ground, but at diat time was a fine, new hotel on 
 Green Island, one of the best situations on tlie lake. They loved the 
 spot and many are their references to its quiet beauty. 
 
 At this time, instead of going by the most direct route, they first 
 visited their daughter near Boston. From there they went to Charle- 
 mont, my father's native place, and after a pleasant visit with the rela- 
 tives went on to Lake George. 
 
 Mr. Giles had many dear friends in England. The .Mr. Allen to 
 whom die folluwiiig letter is addressed was the kind gentleman wiio liad 
 on one occasion accompanied my fatlicr to Germany. 
 
 -4 357 ^'-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 To Mr. Allen from Chauncey Giles 
 
 Philadelphia, January 10, 1885. 
 
 I feel moved to write you to-night. I often think of you and call 
 upon vou, and I hope you sometimes cross the raging Atlantic and 
 look in upon me. You will generally find me in the same sitting-room, 
 at the same desk, and scribbling away in the same old effort to transmit 
 to others some ideas of the Holy City, and give them some help in enter- 
 ing through its gates of pearl. The city grows brighter, more glorious 
 and attractive every day, as I seem to be approaching it. I am sure it 
 is closer to my thought, but whether I am really drawing near to it is 
 quite another matter, for we can only enter it as its streets and river 
 of life enter us. But I am beginning to preach, so inveterate is the 
 habit. 
 
 Well, my brother, how fare you and how fare the wife and children? 
 I hope you are all well and doing well, and are still at No. 1 West Hill. 
 I hear from you occasionally, through your paper, for which I thank 
 you. I hope you are making some progress in rescuing men from 
 slavery of the body. I am trying to do the same work for those who 
 are in bondage to sin, and I am sure I am making some progress. A 
 very comforting idea has been given me. Every effort to do good meets 
 with some success. There! is not that a comfort? I have spent the 
 whole evening talking with a Japanese who is somewhat interested in 
 our doctrines. He has promised to call again. Who knows the result? 
 I do not; I will not pretend to prophesy. 
 
 But possibly you may care more to know something about me than 
 about a Jap. Well, I am about the same as when you saw me, head a 
 little whiter, step a little feebler, limbs a little stiffer, but able to do 
 about the same amount of work, and I am nearly two years nearer 
 home. There is consolation in that. And yet I am in no hurry; I am 
 willing to remain in this foreign land as long as my Master has any 
 work for me to do and wait until He calls me. But the home seems 
 nearer and more beautiful and wonderful. 
 
 There cannot be anything too great or rich or good for the Lord to 
 give. The more He can give the better He is pleased. So I comfort 
 
 -4. 358 }§e.-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 myself. Ah! but to think of being freed from the impediments of this 
 mortal flesh and to go on into clearer light, into more ardent love, and 
 into a more glorious rest forever! Can these tilings be? 
 
 To Mr. Giles from Charles H. Allen 
 
 London, 1885. 
 
 I have been very busy getting up two large Anti-Slavery meetings of 
 which you will see the account in tlie Reporter. H. M. Stanley spoke 
 at the London meeting and it was quite a sweep. 
 
 I have had a busy and an anxious time, as you may well imagine, 
 since the deatli of our beloved friend Gordon and tlie relapse of Lon- 
 don into a state of barbarism and anarchy. The poor natives are worse 
 off than ever and slave hunting goes on merrily. Still we do not 
 despair. There is a Divine Providence yet, although so strangely 
 denied, and we try to leave the destiny of the African tribes to the 
 guiding of that Supreme hand. But it is our duty to use the means 
 God has placed in our hands, and so this society must continue its 
 work until slavery is abolished all the world over! A long time off, 
 I fear! 
 
 We continue to delight in your sermons whenever we meet with any, 
 and my wife was saying only on Sunday that whilst we were at church 
 and she had to remain at home unwell, she had read a most beautiful 
 sermon of yours in " Perfect Prayer." So you see you are with us in 
 spirit through the medium of ink and paper and we can read your 
 thoughts and try to embody them with our own. 
 
 Early in 1885 a \ciry important change took place in the Pliiia<lcl- 
 phia Society. Although as industrious as ever, advancing years brought 
 to Mr. Giles the frequent reminder that his powers of endurance were 
 failing. Rheumatism, a constant comjianion, the noise in his head 
 which 111' liad endured for years, broiuliitis, and the suffering I'ntailed 
 from a broken rib, all had drained his vitality. The ardor of his love 
 for the Church and the wish to imi)art its blessings to others increased 
 as he grew older. Bui he oltcn deplored his failing lueniory, saying 
 that his comprehension of what he read was keener than ever, but his 
 nu'tnory could not be depended upon. There were many demands upon 
 him which a younger, more active man could lulfd, so it seemed best 
 
 -4 359 }3^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 that an assistant should be called. No one could have filled this posi- 
 tion with greater devotion and elTiciency than Mr. William L. Worcester, 
 who, after some correspondence, accepted the call. 
 
 The relation between tlie two men was very beautiful and utterly 
 without that jealousy which sometimes mars the association of an 
 older and younger clergyman. It was literally work in unison, both 
 oblivious of self, seeking only the use of their respective offices. Mr. 
 Giles rejoiced in every success of Mr. Worcester's, and he in turn 
 looked to my father for counsel, at the same time himself working in 
 freedom. Mr. Worcester's usefulness to the Philadelphia Society is 
 well known, but none but the family can know of his filial devotion to 
 my father. He protected him in every possible way from overfatigue, 
 and in my father's last illness shared with his sons and daughters — I 
 am sure he would call it — the privilege of nursing him. Herewith 
 follows some of the correspondence relative to his coming and arrival. 
 
 Letter to Mr. Giles from Rev. John Worcester 
 
 January 20, 1885. 
 William will go as you ask. You will find that he is somewhat self- 
 distrustful in undertaking new tilings and yet does them courageously 
 and well. Also I think you will find that he is not ambitious for him- 
 self, nor for anything but to do his duty, and that after his visit you 
 will be just as free as you are now. If he can do the service you desire 
 for the Philadelphia people I shall be very glad. You and they must 
 judge, and if he is not suited to it there is good work for him to do 
 nearer home, to which he will return contentedly. I pray with you that 
 the Lord will guide us to do wisely just what He desires us to do. 
 
 To Mr. Giles from William L. Worcester 
 
 Newtonville, April 2, 1885. 
 There surely is no minister whom I would rather assist than yourself. 
 There would be no misunderstanding, no thought that the assistant was 
 in any sense a rival, and it would be a delight to feel that I was re- 
 lieving you enough to prevent your work from being a burden and 
 enabling you to give your strength to that which you do so peculiarly 
 well. 
 
 -4. 360 ^^
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 This will at least show you that if the guidance of Providence con- 
 tinues so plain I shall accept the offer when it comes from your society, 
 with the sincere prayer that it may lead to usefulness. 
 
 The following, dated Philadelphia, April 2, 1885, gives the action 
 of the Society: 
 
 Our society voted with great, I may say perfect, unanimity last 
 Monday evening to invite William Worcester to be my assistant. I have 
 never seen so much earnestness about any movement in tlie church as 
 there is in tliis. He quite won the hearts of every one. I do not know 
 of a larger and more useful field of labor in the church than this, or 
 one in which a young man could begin under more favorable auspices. 
 
 Mr. Giles writes, January 9, 1885: 
 
 I am delivering a course of three lectures, a program of which I send 
 you. The subject is '" The Relations of Labor and Capital." We have 
 departed from the " Garden of Eden," and have entered into the con- 
 flicts of the times, and die public seems to like us better, if we can 
 judge by the audiences. We have taken special pains to distribute 
 circulars through the workshops and with some effect. 
 
 I am trying an experiment which I am sure will do no harm and may 
 do some good. 
 
 Since I began these lectures on " The Relations of Labor and Capi- 
 tal" I receive frequently pamphlets on socialism, labor, and its various 
 relations. To-day came a batch of John Swinton's paper, so tliat if 
 you hear that I have become a socialist, dynamiter, or any other mod- 
 em monstrosity, you must not be surprised. I am a litllc curious to 
 know where it will end. 
 
 Of "Labor as a Curse and as a Blessing" he says: 
 
 I likrd llic Icclurc. wliich is a rare thing for me, and I think it will 
 be a useful one. I wish it could be put into the hands of every me- 
 chanic. I could make some points in it better if I had time, but it went 
 into the printer's hands this morning. I think it will give some 
 
 - *i{ 301 ji*--
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 workmen a higher idea of tlieir employment and some people a truer 
 idea of their indebtedness to laborers if they will read it. I was 
 quite amused at the sharp attention that was given to what I said about 
 the needle. Well, you will have a chance to read it and judge for your- 
 self. I am quite satisfied with the results of my three lectures, so far 
 as they now appear. I have taught some wholesome truths which do 
 not usually come from the pulpit, and I am confident they will bring 
 some people to the New Church who would not otherwise have come. 
 
 This is the passage to which reference is made: 
 
 It is the curse of labor that men and women do not find their hap- 
 piness in it. They regard it almost wholly as a means (imposed by 
 stem necessity) of gaining happiness by spending the wages they earn, 
 or in freeing themselves from the necessity of useful employment; 
 whereas, if they would put love for others into it, their work would 
 become the instrument of accomplishing the end they sought. Every 
 stitch of the needle, every stroke of the hammer, every step taken and 
 every word spoken would be in its measure a success. Would not that 
 take the servility, the drudgery, the feeling of inferiority out of labor? 
 
 Two of the lectures of this course were translated into Italian and 
 twenty thousand of them distributed among the Italian people. 
 
 In May Mr. and Mrs. Giles attended the Congress of Churches in 
 Hartford and afterwards went to Cincinnati. With the advent of sum- 
 mer began their pleasant season of rest at Lake George. 
 
 July 31st Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 I am reading such light literature as " The Divine Love and Wis- 
 dom," Wilkinson's " Greater Origins of Good and Evil," and Professor 
 Fiske's exposition of " Evolution." For rest I read some novels and 
 talk some with the guests, but I cannot do much in that way. I rise in 
 the morning long before breakfast and row out to an island, and in the 
 shade of the great trees which cover it I read a Psalm and worship with 
 the birds and squirrels. They sing and chatter and enjoy the good tlie 
 Lord gives them. Then I read something from the Writings until I am 
 rested. Then I row on to another island and repeat the process. I was 
 
 -4 362 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 out two hours this morning and got back just in time to go to breakfast 
 with your mother at nine o'clock. 
 
 The reading of Fiske's work on " Evolution " was introductory to his 
 own lectures on the same subject, which later formed the little book on 
 " The True and the False Theory of Evolution." 
 
 This letter to a friend in England is very expressive of his peaceful 
 happiness amid beautiful surroimdings and is very full of that spirit 
 concerning the New Church which was so marked a characteristic of his: 
 
 ■o 
 
 The Sagamore, Lake George, August 24, 1885. 
 
 As I have leisure now and it rains so that I cannot row or sit under 
 tlie trees and dream, I will answer your letter at once. We were glad 
 to hear from you again and to learn that you are all well. We think 
 and speak of you often, and visit you, though we do not come in a cab 
 or make any trouble after our arrival. We feel sure that a room is 
 always ready in your hearts and we require no care or labor to enter- 
 tain us. I read something about English affairs every day. Our papers 
 give a good resume of London news, so we are kept en rapport with you 
 and move along together. Sometimes I am disappointed when events 
 do not suit me, but I try to remember that they are the best that could 
 be secured under the circumstances, and that whetlier one party or an- 
 other succeeds everything is moving on towards better conditions, and 
 that every step, even though it seems to be retrograde, is necessary to 
 the full accomplishment of the Divine purposes. 
 
 I am happy to say that I am still able to do sometliing. I have 
 preached four limes in the open air since we came here. The island 
 on which the hotel stands contains about seventy-five acres, the most of 
 which are still covered with the original forest. 
 
 A lovely spot surrounded by large forest trees was selecteil, the 
 underbrush cleared away, and some seats procured. A rude or rustic 
 pulpit was erected in front of an immense chestnut tree, and in this 
 temple nut made with hands we worship every Sunday morning. The 
 trees give us a perfect shade. The birds join in our songs and the 
 squirrels look on at a respectful distance in the galleries above us. and 
 sometimes chatter away, whether in wonder or contempt I do not know. 
 
 -*■( 363 )§•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 The service is well attended by the visitors at the hotel, and I hope some 
 good is done in making known the truths of the New Age. Inquiry is 
 made about die doctrines. 
 
 We judge loo much of the progress of the New Church by the number 
 of those who formally and openly accept its doctrines. This is as un- 
 safe a criterion as it would be to judge of the coming of summer by the 
 number of early flowers. One is as sure a sign of the coming summer 
 as a thousand. Innumerable obstacles of which we know nothing must 
 be removed, and this work goes on like the melting of snow and ice and 
 the thawing and warming of the frozen ground, before any seed can be 
 sown and take root. There must be and there is a general movement, 
 or a tendency to movement, in all departments of human life towards a 
 better condition. Humanity is in the human form and a new life is 
 penetrating tlie whole body. Every effort has some effect. You are 
 helping in your way and I in mine. The disclosures of iniquity made 
 in the Pall Mall Gazette are an effect of this universal cause which is 
 operating upon humanity. Light reveals darkness. 
 
 The societies of the New Church do not grow anywhere with much 
 rapidity. Perhaps it is not necessary that lliey should. The minds of 
 men are formed by the old doctrines, and it requires an organic change 
 in them to see and live according to the new, even when they have dis- 
 carded the old. What the external organization of the Church will be 
 I do not know. It is not perhaps of much consequence, so entire free- 
 dom of mind is allowed and we can all see that much progress is made 
 in that direction. One thing we know, and it ought to be a sufficient 
 encouragement in our work to know it, and that is that the principles of 
 the New Church are to prevail because they are the laws of human life 
 in all its degrees, — natural, spiritual, and celestial. So we are work- 
 ing for a winning cause, under whatever form it may appear. 
 
 We are having a delightful summer. This is the most beautiful place 
 I ever saw. We are surrounded with friends and we do not lack any 
 natural means of happiness. The rheumatism which has tormented me 
 for so many years has gone into my feet, and I cannot walk much with- 
 out great pain. But I can row and I find it an excellent exercise. So 
 you see I am being hemmed in on many sides and my communications 
 
 -4 364 ^^
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 are interrupted and cut off from the material world. But, as I am 
 driven out of this world, I hope my mind is opening more fully to the 
 other. It seems nearer and brighter and more real every day. But to 
 come back to this one — 
 
 Our room is in the fourth story of the hotel. From one window, 
 beside which Mrs. Giles is now sitting, engaged in her usual occupation 
 of knitting, we look out on a beautiful lawn which is almost equal to 
 any I ever saw in England. Tlie forest trees in many varieties, tall 
 and graceful, are thickly scattered over it. They cause the most beauti- 
 ful shadows morning and evening, lying in long lines, and during most 
 of the day constantly changing and dancing with tlie light. Beyond the 
 lawn lies the lake. Through the leafy screen of the trees and shrubs 
 on the shore can be seen its pure water, clear as crystal, stretching 
 away for five miles, but interspersed here and there with lovely islands 
 covered with a dense forest of pine, oak, chestnut, birch, and many 
 other varieties of trees extending to the water's edge. Beyond rise the 
 mountains, wooded to the top, but here and there showing immense 
 precipices. Little steam launches, sailboats, and rowboats are con- 
 stantly — [end of letter missing]. 
 
 With the return to Philadelphia the preparation of a course of lec- 
 tures on Swedenborg was begun. In addition were the usual pastoral 
 duties incident to a large society. Once a month a manual was printed 
 which gave in outline the forthcoming events in the church. Then, as 
 all Mr. Giles's sermons and lectures were printed and distributed ever>' 
 week, there was tlie proof to correct and tlie careful oversight which 
 necessarily precedes publication. 
 
 At this time, also, he sat at intervals to Miss Cecilia Beaux, who was 
 painting his portrait. He characterizes it as " a stupid business." 
 
 His correspondence was always extensive and covered interests in 
 many activities of the chiirrh at large. Tliere were one or two meetings 
 of the Tract Society and the Book Association. Of die former, Mr. 
 Giles was elected president. Then there were the weekly meetings of 
 the Church Committee, at which |daiis for the iini)rovement and in- 
 creased usefulness of the society were informally discussed. Nearly 
 every new movement for good in the local church work originated 
 here. 
 
 At one of these meetings it was voted to make application for Uie 
 
 ~.g{ 365 ^
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 ordination of Mr. William Worcester. This rite took place on Decem- 
 ber 13th. 
 
 Early in January, 1886, Mr. Giles received a letter from Paris which 
 mentions that a new translation of "The Nature of Spirit" had been 
 made by Baron Mallet. The translation was preceded by a short bio- 
 graphical sketch. The letter also speaks of some active and successful 
 work begun in France for the distribution of Swedenborg's " True Chris- 
 tian Religion " and " The New Jerusalem and Its Heavenly Doctrines." 
 
 At home the lectures on " Evolution " were in progress. These after- 
 wards formed the little book, "The True and the False Theory of Evo- 
 lution." One of these lectures was given in Brooklyn to a crowded 
 house. 
 
 On February 20lli he went to Washington to preach and to attend the 
 Maryland Association. 
 
 After a visit to Boston he wrote the following letter to a friend in that 
 city. It came into my possession in rather an interesting way. One 
 day I was taking a walk with a friend and incidentally my father was 
 mentioned and something said of the helpful nature of his writings. 
 Reference was made to this letter and I was asked if I had ever seen it. 
 My friend had a copy which was given to her by the recipient, and in 
 her turn she sent it to me. It has since been lent to many people and 
 has cheered them when they were ill. Indeed, it returned to my father 
 himself, for once when he was indisposed I sent him a copy, with the 
 remark that I would give him some of his own medicine. 
 
 Philadelphia, March 11, 1886. 
 
 I was sorry to hear that you had taken cold and were confined to 
 your room and bed. But why should we be sorry when out of it will 
 come some greater good than the pleasure of moving about and attend- 
 ing to household duties and entertaining friends, if we will let it? No 
 one but ourselves can close our doors against the angels and the blessed 
 spirits who delight to minister to us. 
 
 I doubt not they do come near to us when our thoughts are closed 
 against the intrusion of natural cares and turned to them. And as we 
 turn to them in thought and affection, the sphere of their love flows into 
 us and softens the hardness of the natural mind and makes impressions 
 upon us which Swedenborg calls "states of sanctity," which are germs 
 of heavenly fruit, or seeds which will bear it, when we get to our house 
 
 -^ 366 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 in heaven. I have no doubt the enforced rest we find in sickness is often 
 of inestimable value to us. The thought has frequently come to me 
 lately that sickness and the growing infirmities of age are a gradual 
 death, and it is pleasant and beautiful to think of tliem in this light. 
 They are a gradual loosening of the bonds which bind body and spirit 
 together. The loss of natural memory is the beginning of the process, 
 which ends when we leave the body in being entirely closed, so that 
 in our ordinary states of life in the spiritual world we have no recol- 
 lection of this world and our life in it. By such gentle process does 
 the Lord effect the great changes in our life. This gradual change was 
 doubtless much more evident to the people in the Golden Age than it 
 is to us, but the principle is the same. If we could keep in mind more 
 distinctly and constantly than we do, that we are citizens of the spiritual 
 world, that our home, our wealth, and our means of happiness are there, 
 it would alter the standard by which we estimate all values and make 
 this life brighter and this world pleasanter and full of deeper meaning. 
 We should think less of the ills we suffer and more of tlie good we gain, 
 because the labor and the pain are but momentary and the good 
 is a prophecy of the higher and more precious good we shall enjoy 
 in our home. It seems, somehow, as tliough light were breaking in 
 every day. I cannot describe it. The partition walls betAvccn this 
 and the spiritual world are growing thin and becoming transparent. 
 The light of the spiritual world seems to be shining through and tlic 
 objects that lie beycmd are becoming more distinct and substantial, 
 and it is easier to think of them and more delightful to contemplate 
 the life that must open, open wider, richer, and more beautiful 
 forever. 
 
 Then the thought is not so much of going somewhere as attaining an- 
 other state of love and wisdom. It comes right home to me, — why not 
 live that life now; why not make the earthly home a heaven, as far as 
 love and use can effect it? Why not put away from ihouglit and lieart 
 everything that is not heavenly? Why not open the doors, which is done 
 by resisting evil and falsity, and let the light shine in and tlie warmth 
 of heavenly love quicken our cold and torpid affections? 
 
 These questions come to me and jog my sleepy faculties to wake lo 
 
 -•^•{ 367 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 a new consciousness ol life. Life is a constant awakening to some new 
 truths and new good which the Lord has provided for us. 
 
 Not all Mr. Giles's lectures were on religious subjects. In February 
 he wrote " The Good Old Times in New England," the greater part of 
 which is given in the first chapter of this book. He had taken cold from 
 fatigue and too much travel, so was unable to deliver it himself, but it 
 was read to an interested audience by the Rev. William Worcester. 
 
 One night at a Church Committee meeting Mr. McGeorge brought 
 papers which cancelled tlie second mortgage on Mr. Giles's house. This 
 was a gift which was very much appreciated. The benefactors modestly 
 withheld their names, but they could not fail to know of the family's 
 gratitude. How much the possession of that home added to the com- 
 fort of my parents' declining years! Their children are grateful, too. 
 
 From time to time the intercourse so pleasantly begun in England 
 was continued by correspondence. Through the kindness of his daugh- 
 ter, Mrs. Rawsthome, I have the last letter which Mr. Giles wrote to 
 her father, the Rev. Jonathan Bayley of London. Not long after the 
 receipt of Mr. Giles's letter Dr. Bayley, who had been ill for some time, 
 died. His daughter writes: 
 
 June 8, 1886. 
 
 It was a great disappointment to him gradually to relinquish the hope 
 of joining you in your own country. 
 
 My dear father had hoped to have that pleasure for so long, had read 
 with such interest of all your work there. 
 
 Perhaps his powerful sphere can help us all better now, freed from 
 all weakness of nature; and he was so ready, so prepared by his well- 
 spent life to take any higher work granted by the Master he so loved 
 and served so joyously. 
 
 The following is a copy of the last letter written by the Rev. C. Giles 
 to Dr. Bayley: 
 
 Philadelphia, May 24, 1886. 
 Your esteemed favor of May third was duly received and gave me 
 mingled feelings of pleasure and disappointment: pleasure to learn 
 tliat you are recovering from your long illness, and disappointment, 
 which I share with our people generally, that we shall not see you at 
 our Convention. I am sure there is no minister in the Church whose 
 
 -^ 368 ^'~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 presence among us would give such general pleasure. Our people have 
 read your semions and books and have been much benefited by them and 
 think of you with deep interest and pleasure. I am sure you would 
 receive a most cordial greeting, — a greeting that would cheer your 
 heart and renew your strength. 
 
 I presume the Convention will meet in Boston next year, and I hope 
 you will be able to come then. The New Church appears at its best 
 there, where there are so many societies whose members can attend the 
 Convention. Our great distances prevent a large attendance in the 
 Western states. 
 
 Yes, we have many queer people, but we should not have so many 
 varieties of tliem if our population were composed of native Americans. 
 People who come here from other countries think this is the " land of 
 the free," and they suppose that means that every one can do as he 
 pleases. Nearly all the people who are engaged in labor strikes and in 
 the late riots are foreigners. We have found that the most radical, 
 arbitrary, and contentious spirits in the New Church were not native 
 Americans, or were of foreign extraction. America seems to be the 
 place to "prove all things,'" and I ho|)c it will hold fast to that which 
 is good. 
 
 We are separated by such wide distances that we cannot come into 
 such intimate and constant associations as you can, and we all need 
 contact with others to repress idiosyncrasies and keep our minds in 
 equilibrium. 
 
 We watch with dee|) interest the movements of the Church in England 
 and every step in your civil crisis. Everywhere we see confirmation of 
 tlie truth that men are coming into a " free state of thinking," and free 
 thought must lead to free, and in the end orderly, action. 
 
 I have done an unusually hard winter's work and have been very 
 well, with the exception of rheumatism, which is constantlv growing 
 upon me, and will at last entirely cripple me if the end of earthly work 
 does not come in some other way. Our society and congregation are 
 growing steadily and healthfully and. I believe, spiritually, as well as 
 numerically. Indeed, I have a charming society. 
 
 Please present my very kind regards to Mrs. Hawsthorne, and say 
 
 -*i{ 369 K*-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 tliat die invitation to come and rest with us, while you in your youthful 
 vigor go roaming over the country, is still open, and we hope to see you 
 both next year, or any time when you can come. 
 
 In this letter Mr. Giles comments on the death of Dr. Bayley and on 
 other matters: 
 
 Philadelphia, June 22, 1886. 
 
 The departure of Dr. Bayley and the conflict which is going on in 
 your civil affairs awaken a lively interest in your people, in both church 
 and state. 
 
 You must miss Dr. Bayley; he has occupied so conspicuous a place 
 in all New Church work. You will miss him from the councils of the 
 church and as an efficient worker in building up the Lord's kingdom. 
 You will find him, however, in other ways. Wlien a good man goes 
 into the spiritual world he occupies a more central position, and he can 
 act more directly and efficiently upon the minds of those who remain 
 in this life. A bad man has less power, because he is farther removed 
 from human minds and is kept under more rigid confinement. So it is 
 a gain to humanity when either the good or the evil depart to the other 
 life. 
 
 I had the pleasure of receiving from Dr. Bayley, just before he set 
 out for France, a letter which I shall highly prize. You may remember 
 that several of the leading men in our society passed on last year. 
 It seemed at first as though we could not get on without diem. But 
 we do, and our society is more active and efficient than ever. Sweden- 
 borg says the Church on earth will gain increase and power as the 
 heavens gain strcngtli by accessions from the earth. 
 
 I was much interested in your account of your visit to Morocco. We 
 have many evils to contend with and remove, but society in England 
 and America is heaven compared with what you describe. I think it 
 is a good landmark; it shows that civilization and religion have made 
 immense progress, and gives us sure grounds of hope for the future. 
 The New Church helps us to see in all the industrial, civil, and religious 
 commotions which are now shaking society and the Church to the centre 
 the effects of a Divine and merciful power. Through the noise and 
 
 -^ 370 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 confusion of conflicting elements we can hear the still small voice of the 
 Lord's love, and see the outlines of an order which will become more 
 distinct as the smoke and dust of departing systems are cleared away. 
 I feel an assurance of the steady coming of the Lord to establish His 
 Kingdom on the earth, which fills my heart with comfort and peace. 
 
 Early in the year the New Church Society in Washington had begun 
 to consider the advisability of changing their pastor. As in many other 
 cases when counsel was needed, my father's advice was sought. 
 
 Two of the letters concerning tlie proposed change are here given: 
 
 From Chauncey Giles to Hon. Job Barnard 
 
 PlllLADELPiiiA, June 17, 1886. 
 
 Your favor of yesterday was duly received. It seems to me the plan 
 you propose is feasible and useful. It is a good and honorable position 
 for Mr. Fox and one to which he is entitled. I think he could perform 
 a much greater use as a general pastor than he could if he confined his 
 labor to the Washington Society, if he enters into it with zeal and 
 energy. I have written to him to that effect. If he could establish 
 little centres in the Association and bring them into communication 
 with one another and keep them alive by occasional visits, it would in 
 time lead to a live and strong Association. 
 
 I have also written to the Board of Missions, suggesting that they 
 should unite with the Maryland Association in supporting him in tliat 
 field. In the winter he might go south and do some good work there. 
 If the plan were entered into with energy and a determination to carry 
 it into elfect, I have no doubt of its success. Help would come from 
 unexpected sources. 
 
 I am forcibly impressed witli the fact that in forming our plans for 
 building U|) the Church and providing the means for it we leave out the 
 most imjjortant factor, that is, tlie Lord. We do not take Him into the 
 account. He is with us, for when we are working for tlie Church we 
 are moving in the current of the Divine Providence. All tlie Divine 
 forces are cooperating with us. Men are raised up and made willing 
 to provide means of wliicli we had no conce|)tioii. 
 
 I know you all feel kindly toward Mr. Fox. lie has dune the Cluircli 
 
 -<■{ 371 }S^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 in Washington a noble service, and you must deal considerately with 
 him, and even at some sacrifice you must put him in a position in which 
 he can still work lor (he Church to the best advantage. 
 
 To Mr. Giles from Job Barnard 
 
 Washington, D. C, June 28, 1886. 
 
 Your noble letter was received, and its kind and yet progressive tone 
 woke us from our dying condition to such an extent that the plan pro- 
 posed was decided upon by our society yesterday at its last meeting, by 
 a decisive vote by ballot. 
 
 A call was extended to Mr. Daniels, and the matter of his salary was 
 referred to the Church Committee. We have guaranteed the five hun- 
 dred dollars towards Mr. Fox's support as general pastor, and we 
 hope the Board of Missions will give as much more. It is important 
 in starting this new move that it have the moral as well as financial 
 support of the Board of Missions and of the Association and the Church 
 at large, for we feel that it is an important step toward building up the 
 Church in this region of the country. We feel thankful to you for your 
 interest and kind advice in this matter. 
 
 Not only were Mr. Giles's counsels sought in matters concerning 
 societies (there was almost no branch of church work in which he was 
 not interested, directly or indirectly), but he frequently received letters 
 from individuals who felt in need of spiritual help. 
 
 The following letter was treasured for years Ijy its recipient: 
 
 Philadelphia, June 18, 1886. 
 
 I was so much pleased to get a letter from you again that I am in 
 no mood for scolding you. Indeed, I do not think scolding is much in 
 my line, but if I can help you in any way it will give me great pleasure 
 to do it. That is my big business by inheritance and profession. You 
 may not know that Saint Giles, who became so famous in London as to 
 give his name to a part of the city, was the saint of cripples, and the 
 gate that led to his house in which he performed his miracles of heal- 
 ing the halt and lame is called Cripplegate to this day. 
 
 It is my business to make the lame in another sense walk; but my 
 
 -^ 372 }§«•-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 success is not sufficient to entitle me to a saintship. If my ancestor had 
 not succeeded better than I do I am sure he would never have been 
 honored with such a title. But if I can help a little I shall not complain. 
 I do not aspire to any great success. If I imderstand your letter aright, 
 you are a little lame, not by any means a cripple, but you limp a little 
 in the way that leads to heaven, get weary, and sometimes quite dis- 
 couraged at your slow progess. Is it not so? 
 
 Well, my child, I will tell you what to do. Don't think of your own 
 lameness, but when you see any one else that walks a little lame and 
 seems to be weary, try to help him. If he is carrying a heavy burden, 
 as the most of us are, try to help him lift it, or, what is much better, 
 throw it away. In almost every instance it is composed of poor stuff and 
 is not worth carrying a foot. Then a little help in making the path 
 smoother, in pointing out the pleasant views by the wayside and the 
 sunny spots that lie just ahead, will help the lame one, and before we 
 are aware of it we forget our own crippled condition and begin to 
 move around as lively as a cricket. The efficacy of this remedy is 
 wonderful. Every ounce of the burden we lift from the hearts of 
 others falls from ourselves. As we help others to walk we help our- 
 selves. We gain strength by using what we have for the good of others. 
 The brightness we give to them falls upon our own patli. 
 
 It is a great help, also, to cease to think of yesterday and to-morrow. 
 To-day gives business and pleasure enough for any one. Suppose we 
 all entered into the duties and the pleasures of the day, tried to find 
 what we could do in the morning, and how much good we could get 
 out of it for ourselves and others, entering into our work widi as bright 
 and pleasant a spirit as possible, and doing the same all day; it would 
 generally be a happy day, even under unfavorable circumstances. 
 
 This principle applies not only to our ovm natural work but to our 
 spiritual work. It ajjplics to our combats with evil and false principles, 
 and our efforts to think well and feel right. We must not be discour- 
 aged because we cannot remove an evil at once by merely willing to do 
 so. If we are in the honest effort and purpose to live a good life there 
 can be no (loul)t about the result. We can resist an evil to-day. We 
 can tliink well of the Lord and the neighbor to-day, and to diink well 
 
 -♦j{ 373 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 of the Lord and the neighbors opens heaven to us. It opens the door 
 so that the Lord can come in and make His home in our hearts. The 
 room to which we welcome Him may be very small at first, but He will 
 enlarge it and make it bright with His presence and sweet with His 
 love. 
 
 We are sometimes sad and discouraged when we think " what might 
 have been " if this or that had or had not occurred. But none can tell 
 what might have been if this or that had been different. It might have 
 been a thousand times worse for us, even if it had been much better in 
 natural things. 
 
 We must not think about any end in life. There is no end. We can- 
 not escape from ourselves. If we should go into the other world we 
 would be the same beings we are in this. We must be diligent and 
 patient in trying to make ourselves better by doing our work with a 
 pleasant spirit by "thinking well of the Lord and the neighbor," and 
 one way to think well of Him is to trust Him and do what He tells us. 
 
 I am afraid I have preached you a sermon instead of writing you 
 a letter, but I have written what came into my mind and perhaps it 
 may help you a little. I am pleased that you still think of me, and 
 I hope you will write to me whenever you feel like it. 
 
 After the meeting of Convention, when Mr. Giles was again reelected 
 president, came a delightful experience. He went to Williamstown to 
 attend the fiftieth anniversary of the graduation of his class, that of 
 1836. He says: 
 
 There is to be a meeting of the old soldiers, twenty of whom out of 
 a class of thirty-two now survive. We were a tough lot, were we not? 
 It is said tliat there is no instance of a similar longevity in any class. 
 Your motlier will go with me, and from there I think we shall go to 
 Lake George, where we propose to spend our vacation, unless we can 
 find a better place, on better terms. 
 
 They did not go to Lake George as soon as they expected. From 
 Williamstown they went to West Newton, to visit their youngest daugh- 
 ter. WTiile there they were summoned to New York to attend the 
 funeral of the infant son of Chauncey L. Giles. 
 
 -4 374 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 Of the visit to Williamstown the diary records: 
 
 We had our class meeting and began to go over the roll. Eleven of 
 the old members were present, one more than there were twenty years 
 ago. The meeting was very interesting. Old memories were revived 
 and old scenes lived over again. 
 
 June 30. We had our last class meeting. This was Commencement 
 Day. I stayed through the exercises, which were interesting to me. 
 From the church we marched to the alumni dinner. I was called upon 
 for a speech, and made a short one which was well received. President 
 Hopkins took me by the hand and thanked me for it. 
 
 Mr. White [one of his classmates], Eunice, and I went to Bennington. 
 I had not been there for fifty years. The place was much changed. 
 The old seminary was closed and the town itself had gone to ruin. 
 Business has been transferred to another part of the township, but we 
 had a delightful ride. It was very kind in Mr. White to take us. 
 
 The eighth of July found them once more at Lake George. 
 
 The much needed time for rest had arrived, yet Mr. Giles could 
 never be wholly inactive. He preaciied every Sunday during tlie sum- 
 mer and wrote one new sermon on the " Descent of Man," a subject 
 which interested him greatly. He also prepared an address to be de- 
 livered at Detroit before die Michigan Association in September. 
 
 A note of discouragement sounds in his diary, due no doubt to 
 fatigue, headache, buzzing in the ears, and rheumatism. 
 
 One of the pleasant episodes of this year was the visit to this country 
 of Mr. and Mrs. Paterson, New Church friends from Scotland. 
 
 My father was greatly delighted, and wrote: 
 
 1 am sorry I do not know upon what steamer you are coming. If I 
 did and were at home, I would stand on the wharf and be the first one 
 to welcome you to America. 
 
 This could not be, and it seemed diflicult to arrange a time of meeting 
 because of engagements made for Mr. Giles to ])rearh and lecture away 
 from home. Mr. Giles spoke in Boston and New Haven, and he had 
 agreed to attend the meeting of the Connecticut Association, to be held 
 
 -^ 375 }s.-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 at Hartford. From this place, after a night spent with former New 
 York parishioners at Milford, Mr. Giles went to New Haven. Here, 
 by arrangement of lliese friends, he had tlie pleasure of meeting these 
 dear Scotch people to whom he was so warmly attached. 
 While with his friends at Milford, Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 Saturday I am going to New Haven. I received a note from Mrs. D. 
 to-day, asking me to come to her house Saturday afternoon to dinner at 
 six o'clock. She says she has invited friends to meet me from eight 
 to ten. Mrs. T. says she has issued cards for a reception; I dread it not 
 a little. I am having a good rest, which I need, before the reception 
 to-night and the work to-morrow. I do not expect I shall meet a single 
 person to-night I ever saw before, except Mr. and Mrs. T. I should 
 think from all that is said that I am to meet the president and some 
 members of the faculty of Yale, for the purpose of being questioned 
 about our doctrines. Don't you pity me? It may not be so formidable 
 as fancy paints it. 
 
 I am feeling very well, quite as well as I did when I left home, but 
 the pleasantest part of the whole is that I am going home in a few days. 
 
 The shrinking from strangers of which my father speaks was never 
 shown in the least when actually meeting them. A genial spirit of cor- 
 dial kindness marked his intercourse with others. In view of his appre- 
 hension before the event, the following letter from his New Haven 
 hostess to a friend in Philadelphia is very interesting: 
 
 New Haven, November 28, 1886. 
 
 I am going to take this quiet Sunday afternoon to make my promised 
 report on Mr. Giles's visit. 
 
 Mr. Giles has indeed an attraction all his own, quite, I think, the 
 most single-minded, guileless, and yet persuasive Christian leader that 
 I have ever met. ... I felt for him an increasing personal interest. . . . 
 
 When we first spoke of Mr. Giles as coming here, I said to my hus- 
 band (in a spirit of self-appropriation), "We will keep him all to 
 ourselves; he will talk delightfully just to us," but my husband's more 
 generous instincts urged that Mr. Giles himself would probably like 
 to meet our college professors ... so it was arranged . . . and I 
 
 -4 376 ^'~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 really think it might have been gratifying to you, could you have seen 
 how cordially he was met hy our University circle — already knoAvn 
 to the greater part by his writings. 
 
 During that evening, after the general introduction to Mr. Giles, 
 he went with my husband into an opposite drawing-room to be intro- 
 duced to other friends there. About half an hour afterwards I also 
 went into that room and found an audience three rows deep, listening 
 to Mr. Giles's conversation witli an absorbing interest. Some of the 
 professors and Mrs. D. (the president's wife and the most cultivated 
 woman of our circle) were drawing out Mr. Giles to speak on his own 
 particular doctrines and views. He was explaining and answering them 
 most interestingly, with what seemed to me an admirable art and felic- 
 ity, combined with the most delicate tact and good taste . . . indeed, 
 his words and his thoughts seemed to be giving the keynote to conversa- 
 tion all through the room. This was even amusingly expressed by a 
 particular friend of mine (tlie very "spirituelle " wife of one of our 
 professors) ; she laid her hand on my arm and said emphatically, " My 
 dear, I never spent such an evening as this in my life. I call it a soirie 
 at the Salon Rambouillet. You, with your foreign associates, represent 
 Mme. de Rambouillet. introducing to us a Bossuet in the person of Mr. 
 Giles, and I find him in Uiis room discoursing eloquently on ' Man in 
 the World of Spirits.' In the other room I have just left Dr. Newman 
 Smyth, Dr. Barbour, and President Dwight discussing ' Probation After 
 Death'; in another part of the room they were talking of 'The Nature 
 of the Resurrection Body ' . . . and in the rear room they are dis- 
 cussing ' Occupations of tlie Future Life.' You should have put on tlie 
 comer of your invitations, 'Conversazione; Resurrections Subjects!'" 
 Though this reads like a joke, it was really founded on fact, and as I 
 passed down the room I stoi)i)ed to sjieak with a young lady standing on 
 die outer circle of a bevy of young married women. Her specialty is 
 lawn tennis, so I asked her how the tennis tournament of the day be- 
 fore had gone off, and her answer was: " Oh, I dont know and I don't 
 care! That day I was reading Mr. Giles's book, ' Man as a Spiritual 
 Being,' and we have all talked of nothing else ever since, and it has 
 given me such different thoughts of death; and now I like to look at 
 
 — ■{ 377 \^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 him standing there and think of his comforting words! " That was 
 neatly said, wasn't it? 
 
 On Sunday afternoon we all went to the Center Church to hear him 
 preach. He had what our New Haven reporters call " a cultivated and 
 intellectual audience." The venerable Emeritus President Woolsey 
 and family sat just under the pulpit, President Dwight and family oppo- 
 site; all die college professors and a goodly mingling of Episcopalians, 
 Scotch Presbyterians, and Congregationalists. All were interested and 
 spoke appreciatively of the sermon. Mr. Giles has a good delivery 
 and most persuasive tone of voice, and I hope at some time to hear him 
 in his own beautiful church with an accompanying liturgy. I have been 
 reared in the Church of England, accustomed to its liturgy and a highly 
 ornate service, and the surroundings of a Presbyterian church give a 
 chill to my spirit; I cannot help it! 
 
 Again and again during my father's ministry letters were received 
 from friends to whom he had been helpful. It is impossible to weave 
 them into a connected narrative. From their very nature such corre- 
 spondence came as breaks in the regular routine. Few of them have 
 been sent to me, but such as are received are very expressive of the 
 gratitude of their recipients. 
 
 Such acknowledgments as the following were very encouraging: 
 
 From W. F. B. to Chauncey Giles 
 
 December 17, 1886. 
 From my heart I tliank you for your very kind, beautiful, and satis- 
 fying letter. My mistakes have been so many in the past, and errors 
 for which I am sorry so seem to compass me about that it is hard in- 
 deed to keep brave. But a Mighty Hand most of the time seems to up- 
 hold me, and my state of mind is so much more composed than during 
 tlie period of former confinement that I am thankful all the time for 
 the Lord's help which I feel about me. And when He sends to me such 
 strong, earnest, helpful words as I find in your letter, I feel more than 
 grateful. I tell you most earnestly they have helped me to-day; and 
 I shall call it a privilege to have them by me, and when a sad moment 
 comes there will be comfort in their strength. To think that you could 
 
 -^ 378 }§«-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1881-1886 
 
 take time from all your duties to send me this message! God bless 
 you for it; it has gone deep down in my heart, and oh, Mr. Giles, you 
 may think it but a little help, but let me assure you that it came at a 
 most opportune time, and has been a great, strong lever in the right 
 direction. In all human probability I shall outlive you; but your aids 
 to me when I was broken and cast down, when the battle seemed a hard 
 one (and it was uphill work to push against trouble), your aids, let me 
 say, will always be a bright thought to me, and your memory in my 
 heart will always be green. Truly you are a good friend to me, and 
 I will try to profit by the good and true words so sweetly offered me. 
 A true servant of God, I pray that in all its brightness and true glory 
 shall come the summons to you, " Well done, thou good and faithful 
 servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee 
 ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord." 
 
 ■•4 379 ^-
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Philadelphia Pastorate, 1887-1889 
 
 X HE new year of 1887 opens with a letter of encouragement to 
 Mme. Humann. He reminds her that — 
 
 The establishment of the New Church is not a revolution but a 
 growth, and it is not a Jonah's gourd that grows up in the night. It 
 grows slowly, but it is to continue to grow widi more vigor forever. 
 We can afford tlien to be patient. We must not expect great visible 
 results. Of one thing we are sure, — that it is the church of the future, 
 and diat it must universally prevail because its laws are the truths of 
 man's spiritual life and his actual relations to the Lord. They are a 
 spiritual science, and they will work tlie same beneficent changes in 
 man's spiritual condition that natural science has caused in his material 
 condition. 
 
 The work of 1886 is summed up in tlie following: 
 
 I spent the most of the day in writing my annual report as pastor of 
 the church. I have preached every Sunday in the year except two, and 
 have delivered eighty-four discourses in all. 
 
 It has been a year of constant and delightful labor. Twenty-nine of 
 the published discourses have been mine. These are equal to a book 
 of five hundred pages. Many thousands of these have been circulated. 
 Ten tliousand of one of them have been distributed. I have done much 
 work besides. So it has not been an unfruitful year for a man of my 
 age. I have no idea that I shall be able to do as much another year. 
 
 Herewith are given some of the suggestive thoughts from the diary 
 of this year: 
 
 January 9, 1887. The words of the Lord convey a different meaning 
 to one man from what they do to another. Knowledge is not an entity, 
 
 -4 380 ^^
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 like a sum of money which can be transferred to another and be counted 
 out as such a sum, the same in all respects. Every mind is a factor in 
 the reception of truth; the result is some modification of the truth in its 
 reception. It is similar to the modification of light by the object 
 which reflects it. A new color is given to it, — a color determined by 
 the organization or quality of the plant. This is a universal law of 
 reception and transmission. It applies to the water that is taken up 
 by the plant and becomes sap. 
 
 This is the doctrine that truth takes on the form of the mind that 
 receives it. Its nature may be wholly changed. The law is worthy of 
 being worked out more fully. 
 
 February 2, 1887. I seem to gain clearer conceptions of the Lord. 
 As I do, I feel more like keeping silence than uttering a word. What 
 can I say? What can I ask? I can understand something of the feel- 
 ing expressed by the words: " My hand upon my mouth, and my mouth 
 in the dust." One feels as though he were but a speck, a blot, as noth- 
 ing. May tlie Lord help me to put away every evil and open my heart 
 to Him that I may be His, wholly His, and not my own. May He give 
 me power and wisdom to shim every evil as a sin against Him. 
 
 The Lord is with us against our follies, errors, and sins. He is 
 with us as fully in adversity as in natural prosperity. He favors and 
 works for our highest interests in everything. He is looking to our 
 highest good in what He withholds as fully as in what He bestows. 
 Wliat an unchanging, devoted friend He is! And yet we regard Him as 
 our enemy. Wlien our natural plans do not succeed, we think He does 
 not favor us. How often we hear people say when tliey have been 
 naturally prosperous that the Lord has been very good to them. But 
 the Lord is just as good to us when we are unsuccessful and are suffer- 
 ing as when we are in the midst of the greatest natural prosperity. 
 
 Of his correspondence Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 I have an accumulation of letters from all quarters of die earth, 
 from persons asking me questions about our doctrines and wanting 
 explanations of some points regarding them. One can give but little 
 satisfaction in a letter. Some of the letters I have written contain 
 
 -4 381 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 twelve pages, some eight, and some four. It seems as though I had 
 said nothing; but sometimes a word is useful, and I try to say that. 
 
 Speaking of music, after attending a beautiful concert he writes on 
 January 19, 1887: 
 
 I wonder what it must be in heaven, where the voices must far surpass 
 in sweetness and power tliose of earth, where the music must be the 
 perfect expression of some affection, and the hearing of the spiritual 
 ear vastly more acute than when muffled by an organ of flesh, and where 
 every one will be in perfect sympathy with every other one. It must 
 be beyond all conception. What delights are in store for those who 
 become regenerate, bom from above! 
 
 Again on February 14 he says: 
 
 What would life be without domestic and social life! We are en- 
 riched by every good and intelligent person with whom we become 
 acquainted. We constantly give and receive, and what we give we 
 retain. If we knew this fact and acted upon it how much richer we 
 should be! 
 
 My father's birthday came on May 11. It was made the occasion for 
 a festival of good will and generous kindness by the Philadelphia 
 friends. 
 
 On the morning of the day a committee from the Ladies' Aid called 
 and gave the following letter with the accompanying presents. 
 
 To Our Beloved Pastor on his Seventy-fourth Birthday 
 
 May 11, 1887. 
 In behalf of the members of this society and congregation we pre- 
 sent to you the accompanying clock and a purse containing seventy- 
 four dollars in gold, knowing full well that it is but a faint suggestion 
 of the golden years of a long and useful life. 
 
 We ask you to accept them and the enclosed amount in their name 
 with their love and gratitude, and as time goes on may each stroke of 
 the clock remind you of their hourly aff"ection and appreciation of the 
 
 -4 382 }3^>-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 faithfulness with which you labor to unfold the wondrous things out 
 of God's law. 
 
 In the evening there was a very full meeting of the society in the 
 Sunday school room, which was beautifully decorated for the occasion 
 with flowers. An armchair was presented from the children of the 
 Sunday school; there were roses for Mrs. Giles, and, as my father 
 said: 
 
 Best of all were tlie hearty expressions of good will. They seemed to 
 fill the room and fill the hearts of all. So in every respect it was a 
 bright and joyous day. The friends were especially pleased that your 
 mother and I were so completely surprised. I surmised that something 
 was in the air, but had no idea what. 
 
 A few weeks after this happy experience the family was quite 
 alarmed about Mrs. Giles. Through a mistake of tlie oculist, who had 
 put an overdose of atropine in her eyes, she was poisoned, so that after 
 her return home she became unconscious and remained so for five 
 hours. 
 
 Writing of this experience on September 27th to an English friend, 
 Mrs. Giles says: 
 
 This happened the last of May and I have not yet recovered tlie 
 use of my eyes. The effect upon my nervous system generally is that 
 I am altogetlier more sensitive than usual, so that I have constantly to 
 reason against my feelings in small things as well as great. We came 
 home from Lake George ten days ago. Mr. Giles is in his usual health. 
 He has preached every Sunday but two during his vacation. Last night 
 he set out for Cincinnati and Chicago to meet tlie Ohio and Illinois 
 Associations. He expects to be absent about two weeks. 
 
 During this visit to the West an amusing occurrence is mentioned by 
 my fatlier: 
 
 Wliile sitting in tlic church yesterday a gray-headed man asked 
 me if Mr. Giles were present. I told him he was. He looked around 
 from one to another and seemed disapjiointed at the resuU. I said, 
 "He is on tliis seat in this comer." He still seemed disappointed and 
 
 -•^ 383 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 a little nonplussed. I said, "I am Mr. Giles." "The Rev. Chauncey 
 Giles? " he asked. " Yes, the very same," I replied. " How different 
 our ideas of men are from the reality," he said: "I imagined you were 
 a tall and portly man of commanding presence. Well," he said, "you 
 are tall in your writings anyhow." 
 
 No sooner was my fatlier home from Illinois than he was asked to 
 exchange with Mr. Reed, pastor of the Boston Society. That he did 
 much besides, in die vicinity of Boston, his home letters tell. 
 
 November 16, 1887. 
 I am really getting homesick and counting the days when I shall be 
 with you again. It seems as if I had not been at home since last spring 
 except to say " How do you do? " and " Good-bye." My work has been 
 rather hard since I came here. I preached five times in eight days, and 
 have delivered five lectures to the Theological students. I took cold 
 last week, and Sunday I was so hoarse that I was afraid in the morning 
 I should not be able to proceed with the service; but you know I usually 
 go through with what I undertake and I did this time, but it is much 
 more exhausting to speak when one is hoarse and is compelled to force 
 out every word by main strength. 
 
 Of the five lectures delivered extemporaneously to the Theological 
 students, I subjoin a few fragments. The notes show something of my 
 father's methods of composition, and even from the skeleton one can 
 gather the purport of the lectures as a whole. They also illustrate 
 some of Mr. Giles's own characteristics both in pastoral and literary 
 work. Four of the subjects were: "The Relation of a Pastor to his 
 People"; "The Use of Words"; "Words as Tools"; "The Art of 
 Putting Truth." 
 
 'o 
 
 FROM LECTURES DELIVERED TO THE THEOLOGICAL STUDENTS, 
 BOSTON, NOVEMBER, 1887 
 
 " The Relation of a Pastor to his People " 
 
 I. The basis of all true success is character. It is what a man is. 
 
 II. This is especially true in dealing with men in the practical 
 affairs of the church. 
 
 -4 384 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 III. The kind of men we have to deal witli: all sorts. The New 
 Church is peculiar in this respect. Men come from all the churches, 
 their especial forms tlie last things they are willing to surrender. Epis- 
 copalians, Quakers, etc. 
 
 IV. New Churchmen are more independent thinkers thun others, 
 and therefore more difficult to deal with unless it is done wisely. 
 
 V. The duty of a New Church minister to lead llie people. But how 
 can he lead unless he is wiser than they? " Blind lead the blind," etc. 
 Men are led by their affections. 
 
 VI. He must adapt himself to the people; enter into their states. 
 He must show a disposition to go with them. If a man "compel thee 
 to go a mile," etc. A minister often gains more by yielding than by 
 rigidly insisting on his own peculiar ideas. — Catching fish; playing 
 them. 
 
 VII. He should aim at the good of the church and every member of 
 it. A thing good and useful in itself may be gained in such a manner 
 as to be a great injury. In curing a disease we must not create a worse 
 one. A minister has been thinking and studying upon a subject until 
 he is familiar with it, but the people are not. He springs it upon them. 
 He must familiarize them with it; lead them up to it; help them to 
 grow to it. 
 
 VIII. He must learn to say, think, and feel we are the people; we 
 are one body, we are a unit. — Every society a man. A minister must 
 try to make tlie people feel that he desires to help tliem and be helped 
 by them. A poor plan on which all can unite is better than the best 
 on which the people are divided. 
 
 "The Art of Putting Truth " 
 
 The New Church puts tlie teacher of spiritual truth in the most favor- 
 able position for communicating it. 
 
 1. It places him in the lines of the Divine order, where he can see 
 things in their true relations. He stands on the basis of immutable law. 
 Plain paths — he can go from one plane of creation to another — an 
 open stairway on wliidi ln' can ascend from the natural to the s|)irilual, 
 etc. Jacob's ladder. 
 
 ~<i 38.5 J5-~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 2. Show how llic N. C. minister can help in all things in understand- 
 ing the laws of spiritual life, (a) An immense advantage. He finds 
 himself in a world where all things are connected and related. (6) The 
 Jaw of Correspondence, (c) Representatives, {d) Here he will find 
 the most abundant and perfect means of presenting a spiritual truth. 
 
 3. The universal law; natural truth the basis of spiritual truth, 
 (a) The Lord always works like Himself. Learn how He does one 
 thing and you know how He does all diings. Show the value of truth 
 in preaching and learning. Own experience. (6) We must take the 
 people where they are. We must stand with them, walk with them. 
 
 4. Abstract truth. No such thing. Be careful not to limit it to in- 
 dividual or particular things. Show its universality, (a) We must 
 give it in concrete forms. S. says we cannot understand spiritual truth 
 until it is seen in the light of a natural one. 
 
 Truths of the New Church could not be communicated to men until 
 there was a scientific, natural basis for them, e. g.. The laws of God 
 in nature. The idea of connection and relation. The dominion of law. 
 The Lord always acts according to immutable law in the material 
 world. Must He not also in the spiritual world? It was impossible 
 to convince men that the Lord did not act in an arbitrary way in the 
 government of men until they saw that He did not in the realms of 
 nature. Show that the principle is working in the Christian world 
 to-day. 
 
 5. The N. C. minister must study nature to learn the laws of spirit. 
 His mind should be rich with instances of natural law to illustrate spir- 
 itual law. He must employ the things we see and hear to teach those 
 things we cannot see. (a) It is not sufficient simply to announce the 
 truth; he must show it. He must hold up before the face of his con- 
 gregation a mirror in which they can see it. 
 
 Examples: 
 
 Suppose your subject is the Lord's omnipresence. Tlie simple as- 
 sertion is not sufficient, especially if we first teach that He is in the 
 human form. Illustrate by the sun — the sun is a body. By the spirit 
 in the body — a tuberose in a dark room. How do we know it is there? 
 Not by touch, hearing, or sight. It is everywhere in the room. 
 
 -4 386 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 Spiritual growth 
 
 Take a plant. Swedenborg says, if we knew how a tree grows we 
 should have before us all tlie laws of regeneration. 
 
 Freedom in its relations to law. They are generally supposed to be 
 antagonistic. Freedom is generally supposed to consist in following 
 whim. 
 
 Railway engine and track 
 
 6. Must illustrate by things with which people are familiar; com- 
 mon things. 
 
 Early in February', 1888, the Hon. Job Barnard of Washington wrote 
 to Mr. Giles urging him to come to tlie assistance of the Washington 
 Society. He said: 
 
 We need to be directed by your good heart and wise head as to what 
 is best to do to promote the growth of the New Church in the Capital. 
 
 After his visit Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 Philadelphia, March 11, 1883. 
 
 I went to Washington last week and preached for the Society last 
 Sunday. The Society is in an unpleasant condition from differences 
 of opinion on the dismissal of Mr. Fox. They did what may possibly 
 be a good thing in an unwise way and now they are reaping the re- 
 wards of their unwisdom. Societies like individuals go through these 
 states of fermentation and I suppose some good comes out of tliem, 
 though it is a painful way of getting good. I had a pleasant time. 
 Their little church was crowded and the attention was quite profound, 
 while I tried to show them wliat a society of the church rcallv is. the 
 duty its members owe to it, and the good they will gain by being faithful 
 in doing it. I found there, as I do wherever I go, persons who have be- 
 come interested in tlie doctrines of the New Church by my writings. 
 It is pleasant and encouraging to know this. All we can do is to sow the 
 seed and the Lord has declared that they are blessed who "sow beside 
 all waters." IJut I shall not sow iiuu-h more in this world. 
 
 I cannot conceive of a more dclj^liilnl condition lliaii lo have just 
 
 -•^ 387 }•> -
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 enough to do to keep the mind active, to know how to do it to the sat- 
 isfaction of one's self and every one else, to have no aches or pains or 
 sorrows, and to know that every want is and will be provided for and 
 to be free from every cause of fear and sorrow and every disturbance. 
 The possibility of gaining such a state seems almost too good to be 
 true. Wlien we look at ourselves it does seem as though such a state 
 were imattainable. But wlu-n we regard it from the infinite love and 
 wisdom of the Lord it not only seems possible but inevitable. There can 
 be nothing too good for Him to desire and to give. What a glorious 
 prospect there is before those who love and serve Him. I am some- 
 times almost overwhelmed by it. 
 
 I have been writing on " Retribution " at the request of the Presby- 
 terian minister who is about to publish a book on that subject contain- 
 ing the views of different churches. I thought it was a good occasion 
 to say something for the New Church. But I am glad it is off my 
 hands. I shall send it away to-morrow. 
 
 In August, 1887, Mme. Humann wrote of the church in Paris. This 
 was the first of a series of letters relative to church organization. The 
 subject is always a fruitful source of disagreement, and the settlement 
 of it in Paris was no exception. The society was in the peculiar posi- 
 tion of having three ministers, none of whom had been ordained in the 
 usual manner by an ordaining minister. After ten years of preaching 
 M. Humann was consecrated to his work by election from the people — 
 the ceremony consisting of a laying on of hands by the oldest member, 
 who " asked the benediction of Heaven upon him, and said the Society 
 gave him the right publicly to teach the doctrines." It was also decided 
 at that time that every minister who wished to preach at the rue Thouin 
 would have to submit to the same ceremony even if he had been or- 
 dained elsewhere. Meanwhile a Mr. Nussbaum had come to the United 
 States from the Paris Society for further instruction in the doctrines. 
 He spent ten weeks in my father's house in Philadelphia. \^Tiile in 
 this country he had some training in tlie Theological School. At the 
 end of that time, during which there was some opposition to him by the 
 members of the Paris Society and much difference of opinion as to the 
 metliod of his ordination, he decided not to become a minister but to 
 go into business. He eventually, however, was ordained into the min- 
 istry but did not return to Paris. 
 
 — »}{ 388 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 M. and Mme. Humann, who owned the church, had willed it and 
 their own house, with a handsome sum of money, to Convention. Be- 
 cause of a possible disapproval by the Paris Society of some details 
 they did not dare to make this known. 
 
 In all these discouragements and difficulties Mme. Humann wrote 
 to my father for advice, and he did everything in his power to help 
 the weak and struggling little society, as the following letters to her 
 indicate: 
 
 To Mme. Humann 
 
 Philadelphia, May 28, 1888. 
 
 Wliile you are keeping the light burning and doing what you can to 
 keep an interest in the New Church alive, il will shine into some mind 
 or minds that will become aglow with the new light. Men will be 
 raised up who will meet the wants of the age, and devote themselves 
 with zeal and wisdom to organize a church and make it a power in 
 the land. But we must not hang down our hands and wait passively. 
 We must do what we can, that in our work we may be instrumental in 
 finding and preparing the man. The New Church is in the Lord's heart 
 and hands. He will support its life and build it up everywhere as fast 
 as He can find men to cooperate with lliin. The ages move slowly, but 
 they move. 
 
 I have foreseen from the first that you were likely to have some 
 difficulty in organizing the church. You have been so long under the 
 domination of the Catholic priesthood that it is very natural to swing 
 to the opposite extreme and to think that the way to avoid the dangers 
 of spiritual tyranny is to oppose all established order. The transition 
 from tyranny to anarchy is natural, but both are equally hostile to true 
 freedom. I once said in one of our Conventions that I hated the name 
 priest, and I do. But 1 love liberty, and I am sure that there is no 
 way of gaining it in cliurch or state but in order. The church will 
 never flourish anywhere on earth or in heaven and gain a steady and 
 substantial growth without men set apart to teach her doctrines and 
 administer her affairs. The church needs clergy as much as the state 
 needs officers and governors to administer civil affairs. Men must be 
 set apart and dedicated to this use, and formally iiulucted into it by 
 the consent and cooperation of the members of the church. 
 
 -■^ 389 };*-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Philadelphia, June 7, 1888. 
 
 Tliere is no minister in the New Church who thinks less of ceremonies 
 and forms, as such, than I do. But they have their use, which is not 
 destroyed by their abuse. 
 
 I think, I know, you are right in forming a religious society that 
 shall be a distinct body by itself and have some general principles dis- 
 tinctly stated of its purpose and modes of work. Such organizations 
 are according to the laws of the Divine order; they exist in heaven. It 
 is impossible for any church or any truth to be successfully maintained 
 and propagated without them. If you can get even a small number 
 of persons who will work together according to some common rules 
 which they accept firmly, treating all others kindly, but moving 
 steadily on in the performance of their work, diey will in the end gain 
 strength and numbers, and they will have permanence and stability, 
 and win the favor of all who have any genuine love for the church. The 
 same necessity for organization exists in the church as in civil society. 
 The purpose of the organization must not be to rule over others but to 
 help others by the unity and combined strengtli of numbers. I am glad 
 to see that you are moving in that direction. The first movement does 
 not seem to be auspicious but it will in the end succeed, only you must 
 be patient and tender and considerate. All who have any genuine love 
 for the church wiU come back to you. 
 
 Our people in this country diink I am rather sanguine about the 
 success of the New Church because I say that every effort that the New 
 Church makes to disseminate its doctrines and build up the Lord's 
 kingdom on the earth succeeds. I am sure of it. The success may not 
 be according to our notions, it may not come in the form or at die time 
 we expect it, but it will surely come. France is to be New Church. And 
 every effort you are now making to spread the doctrines of the New 
 Church is necessary, and small as the result may seem to be, it is an 
 essential link in the chain of cause and effect by which the end is to be 
 reached. 
 
 So, my dear friend, take courage. Do the duty of to-day, as I know 
 you will, nobly and faithfully, and trust in the Lord, and wait patiently 
 for Him, and He will bring it to pass. 
 
 -4 390 }ge..-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 What a blessed privilege it is to be able to work in the beginning 
 of things when only a few can be found who can be interested. In some 
 respects it might be more pleasant to have great numbers like the Cath- 
 olics and Protestants, but in others not. Sowing is as pleasant and 
 useful as reaping, and the morning is as charming as midday or even- 
 ing. We must be content to do our work, thankful diat the Lord has 
 put it into our hearts to do it and given us the means of doing it. We 
 can sow the seed, but we cannot make it grow. The Lord alone can do 
 that. So we must be content and fiiKl our joy in doing what the Lord 
 has given us the means of doing. 
 
 Philadelphia, Jan. 27, 1890. 
 
 After M. Humann was chosen by your society as its minister and for- 
 mally introduced into the office it changed the whole aspect of affairs. 
 We have no desire to interfere in any way with your method of in- 
 stituting the ministry. Your mode of ecclesiastical government may be 
 the best for you. I have no criticisms to make or fault to find. 
 
 I deplore the divisions that weaken you and retard the progress of 
 the Church. But it seems as though the church in ever>' country has 
 to pass through such a state of conflict. And wlim it is over, the 
 people who survive look back upon it with sorrow and wonder why 
 they could have been so misled and wasted their strength so unwisely. 
 Mr. Worcester and I were talking about it not an hour ago. " Shall 
 we not sometime look back upon the trifles that have divided and hin- 
 dered our usefulness," he said, " with shame and regret? " 
 
 To Mr. Giles from L. Humann 
 
 Bkllevue, France, March 4, 1890. 
 With all tiie troubles and heartaches we have the satisfaction of see- 
 ing more clearly every day that a public worship is the only good plan 
 in Paris to bring new adherents. We constantly, if slowly, gain ground 
 with outsiders; we sell books and make the doctrines known. We re- 
 ceive no unkindness, no bad treatment of any kind, from peo|)le who 
 differ from us in their religious views. It is only the New Church 
 people who are not always kiiul to us. Is it not strange? (In conse- 
 
 -4 391 }S^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 quence, the attendance at our services is rather small.) My husband 
 has now the whole charge of the preaching and I have also the whole 
 charge of the school. Since October every Thursday and Sunday I 
 have a class and it suceeds very well. I have generally from twelve 
 or fifteen children of our quarter to twenty and twenty-five. I have 
 formed also a sewing class of about twenty women. I give them ten 
 cents for sewing two hours, and we read to them, etc. I hope next 
 year to do several tilings with them. I translated a good many of your 
 children's stories and read them to my children after reading and ex- 
 plaining different parts of the Old and the New Testament. They enjoy 
 your stories so much! Then we sing hymns and also songs for children, 
 and we dance sometimes for recreation on Thursday. It goes on very 
 well. But it is very heavy work for us all, as we are alone to do every- 
 thing, and also we may fall ill. However, let us hope for the best and 
 in the strength given us by a kind Providence. 
 
 In July of 1888 the Rev. Joseph Pettee of Abington attained his 
 fiftieth anniversary as a New Church minister. This letter of my 
 father's expresses his happiness in the event: 
 
 Lake George, July 23, 1888. 
 
 Allow me to unite my voice with your other friends in congratulat- 
 ing you on having completed a half century in the ministry of the 
 New Church. It is a privilege that is not granted to many laborers in 
 the Lord's vineyard. It is the noblest, the most useful, and the most 
 honorable office that is given to men to perform — to be the medium 
 of communicating a new and higher light on the most precious interests 
 of human life, to be a pioneer of a New Age and clear away the ob- 
 structions and plant the seeds of a New Church which is to be the crown 
 of all the churches. What more important work was ever committed 
 to tlie hands of men! 
 
 What changes you have seen during the half century you have been 
 patiently and faithfully laboring to build up tliis kingdom! The man 
 child may be in the wilderness still, but he is growing in power and 
 the wilderness is changing. It is not so dark, wild, desolate, and im- 
 passable to the feet of those who come with good tidings of peace, with 
 
 -^ 392 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 new light and the means of attaining a new and higher life. The man 
 child is changing the wilderness into a Garden of the Lord, and you 
 have done your share in making the change. 
 
 It is generally regarded as a great blessing to prolong our days in 
 this world, and it doubtless is so long as we can be useful either by 
 active work or by that spiritual ripening which is effected by the union 
 of a regenerated will witli an enlightened understanding. I doubt not 
 that both blessings are yours. 
 
 Summer had come again and its advent finds Mr. and Mrs. Giles 
 again at Lake George. From a small room assigned him as a study 
 he writes, in July, 1888, the following to one of his daughters, who is 
 about to leave for Europe with her husband: 
 
 Your mother has brought her letter into the Tower and asked " Mr. 
 Giles" if he would not write a line to you. I have asked him with 
 a suitable degree of awe and respect, and he has graciously conde- 
 scended to grant her recjuest. So here goes the line. 
 
 I am in the lone and lofty tower to which 1 believe you have been 
 graciously admitted. It is an octagon. It has seven windows and a 
 door. The furniture is elegant and abundant. It consists of three cane- 
 bottomed chairs, — two common ones, and an armchair which I am at 
 this moment occupying, — and one round table made of ash. An elec- 
 tric light depends from above. The room is entered through a long and 
 crooked passage; but very few are admitted. It is Mr. Giles's (the 
 Rev. Chauncey Giles's, President of the General Convention of the New 
 Jerusalem in the United States and Canada) sanctum, his eyrie, his soli- 
 tary abode where he writes a letter to his daughter, and ponders upon a 
 lecture or a sermon which he hopes some time to deliver. Here he sits 
 in solitary grandeur and looks down ii|ioii lln- trees and the lawn and 
 the lake and llic lulls beyond and llie pajier upon which he is writing, 
 and thinks of — oli, yes, and lif will continue to think of the daughter 
 over the ocean and in the far-olf lands. Ills thoughts and his heart 
 will go with you all for a safe and jili-asanl journey, and a return re- 
 freshed in mind and lind\ and furiched in many ways, to find the dear 
 ones at home all w.ll. and all the bctliT for the summer's jouniey. Tliis 
 
 - •».■{ 393 }i!«-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 is Mr. Giles's line. I don't know how your o^vn father could have said 
 anything more to the point. By the way, I understand that your father 
 intends to write to you before you sail, and that he would like to know 
 how to address letters to you provided he should feel inclined to write. 
 All of which is respectfully submitted by Mr. Giles. 
 
 His deep, quiet enjoyment of nature is embodied with much poetic 
 
 feeling in the following: 
 
 Lake George, July 6, 1888. 
 
 I spend a good part of my time in my tower up among the treetops 
 with the birds and squirrels. The leaves and the birds sing to me, and 
 the squirrels chatter and perform their gymnastics upon the limbs of the 
 trees. Through the openings in the screen of the leaves I look down 
 upon the beautiful lake and beyond upon the panorama of hills that 
 gird us about. Everything is beautiful and peaceful, but alive with a 
 kind of quiet joy. The lake sympathizes with the sky, sleeps in deep 
 blue or green or smiles in gold, and ripples with laughter as the winds 
 caress it, and it sparkles and flashes in the light. The staid and sober 
 hills look down upon their sleeping or gently moving child and fold 
 it in their strong embrace. It is beautiful, it is wonderfully beautiful! 
 
 At another time he writes: 
 
 Lake George, July 22, 1888. 
 
 It has been a heavenly day. The lake has been like a mirror. The 
 hills have drawn a soft veil over them which has concealed the sharp 
 lines of their features and given them a dreamy, spiritual look. The 
 shadows of the trees lie clear and light upon the lawn. In some cases 
 they are not masses of shadows without any form, but outlines of 
 trees framed in sunbeams. As I sat on the lawn this morning many 
 rowboats were gliding along the surface of the mirror, nearly all 
 pointing in one direction. A bell was ringing in the steeple of a little 
 church not far from the shore and half hidden by the trees. The boats 
 seemed to be drawn by the sound of the bell as by some charm which 
 they could not resist. The people who did not go to church were scat- 
 tered in groups about the lawn with nurses and little children whose 
 pleasant voices filled the air. I do not know when I have seen a more 
 
 -^ 394 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 beautiful sight or one more in accord with the peace of tlie day. I have 
 felt very grateful for it. It was the beauty and glory of the Lord upon 
 the earth, a picture of the peace, loveliness, and rest of heaven. 
 
 Always particularly happy when especially busy, Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 Philadelphia, Oct. 29, 1888. 
 Our work is very encouraging, our audiences are increasing, and the 
 interest in our work is deepening and the work itself is increasing. The 
 Sunday school is a delight to behold. It increases in numbers and 
 interest, our large room is quite full, and young and old are pleased. I 
 was occupied with some work for the church last week every night but 
 one. There are about fifty who meet for instruction every Monday 
 evening. We are studying tlie messages to the seven churches in Reve- 
 lation, and there seems to be much interest in it. 
 
 Two months later a temporary stop was put to Mr. Giles's activities 
 by a fall upon the ice wiiich resulted in a broken rib. Of this accident 
 he writes in cheerful vein: 
 
 Philadelphia, Dec. 8, 1888. 
 The fifth of the Broken Rib. 
 
 You see I have found a new calendar, a new era, the beginning of 
 
 a new age, the age of broken ribs. Well, it isn't so lugubrious as it 
 
 might be. There are many good things about it. 
 
 1. The people of this age are not allowed to work. They lie in 
 bed the most of the time and are compelled to be waited on. This 
 would not be so severe if you could turn over, but you are not allowed 
 to do that. You must lie flat on your back, which becomes " very 
 tiresome." Still, one gets used to it. 
 
 2. It is one of the rules of this age that we must be supplied with 
 the most delicious viands. For example: one large box white grapes, 
 one bottle best wine, one choice ham, four pounds candied fruit, four 
 pounds best buckwheat, one large bottle maple molasses, one jar 
 brandied peaches, four pounds finest oatmeal, one thousand more or 
 less offers of help. Quantities of sympathy: quant, suff. A large num- 
 ber of "It will be good for yous" — " ^Ou will be ioin[)cilf(J to rest.'' 
 
 -<i 395 }i*-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Many threats that you shall never go out again alone. So all the in- 
 hal)itants of this age must have a body servant. Many cautions about 
 stepping on the ice. I believe there is to be no more ice in this age. 
 Plenty of old novels and new magazines to read and the strictest guard 
 that you do not tumble down again. The conditions of entering on this 
 age are one or more broken ribs. If you covet such a dispensation you 
 know its terms. 
 
 Without anticipating any such result, last Sunday evening as I was 
 returning from Germantown, where I had been to lecture, and when 
 about two squares from home, I, your venerable fatlier, did step un- 
 wittingly on some ice, my feet went out from under me, and I came 
 down on the pavement with a thud which knocked the breath out of my 
 body and broke one of my ribs. I lay there sprawling like a turtle on 
 his back and gasping for breath. After a while I " pulled myself to- 
 gether," got onto my hands and knees and finally stood on my feet, 
 picked up my hat and cane and walked home, concluding I was not hurt 
 much after all and would be all right in the morning. So I said nothing 
 about it, and went to bed. It was after ten o'clock at night. But I 
 could not sleep I was in so much pain, and I was obliged to confess in 
 the morning that I could not get up. Will examined me and said one 
 of my ribs was broken. He plastered and bandaged me up, and I have 
 been living on the fat of the land ever since. I do not suffer very much 
 if I keep still. But every movement is painful. I am feeling more 
 comfortable to-day than at any time since I entered on this new age, and 
 hope to be better than ever in a few weeks. So you must not worry 
 about me. I spend my time between the bed and " Sleepy Hollow," 
 and find the change from one to the otlier very restful. I am taking my 
 ease with resignation. 
 
 Philadelphia, Dec. 11, 1888. 
 
 All the members of the family have gone to church except myself. 
 Before they went away I received many injunctions to be " good " while 
 they are gone. I don't know how I can be better than to spend a portion 
 of the time in writing a letter to you. I seem to have lost my reputation, 
 if I ever had any, for being good. I cannot do the least thing but they 
 oh! and ah! about it as if I were a very naughty boy. I told Lucy (the 
 
 -4 396 )§^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 maid) to make a fire in my study this morning, and when your mother 
 came home from market she found me quietly reposing in my chair 
 before the fire as innocent as a little child. Dear me! the way she 
 went on you would think I had committed the unpardonable sin and was 
 going to destruction. The wonder was that I did not fall downstairs 
 and break another rib, or possibly my neck. But I didn't. You see I 
 get well so fast tliat they can't understand it. I improve too rapidly to 
 suit them. It seems as though they wanted me to lie in bed a month. 
 But I can't. It's too hard work. Well, I '11 forgive them. 
 
 The Book Association has its annual meeting to-night, when the 
 officers for anodier year are chosen. There is to be a spread of coffee 
 and ice cream and a pouring forth of speeches and some odier good 
 things. I am sorry I cannot be there to assist. I want to interest our 
 people generally in the work of the Book Room. So we planned re- 
 freshments and a social meeting, and considerable effort has been made 
 to get a good attendance, and I think we shall succeed. 
 
 I am getting along very well, remarkably well. I can walk about the 
 house without much difficulty, and suffer but little pain except from 
 rheumatism, and I hope to be at work again soon. Indeed I believe 
 I do keep at work all the time. I can think just as well with a broken 
 rib as with a sound one, and I am trying to think out some lectures 
 which I can write and deliver when the fractured bone will permit. 
 
 Well, if I am to be good I must not be too good, but must stop writ- 
 ing. So with love to all I say good night and drop my pen. 
 
 Two days later, December 12, 1888, he writes a letter to the Rev. 
 John Goddard in reply to one which was received, in which disap- 
 pointment at the slow growth of the New Church was expressed. 
 
 Mr. Goddard was the first minister to remain for any length of time 
 in Cincinnati after Mr. Giles left. His pastorate there covered a period 
 of thirty-five years. He was and is very much beloved by the Cincin- 
 nati people. He now has charge of the Newtonville society, where he 
 has been ever since he left Cincinnati. 
 
 I was much interested in your letter because I have l)een there, and 
 am now at times. I have sometimes thought tliat if I were a white 
 oak tree in a New England pasture I should get discouraged and give 
 
 -^ 397 )■>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 up trying to grow. The Lord works slowly. He is in no hurry. It is 
 not size He seeks as much as quality. I wonder at His patience. How 
 little He did when in the world! So far as the external organization 
 of a church, almost nothing! He planted the seed, however, which will 
 never perish. Men may come and men may go, but His kingdom will 
 go on forever. The obstacles to its establishment are much greater than 
 we can conceive. We see a few of them, or think we do, and are dis- 
 couraged. But there is no cause for it, except in ourselves. One cause, 
 it seems to me, is that we look for too superficial and immediate re- 
 sults. We are only infinitesimal parts of an immeasurable kingdom 
 and all must grow together. No germ cell can far outstrip another 
 without producing a monster instead of a man, especially the Maximus 
 Homo. 
 
 Another cause of discouragement is that we take only the most super- 
 ficial and partial estimate of our forces. We leave almost every force 
 that favors us out of our account, — the angels, the Lord, and all the 
 unseen but ever present and active spiritual forces which are operating 
 in favor of building up the Lord's kingdom. All we can do is to 
 scratch a little on the surface. I sometimes think we are as unwise in 
 our discouragements as the farmer would be who expected a full ripe 
 harvest to spring up behind him when he was sowing his seed. It is a 
 comforting and reassuring truth that they that be for us are more than 
 they that be against us, that the Lord is not discouraged if we are, 
 and that the work goes on in winter as well as in summer. 
 
 I have been troubled some about the " reason " myself, and I suppose 
 I should be more than I am if I had not come to the conclusion that the 
 human reason, a variable quantity, must itself be formed by truths 
 and can see and judge no farther than it knows principles and move- 
 ments that we cannot understand to-day; some that seem irrational to 
 us we may find, when we can see farther and more clearly, to be part 
 of the Divine Order and essential to effecting the purposes of the Lord. 
 The most enlightened human wisdom cannot see more than an inch be- 
 yond its nose, and much of what we can see appears to be upside down. 
 So I try to console myself with the idea that things may be in good 
 form and order even if they do not seem to me to be so, and that the 
 
 -4 398 ^'~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 Lord knows what He is about, knows what He wants to do and how to 
 do it. 
 
 Besides, I find this result in my own experience. The more I learn 
 of the doctrines of the New Church the more rational they appear to 
 me, and as my reason improves I see more clearly the Divine Order 
 as revealed in those doctrines. So the way grows brighter at every 
 step and I am willing to trust that it will continue to do so. 
 
 I suppose you refer to the doctrine that the Lord has made His Sec- 
 ond Coming. There is some truth in that, but it may be held in a way 
 to make it an error. He has made it; but He has not completed it. He 
 never finishes anything in the sense of ceasing to work upon it and im- 
 prove it. He made man millions of years ago, and yet He has never 
 finished a man ami never will. He is at work now on the first human 
 being, and He will never cease to work upon him. The Lord is infinite, 
 consequently there is no past or future to Him. He is forming a heaven. 
 He is constantly at work. 
 
 I like your sermon much. We shall print ten thousand copies of it 
 and try to get as wide a circulation for it as possible. It seems to me 
 to be the best thing that has been said on the subject. I hope to get 
 copies to you this week. 
 
 The sermon to which reference is made in the letter to Mr. Goddard 
 is one that was published in the Helper. He also refers to it in one of 
 his family letters. 
 
 Pilii.ADKLiMiiA, Dec. 16, 1888. 
 By the way, the Helper has been a success. It has the largest circu- 
 lation of any New Church periodical, and is evidently perfomiiim tin- 
 use of tracts more efficiently under its new name tlian the tracts tliem- 
 selves as such. We publish this week a discourse by Rev. John God- 
 dard on " Robert Elsmcre, or the Parting of the Saviour's Garments," 
 which I think is unusually good, and I hope our people will supply 
 themselves with copies of it to hand to those who ask, " Have you read 
 'Robert Elsmere' and what do you think of it?" It is the best state- 
 ment of the good and evil of the book and the real meaning of it I have 
 seen. We have printed ten thousand copies of tlic number and hope 
 
 -M 399 }•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 there will be a call for ten thousand more. It contains a very good 
 statement of the New Church doctrine of the Word besides what it says 
 about " Robert Elsmere." So it will perform a double use. 
 
 The above is the first letter which mentions the Helper. This is a 
 periodical which developed from the custom of printing Mr. Giles's 
 sermons every week. The steps which led to it are so well expressed 
 in Mr. Worcester's biographical sketch of Mr. Giles that it seems best 
 to quote from it verbatim: 
 
 " Mr. Giles saw great value in tlie library and reading room connected 
 with the church, and did all that he could to develop their usefulness. 
 Here members of the congregation and strangers could find New 
 Church books and tracts; and here they could meet for study and vari- 
 ous church interests through the week. The uses of the book room 
 were organized under the name of the " New Church Book Association 
 of Philadelphia," of which Mr. Giles was made President. The work 
 of the " American New Church Tract and Publication Society " was 
 also transferred to these rooms, and Mr. Giles rejoiced to see its in- 
 creasing business giving regular employment to many of the young 
 people of the church. These active uses he saw would do much to 
 strengthen the love for the church and to extend the influence of Sunday 
 through the week. 
 
 The Tract Society had been organized in 1865, some years before 
 Mr. Giles came to Philadelphia. Through the generous cooperation 
 of the publishing house of J. B. Lippincott & Co., at a time when the 
 works of Swedenborg were almost unknown to the public and were re- 
 garded with prejudice by religious teachers, the society had been very 
 useful in publishing the books in handsome form through the usual 
 channels of trade. Mr. Giles was connected with the society from the 
 time of his coming to Philadelphia, and upon the death of Mr. T. S. 
 Arthur, in 1885, he became its president. During the years of his 
 association with the society, and largely through his influence, its work 
 greatly increased, especially in the publication of tracts. The print- 
 ing of Mr. Giles's sermons from week to week led to a regular weekly 
 distribution through the mails, which in time became so large that in 
 
 -<■{ 400 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 1888 for convenience and economy the tracts were given the form of 
 a periodical with the title of the Helper. The work continued to grow, 
 till a recent report of the Tract Society showed an average distribution 
 of Helpers and other tracts for the year of over one thousand a day. 
 
 The publication of books was meantime not neglected. In all this 
 work Mr. Giles was the leader. He always advocated printing as the 
 most economical and effective means of reaching the public, and did 
 much to awaken the church to the importance of this mode of teaching. 
 In recording their appreciation of Mr. Giles's service in its work, the 
 managers of the Tract Society said: "He has furnished the most use- 
 ful sermons, lectures and books for publication; he has, by his broad 
 sympathies and by his knowledge of the church throughout our country 
 and abroad, done more than any other to lift the society's work above 
 mere local uses to such as are of service to the church at large. His 
 annual reports, so full of love for tlie cause and of confidence in its 
 success, have called lorlh a general cooperation in the work of the 
 society, till it now has friends and supporters wherever the New Church 
 is known." 
 
 The beginning of the new year of 1889 finds Mr. Giles still conva- 
 lescing from his broken rib. It was not until the 19th of January that 
 he was able to preach again, and it was a long time before he fully 
 regained his strength. There was a good deal of work accomplished, 
 but it was done despite great drawbacks. His diary records a constant 
 struggle to pursue his work while suffering from headache, rheumatism, 
 and a confused feeling of llie head in which the brain acted with dilfi- 
 culty. Nevertheless he persevered, and early in llie year completetl a 
 book on "The Forgiveness of Sin." 
 
 During the composition of this and other things such remarks as 
 these were frequent in his diary: 
 
 My mind works slowly and I cannot get anything to suit me. Is it 
 the right feeling? Ought I not to be content when I do the be>t I can, 
 even if the result comes far short of what I could wisii.'' 
 
 Whii<' writing, one cause of dissatisfaction was that he would forget 
 what he had jireviously wriltcn. and in conscciut'iicc repeat himself. 
 His dogged perseverance and lack oi cnjoyincnt in the work were well 
 
 — ii 401 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 expressed in the words "Dig, dig widiout a spark of illumination!" 
 There was nevertheless no idleness. 
 
 A course of lectures on Marriage was delivered. These afterwards 
 formed the basis of the book, "The Sanctity of Marriage." Wliile 
 writing on " How True Marriages are Formed," he says: 
 
 I am trying to write a lecture and explain something which I have 
 never seen explained to my satisfaction, and I find much difficulty in 
 doing it. It is about as hard to explain a subject which requires spirit- 
 ual knowledge to one who is only natural, as it would be to describe 
 light to a blind man so that lie would perceive its nature. 
 
 A very important movement in the society this year was the forma- 
 tion of the Pennsylvania Association. This in its turn joined the Gen- 
 eral Convention. Of this my father writes as follows: 
 
 Our people are all rejoicing at the success of our meeting to form 
 an Association and at the prospect of being connected with the General 
 Convention. I can rejoice with them. This is tlie third society that was 
 out of the Convention and much opposed to it when I became its pastor, 
 that is now a member of it. If we can get it in successful operation 
 I think it will be of great use to the New Church in this part of the 
 country. I have never attended a more delightful meeting than we 
 had. 
 
 In his diary on April 25th he records the first meeting of the 
 Association: 
 
 This has been a day long to be remembered in our society. The 
 meeting convened to form an Association of the New Church. I de- 
 livered my address, which passed off much better than I expected. The 
 singing was spirited, and there was a good congregation. The Associ- 
 ation was formed by a unanimous vote of the society. About one hun- 
 dred and fifty sat down to luncheon. 
 
 This action of the society involved much correspondence, and there 
 were not only many letters to write, but a constitution to prepare. The 
 work, with some assistance from Mr. McGeorge, devolved upon 
 Mr. Giles. 
 
 -4 402 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 It was during Convention of this year, held in Washington, D. C, 
 in the Church of Our Father (Universalist) that Mr. Giles advocated 
 the building by Convention of a National Church, one that should fit- 
 tingly represent the New Church at our country's Capital. 
 
 The church of die Washington Society had been destroyed by fire, 
 February ninth of that year, and as Convention was expected to meet 
 there, the Universalists kindly offered the use of their church for that 
 purpose. 
 
 The following reflections from my father's diary need no introduc- 
 tion, and so are given without further comment: 
 
 June 2, 1889. We are travelers into the unknown and eternal future. 
 There is no fixed goal beyond which we cainiot pass. Our padi is the 
 truths or falsities we learn. We make our scenery and all our environ- 
 ment as we advance. Instead of going away from it we carry it with 
 us. It is constantly enlarged and varied and perfected by new truths, 
 and made beautiful and delightful by new affections, if we are learning 
 truths and living according to them. We are traveling and yet we are 
 not moving through space. We are traveling, and yet we are at rest 
 in one sense. We are obliged to use motion through space to express 
 and represent change of state. Yet tlie two are totally unlike one an- 
 other. We rise and yet we are in the same place. We advance and yet 
 we are at rest. 
 
 June 12, 1889. Old age has some hard lessons to learn; one of the 
 most difficult, perhaps, is to moderate activity and adapt it to the wan- 
 ing strength. I find that I am constantly forgetting that I am an old 
 man, tliough continually reminded of it. I am impatient witli my 
 body because it will not serve me as it has in die past. I am surprised 
 at its failure, and it is difficult to become reconciled to il. I don't know 
 that I ever shall, for I see so nuich that I desire to do, and some things 
 that it seems as if I could do belter. It seems as if I must do them. 
 I must force the body to do its work. 
 
 June 16, 1889. I sometimes wonder why I cannot realize spiritual 
 things more fully. Wlien I Jiray, why cannot I feel more distinctly that 
 the Lord is near and that I am addressing the glorified Jesus? Our 
 prayers, singing, and W()rshi|i need distinctness. In what a different 
 way we ask the Lord for lavors than a child appeals to its father or 
 
 -<■{ 403 }S^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 iiiollier. We do not ask witli definite |juipose the lliings we beseeeii Uie 
 Lord to give us. There is a vagueness about our prayers. It is rightly 
 called a service. I sometimes try to come to the Lord more directly 
 and with some specific want, but I do not succeed very well. Perhaps 
 we can only grow into this feeling of tlie nearness of the Lord and 
 of communion with Him. Perhaps a too clear perception of His per- 
 sonal presence would take away our freedom. We should be over- 
 come by it. 
 
 June 17, 1889. I have done very little to-day. Perhaps I have 
 grown some. Who knows! Growth is silent and at the time imper- 
 ceptible. The work of regeneration must be going on all the time, 
 when we rest as well as when we are active. It may be that the progress 
 is as rapid when we are asleep as when we are awake, though the action 
 is somewhat different. Plants grow as much at night as in the daytime. 
 Why should not men? The time we spend in sleep is not lost. The 
 most important influences are operating upon us unresisted by the 
 understanding. 
 
 June 18, 1889. The least physical effort exhausts me. My physi- 
 cal powers are rapidly failing. Is not tliis dying? Wlien we see a 
 plant failing, the leaves withering and ceasing to perform their func- 
 tions, we say it is dying. Why should we not say the same of ourselves? 
 It is equally true that the failure of our natural strength is a gradual 
 death. The physical organs can no longer perform their functions 
 with their accustomed promptness and vigor. Wliy? Because the spirit 
 from which they receive all their power is leaving them. It is losing 
 its hold upon them. They cannot receive influx from it, as a dying tree 
 cannot receive influx from the heat and light of the sun. Loss of power 
 is due to gradual death. Death is not so dreadful then. 
 
 June 20, 1889. I commenced writing a sermon this morning on 
 " The Blessedness of Faith in the Unseen," and wrote fourteen pages of 
 manuscript. The subject has been haunting me for some time. But 
 I am not making a success of it. I cannot express it or work it out as 
 I hoped. 
 
 As my natural memory closes I find myself coming into the state of 
 spirits and angels as described by Swedenborg; I cannot write from 
 
 -^ 404 }§«"-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 memory. Ideas come as I begin to write, — sometimes new ones, some- 
 times in unexpected forms. What I write or teach must be more from 
 influx into my mind as already organized than from any new regions 
 of knowledge, though the understanding and will may be constantly 
 perfected. Every one must have his limits. The mind will not go on 
 expanding in circumference, but perfecting in quality, and to that tliere 
 will be no end. 
 
 I try to keep my mind open to the reception of new ideas. I try to 
 think of them as gifts to me from the Lord, and the angels, and to offer 
 tlianks for them, and not to claim them as my own. It is only the love 
 of self that does this. How strong and deep it is! I do try to subdue 
 it. May the Lord help me to put it under my feet. 
 
 June 24, 1889. Duties faithfully done from right motives are means 
 of spiritual growth. This idea of growing is one that ought to be em- 
 phasized more than it is. All growth goes on in quiet and silence. 
 We must provide the food and keep in a proper state, and the Lord will 
 cause the growth. It is not done by any effort on our part. This is 
 a truth we ought to know. It is not by our might but by the Lord's 
 spirit. His love, like the heat of the sun, causes all growth. 
 
 July 1, 1889. I have read a little in "' Anna Karenina," and find some 
 states of a lover's mind which are true to nature and which I have 
 never seen described before. I brought a few of Tolstoi's books with 
 me, which I propose to read and learn if I can what lli(>re is in them that 
 is so remarkable. They must be inloresling as the |)roiluct of a Russian 
 mind. I have been diligently reading "Anna Karenina." What a pas- 
 sionate, lovely, and foolish woman she was! The married people are 
 of a remarkably jealous nature. Some of the scenes are wonderfully 
 drawn. Levin is an interesting character and quite naturallv devel- 
 oped. He grows upon me, and some of his opinions are (juile remark- 
 able for one who has never heard of the New Church. He is a good 
 example of the manner in which the new light is dawning upon men's 
 minds, though in im])erfect forms. One acquainted with the doctrines 
 of the New Church can see the gropings and failures, as a man whose 
 eyes are open can see the gropings of a blind man and how he misses 
 the objects he is seeking. Rut those who cannot see and are only reach- 
 
 --•b{ 405 )i»-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 ing after the truth may be in a better spiritual state and have more 
 spiritual life than those who can see but are content with that. 
 
 July 7, 1889. Every sentence in the Word is written for every one 
 and describes what is or may be in us. It describes the evil we may 
 become and the suffering we must endure, or the heavenly states we may 
 gain and the good we may enjoy. If we could read the Word with 
 this idea of its personal application to us it would have a much more 
 powerful influence upon us. 
 
 Abstract and impersonal conception of the truth robs it of the most 
 of its power. The principle applies to preaching. Our preaching lacks 
 personal application. We talk about things, about doctrines, and when 
 it is done in a pleasant way the people are pleased. They are charmed 
 with beautiful rhetoric, witli a graceful manner, and with a powerful 
 description of abstract evils and falses. But there is not enough of 
 " Thou art the man." 
 
 I was thinking this morning before I arose about writing some practi- 
 cal articles or sermons for the Helper that people must apply to them- 
 selves and that would be helpful to them. Could 1 not write some little 
 treatises on such subjects as these: "How to Bear Disappointment"; 
 "How to Assuage Sorrow and Bereavement"; "How to be Happy"; 
 "How to Overcome Evil in Ourselves"; "How to Bear Prosper- 
 ity " ; " How to Get the Most Good out of what we Possess." They 
 might be published in the form of little books about the size of our 
 pocket editions and sold for ten cents. These subjects suggest them- 
 selves: "How to Bear Poverty"; "How to Bear Sickness"; "How to 
 Get the Most Good out of our Social Relations"; "How to Find Bless- 
 ings in Domestic Life"; " How to Get the Most Good out of Labor." 
 
 Some of them might be written in the form of a story, or anecdotes 
 might be introduced to illustrate the principle. How easy it is to think 
 of things to do! How much easier than to do them! But if they could 
 be done even in a moderate degree of excellence they might be useful. 
 Shall I try? The whole secret of happiness lies in doing good to others. 
 The two great commandments are the key to happiness in every form. 
 Tliey open the door to every good. That would be as useful as " The 
 Magic Spectacles " or any other of the Wonderful Books. I certainly 
 
 -4 406 }?«...-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 could write a Christmas story for the children on the subject, "The 
 Magic Key." Let me think of it. 
 
 On July 8, 1889, a sultry day, he writes: 
 
 The trees sway gently, as though moved by a peaceful feeling, and the 
 leaves quiver with a quiet joy. They make no noise; only the poplars 
 occasionally rattle as with senseless laughter, a kind of giggling which 
 suggests motion without sense. Every tree has its voice, and when a 
 large number is strongly moved it is like an anthem. To-day the trees 
 do not "'clap tlieir hands." They are moved with a deep and quiet joy 
 which too much motion and noise would disturb. 
 
 If we could only live in the continual consciousness that what we call 
 nature is a constant creation by the Lord and the infinitely variable and 
 varying expression of His love and wisdom, how full and rich in moan- 
 ing it would be! 
 
 July 11, 1889. How will it be when we pass out of time and meas- 
 ure continuously by state? I suppose the change will seem very small 
 to us. Indeed, I presume we shall not notice it. But it will be a great 
 change in principle. We shall live in tlie present. We shall not dwell 
 in the past or fear for tlie morrow. Nothing will be artificial or facti- 
 tious or arbitrary. There will be no external obstacles to overcome. 
 Life will be the unfolding of what we have become by our deeds in this 
 world. We shall be in our place and doing our work and enjoying 
 what we have the capacity to enjoy. We shall live witli those we love. 
 Our place will be the one we are preparing here. How important be- 
 yond the measure of any earthly possession does this great fact make 
 our conduct in this life. We are laying the foundation on wliicli we are 
 to build forever. 
 
 July 15, 1889. 1 have been reading more about Swedenborg. Tlie 
 more I read the more wonderful he seems. He certainly was tlie most 
 remarkable man of whom we have any knowledge. He ranges through 
 all the planes of the iTcation and was great in every one. The time 
 must come when he will find his true \)\nvv in the scientific and religious 
 world. I feel as tliough I would like to make a constant study of his 
 character. i?ul what he revealed is miicli more important tlian the 
 
 -^ 407 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 man himself. He did not obtrude himself. He is the most impersonal 
 of men. He makes no claim for himself for his agency in communicat- 
 ing truth. He only asks attention to the truth itself. He was the most 
 unassuming and modest of men. But what a service he rendered to 
 humanity! He has revealed a new world, a spiritual world, to men. 
 He has opened the way and provided the means for the elevation of man 
 to a new plane of life. 
 
 July 18, 1889. The ground is covered with the blossoms of the 
 chestnut trees. The workmen are raking them off and they make quite 
 a windrow. They have done their work and now they pass away and 
 cease to hinder the work of forming the fruit. Is it not so with the 
 natural facts, the material ideas in the growth of our owti minds and 
 in every deed we do? We gain the reason, the way, of doing things. 
 We learn facts, we arrange and compare them and use them in ac- 
 complishing our work. But when we begin to work our mind is not 
 occupied with the reason but with the work. The natural ideas and rea- 
 sons have faded away and are set aside. They have not fallen from 
 us as the leaves and blossoms do, but they are laid away out of sight 
 of our consciousness, where they caimot disturb the action of the higher 
 faculties. They have done their work for the occasion and that goes 
 on. They have labored and other men have entered into their labors. 
 So the process of life goes on. How wonderful ! 
 
 Tile same principle applies to the decay of tlie material body. It 
 is a blossom which performs an essential service; and when it has fin- 
 ished its use, when it has done all it can for us, it fades and falls away, 
 and leaves us free from its encumbrance. " We all do fade as a leaf." 
 
 We can thus see in nature as in a perfect mirror the principles and 
 methods of Infinite Wisdom in accomplishing His purposes. Na- 
 ture is His book, and every object, every relation, every change is a 
 letter or word or sentence which reveals His heavenly wisdom. How 
 beautiful and instructive it would be if we understood it and would 
 voluntrarily practise the truth we learn from it! The works of the 
 Lord would be a constant revelation of His wisdom and loving care for 
 the happiness of men. 
 
 July 23, 1889. I have been reading some in Tolstoi's "Confes- 
 
 -^ 408 ^~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 sions." He was a remarkable man. His struggles for light showed 
 how earnestly he desired tlie truth. If he could have had Swedenborg 
 it seems as though he must have received the doctrines of the New 
 Church. He must find the light in the end. No sincere seeker for the 
 truth ever fails to find it. This is one of the comforting doctrines of 
 the New Church. If they do not find it in this world they will in the 
 next. The love of good begets the truth. It creates it, as the germ 
 in the seed creates the tree, its leaves and blossoms. So where there 
 is a real love of the truth the truth must come. It is a seed that 
 has life in it and it must move. There are many persons in the state 
 of Tolstoi. 
 
 July 26, 1889. To-day has been like all the rest. I am more im- 
 pressed with the idea that life is growth. The events of life are no 
 more to us than storms and cold to a tree. Tliey may retard or acceler- 
 ate growth for a time, but they are only incidental and temporary agen- 
 cies in causing it. Growtli takes place in the quiet sunshine, in the 
 night, and even in winter it is said the roots of trees grow. So regenera- 
 tion, or the growth of the spiritual degree of the mind as well as of 
 the material body, goes on while we are asleep and at rest and about our 
 daily duties. The truths we learn and the affections we exercise are 
 the food we eat and the water we drink; they are the material out of 
 which the spiritual mind is organized. But the organization goes on 
 while we are unconscious of it, like the digestion of our material food. 
 
 August 3, 1889. When I read I can understand what I read as well 
 or better than I ever could, but I cannot recall the words. But I sup- 
 pose it may be of some use to me. The ideas excited and formed by 
 reading must remain and become a part of the mind. 
 
 Tliere may be something better in this slate than we can understand 
 and appreciate. When we think from words we lliink from memory. 
 When we think from affection we think from the more interior forms 
 of the mind, from what we have made our own by life. Wlien we read 
 we do not accumulate new material so much as we make it the occasion 
 of using what we have, and building it into the organic forms of the 
 mind. If this is so, reading is useful even if we cannot remember the 
 words. It is an external means of exercising the mind and awakening 
 
 ~«{ 409 }■*•-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 the affections. It assists in the process of life and so it must be of some 
 use. It is to the mind what exercise for health is to the body. I must 
 not be discouraged then. 
 
 August 9, 1889. I have often woiulorcd what would cause my final 
 release from die material body and departure from the material world. 
 I think I know now. It will be the failure of the heart, and probably 
 it will come suddenly. This is just as I would choose to have it. Wlien 
 I have finished my work here I would like to depart at once. But still 
 we do not know what is best for us. So I would like to have it at the 
 time and place and in the manner the Lord sees best for me. 
 
 August 10, 1889. The true way to work is without any reference to 
 time; that is, to do to-day what our hands find to do without any refer- 
 ence to the past or future. This is the true mental position. This is 
 the state we shall be in in the spiritual world. We shall be wholly ab- 
 sorbed in the present. The present is eternity. Like travelers on the 
 ocean we do not pass through our horizon; we carry it with us. There 
 is no appearance of going from place to place. There is no place ex- 
 cept where we are. We must do our work as the screw of the steamship 
 does; we must keep turning where we are. If we could do this we 
 should accomplish much more than we do. 
 
 August 12, 1889. I received a number of letters to-day. Among 
 them one from a man who desires to publish a book of extracts from 
 my tracts, to be called " Living Thoughts " by Chauncey Giles. He 
 will make the extracts and put his name to the book as the compiler, 
 and do the whole work and be responsible for its issue through the 
 press. He thinks it would be useful. He says his only motive is to 
 make the trudi known to a wider circle of readers than have been 
 reached. 
 
 The man who proposes to do this is James R. Gilmore, who is an 
 author under the nom de plume of Edmund Kirke. 
 
 I do not know that there is any objection to it. Such a book might 
 be useful to some people in leading them to the New Church. I have 
 found two instances in which my article in " Tliat Unknown Country " 
 has had that effect. The Lord uses all kinds of means to make known 
 His new truths to men. 
 
 -^ 410 )§e-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 The following is from a letter: 
 
 Lake Gkorce, August 16, 1889. 
 
 I have succeeded for once in my life in creating a sensation. For 
 a few days I think I have been the subject of more conversation than 
 any man in the Sagamore. All my preaching never had half the effect. 
 I did not know that it was so easy to excite general attention. " It is 
 just as easy as rolling off a log." It did consist of rolling out of my 
 boat into the lake. The great event occurred on Tuesday. I must note 
 it down and fix it as one of the great land- (or water-) marks in my life. 
 When I came in from rowing the men who attend to the boats did not 
 see me. I waited a while, and as they did not come I concluded to get 
 out williout their assistance. I succeeded admirably in doing it. I 
 found no difficulty in getting out of the boat. But instead of landing on 
 the dock I got into the water. A gentleman who saw the performance, 
 and one of the boatmen, ran to my assistance and pulled me out. They 
 had one hundred and ninety pounds of flesh and blood to lift, and I 
 don't know how many pounds of water. I was thoroughly soaked, — at 
 least my clothes were. I slowly made my dripping way to my room. 
 Your mother, who was unconscious of the sensation I had created and 
 the great amount of water I was bringing her, exclaimed, " ^1\\, Mr. 
 Giles, you look wet! " 
 
 The drenched garments were soon replaced by dry ones and I was 
 quite refreshed after my bath. No unpleasant consequences resulted 
 from it but the notoriety occasioned by llie performance. 
 
 At the meeting of Convention in June, the committee appointed for 
 the |)urp()sc reported the purchase, for the use of the Theological 
 School, of the Sparks estate in Cambridge. 
 
 Mr. Giles, who had come to Boston to attend the opening exercises, 
 thus describes them in a letter: 
 
 September 26, 1889. 
 
 The trustees have purchased a beautiful piece of ground containing 
 sixty thousand square feet. There is a good house on it which will 
 accommodate the students for dormitories and recitation rooms for 
 some years to come. It seems to !)o the most im|i()rtanf step the Church 
 has taken to provide ministers to instruct and lead her. 
 
 -•€4411)3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 It was a rainy and unpleasant day; there were about one hundred 
 people present, as many as the room could comfortably seat. The 
 exercises consisted of reading from the Word, singing, prayer, and 
 short addresses. Rev. T. F. Wright, who is a professor in the school 
 and will have special charge of it, led in the exercises, but under the 
 direction of Rev. John Worcester, the President, who delivered a short 
 but excellent address. Other addresses were by Rev. S. F. Dyke, 
 C. Giles, and Mr. Dewson. The people were much interested and felt 
 that a good work had been initiated. 
 
 In tlie afternoon we had another meeting of the Board of Missions 
 and completed our work. We voted to raise five thousand dollars this 
 year and to recommend to all the societies of the New Church to take 
 up a collection for the benefit of the Board on the last Sunday in 
 October. 
 
 I think that the meeting has been a useful one, and that we have 
 taken some steps towards placing tlie work of the Board on a more 
 stable basis and given it the means of doing more work. 
 
 West Newton, Sept. 28, 1889. We drove over to Waltham yesterday 
 and called upon Mr. Benjamin Worcester at the school. It was a beau- 
 tiful day. He is devoting himself with great industry and success to 
 his school, and as far as I can see he is doing a good work. I do not 
 know of any school I would prefer for a son or daughter. 
 
 I called on Mr. John Worcester this morning and had a long talk 
 with him about Church affairs. He is working with entire devotion to 
 the Church and is exerting a good influence upon it. 
 
 In the following, from the diary, Mr. Giles makes the first mention 
 of " Why I am a New Churchman " : 
 
 Philadelphia, October 5, 1889. I spent some time to-day in block- 
 ing out a little book or lecture which I hope may be of use in making 
 known the principles of the New Church. It may be called " Why I 
 am a New Churchman." I think I can put the principles of the New 
 Church in a more simple and perhaps attractive form than by a merely 
 doctrinal statement. The subject grows upon me as I consider it, and 
 I am encouraged to hope that it may be one way of performing a use to 
 
 -4 412 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 the Church. Certainly every New Churchman ought to be able to give 
 a good reason for his faith. Such a little treatise may help others to 
 know and be able to tell why they are New Churchmen. I am deter- 
 mined to carry it out as well as I can, and to state the principles of the 
 New Church as clearly and sharply as possible. I will take my time 
 and to the extent of my ability I will make it a useful work. The sub- 
 ject is simmering and taking shape. I mean to consider it carefully 
 and not be in haste in putting it into print. 
 
 Mr. Giles became so interested in this that he set himself the task of 
 writing one tliousand words a day. He says: 
 
 I did my quota of one thousand words to-day. It seems a little tough 
 when one sits down, but the ideas come and tlie work is soon accom- 
 plished. How much might be done if this course were pursued. I 
 feel quite ashamed sometimes when I think how little I have accom- 
 plished. I might have done much more for die children by writing 
 stories for them, for which I had some talent. But I had no early train- 
 ing and I have stumbled along the most of my life. But by systematic 
 work I might have done much more. I may do some more yet. But 
 who can change his habits after seventy-six? " Can the leopard change 
 his spots?" Well, I will keep poking along a little longer. 
 
 On Dec. 11, 1889, he mentions the formation of a Young People's 
 League: 
 
 In the evening there was a meeting of the Young People to organ- 
 ize a society for social and spiritual purposes. A large number 
 was present and a good si)irit prevailed with an eanicst purpose to do 
 some work. I think it is a good movement and one that will result in 
 great use to those who engage in it, and to the Church. Young people 
 should have responsibilities placed u|u)n llicm and work given them 
 for which they are accountable as soon as ihey are able to |)erforni any 
 use. This is the only way in which they can be trained to work for the 
 Church. Old men do not like new inclhods. They get into ruts and 
 move slowly. 
 
 ~«( 413 }rt-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 When making a missionary trip to Savannah he stopped over in 
 Washington. Mr. Sewall called in the evening and he had a long talk 
 with him about the Church and its affairs. He says: 
 
 The people are much delighted with him. The attendance at church 
 has doubled since he came and they seem quite encouraged to hope 
 that a new day is dawning on the Society. 
 
 The days in Savannah were very busy ones. Mr. Giles spoke twice 
 on Sunday, gave two lectures during the week, besides an informal 
 talk (by request) on the "Spiritual World" at a social meeting. One 
 night he sat up very late and talked with a man who does not believe 
 there is any life after this. He says: " It did not do me any harm and 
 I don't know that it did him any good." He adds: 
 
 I am getting acquainted with the people and I think my coming will 
 be useful to them. They need help in many other ways than simply to 
 have the doctrines preached to them. They need encouragement to 
 work and to interest themselves personally in the church, and they have 
 much of the Southern latitude helplessness. 
 
 I tried to encourage them to engage in work for the church with the 
 hope that they would surely succeed in accomplishing something. 
 Their past experience is proof of this. I exhorted them above all things 
 to let no special view of truth divide them, but to stand on common 
 ground and cling together and work together. So I bade them farewell. 
 
 In Jacksonville he received a very cordial reception and spoke both 
 morning and evening, as he had at Savannah. At the close of his 
 letter he says: 
 
 I think I have done the people good at Savannah and here by coming. 
 But I believe I can be as useful at home as anywhere. A sermon pub- 
 lished in the Helper or as a tract reaches so many more people than I 
 can reach with my voice that I am inclined to think I can perform a 
 greater use by writing for the press and preaching at home than in any 
 other way. So when I return you may expect to keep me for some time, 
 — until after the holidays, at least. 
 
 -4. 414 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1887-1889 
 
 In November Mr. Giles went to Preston, Maryland, to dedicate a 
 small church there. Besides Uie morning service he lectured in the 
 evening. A man by the name of Alexander drove twenty-two miles to 
 attend the meeting and be baptized. Mr. Giles was much affected by 
 this circumstance. 
 
 After his return to Philadelphia he writes: 
 
 Reached home a little after eight, very weary but very glad I could 
 go. Nothing gives me so much pleasure as working for the Church. 
 I hope to be permitted to engage in it forever. 
 
 This friendly response to Christmas greetings was cherished for 
 many years by its recipient. Though short, it is very characteristic. 
 
 December 30, 1889. 
 
 So, Miss Beatrice, you wish me a Merry Christmas! Thank you. 
 
 I did have a very pleasant one, and that is almost as good as a merry one. 
 
 I thank you for your kind remembrance. I will keep your good wishes 
 
 and return them also. So neither of us will lose, but both will gain. 
 
 At the close of the year he writes in his diary: 
 
 December 31, 1889. I want to acknowledge in heart and life that all 
 my power is a constant gift from the Lord, and no credit to me for 
 anything I have done. 
 
 -•^ 415 )s—
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Philadelphu Pastorate, 1890-1891 
 
 X HE year opens with a very characteristic entry in the diary. It is 
 an instance of his frequent use of natural things to illustrate spiritual 
 trutli: 
 
 Jan. 3, 1890. I like to write. Thoughts come to me as I begin which 
 I was not conscious of before. Wlien the stream begins to flow it 
 brings with it new ideas. Strike the keys and some kind of harmony 
 or discord is the result. It is an important truth that each of us is 
 only an instrument as truly as an organ, but with power constantly 
 given us to open the stops. When we do the life flows in. We close them 
 too much towards heaven and open them too much towards the earth 
 and hell. By the knowledge we gain and the affections we exercise we 
 are giving variety and quality to the pipes and strings of our spiritual 
 organs. We are bringing them into the harmonies of the Divine order 
 or we are so disarranging and deforming them that they cannot vibrate 
 in harmony with the inflowing life or with one another. 
 
 Jan. 5, 1890. This has been an unpleasant day outwardly. Mr. 
 Worcester preached in the morning to a fair congregation considering 
 the weather and the general sickness. The subject of his sermon was 
 " Patience." It was useful to me, for I am an impatient man, and 
 I have great difficulty in overcoming the evil. Some things he said I 
 think will help me. 
 
 Jan. 7, 1890. And there shall not be any more pain. Wliat a de- 
 lightful prospect for the future. No more pain. I have not been free 
 from pain for more than thirty years. Some of the time it has been 
 intense. To be free from it! I hardly know what I should do. I 
 might act in a very absurd way, cut up all sorts of antics. But there is 
 no danger while I live in this house of clay. The use of pain might 
 be a good subject for a discourse. 
 
 -4 416 }>-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 Jan. 29, 1890. I have not felt like work to-day. Ought I to do 
 so? Ought we to be always working with all our might whether we feel 
 like it or not? Sometimes I think we work too hard. It is drive, drive, 
 drive. I notice in the account Swedenborg gives of the people of other 
 planets he does not say much about their being industrious. They must, 
 of course, be useful. But is there not a higher use than driving at some 
 task? Is it not as useful to converse with friends and help them in a 
 social and pleasant way as it is to dig long hours at any work? I am 
 not sure but it is so. 
 
 Feb. 2, 1890. I wrote the introduction to my new booklings and read 
 some in the Ibsen plays. They all went to church and I was at home 
 alone. I am afraid I am not going to be able to do much more work; 
 but I feel as though I could say more and belter things than I have ever 
 done. Perhaps not. What am I but an infinitesimal grain in the uni- 
 verse of humanity? What difference does it make whether I speak 
 or not? It must make some. The largest masses are composed of 
 infinitely small particles. The quality of the vvliolc depends u])on the 
 quality and order of the least. "He that is faitlilul in that which is 
 least is faithful also in much." My happiness depends upon my faith- 
 fulness in doing my little work. 
 
 Feb. 4, 1890. The sameness of life is wonderful. But how wisely 
 it is ordered that it is so! If the changes were great and rapid we should 
 be in a constant whirl. There would be no continuity in liic. As it is 
 we do change every day. But one state grows out of anotlier in such 
 a natural and orderly way that there seems to be great uniformity. 
 There is variety in uniformity, change in stability. There is something 
 constant by which to measure the change. But there is a new shade 
 of color and enlargement of fortn and dcvcldiimcnt of some particu- 
 lars. And yet it is the same tree, the same person, and still not the 
 same. So we shall go on to eternity. Of what we may become we can 
 have no conception now. Our highest wisdom consists in doing our 
 duty to-day. " He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also 
 in much." All growth lakes place in the least. That is the difference 
 between growth and creation, the difference between life and death. 
 
 Feb. 7, 1890. I read some in ■'Rosemary and Hue" by Lowell. 
 
 ~«{ 417 )g—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 He says many things wonderfully well. He has many classical and del- 
 icate allusions which adorn and enhance the interest of his poems, hut 
 they do not appeal to the affections. I think he fails there, and for 
 this reason his writings will never he so popular as Longfellow's. 
 
 I read some in " Heaven and Hell.' What a world-wide difference 
 between that and any other book on the same subject! There is a sim- 
 plicity, directness, and power about it which can be found nowhere 
 else in any work by any other man. While it purports to be a statement 
 of " things seen and heard " in the spiritual world, it is as logical as 
 geometry. He lays down certain fundamental principles, and the 
 whole book is the evolution of tliem. 
 
 Feb. 16, 1890. This has been a beautiful day. We had a large 
 audience at the church. I preached on the " Presence of the Angels at 
 the Holy Supper." I was much affected myself, so much so that I 
 could hardly speak at times. The cause of it was not so much what 
 I said as what the subject suggested to me. I had to stop in the closing 
 prayer for some time; I could not speak. I did not know but I should 
 be compelled to stop entirely. 
 
 I wish I could control myself better. I am sure it is a weakness and 
 must seem so to others. But I cannot help it. It often prevents me 
 from saying what I wish. I think I will not suffer my feelings to mani- 
 fest themselves, and I try to suppress them, but I cannot. Perhaps it 
 is better than it would be if I had no feelings and went through with 
 the service in a perfunctory manner. So I diink things equalize them- 
 selves, and I must be content and do the best I can with my temper and 
 nature. 
 
 Feb. 22, 1890. I must write a sermon on the " Perishable and the 
 Imperishable." All material things are perishable and are preserved 
 only by constant reproduction. The plant and the animal perish, but 
 the kingdom remains. It is like a river which is constantly passing 
 away but is constantly renewed. With spiritual things it is not so. 
 They remain. They cannot be annihilated. The flower fades, but the 
 idea of the flower remains. 
 
 Feb. 28, 1890. A more interior view of the truth grows upon me. 
 The knowledge of truth seems to stand out, to come out like trees from 
 
 -4 418 }§«.-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 a dissolving mist. Then they have life in lliem; they bud and blossom 
 and grow, and I hope will in time bear fruit. The spiritual world and 
 spiritual things grow more real to me and the grand prospect of an 
 immortal and never-ending existence seems so real and impressive that 
 it is almost ovcnvhelming. Natural things fade away and seem almost 
 nodiing. Oh, may I become more open to tlie reception of love and 
 truth from the Lord ! 
 
 March 24, 1890. Now I must see if I cannot do something more. 
 While reading to-day it came into my mind that I might write a book. 
 I have four sermons, the first of which, '" Learning to Live," would give 
 the title. Three others, "Learning to Walk," "Learning to Hear," 
 " Learning to See," would form chapters. I might take up other things 
 and show how we make progress only by learning the truth and doing 
 it. [These were published in book form after Mr. Giles's death.] 
 
 March 31, 189U. My book, " Why I am a New Churchman," is out, 
 and it is meeting with a ready sale. It seems to please. 
 
 April 17, 1890. I read the first part of a review of "Why I am 
 a New Churchman." It is written by John Bigclow and is done in a way 
 that I think all reviews of books should be. He gives such an account 
 of the contents of tlie little book that the reader can form some idea 
 of it. This gives some purpose and value to it. It is not praise or 
 blame that is needed, but some idea of the book. Then let people judge 
 for themselves. [This review was published in the New Church Mes- 
 senger.] Mr. Mann suggests tliat 1 should give a more detailed ac- 
 count of the way I was led to receive the doctrines, in the form of some 
 autobiographical articles to be published in the Messenger. 
 
 April 18, 1890. I have been thinking this morning about Mr. 
 Mann's suggestion. My mind ran over some of the leading incidents 
 which marked my progress from childhood to the time when I received 
 the first New Church book and llie first intelligence that such a church 
 existed. Some of them seem to me to be quite remarkable and I may 
 make a record of them. Some time! How easy it is to postpone to 
 some time. But my some time is very nearly over, if over, in this 
 world. 1 doubt whether I ever shall attempt it. But I may when I 
 can do nothing else. 
 
 -4 419 )3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 From a Letter to his Daughter 
 
 Philadelphia, Feb. 20, 1890. 
 I had a very interesting call from John Bigelow of New York a few 
 days ago. He came to tell me that he thought I could perform a greater 
 use now than in any other way by devoting my time to putting my writ- 
 ings into a more permanent form by publishing books. Tracts, he said, 
 were read and thrown aside, but a book remained with more or less 
 permanence. He said many pleasant things about my published ser- 
 mons. Among otliers he said he had read them for thirty years, and 
 he had never seen anything that was not good and well expressed. This 
 surely was very high praise from such a man. 
 
 That Mr. Bigelow was himself the author of valuable New Church 
 literature is not so generally known as it should be. These letters from 
 him, written later in the year, ask Mr. Giles's advice with regard to some 
 of his manuscripts: 
 
 To Mr. Giles from Jolin Bigelow 
 
 Highland Falls on the Hudson, Sept. 10, 1890. 
 This mail will take to you the manuscript of a paper I have been writ- 
 ing which some New Church friends who have heard it read, think might 
 serve a use if printed and circulated. People will not buy pamphlets; 
 it is a great deal of trouble to distribute them, and if you do not send 
 them gratuitously they rarely receive any attention. They are read 
 about in the proportion that the acorns which fall become oaks. If 
 there is any one in the land who can tell whether any good purpose can 
 be answered by publishing what I send you, and if so, where and how 
 it can be presented to the public to the best advantage, you are unques- 
 tionably that man. It has occurred to me that it would have a larger 
 circulation among New Church people in the Helper than elsewhere, 
 while it is too " religious " for any of our popular magazines and too 
 long for the Messenger, unless divided into two or three pieces, which 
 would be a disadvantage for those, if there should be any, who might 
 wish to send copies to people not interested in New Church literature. 
 If you can spare a half hour to run your eye over my manuscript and 
 
 ~4 420 ^'~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 another five minutes to tell me whether you see any way in which it 
 can be more useful than reposing in my portfolio I will feel obliged to 
 you, if you will do me that favor. Should you conclude, as very likely 
 you will, for I cannot claim to speak with any authority on theological 
 matters, that the portfolio is the place for it, I will only trouble you to 
 send it back to the above address, where it will serve, if no other pur- 
 pose, as a milestone in my spiritual pilgrimage. 
 
 After hearing from Mr. Giles, Mr. Bigelow writes: 
 
 Highland Falls, Oct. 17, 1890. 
 I am glad to learn that you think I can be useful to the Church witli 
 my pen. My life is so secluded that I have often felt like a man having 
 a large garden to till, who had neitlier spade, hoe, nor mattock, and 
 has more than he can do to keep down the weeds without attempting to 
 produce anything. 
 
 In the diary we find the following: 
 
 April 10, 1890. 1 had a visit from Mr. B , a Christian Scientist, 
 
 and we had a long conversation. I tried hard to find out what tlieir 
 treatment is, and what their principles are, and I think he tried to tell 
 me, but with poor success. All he said was, they sit by a patient and 
 Uiink of God, the Good. They do not pray to Him to heal die sick. 
 They do not think of the sick person. They sit with closed eyes and in 
 as passive a state as possible and think of the '" Good." He pretends 
 to have almost raised the dead. He called his cures " demonstrations 
 of the truth " of his theory. He does not believe tliat God has any 
 form, or that a spirit has any. He has the common falsity that God 
 cannot have any form because He is infinite, and form would limit 
 Him. But we can see that form does not limit. Take the iuiman body 
 as an example. The substances which compose its organs have no 
 power of sensation while they are diffused indefinitely through space. 
 It is not until they are organized into the human fonn lliat they can 
 be receptacles of life and be endowed willi sensation. We may gain 
 a hint from this of the truth that the Lord must be in the human form 
 in an eminent sense, — the human lorm in its origin and potentialities. 
 
 <■{ 421 }i*-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 I happened to be at home at the time this man called. Father ac- 
 companied him to the door, the man talking very persistently on the 
 way, assuring Mr. Giles tliat he could convince him of the truth of his 
 statements. Father replied with quiet, courteous decision: "I have 
 listened very patiently to your views. Your doctrines are false, and I 
 cannot allow you to take more of my time. I bid you Good evening." 
 Then the man departed, still protesting till the door was shut. 
 
 The diary continues: 
 
 May 15, 1890. I am importuned to go to Olney, Illinois, and dedi- 
 cate a church there. I declined at first, but they seem so urgent about 
 it and so many things conspired to induce me to go that I have con- 
 sented. I do dislike to omit any opportimity of saying a good word for 
 the Church. 
 
 Every man is an instrument unlike any other. He should play his 
 part. He only gives forth thoughts that are the form of his own mind. 
 His affections give quality to the voice. As an instrument on which the 
 Lord's Holy Breath plays it will constantly increase in purity of tone 
 and volume of sound by right of use. 
 
 There is not a certain amount of life stored up in man like water in 
 a vessel. Man has no life in himself. As he gives forth, life flows in. 
 This can be illustrated by the steam engine. The piston would not move 
 if the pressure were the same on both ends of it. Wlien it is removed 
 by the escape or condensation of the steam the pressure from the other 
 side moves it; so it is with life. When its currents flow out into act, life 
 and power from die Lord flow in and so motion is continued. 
 
 This principle can also be illustrated by the action of an organ pipe. 
 If there were no way of escape for the air there would be no vibration 
 in the pipe. But make an outlet and the current of air causes it to 
 vibrate and that sets the atmosphere in motion and causes sound. 
 
 April 7, 1890. Can it be true that we shall never be weary in the 
 spiritual world? Does weariness belong to the body alone? It cannot 
 be. There must be alternation. There must be a rise and fall. Life 
 cannot be an eternal ascent. That would be next to an eternal monotony. 
 There is no night there. But there must be shades of difference, de- 
 grees of light, that there may be comparison and contrast. Can there 
 
 -*3{ 422 }>'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 be any sensation in pure motion? Movement without any resistance? 
 It does not seem possible. There must be agents and reagents. How 
 wonderful is life! What a true miracle! 
 
 From a Letter to His Daughter 
 
 PiiiLADKU'HiA, May 26, 1890. 
 
 I believe to-morrow is the anniversary of your birthday. I remem- 
 ber it well. It was Sunday. How glad we were to welcome you; how 
 ill your mother was, and what difficulties we had to provide you with 
 food! We had a cow which we kept in a stable and many a time I 
 milked her at midnight to get sweet milk for your food. We had a hard 
 time to supply your wants. But you were " worth it." 
 
 What a terrible year that was! Your mother was so ill for a long 
 time that no one expected her to live. When she had somewhat recov- 
 ered I was taken with inflammation of the brain, and it was doubt- 
 ful if I should recover. You were sent away to Cincinnati to a nurse; 
 my school, which was the means of our living, was broken up, and there 
 did not seem to be much ground of hope for any of us. I had just 
 begun to study law, and was becoming much interested in it. But 
 your mother's illness, followed by my own, put an end to that, and 
 I rejoice that it did. The Lord sustained us, and brought us out 
 of all our trouble, and we are alive this day to attest His goodness 
 and mercy. 
 
 I am now in the hands of the dentist; have had three teeth extracted, 
 and a fourtli nearly so by mistake. Am living on soft things, but hope 
 in a few days to masticate a tender beefsteak. You see I am getting 
 ready for Convention. Your mother is also busy with the dressmaker, 
 and I hope with my new teeth and her new dresses we shall be able to 
 make an attractive and impressive appearance. 
 
 After Convention Mr. and Mrs. Giles went to Decatur. Illinois, the 
 town in which his two sisters lived. His comment on tlie visit was truly 
 prophetic: 
 
 I shall never see them again, in ;ill probai)ilily. It is too long a jour- 
 ney for iiu- lo make again, and I piisuine they will not visit us. We 
 
 ~«| 423 )9—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 have all been strangely led and I hope we shall meet in a heavenly 
 home. 
 
 While in Illinois Mr. and Mrs. Giles visited Olney, and there, ac- 
 cording to a promise made many months before, he dedicated the New 
 Church temple. The journey to Lake George was broken by a short 
 visit to Port Gibson with Mrs. Giles's sisters near Palmyra. 
 
 We now find Mr. Giles once more established at Lake George, plan- 
 ning new work. Even when comparatively inactive, his mind was busy 
 in clearly formulating the truths he loved so well. Extracts from let- 
 ters which follow show tliis: 
 
 The Sagamore, July 20, 1890. 
 
 I have begun to do some literary work. I have taken out my books 
 and am reading "Divine Love and Wisdom" and the "Apocalypse 
 Revealed " for light reading. I find them much more interesting than 
 a common novel. I have also written a few pages of a new book which 
 I hope to have well on the way before I go home. It is hard work, 
 and I shall not make much progress until my head becomes clearer and 
 stronger. 
 
 Lake George, Aug. 3, 1890. 
 
 I was thinking this morning of one very instructive and comforting 
 fact that frequently appears in the " Memorable Relations." We often 
 read of persons in the spiritual world praying for some special help, as 
 for angels to be sent to them to instruct them on some subject. In all 
 cases that I remember the prayer was immediately answered. Must 
 it not be so in this world when we ask for any assistance in learning the 
 truth and living according to it? I tliink so. 
 
 The Sagamore, July 24. 
 
 Your experience in finding more in " Divine Providence " is the same 
 as that of every one who desires to know what is good and true. I see 
 more to-day in every one of Swedenborg's works than I ever did before. 
 They are always new. This is one of the great proofs that they contain 
 the truth. There are endless and inexhaustible truths in them, and they 
 become clearer as our faculties are perfected and we are able to see 
 more. " Divine Providence " is a wonderful book. The more you read 
 
 -4 424 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 it the more you will see in it, and the more help you will derive from 
 it. We must first learn it as a fact that the Divine Providence is every- 
 thing and our wisdom as nothing compared with it. Then we may 
 gradually gain the power to acknowledge it. Knowing and acknowledg- 
 ing are entirely different things and are the product of different facul- 
 ties of tlie mind. Knowing is an act of the intellect; acknowledging, of 
 the affections. We may know a truth we do not love, which indeed we 
 hate and deny. But when we love it, we acknowledge it. We get an 
 entirely new conception of it. It becomes, as it were, a part of our life 
 and gives us power and becomes the receptacle of a larger and finer 
 quality of life. The difference is like that between the food we have de- 
 posited in the stomach and that which has become organized in the 
 body. 
 
 After the strenuous work of Convention, llic toil of travel, preaching 
 and meetings, the very atmosphere of nature's calm and its healing, re- 
 vivifying power are graphically set forth in the following extracts from 
 his diary: 
 
 Lake George, July 14, 1890. Another lovely day. I begin to feel 
 rested. The gentle repose of nature, the pure air and water, and the 
 good sleep, all tend to quietness of mind and rest of body. Man re- 
 sponds to nature. He is a most delicate instrument, to be played upon 
 by all its forces, to be fed by its substances, and to respond to its influ- 
 ences. The outward world was made for man and man for the outward 
 world. They are distinct parts of one whole. They relltrt each other, 
 they react upon each other. Nature responds to man. It is colored by 
 his moods and takes on tlie forms of his thoughts. The material uni- 
 verse is man's outer garment, which clothes and protects him ami minis- 
 ters to his wants. 
 
 September 19, 1890. H a tree could keep a daily record of its life 
 what could it say? " A day of sunshine. I felt warm and comfortable. 
 A pleasant breeze moved my leaves and sent a gentle thrill through my 
 body, but I have done nothing but breathe and exist. I do not see that 
 I have done any good or gaini'd any strength. Some children did come 
 and play in my shade, and a lady remarked how tall and beautiful I was. 
 
 -•S{ 425 )•>-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 So by the silent growth of many years I liave been able to perform some 
 use." Is it not so with men? The tree is doing something to increase 
 its usefulness. From the first it is growing, and if a fruit tree it is pre- 
 paring to bear fruit. If it is only useful for fuel or timber it is every 
 day and every moment collecting the materials from the earth and air, 
 from rain and light, and organizing them into a solid substance that 
 will serve for many human uses. So it must be with men. They are 
 collecting the natural and the spiritual substances which the Lord forms 
 into vessels for the reception of life from Him. We gather the mate- 
 rials which He provides and He makes the vessel, the house in which 
 He can dwell. He spins and twists the chords which can vibrate with 
 conscious delight to the inflowing of His life. The tree in performing 
 its use for fuel and light gives up its own existence. But it is not so 
 with man. He retains what he gives, and receives more by giving. So 
 he cannot lose anything by expressing his thought and affection; on the 
 contrary, he gains more than he gives. How much better is a man than 
 a tree! 
 
 Once more at home he writes : 
 
 Philadelphia, Oct. 19, 1890. 
 We had a pleasant service this morning. We tried to carry out our 
 idea of making the Holy Supper a more joyful occasion. But the 
 music was selected by the organist, and while it was very good it was 
 of a mournful character. It was of a quality which is supposed to be 
 appropriate. But it seems to me that this sacrament represents com- 
 munion with the Lord and the angels, and should be bright and quietly 
 joyous. Mr. Worcester gave us a good discourse. It was short, as 
 we expected it to be, and it was directly to the point. We must see 
 if we cannot have a service more worthy of the occasion. 
 
 In the autumn of this year my brother William, a graduate of the 
 Hahnemann Medical College in Philadelphia, had an opportunity to 
 practise his profession in Nyack, New York, entering at first into part- 
 nership with the resident physician there, and afterwards taking charge 
 alone. 
 
 My brother was the last of the children to leave home. He was a 
 
 -4, 426 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 stay and support to his parents; the ties of affection were strong and 
 the prospect of separation painful on both sides. 
 
 A help to him in going away was the promise given by Mr. Worcester, 
 and nobly fulfilled, of doing all in hid power to take a son's place to 
 my father and mother. The diary records something of tlie struggle in 
 Mr. Giles's mind while matters were under discussion. 
 
 November 10, 1890. I am not in a state very favorable to writing 
 sermons or anything else. Swedenborg says his mind was darkened 
 when his attention was directed to the cares of this world. I expect it 
 
 is so with me. Will's contract with Dr. D to go to Nyack and enter 
 
 into partnership with him in the practice of medicine does not come 
 to a conclusion and I feel some anxiety about it. I pray the Lord to 
 help me to trust implicitly in Him and I try to do it. But the natural 
 man will obtrude himself and cause solicitude. But we do not know 
 anything about what tJie results will be. I have prayed and do pray 
 that he may be led to do that which will be for his spiritual and eternal 
 good. I offered the same prayer for myself when I thought of buying 
 this house. 
 
 After a settlement was effected and my brother left for Nyack, the 
 diary records: 
 
 E. had a letter from Will. How dear he is to us! How much we miss 
 him! But we are glad to have him go, for his own good and tlie per- 
 formance of his use. We must part from him sometime. 
 
 Pliiladelphia, December 10, 1890. A few members of the church 
 committee met this evening. There was not much business but more 
 than usual talk. The subject of asking the congregation for additional 
 subscriptions for the support of the society was discusseil. and I was 
 asked to present the subject to the people. It seems there is a deficit 
 of about one thousand dollars in the treasury, and this must be made 
 up in some way. I often wish I hail money enough to supjiort myself 
 and the church also. It is a foolish wish without any doubt. It would 
 not be useful to me or the people. Yet th(>re is always such a struggle 
 to raise money and so much need of it. So much could be done that is 
 left undone, if we had the means. But I suppose it is best as it is. The 
 
 -••«{ 427 }§.-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 means of supporting the cliurch must be wrung from the natural man. 
 I suppose it does him some good. The only way we can get anytliing 
 from him is by squeezing him. 
 
 As Mr. Giles grew older, though his mind was as active as ever and 
 his plans for usefulness numerous and continuous, work was often in- 
 terrupted by the inevitable fatigue due to failing physical powers. In 
 his diary, when mention is made of something accomplished or in con- 
 templation, it is frequently qualified with such remarks as " Some one 
 else must take up the business," or " If I am here." Notwithstanding, 
 he persevered in doing what he could day by day, "for," as he ob- 
 served, " I must work while the day lasts." 
 
 Early in the year 1891 a series of lectures was planned on '" The Ap- 
 plication of Universal Spiritual Principles to the Conduct of Civil 
 Affairs." The first one was written under great difficulties, both phys- 
 ical and mental. Of these lectures he says: 
 
 Jan. 23, 1891. It seemed to me this morning as if I could not write 
 a word. I was stupid; the words would not come. But I knew I must 
 write, so I sat and pondered and dipped my pen in the ink and pulled 
 my beard. Sometimes I seemed to get in sight of some dim form of 
 thought and then it would vanish away. But finally the fog lifted a 
 little and I saw my way for a few steps, and then I saw farther, and in 
 the end I succeeded in writing about as much as I did yesterday. 
 
 The next day Mr. Giles suffered so much from rheumatism that he 
 was almost helpless. When the pain had somewhat diminished he 
 attempted again to write. By lifting his right arm on the desk with 
 his left, and moving his paper instead of his hand, he managed, very 
 slowly and painfully, to finish his discourse. This was delivered on 
 Sunday to a large and attentive audience and apparently Mr. Giles 
 was no worse for it. But tlie night after, began a serious and very 
 distressing illness. Even he, inured to pain as he was, could not keep 
 from groaning, and at times calling upon the Lord for mercy. The 
 course of lectures had to be given up, much to his disappointment. 
 Of this he says: 
 
 This is the second time I have been compelled to discontinue a series 
 of discourses after delivering the first one. But we do not know what 
 the result might have been if I could have completed them. Wliat is, 
 
 -^ 428 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 only concerns us. We must do the best we can under the circumstances, 
 whatever may be our hindrances. 
 
 More and more was his natural life interwoven with the spiritual; 
 events and conditions here were constant reminders or suggestions of 
 their correlatives there. Thoughts of our homes in the other life were 
 brought out by a friend's letter telling of alterations in his house. 
 
 PlllLADKLlMllA, Jan. 13, 1891. 
 
 And you really and surely have got into your regenerated house! 
 Well, I congratulate you. I hope it will prove to be all your fancy 
 painted it. It must be fresh and charming. I hope you will feel at 
 home in it and that your new environment may react and help in the 
 creation of new states witliin. I suppose the change does not consist 
 in restoring die old, but in replacing with something new and more 
 convenient and more in harmony with new states. So I suppose our 
 spiritual houses will continue to change. New rooms are constantly 
 being added to them and new furniture to the rooms, new pictures on 
 the walls and new conveniences for the new states. Isn't it a glorious 
 prospect! And then the alterations, the enlargements and additions, 
 are not attended with any litter, rubbish, or delay. They will not be 
 patched on. They will grow out of the former states and be exactly 
 accommodated to our ideal. Such improvements are constantly going 
 on in our " house not made with hands," while we wake, and especially 
 while we sleep. 
 
 I sometimes think I would like to write a book comparing the natural 
 with the spiritual in a great number of special things, showing how they 
 differ and how they agree, and especially setting forth the supreme ex- 
 cellence of the spiritual state. If I could write all the books I can think 
 of — what a task it would be to read them! I won't do it. I will be 
 merciful. But what books somebody will write in the far if not in the 
 near future! 
 
 On receiving a gift of a quantity of paper he said: 
 
 I looked at the pile and said, "There is the remainder of my life's 
 work before me." So I began at once, and diere are five sheets less 
 dian when I commenced. 
 
 -4 429 |S^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 When he was well enough to preach again he said: 
 
 It was very pleasant to stand in the old place and speak to the people 
 once more. This is my use. I am quite sure of it. I have been fortu- 
 nate enough to be led into it and to labor in it for many years. Sweden- 
 borg says, " It is the delight of the angels to teach others." I hope it 
 will he mine. I want no better occupation through eternity. 
 
 My father was very affectionate, and it was always a pleasure to him 
 when any of the children came home. After such a visit he writes: 
 
 The children bring us new life. We renew our youth in them. It is 
 one of the beautiful provisions of the Divine Providence that parents 
 should nurse and educate their children in the first years of life, and 
 that children should cheer and brighten their parents' declining years. 
 In true order this would always be so. Unfortunately for both, it is not 
 always the case now. This law of the elder caring for the young is a 
 universal one. The principle applies to spiritual as well as to natural 
 life. Those — all — who have passed into the spiritual world are 
 busy working for those who remain behind; cherishing in them the 
 germs of spiritual life. Old people need young and fresh life around 
 them to keep them from drying up. The provisions of the Lord in 
 having a fresh current of life flowing into tlie old is useful for young 
 and old. These universal laws which are so constant in their operation 
 escape our notice by their very continuity. We regard them as a matter 
 of course, and so do not see the wisdom of the Lord in them. 
 
 When the Easter festival was held Mr. Giles says: 
 
 I read a little story about a robin in which I tried to illustrate some 
 New Church truths, and especially the fact of a resurrection. The 
 children listened more attentively than they would have done to any 
 speech, and I presume many of them caught the meaning of the illus- 
 tration of the resurrection. In the story of the robin an idea came to 
 me about the resurrection that seems worth preserving. It is this: the 
 only way any living thing can get into this world is by a resurrection. 
 The seed is buried in the groimd, the plant is raised out of it. It is a 
 
 -^ 430 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 189Q-1891 
 
 resurrection in two ways. It is a resurrection of the plant from the 
 seed. In reality it is a resurrection of the seed. We cannot raise an 
 apple or a nut directly from an apple or a nut. I thought of asking 
 the children how to get an apple out of an apple or a nut out of a nut! 
 It cannot be done directly. There must be " first the blade, then the 
 ear; after tliat the full com in the ear." 
 
 On the 23d of May he makes some comments on the meetings of 
 Convention: 
 
 The debates when there were any were carried on in a kind and good 
 spirit, and satisfactory conclusions were reached. The afternoon was 
 devoted to the cause of missions. There were several speeches; all 
 were too long. I was appointed to close the subject and made a few 
 remarks. While I was listening to the speeches, die words of the un- 
 faithful man who received one talent kept ringing in my ears: "" 1 hid 
 it"; and I made that my text. I did not speak more than five minutes. 
 The meeting must have had some effect, as the collection amounted to 
 thirty-three hundred dollars. 
 
 It has been the most useful Convention I ever attended. I can liardly 
 conceive how it could have been better. There were no dissensions. 
 If we can go on in this way we shall arrive at a unity which will express 
 the will of the whole body and not the will of one person who has su- 
 preme aufhoritv. This is an ideal stale but it can be attained, and it 
 will be when die members of die churcii become sufliciently wise and 
 loving. I have been working for this state and I am sure some progress 
 towards it has been made. Wlien we attain this harmony our meetings 
 will be occasions in which all the members will seek to give and receive, 
 and be more delighted to receive light and be instructed dian to give it. 
 
 Early in July the quiet, peaceful life at Lake George, so much en- 
 joyed by my moUier and fadier, began again. It was a lime not only 
 for physical rest, but for communion with nature and meditations on 
 many subjects. Some of these as recorded in liis diarj' and in letters 
 are now given. 
 
 The Sagamore, July 4, 1H91. Kv<'ryliiing liere looks more Ixaiitilul 
 than ever. Is it really increasing in beauty or am I gaining power to 
 
 -^ 431 )«►-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 enjoy? It is Uie beauty of the Lord upon the earth. The sun is His, 
 rising with glory and vivifying warmth; the trees are the forms and 
 manifestations of His intelligence and love for man. Everything 
 speaks of His Wisdom and Love. 
 
 July 10, 1891. It seems singular that we cannot break up an evil 
 or injurious habit more easily. We see the evil of it. We resolve to 
 put it away, but resolving and doing are two quite different things. 
 
 I think we can see that it is best that it should be so difficult to change. 
 If it were not, there would be no stability in life. The good as well 
 as the evil dispositions would not become permanent. There would 
 be nothing stable or constant. We ought not to expect to be able to get 
 rid of a bad habit at once. If we did not we should not be so often 
 disappointed and discouraged. 
 
 I have begun to read the "Arcana " again since I came here and I see 
 more new and wonderful things in it than ever before. I begin to real- 
 ize something of the infinity of the Word. I can see how one word may 
 contain infinite truth. It is related to all others, and so in a sense 
 contains them all. 
 
 I am struck more and more with the scientific accuracy with which the 
 natural imagery is related to all other facts, and the logical certainty 
 with which one step necessitates and follows another in the literal sense; 
 and then the new worlds of truth which are revealed by the opening of 
 the spiritual sense. It seems miraculous. How can it be that such 
 natural events and objects as compose the letter should introduce us 
 into the spiritual world, reveal the inmost principles of human nature, 
 and more especially the Divine nature! It seems incredible. But the 
 more we penetrate beneath the surface of the natural meaning the more 
 clearly we see that it is so. There are so many wonderful things about 
 the Word that I am surprised that we do not appreciate and prize it 
 more highly. I was much impressed with the truth, which I have 
 known before, that by means of the Word we have consociation with the 
 angels and conjunction with the Lord. I knew it and I did n't know it. 
 It came to me the other morning with wonderful clearness and power. 
 When we read the Word with any degree of feeling that it is the Word, 
 the spirits connected with us imderstand it in their degree and capacity, 
 
 -4 432 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 the spiritual angels in a much higher degree, the celestial angels in a 
 still higher and ineffable degree, and it rises and is lost to human ap- 
 prehension in the infinite Divine. It is a golden chain which conjoins 
 man with angels and the Lord, and which freely conducts the Divine 
 life in angelic forms to the minds of those who are reading it. It 
 awakens affections in the hearts of the angels which flow down to us. 
 We may not perceive its power. Their touch may be so gentle as 
 to make no impression upon tlie hard and unyielding forms of our 
 minds. 
 
 But it is a most important truth and gives us a hint of the great use 
 of reading the Word in a reverent manner as the Word of the Lord. 
 
 Aug. 2, 1891. This is one of those days of heaven upon the earth 
 which can only be found in their perfection at Lake George. The 
 heavens are deep blue, with a few luminous clouds moving slowly and 
 silently above the earth. I say above the earth because they belong to 
 the earth more than to the heavens. The dark green of the wood and 
 hills is illuminated with the soft light of the sun. It is not flaming or 
 burning. It seems to shine through them rather tlum to he reflected 
 from them as the light of truth through an honest face. There is just 
 movement enough in tiie leaves and gentle swaying of the branches to 
 indicate motion and a sweet consciousness of life received and life 
 communicated. The leaves rest upon the air as though they felt the 
 pervading and penetrating warmth and were gently smiling widi the 
 joy of it. The lake lies in the bosom of the hills, not sleejjing. but 
 quiet, as if too much motion would disturb its repose of thought and 
 consciousness of feeling. In some places it is a perfect mirror reflecting 
 cloud and sky, the hills and trees, or rather holding them in the 
 depths of its inmost consciousness like ideas in the mind, as though 
 it were quietly thinking about them and receiving an impress of 
 their nature. Oh, the beauty of the earth, the glory of it, the peace 
 of it! There is a Sabbath in the trees and in the water. The birds flit 
 noiselessly about. Their singing is sweeter and partakes more of peace 
 than joy. 
 
 As I sat under the trees on the lawn this morning and looked out over 
 the quiet lake and up to Uie grand and quiet heaven, everything said 
 
 -4 433 )9»~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 peace and conscious rest. The beauty and the glory of the Lord were 
 upon the eartli. It was a grand and perfect picture of the repose of the 
 soul. 
 
 Aug. 4, 1891. The days slip silently by. But what are days in 
 reality? Nothing but states of life as to our intelligence. Every new 
 truth is a new day. Those wlio gain new truths are living new days. 
 Those who do not are not living. They are not multiplying days. One 
 may live more days in an hour than others do in a week or a year. If 
 I have learned any new truth this summer I have multiplied my days. 
 
 Aug. 14, 1891. The days pass swiftly away and leave no perceptible 
 trace behind. But every one does leave its mark without any doubt. 
 But the lines are mostly invisible to us. If a tree were conscious of 
 its life in the beginning and had a distinct aim to have a powerful trunk, 
 immense limbs, covered wiUi many leaves, blossoms and fruit, I think 
 it must become discouraged at the slow growth. What would it say 
 and how would it feel when the frosts came and the leaves began to 
 wither, and the flowers to fade and the fruit to decay? Would n't it be 
 discouraged and think there was no use in trying? I am sure it would. 
 How little it grows in a year! Could it discover that it had gained any- 
 thing in one day? 
 
 Aug. 15, 1891. "The Lord meets us in our deeds," Swedenborg 
 says. It is not in our thought or in our affections, but in our work. 
 I have thought much of this. " Religion," he says, " is doing." Knowl- 
 edge or faith alone is nothing. It must be combined with a useful deed 
 to become anything. Truth is nothing by itself alone. It is a machine 
 without power to impel it. It is a vessel which contains nothing. The 
 two, substance and form, can be conceived apart but they have no sepa- 
 rate existence. They are the air witliout lungs, the lungs without air. 
 They must come together. 
 
 One event of the season at Lake George was a very important one to 
 my mother and father. September 8th was the fiftietli anniversary of 
 their marriage. The diary thus records the event: 
 
 Sept. 8, 1891. Fifty years ago to-day E. and I set out on the journey 
 of life together. It was a beautiful day. The air was soft and the 
 
 -'4 434 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 sun bright. How little we knew of the nature of marriage and what 
 was before us. It is one of the striking instances of the wisdom of the 
 Divine Providence that a young man and woman can come into such 
 intimate personal relations and live happily together. This shows as 
 clearly as any testimony can, that man and woman were made for each 
 other. 
 
 But they were not to be allowed simply to commemorate the day by 
 thoughts of the past. Extracts from various family letters tell of the 
 happy celebration of the event. 
 
 The anniversar)' of the "Golden Wedding" has passed, and your 
 modier and I are on the way to the " Diamond Wedding," which we 
 have no expectation or ambition to reach. We had quite a grand cele- 
 bration, though not one of our relatives was present. It seemed quite 
 strange to be the subjects of so much congratulation at a hotel and sur- 
 rounded for the most part by mere casual acquaintances. The greetings 
 were very cordial and we were quite the centre of attention and interest 
 during the day. Mr. McGeorge was here and he suggested to Mr. 
 Burnham and some of our friends that they should give your motlier 
 and me a dinner. They entered into it with enthusiasm, and tliough 
 there was only two days' notice, a beautiful and luxurious dinner lor 
 twenty-three persons was prepared. There is a small dining room on 
 one side of the large one, and opening into it, where the table was set. 
 The room and the table were lavishly and beautifully adorned with 
 flowers. One gentleman, whom I never saw until this summer, tele- 
 graphed to Albany for roses and other flowers, and a magnificent 
 bouquet was placed in the middle of the table in front of your mother 
 and me. The table and the room were really beautiful. 
 
 The dinner was served in courses and was a very luxurious one. A 
 large piece built up in quite a remarkable way, composed, I presume, 
 of candies, with 50 on top was brought in and shown to the guests. Two 
 kinds of wine were served and a licautilul wedding cake willi I fill 
 and 1891 in the icing on the toj). It was first carried round and 
 shown to the guests and then |)laced before me to put the knife into it. 
 It was tlien cut by the waiters and passed. 
 
 -li 435 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Mr. McGeorge sat at one end of the table and Dr. Vanderwater at 
 the other. Mr. McGeorge made a brief speech and read a letter from 
 William Hobart. It was a most excellent one, and was endorsed by 
 two pages of names of my old friends and parishioners in Cincinnati. 
 Rev. Dr. Vanderwater responded with some very excellent remarks; Dr. 
 Balles, a Universalist minister from New York, also made a short and 
 very complimentary speech. I responded in a very few remarks, thank- 
 ing them for their attentions. 
 
 I presume there would have been much more speaking if Mr. Mc- 
 George had not been obliged to leave in time to catch a train at Cald- 
 well. Mr. Simpson kindly invited the company to go in his yacht with 
 Mr. McGeorge. We all got aboard immediately and had a delightful 
 trip. It was a lovely day and this seemed a charming and fitting close 
 to the celebration. 
 
 From the many letters on this subject only a few, such as would be 
 of general interest, are given: 
 
 From Mrs. Giles to her Daughter 
 
 We trusted to Mr. McGeorge to tell you all about the dinner, etc., at 
 Lake George. No doubt he enjoyed the recital as much as the circum- 
 stance itself. It was a wonderfully well arranged affair. Everything 
 seemed to conspire to make it an entire success; even the weather was 
 just beautiful. And the sail was delightful. The souvenirs we gave to 
 the kind friends who were there was a picture of your dear father's 
 study. It seemed to give them great pleasure. I did not think of it 
 until after Mr. McGeorge had gone. When we returned from our sail 
 we found a flower piece made by one of the musicians hung on our 
 door, with the dates 1841 and 1891 made of goldenrod and encircled 
 by a wreath of evergreen and white asters. 
 
 Your dear father and I had quite made up our minds not to take any 
 special notice of the day. So that Mr. Howells' letter, the first we 
 received, and all succeeding ones were quite a surprise. When Mr. 
 McGeorge first spoke to us about the dinner I proposed to your dear 
 father that we should elope. But as that did not seem on the whole a 
 
 -^ 436 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 very gracious thing to do, we let our friends have their way, which 
 proved to be a very enjoyable one for us and for tliem. 
 
 On our return to the Sagamore we found a great batch of letters 
 awaiting us, among them one from W. D. Howells. 
 
 From W. D. Howells to Chauncey Giles 
 
 Intervale, Sept. 3, 1891. 
 
 I am just returned here too late to meet your daughter, of whom my 
 wife has had so much to tell me, and who has left word that your 
 Golden Wedding Day falls upon the 8th inst. riiis enables me to join 
 your other friends in the offer of good wishes for yourself and Mrs. 
 Giles. You once filled so large a place in my life, and my childhood 
 owed you so much, diat it seems as if I had some personal part in the 
 happiness your own children must feel in the approaching anniversary. 
 
 I have seen my father within a few days, and, as always, we spoke 
 of you. If he knew I was writing he would wish to unite his congratu- 
 lations with mine. 
 
 Willi the affectionate regards of my wife to Mrs. Giles and yourself, 
 I send you my love and gratitude. 
 
 To Mr. W. D. Howells from Chauncey Giles 
 
 Lake George, Sept., 1891. 
 Your kind note in which you congratulate Mrs. Giles and me on 
 reaching llie golden milestone of married life gave us a great deal of 
 pleasure, and we sincerely thank you and Mrs. Howells for your con- 
 gratulations. It is an unusual, perhaps, but not a great attainment for 
 a man and woman to have lived together fifty years. The honor and 
 the blessedness of it consists in continually drawing closer together and 
 becoming more truly and, as we in the New (]luinh would say, more 
 " distinctly one." We have learned one important lesson that husbands 
 and wives are slow to learn; and that is, that marriage is a gradual and 
 continuous process which is cfTectcd by renunciation of those traits of 
 character which are not homogeneous and cannot l)c made so, ami the 
 attainment of those elements that will combine, it is a continual pro- 
 
 --4 437 Ja^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 cess of losing our natural, selfish life and finding a higher and richer 
 one. 
 
 Marriage is the only alembic in which the baser metals can be trans- 
 muted into gold. I trust we have found something of this in our own ex- 
 perience. At least we have the happiness of knowing that our married 
 life has not been a failure, but has been a growing success, so that the 
 .last year has been tlie happiest of the fifty tliat we have lived together. 
 We have lived more together than ever before. 
 
 I want to thank you for the " Boy's Town." I have enjoyed reading 
 it very much indeed. It carried me back to tlie first year of our mar- 
 ried life and recalls many scenes which had faded from my memory. 
 I think you have entered into the boy's nature and described it in a most 
 graphic way. It is one of the best examples of realism in literature. 
 It touches me more than it might some others, perhaps, because of its 
 local color. But it contains much that any man who has not ceased to 
 be a boy can understand and appreciate. 
 
 The " Boy's Town " occupied a most important place in our lives, 
 and we shall value the book for the memories it contains and for the 
 kind wishes of the author. Mrs. Giles unites with me in heartily recip- 
 rocating for you and Mrs. Howells your kind wishes for us. 
 
 From friends in the Cincinnati Society 
 
 Cincinnati, September, 1891. 
 
 In this golden era of your married life the thoughts of those who 
 were connected with the society where your first pastorate was located 
 naturally go out to you. 
 
 Like yourself, there are so many of your old friends summering that 
 but few can unite in any communication, and as the church services 
 have not been resumed, we have no opportunity of coming together at 
 a general meeting. 
 
 The only course open, therefore, to those of us who can see each 
 other is to write to you and express very feebly on paper our abiding 
 love for our former pastor, and our most sincere and hearty congratu- 
 lations on his reaching a day that comparatively few attain. 
 
 You will readily connect each one whose name is appended to this 
 
 -4 438 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 in some way with the church and your association witli it. You pro- 
 nounced the sacred words uniting some of us for life, you have wel- 
 comed some who stood before the altar as members of the New Church, 
 and some of us you have taken in your arms as infants and pronounced 
 the Saviour's blessing. You have comforted many of us in trouble and 
 affliction, pronouncing tlie last words in laying away the earthly part of 
 those dear to us. 
 
 In thinking of our past relations to you and with you, in every way 
 we find happiness and love, and there can be no time in which we can 
 so feelingly express it as diis. 
 
 You taught us whence comes tliis pure gold, and if it has reached 
 our real selves it has been with your help; and now that you have lived 
 to see this representative golden day we feel how much that pure gold 
 has been to you all these years, and how it has added to your happy 
 union. 
 
 While we have addressed you as our former pastor and teacher, we 
 do not at all forget the one who has been with you all these years and 
 has so wonderfully helped to make your life what it has been, and with 
 whom influence and action have always been opportune and strong. 
 
 Our love and congratulations are equally extended to her, and our 
 hearts are full of tliankfulness to the Lord that she has been kept by 
 your side so long. 
 
 With the most earnest and heartfelt wishes for many years of useful- 
 ness and happiness (synonymous terms for both of you) we are most 
 affectionately Your friends, 
 
 William N. Hobakt & seventy others. 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. H. C. Thompson 
 
 Septembrr, 1891. 
 Dear Friends: The rich and chaste paper knife and penholder came 
 safely to hand last night and you shall have the first fruits of their use. 
 They are too beautiful for common occasiotjs; they must be consecrated 
 to golden uses. We have been dreply touched by tlu' afTcclion which 
 our completion of fifty years of married liie has called out. It gives us 
 strength and courage to be content Id i)rolong die journey and do a 
 
 —ct 439 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 little more work in this bridal tour before we settle down to our life's 
 work in our eternal home. We find increasing evidence that we are 
 nearing it. We find it necessary to make shorter stages, to rest oftener 
 and longer, and we grow weary with little exertion. Our hold upon 
 natural things grows weaker, our sight grows dim, our limbs are un- 
 steady, and this world seems less substantial and real; it is leaving us 
 and fading away. 
 
 On the other hand, the spiritual world is drawing nearer. It is be- 
 coming more substantial, its objects more real, its form more distinct. 
 We feel as though we were nearing home. So, dear friends, the golden 
 age is coming to us or we are approaching it. We know it by the 
 " golden rain," and " the dove fluttering its wings in the window." 
 
 I hope we may be present at your Golden Wedding. I think we shall 
 be, either as visible or invisible guests. We thank you for the beautiful 
 reminder that you were present in thought and affection at ours, and 
 that you are taking the journey with us to our future homes. That you 
 may be sustained and comforted by heavenly ties as the earthly ones 
 grow weak and are dissolved, is the sincere prayer of Darby and Joan, 
 alias Chauncey and Eunice Giles. 
 
 Several entries in his diary give an additional history of this happy 
 time. 
 
 November, 1891. The first organ recital of the season was given in 
 the church this afternoon. The church was well filled and the music 
 was very good. 
 
 Mr. Lewis met us on the steps as we were going into the church and 
 said he had something to show us. He led us into the Ladies' Parlor 
 and placed a small package before us, and asking us to examine it, he 
 left us. On opening it we found forty-five gold eagles and five double 
 eagles. There were fifty pieces of gold of the value of five hundred and 
 fifty dollars. E. and I were very much surprised. I had no idea that 
 anything of the kind was projected. It was a gift for our golden wed- 
 ding. The people are very kind and we are much touched by their 
 goodness. We have received nothing but kindness from them since we 
 came here. 
 
 -4 440 ^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 About seven weeks after the Golden Wedding the youngest member 
 of the family, William, was married to Miss Henrietta Peck of Phila- 
 delphia. My father performed the ceremony, and two little girls, one 
 a niece of the bride, the other one of the grandchildren, were brides- 
 maids. My brother, a physician, had been practising his profession in 
 Nyack, New York, for some time, and so the new home was begun there. 
 
 October 28, 1891, Father writes in his diary: 
 
 The children are gathering for die wedding and they will all be here 
 to-morrow. It will be delightful to us to see them. We have not had 
 a full meeting of all the family since llie dedication of the church, and 
 we may never meet again at the same time and place. I am very weary 
 and I know I cannot work much longer. May they become the Lord's 
 children, and may we all meet in heaven. 
 
 These words were prophetic, for the next family gathering was two 
 years later, when we met to attend my fatlier's funeral services. 
 
 The life of a professional or literary man is so much in matters of 
 the intelloi t that an account of the trivial events of every day do not 
 seem to represent it fairly. Side by side with his record of these oc- 
 currences there are many reflections upon spiritual subjects in the 
 diary. With pen in hand, my father thought from the point of it, and 
 so these meditations very truly represent his inner life and character. 
 
 October 6, 1891. Our unconscious acts have some effect upon char- 
 acter as well as those things we do of distinct purpose. How large a 
 part of the activities and changes of the world and in vegetable life 
 are unconscious! 
 
 The plants move without any effort or purpose of their own. The 
 changes and activities in the substances of the material world have 
 no knowledge, and no purpose, and no consciousness. They are the 
 effects of a purpose and consciousness in an intelligent Being, and the 
 instruments by which He effects His purposes. It is beautiful to see 
 how plants grow and bear fruit as of themselves without any knowl- 
 edge or purpose in themselves. They show the love and wisdom of the 
 Lord more clearly than men. They do not resist the Divine power of 
 the Lord. If we did not, how happy we should be! We should have no 
 fears or cares. 
 
 It is evident tliat we ilo not move forward in a straight line. We 
 
 -*^ 441 }■♦-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 move in circles and spirals. We often seem to come back to the same 
 point, but we do not. We are below it or above it. If we are ad- 
 vancing in spiritual life we have risen above it; if we are degener- 
 ating we have fallen below it. The spiral is turning down and out- 
 ward to the world and to the lowest conditions of life. There are 
 many examples of this law of spiral movement in the material world. 
 There is constantly accumulating evidence that it is a universal law of 
 the Divine Order. 
 
 October 19, 1891. I must improve my time more fully and I must 
 be about my Father's business. Though I tire so easily, I suppose I 
 might do much more work if when I was weary I rested, and when 
 I was rested went quietly to work. I must do that. I might write short 
 articles for the press. Come, let us see what an old man can do when 
 he earnestly desires to promote the interests of his Heavenly Father. 
 
 Holmes says a line may cost hours of labor. He says also that he 
 cannot think out a poem and then write it. He must have pen in hand, 
 and the pen, ink, and paper must suit him. I find this is so with myself. 
 I cannot make a sermon in my mind and then write it. 
 
 December 19, 1891. It seems to us as though our work was of great 
 importance. But we are only mere germ cells in humanity. Our in- 
 fluence is almost nothing. Man's prudence compared with the Divine 
 prudence is only as a mote to the whole atmosphere. But if we are 
 only a cell or the least part of one we must do our work as well as we 
 can. We must be a healdiy, orderly, active cell, giving help to others 
 and making our influence good, as far as it extends. We must be open 
 to receive and free to pass on what we receive. So shall we gain a bless- 
 ing and be a blessing. 
 
 As Christmas time approached my father's thoughts turned to the 
 children of the church. He decided to make them a present of a story, 
 '"The Pocket Compass." This was published in the Helper. 
 
 I like to write for children but I am quite dissatisfied with what I 
 have done. I suppose I should be if I had written much more and 
 better. Well, such as it is it must remain. Perhaps I ought to be 
 thankful that the Lord has enabled me to do so much. 
 
 -^{ 442 )ie—
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1890-1891 
 
 While on the way to the printer with the manuscript of this ston,'. 
 Father was taken with the gripjje, and was quite ill for several weeks. 
 
 The Philadelphia friends, who were very kind, sent many Christmas 
 presents of fruit and flowers. Mr. Giles always saw a deeper beauty 
 in the gifts Uian appeared on the surface and his letters of appreciation 
 usually embodied some of the thoughts suggested thereby. Such is the 
 following: 
 
 I thank you for the beautiful roses. They have fdled my room with 
 their fragrance and my heart with their pure and tender beauty. What 
 lovely things the Lord can make out of coarse matter. He puts some 
 hint of His own beauty and glory into everything He creates. If our 
 eyes were opened we should see more and more of it in everything 
 around us. I often think if the Lord can make such delicate and beauti- 
 ful things as lilies and roses out of gross matter, what surpassing ex- 
 cellence and perfection tliere must be in all spiritual objects. But we 
 must have eyes to see them, and these we are forming now by the truths 
 we receive and embody in a life of love. 
 
 ►4 \.U ^-
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Philadelphia Pastorate, 1892-1893 
 
 J anuary 1, 1892. The New Year! May it be a new year to me and 
 to all of us in a good sense. The body is wearing out; it is going to 
 leave me. 
 
 On January 25, 1892, after a day of fatigue, he writes: 
 
 I went to bed in despair of doing any more work. But why should 
 I feel so about it? My work is not necessary to the success of the New 
 Church. I must not count it as of too much importance; but I see so 
 many tilings to know and to say. No one can exhaust them. No one 
 can say the last word. 
 
 Then on February 9, 1892, in speaking of the Tract Society, he says: 
 
 A large amount of business has been done during the year and the 
 Society is in a flourishing condition. It is really performing a most 
 important use. The Helper is received with much favor everywhere. 
 It was a most happy hit in name and use. It is so small that it is not 
 a formidable task to read it. It is unobtrusive and does not excite fear 
 or awaken hostility. We were gradually led into it by doing the work 
 which we found at our hand. One thing led to another until the way 
 opened for our little periodical, which is welcomed by thousands of 
 people. I am very thankful that we have been led to the performance 
 of this use. 
 
 The diary continues: 
 
 March 12, 1892. One of the greatest difficulties the minister of the 
 New Church meets in writing sermons is finding so much to say. AU 
 we can express is as a drop to the ocean compared with what there is to 
 
 -4 444 ^=-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 say. But no one can drink the ocean at a draught. Perhaps we give 
 more than the people can receive. "Enough is as good as a feast." 
 We must be content to give what we can, be it ever so little; but who is 
 content with what he has or does? 
 
 March 16, 1892. I found my day's work yesterday was a little too 
 much for me. Either the snowstorm or overwork played the mischief 
 with my brain and I have not been able to do mucli to-day. I wrote a 
 few pages on my sermon but there was no spirit in it. My old servant, 
 the brain, declares it can't work. So I tried my hands and my feet. 
 The door of my wardrobe stuck so hard that it was quite a pull to open 
 it. I went to borrow a plane to shave it off. My feet trembled and 
 grumbled at the errand, but I found the tool. When I applied it to 
 the door my hands trembled and my heart thumped and my lungs 
 wheezed, but I did the work nicely. Relieved tiic door and returned 
 the plane. Came home and rested and my head felt better for llie exer- 
 cise of my hands and my feet. 
 
 On April 2 he preached in Baltimore. The occasion was the cele- 
 bration of the centennial of the first New Church sermon delivered in 
 that city. 
 
 Work tliat followed was the preparation of an address for the 
 annual meeting of the Pennsylvania Association, plans for Easter, and 
 die writing of his address for Convention. 
 
 In April the Pennsylvania Association met, and Mr. Giles attended 
 both the Ministers' Meeting and that of the Association. He writes: 
 
 April 25. At a meeting of the General Council it was voted to re- 
 munerate more liberally the ministers who do missionary work. Also 
 to establish small libraries in towns wbere any one can be found to 
 take charge. This subj«"ct came up afterwards in the ciuirch com- 
 mittee. It commended itself to every member of the committee. Tliey 
 resolved In put the plan in execution as soon as possible. This is one 
 of those begiiHiings which may result in great good. Nearly all the 
 important movements in the church have commenced in that way. I 
 will do all I can to make it a success, to have a centre of New Church 
 life in every town. 
 
 April 28, 1892. I made arrangements to semi ten thousand tracts 
 
 -^445)31-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 to Australia, and some books. I am glad to be able to do it. Our 
 friends there have had a hard time. They have lost their money, and 
 many of their friends have been compelled to move away to find busi- 
 ness. It seems as if the New Church were having a hard time of it 
 everywhere. But it will come out all right. The Lord is on its side 
 and it is His bride and wife and He will support it. There is hope and 
 comfort in that. But we must do all we can. 
 
 On May 5 he writes: 
 
 Now I am very well prepared for Convention. 
 
 I attended a meeting of the trustees of the Chillicothe Fund and we 
 resolved to give the Ohio Board of Missions one hundred and fifty dol- 
 lars a year for two years. The fund has nearly doubled since it came 
 into our hands and we have contributed nine hundred and fifty dollars 
 to missionary uses. This is much better than to have spent it in pub- 
 lishing a liturgy or building a church in a small town. 
 
 An accoimt of the origin of the Chillicothe Fund was furnished me 
 by Rev. Wm. L. Worcester, and is given herewith : 
 
 On April 15, 1838, the Chillicothe Society was formed of a few be- 
 lievers. Meetings for worship were held at the homes of Dr. Sproat 
 and Mr. John S. Williams, a United States civil engineer engaged in 
 laying out the national road from the East to the West through Ohio. 
 
 Money was soon raised to build a small church, holding perhaps 
 two hundred persons. In the absence of any visiting minister Mr. 
 Joseph Jones, a bookseller in Chillicothe, conducted the worship imder 
 the forms of the Boston Society's first book of worship, published in 
 1836. 
 
 The General Convention received the money for the sale of the 
 Chillicothe church after that society's membership had become scat- 
 tered and the church sold. This money, as I imderstand it, became the 
 "Chillicothe Fund," independent of the Convention, but held by four 
 trustees for the benefit of general New Church uses. The Fund now 
 (1919) amounts to about ten thousand dollars and makes contributions 
 yearly to general uses, such as the Board of Home and Foreign Mis- 
 
 -'^i 446 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 sions, the Augmentation Fund, etc. Contributions have several times 
 been made to general uses of the New Church in Ohio, in recognition 
 of the fact that the Fund came from that state. 
 
 Of the journey to Convention Mr. Giles writes: 
 
 The day was cool and bright. The car ran so smoothly that it seemed 
 to be at rest. The country is looking very beautiful. Tlie apple trees 
 are in their glory. As we rushed past tliem they seemed to spring out 
 of the earth in the beauty and glory of their wedding robes. The 
 leaves of the trees in tlieir pale and tender green were rejoicing in the 
 light. The earth and the sky were glorious in the smile of the Lord. 
 How beautiful the earth is! What variety of color and form! Surely 
 we ought to see the Lord's wisdom in everything. How much it would 
 add to the interest of ever)thing around us if we regarded it as the 
 Lord's work to-day, as His gift to us, as a token of His love for us! 
 
 As we passed Xenia and Morrow and other places, many old associa- 
 tions, some bitter, some sweet, were revived. How wonderfully the 
 Lord has led me! How little I dreamed what He had in store for me 
 when I was working my way along by teaching school. Truly He leads 
 by a way we know not. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Giles had looked forward with especial pleasure to the 
 Convention in Cincinnati; to the renewing of old friendships and the 
 revival of old memories. The hajipy anticipations were not realized, 
 for Mr. Giles took cold, the weather was unpropitious, and he was 
 housed the greater part of the time during this his last visit to his first 
 field of labor in the ministry. 
 
 He managed, although verj' hoarse, to deliver his annual address; 
 he also went to church on Sunday and the next day opened Convention. 
 But the church was cold and damj) and he did not dare to remain in it. 
 He speaks with approval of the action ot the Board ol Missions in vot- 
 ing to employ Mr. Smith for one year as missionary. He was also 
 much pleased with their vote to contribute towards the salan,' of Dr. 
 Lewis of Washington (he was a colored man) and Mr. Giles was very 
 desirous of having a trial made with the colored people, for, he re- 
 marks, '"We ought to be able to do somelliing for llirin if wli.it Swi-dcn- 
 borg says about them is true." 
 
 Of his illness in Cincinnati li<- writes: 
 
 -^ 447 jr»-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Philadelphia, June 1, 1892. 
 The Convention was in some respects a great disappointment to me. 
 I was not able to do anything or to see what others were doing. I did 
 not meet with the Convention from Tuesday afternoon until Satur- 
 day evening. In the meantime, Wednesday evening the New Church 
 friends in Cincinnati gave the ministers a reception, and as a special 
 feature of it they had purchased a beautiful picture to present to me. 
 I was not there to receive it, but it was presented by Mr. Hobart, who 
 made, it is said, a very pleasant speech about me. I was at Mrs. 
 M 's, coughing at a furious rate. 
 
 Upon their return home the church committee voted that Mr. Giles's 
 vacation should begin at once. As soon, therefore, as he was able 
 Mrs. Giles and he went to Lake George. While making preparations 
 he writes: 
 
 I am going to take a box of books with me. That will look like work 
 and tend to mollify conscience. I may read some; but I forget as 
 fast as I read. It is like pouring water into a sieve. The only differ- 
 ence being that the sieve takes no pleasure in having the water run 
 through it, while I do, in the flow of ideas from the book through my 
 mind. 
 
 The summer was his time of rest, but notwithstanding, my father 
 improved every opportunity to aid those in need of help. This was 
 written to a friend who had met with business trials: 
 
 The Sagamore, August 1, 1892. 
 
 We have thought much and sympathized deeply with you in your 
 financial difficulties, and wished we could assist you in overcoming 
 them. But the most we can do is to try to help you to bear them and 
 to see or believe that a much greater good will come to you and to 
 your family by these trials than could have come by the greatest finan- 
 cial success. 
 
 We know that the Lord looks to our eternal good in all He provides 
 and permits; that our wisdom in comparison with His wisdom is only 
 as a mote to the whole atmosphere. If we could acknowledge this we
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 should submit and trust that whatever might be the external outcome of 
 our diiriculties, the spiritual and permanent good must be much greater 
 than any natural success. If we could see them in all their bearings 
 upon our eternal good as the Lord sees them, we should thank Him 
 for them as we would thank a friend who had saved us from dro\vn- 
 ing, though with much violence and natural loss to us. 
 
 The Lord does not help us suddenly out of our difficulties. He helps 
 us in them and to bear them, and to see the evils which led us into them, 
 which perhaps we could not then have overcome; and if He does not 
 lead us into the same or greater success, He gives us a spiritual and 
 more precious good in the place of the natural one. 
 
 The motives you mention which led you to desire a larger income are 
 worthy ones in some respects, but they are more natural than spiritual. 
 
 The whole course of the Divine Providence in relation to men is 
 directed to helping them to act in freedom from themselves. It may 
 be far better for every one of your children to gain a position by labor 
 and privation, even, than to be lifted into it, if that were possible, witli- 
 out any exertion of his or her own. But you know these things as well 
 as I do. 
 
 It seems to me that your true wisdom consists in accepting the con- 
 sequences of your action by trying to see what greater evils may be 
 prevented and what larger gains obtained by them. It is proper and 
 wise, and is your duty to use all due efforts to extricate yourself from 
 them, while at the same time you submit to the condition and try to find 
 the blessing in it. Trust in the Lord and ininish the evil spirits lliat are 
 tormenting you. Lie down in peace and sleep, knowing that the Lord 
 alone can make you dwell in safety. Do the best you can to-day in a 
 calm and resolute spirit, and then cast the whole burden upon the Lord 
 and sleep all night. The way will open as you go along, day l)y day, 
 to extricate you from your difficulties, and strength will be given you 
 to bear them. 
 
 I am afraid my letter may sound hard am! imfceling, but I assure 
 
 you it is not. 
 
 We think of you and Mrs. M. often and with deep affection and wish 
 we could help you. But in many things " Vain is tlie help of man." 
 
 -4 449 )9—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 The following extracts from his letters and the diary show that when 
 misfortune came to him Mr. Giles practised what he preached: 
 
 A week ago yesterday I sprained the large muscles in the calf of 
 my leg in going up one of the terraces here. The sprain was very 
 severe and has been very painful. My leg swelled and was so painful 
 that I could not walk for some days and my meals were brought to my 
 room. Day before yesterday I was attacked with inflammation in the 
 joint of my great toe. Some people say it was or is gout. It is painful 
 enough to deserve the hardest names that can be given to it. I could 
 not bear the weight of even the sheet upon it. It is better to-day or I 
 should not be sitting up and writing to you. 
 
 In the diary we find the following: 
 
 September 3, 1892. It seems strange that I should have met with 
 this accident (?) we call it. What greater evil did it prevent? To what 
 good can it lead? These are questions which no one can answer. It is 
 a comfort to know that the Lord provides only good. He foresees the 
 evil and uses it to prevent a greater evil, and if possible to lead to some 
 good. But how or what who can tell? I can see in one way how it may 
 be of service to me. If it leads me to trust more firmly in the Lord, if 
 it opens a little wider and fuller any fibril of spiritual affection, or 
 leads me to gain and apply to life any spiritual truth, it will be of im- 
 measurable importance to me. 
 
 For that truth will be as a seed sown in good ground, which will bring 
 forth abundantly and continue to increase to eternity. Who can meas- 
 ure its value! May I have wisdom to profit by ray natural loss! 
 
 September 23, 1892. We spent the morning in packing our trunks. 
 Wliat a job it is! We bring so many little things with us that it is much 
 work to put them into the small space of a trunk. We need many 
 things, but we bring many raore than we need. 
 
 I was thinking this morning how different it will be in the spiritual 
 world. There we shall carry everything witliin us, and what we need 
 will be created without us, as we need it. The Lord will give us all 
 our special needs as we can use tliem. How wonderful it will be. Then 
 we are to live forever. The thought is overwhelming. 
 
 -^ 450 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 There is growth and change everywhere and decay in this worhl, hut 
 none in the spiritual worhl. Spirit cannot decay. Ideas, thoughts, 
 affections, are imniorlal. Thouglit becomes quiescent and unconscious 
 for a time, but it can be revived. What a grand prospect there is before 
 the regenerate man! 
 
 The autumn montlis did not bring with them the usual vigor which 
 Mr. Giles felt after the summer's rest. In November he suffered at 
 times from palpitation of tlie heart, and in the latter part of the month 
 those peculiar chills which were a prominent symptom of the early part 
 of his last illness began. 
 
 True to his habits of industry Mr. Giles, as health and occasion per- 
 mitted, tried to do his work. 
 
 On November 20Ui he lectured on the " World of Spirits." It was 
 the first of a series planned for the season. He spoke extempore, and 
 as he frequently remarks of other times, " got through better than he 
 expected." Although there were other official acts this was the last 
 time that he spoke in public, either to lecture or preach. Tlie first men- 
 tion which he makes of his illness is in one of the family letters, dated 
 December 8, 1892. 
 
 I am still able to write "excelsior"; I am up on my feet and have 
 been nearly all day. The doctor says I look better tlian he has seen 
 me this winter. He is a great flatterer. I have been sitting up in 
 "Sleepy Hollow" nearly all day. Perhaps it should be called ■"in- 
 clining" up. I have had my clothes on and feel more like a man, and 
 a well one at that. The doctor says he has never seen a case like mine. 
 I had no chill, it was a shake. I shook for an hour and a half as though 
 I should go to pieces. No fever of consequence followed, ami no pro- 
 fuse perspiration. I think we must call it the " Giles shake " and claim 
 a special right to it. I am sure no one would want it but me. All 
 fairly well as usual. 
 
 When I was visiting at home we went one day lor a drive. lather, 
 always susceptible to the beauties of nature, enjoyed it much. Just as 
 we neared home he asked the coachman to drive fa-h-r. No sooner were 
 we in the house than be was taken with one ol those lerrililc chills. 
 In a few moments he seemed to shrivel ; he grew yellow and looked many 
 years older. His whole bndv shook and his |)()or teelli eliallered. Even 
 in the midst of it with the humorous instinct so strong in him he man- 
 
 -4 451 }•--
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 aged to gasp out, " F-f-f oiks c-c-an't s-say I 'm n-n-no g-g-great shakes 
 now.' 
 
 He wrote some letters in the autumn and a brief introduction to a 
 pocket edition of one of the chapters in the " True Christian Religion." 
 He consecrated a marriage service, but remarks in his diary, " I was 
 not feeling well, and it was more than a usual task for me." Once or 
 twice he went down town of an errand, but such exertion was always 
 followed by great fatigue. I accompanied him the very last time he 
 went. I think it was in the spring of 1893. As the car passed the 
 church he loved so well he turned and looked at it as long as it could be 
 seen. He was bidding it a silent farewell. Neither of us spoke. 
 
 On December 31st he writes: 
 
 I commenced a course of " Swedish Movement Cure " this evening. 
 The doctor thinks it will be of great service to me; I am sure I hope it 
 may. I would be glad if I could get well enough to put some of my 
 lectures and discourses into shape, and prepare them for publication, 
 if it should be thought useful to print them. I intend to publish one 
 or two volumes at my own expense, as a kind of legacy to the church. 
 They might perform some use when I am gone. 
 
 This is the last day of the year. I have done less work than in any 
 year for a long time. The severe cold I caught at the Convention, which 
 was continued and increased by additions, prevented me from doing 
 much before my vacation. Since I came home I have been ill nearly 
 two months; I have not worked more than half the time. 
 
 January 1, 1893. The new year has been a quiet and pleasant one 
 witliin doors but a very gloomy and stormy one without. 
 
 Jan. 2. This day has passed as have most of my days for the last 
 two months. I have read some, vyrritten some, and lounged about my 
 room. I have made a slight advance; I went down to dinner. It was 
 very pleasant to eat with the family again. It seems more like living. 
 I hope I shall not be compelled to take any more solitary meals. 
 
 Jan. 22. Ordained Peter C. Lewis pastor of the church for colored 
 people in Washington. 
 
 Feb. 19. I went to the church for the first time for three months, and 
 administered the Holy Supper. I was very feeble and somewhat ex- 
 hausted, but I suffered no harm from it. 
 
 -^ 452 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 After the sacrament Mr. Worcester stood guard at the door of the 
 vestry and protected Mr. Giles from the many friends who wished to 
 have a word with their pastor, absent from their midst for so long. 
 
 Last Sunday, the 26th of February, I ordained Adam B. Dolly at the 
 church in the presence of the congregation. So I am beginning to per- 
 form some of the duties of my office once more. 
 
 March 1. My hopes of getting well have been sorely blasted. Since 
 writing the last page I have been much worse. Relapse after relapse 
 has kept me down. At one time I was able to ride out, but tlie second 
 time I was seized with a chill, and that put an end to my riding. 
 
 I am now a little better and hope soon to be able to do some work. 
 
 The diary records the following official acts, which, with one addi- 
 tional, were the last he performed. 
 
 April 2, Easter Sunday. I confirmed eleven young ladies this morn- 
 ing. It was an interesting sight. Some of those who were confirmed 
 came forward quite unexpectedly. I hope they may become useful 
 members of the church. The Holy Supper was administered to over 
 two hundred communicants, the largest number who ever partook at 
 one time in my church, except at Convention. I am ver>' thankful that 
 I was able to administer it. 
 
 May 12, 1893. I have been too ill to write much, and I have nothing 
 to record but a series of disappointments with regard to my health. I 
 have not preached once. I have been able to perform some occasional 
 services, but I am not as well and strong as I was three montlis ago, and 
 there seems to be very little prospect of my ever being better. 
 
 When I have had any strength I have worked on a little book which 
 I hope will give comfort and consolation to some bereaved soul. 
 
 The above is the last entry in the diary. 
 
 During my father's long illness the children, as tliey had opportunity, 
 spent the lime in the Philadel|)hia home and assisted in the nursing. 
 My sister was with him several montlis in the early part of his illness, 
 and again at various times during the year. The relation between her 
 and my father was very close. Again and again he speaks of her 
 "lovely presence," and both Mother and Father were greatly cheered 
 by her visits. My brothers were engaged in their business or jirofes- 
 
 -*•{ 453 )S^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 sional duties, but their vacation time was spent in ministering to the 
 needs of" their dear father. It was no sacrifice. They simply could 
 not have done otherwise. In these last offices Mr. Worcester, who was 
 like a son to my father, shared the family labor of love. He too gave 
 up his vacation in order to help. 
 
 The eleventh of May was Mr. Giles's eightietli birthday. Early in 
 the morning Mr. Worcester went far afield and returned with beautiful 
 branches of dogwood. These with many other flowers sent by kind 
 friends decorated the study, making that centre of our home life a 
 bower of beauty. 
 
 The next morning my father performed his last official act, the 
 baptism of a little child, amongst his birthday flowers. It was a touch- 
 ing scene. 
 
 When summer came he was unable to go to Lake George, or to accept 
 the offer which came for the last time from the unknown friend who 
 had so often engaged staterooms for his visits to Europe. 
 
 The summer was passed quietly in his home in 35th Street witli the 
 family in attendance. It was not until the autumn that he needed pro- 
 fessional nursing. A bed was placed in his bright sunny study, and 
 there he lay, surrounded by his books to the last. 
 
 His thoughts dwelt but little on himself, although he knew clearly 
 that it was his last illness; but, as he said, " It is only like going to the 
 next room." 
 
 His diary mentions the work on " Consolation," and I will speak of 
 it more in detail later on. 
 
 There are some letters which the recipients prize very highly tliat 
 he wrote in this last year of his life. One such is the following to Rev. 
 Wm. L. Worcester, dated 1893: 
 
 Please accept this Pocket Communion Service as a token of my great 
 regard and sincere affection. I present it to you now, that there may 
 be no mistake about its becoming yours. 
 
 It is a pleasant thought to me that you will have it and use it when I 
 am no more with you in this world. 
 
 Hoping you may live long to use it for the comfort of the feeble, in 
 
 the holiest act of worship, I remain with increased respect and deep 
 
 affection ,r r • i i i i 
 
 Your triend and brother, 
 
 Chauncey Giles. 
 
 -'•^ 454 ^f"~
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 The friend who received the following letter of July 4th has often 
 mentioned with pleasure the fact that he was considered to be, as men- 
 tioned here, my father's right-hand man. 
 
 Yours of yesterday has just come to hand. It gives me much pleasure 
 to know that you and Mrs. M. like my little book ["Consolation"] and 
 think it will be useful. It was written by bits, and some of them very 
 small ones, and it seemed to me that it might appear to others to have 
 come from the scrap bag rather than fresh-coined from a living mind; 
 but if it comforts and consoles any bereaved ones, it will perform tlie 
 use for which it was written, and that is all I can ask. 
 
 It was a great shock to us to learn of the burning of the Sagamore, 
 We have spent so many restful, happy days there that it seemed like a 
 personal loss. Though I did not expect to see it again I could think of 
 it and localize many enjoyments. We think of it and speak of it as 
 being some day rebuilt, but not on the exact spot or with construction 
 like the old one. 
 
 There is nothing new to say about myself. I do not see that I am 
 improving any in health, but am rather growing weaker. Dr. Mac has 
 tapped me twice for dropsy, which has given me only temporary relief, 
 and I suppose that is all that can be done for me. Dr. Mac told my 
 son Chauncey that science could do a great deal for me, but it would 
 not make a new heart. I hope there is one making for me, but it will 
 not come into consciousness until tlie old one is discarded. The old 
 machinery is nearly worn out and must soon go to pieces. 
 
 You have indeed rendered me very important services, and been my 
 right-hand man, for which I feel sincerely grateful. Perhaps you can 
 assist me in selecting a lot where tlie old garments can be decently 
 deposited. 
 
 I have not written a letter before for some days, but I took the 
 strength of the morning and have been abli- to fini-li this. 
 
 The last mouths of my father's life it was my precious privilege, for 
 which I shall ever be grateful, to be with him until a week ix-fore his 
 death. The lessons learned from such an example were so helpful and 
 comforting that I wrote a short acconiit for my children, from which 
 I have taken the following extracts: 
 
 -4 455 jai-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 As you know, your dear grandfather has been during the greater 
 part of his long life very strong and a very hard worker, it being always 
 his greatest pleasure to be useful to others. 
 
 During this last year tliat active body has been growing weaker and 
 weaker, and during die month I was with him he grew daily more help- 
 less, and at the last he could not turn himself over in bed; he could not 
 lift his head; he could not even be fed wiUi a spoon, but had to take his 
 only nourishment through a tube. He was so thin that his face was 
 very much changed and you would hardly have known him if you had 
 seen him. 
 
 Now tliis dear Grandpa who loved so to work for others, naturally 
 disliked to make otlier people trouble by having them wait on him, so 
 it was very hard for him to be so weak and dependent. But he learned 
 to be very grateful for anything that was done for him; and so sweetly 
 patient was he that we felt as if he had done us a favor when he let us 
 do the least thing for him. 
 
 Although his body was so weak, his mind was as strong as ever. He 
 was being daily prepared by the Lord for his birth into the spiritual 
 world, and becoming more and more like the little child that we must 
 all be like if we would enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. 
 
 I wish I could make you feel and see this strong contrast between his 
 weak body and his clear, wise mind as we who were with him saw it. 
 It was like caring for a very wise baby. You know his heart was dis- 
 eased, and at times this poor weak heart would flutter and beat irregu- 
 larly and dear Grandpa would be nearly strangled, gasping for breath. 
 It was always a surprise to find when he began to be better from these 
 attacks that instead of saying, "Oh, how I have suffered! What a 
 dreadful time I have had!" as one might expect, he would begin to 
 speak in the earlier part of his illness of something he would like done 
 for the comfort of others, as once when he wanted some awnings made 
 for the windows. Later on, more spiritual things occupied his mind, 
 but it was never of himself he talked. 
 
 Once when he had been propped up in bed against me and gasp- 
 ing for a long time, as soon as he could get breath to speak he said, 
 "What are those words — 'Bless the Lord' — 'Bless the Lord'?" 
 I said, "Do you mean, 'Bless the Lord, my soul'?" and as he 
 said " Yes," I repeated for him as much of the 10.3d Psalm as I could 
 remember. 
 
 Although the words of the Lord were much in his thoughts, he had 
 some difficulty in keeping them in his mind connectedly. As he said, 
 
 —^ 456 }§^-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 " I can only remember tlireads and fragments, but they are golden 
 threads." Tlien he told me of his trying to say the Lord's Prayer. Two 
 or three times he tried but could not remember it all. '" Finally," said 
 he, " with the Lord's help I tried again and this time I said it through." 
 
 Knowing that he could not get well and that his active work in this 
 world was done, he was very eager to leave it, and for a time was un- 
 willing to do anything to prolong his stay here. 
 
 When the nurse brought him his beef tea he would say, "Why do 
 you bring me this? The Lord wants me to go and you are trying to 
 keep me here." He afterwards made no objections to food or remedies, 
 but took all with a sweet submissiveness that was very touching. One 
 day die doctor wished to tap him in order to remove the water that 
 was swelling the abdomen. '"No, Doctor," he said, "let it be; it is of 
 no use. It will only prolong my suffering and die end must come." He 
 was afterwards somewhat disturbetl, fearing he had not done exactly 
 right. " I do not wish to prolong my life," he said, " neither do I wish 
 to shorten it more than the Lord intends." He was assured that it could 
 make no real difference, and he was quite right in refusing to be lanced 
 if he did not wish it. 
 
 He was not only patient and cheerful, but he was at times full of fun 
 and would make little jokes. One morning when the nurse was going 
 
 out for her daily walk he said, "Why, Miss , you never ask me 
 
 to go with you." 
 
 Another time, earlier in his illness, the one who was nursing him at 
 night had fallen asleep quite heavily; Grandpa wanted someUiing, and 
 as he could not make himself heard, he got up and helped himself. 
 Then he stood for a moment by the sofa on which the sleeper lay. and 
 as he awoke said to him with a roguish twinkle of the eyes, and that 
 wrinkle of the nose you all know so well, " Is there anything I can do 
 for you? " 
 
 Friends were very kind in sending flowers and he enjoyed them very 
 much, saying always, " How kind of them to think of me. Be sure 
 to thank Uieni for me." And then he thought of these flowers not only 
 as from his friends but as a beautiful gift from the Lord. He would 
 say, " I love to think of these things as sent directly to me from the 
 Lord, not of course to me exclusively, but they are just as much espe- 
 cially for me as if sent to me alone." 
 
 There was anoUier thought that gave him much comfort. You all 
 know the verse: "He shall give His angels charge over the.-, to keep 
 thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest 
 
 -<i 457 \^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 thou dash thy foot against a stone." Well, he thought of that in 
 this way: " It has come to me since I lie here that when I try to bear and 
 find it hard, the Lord sustains me through those who are nursing and 
 caring for me. The Lord cannot come directly; He is Divine and In- 
 finite; we are only finite. Angels cannot come to us consciously; they 
 are spiritual; neither can good spirits, for we are natural; but He sends 
 His loving thoughts through the angels and good spirits, each bearing 
 the message in turn till it comes to the minds of the loving friends that 
 are near. They having natural bodies can bring it out into the minis- 
 tering acts which sustain and lighten our burdens." 
 
 He said, " If I were well I would write a sermon on this subject." 
 It was suggested that perhaps Mr. Worcester would do it some time. 
 And sure enough, the very first sermon he wrote after your grand- 
 father's death was on this subject, and in it, when bringing out this 
 idea, he referred to it as one which had much occupied dear Father's 
 mind. 
 
 He had always hoped, and had some reason to think (as he had 
 heart disease) that he might suddenly drop down in the midst of his 
 active work. But this was not to be, and instead he bad a long, linger- 
 ing illness witli, as he said, " everything, the utter helplessness, tlie hav- 
 ing to be fed and cared for in other ways — everything that I have most 
 dreaded when thinking of such things. But I suppose I did not know 
 what was best for me." 
 
 Wlien he was suffering so from the tingling and burning caused by 
 the dropsy in his limbs, some one said, " I don't see how you can bear 
 it so patiently." " Why," he replied, " it is much easier to bear it 
 patiently than it would be to bear it impatiently." 
 
 A good life in this world is the best preparation for the other, but 
 even with those who have tlius lived, there is some last work to be 
 done before the spirit is fully prepared to leave the body. 
 
 It is necessary for us to acknowledge fully that we have no life in 
 ourselves, that we have none except from the Lord. This, dear Father 
 came to very completely. He had some sharp spiritual struggles when 
 he would say, " Lord, pity me! Lord, have mercy upon me! " and 
 again, "I am nothing, nothing, — a mere speck in the universe." We 
 used to read from the Word to him at such times, or pray silently, or 
 sing hymns to him: " Nearer, my God, to Thee," " Whoso in God alone 
 confideth," " Jerusalem the Golden," " Jesus, lover of my soul," to the 
 time of Martyn; " Father, whate'er of earthly bliss," were some of his 
 favorites. He also liked greatly to hear, " Oh, rest in the Lord," and 
 
 -^ 4.58 f>-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 after it was sung would repeat " Rest in the Lord " with so much feeling 
 and expression. The times of struggle and contest grew less frequent 
 and were of shorter duration as the days went by. 
 
 One day a letter came from Sweden accompanying a new translation 
 of "Man as a Spiritual Being," which was sent to Father. The letter 
 contained much praise of the good work he had done in the world, and 
 said that it would doubtless go on even after he was gone. " Yes," he 
 said when this was read to him, "but I am nothing, nothing. It is all 
 the Lord's." "But surely," said Mother, "you can be glad the Lord 
 has made you his instrument for so much good." "Yes," he replied, 
 "but the ugly old self keeps sticking up its head all the time." 
 
 One morning he said, " I have been thinking how selfish and ungrate- 
 ful I am for all my blessings. Here the Lord permits me to have my 
 dear children about me: everything is done for my comfort: if I were 
 a millionaire I could not be better cared for. Even this beautiful sun- 
 shine and those lovely flowers" — looking towards a sunbeam that 
 glorified a yellow chrysanthemum in the window — "are the Lord's 
 gift to me; and what am 1 that I should long for something better, that 
 I should feel that this world is not good enough for me? This thought 
 has comforted and sustained me, and I am rea<ly now to go or slay in 
 the Lord's own time, as He wills." 
 
 The fourteenth chapter of John was one of his favorite chapters. 
 One day after reading, " If ye love me keep my commandments," he 
 said, "That is what it all resolves itself into, keeping the command- 
 ments." 
 
 He liked the shades up very high so that he could get all the light 
 and sunshine there was. One evening a beautiful star shone brightly 
 in tlie sky just where he could see it as be lay in bed. He said to Mr. 
 Worcester, who was in the room, " Does n't Swedenborg say somewhere 
 thai the societies of the higher angels appear like stars to those in the 
 lower heavens?" Mr. Worcester replied in the allirmative. and taking 
 down tl e book which contained the passage wanted, read it aloud. 
 Father then spoke of the myriads and myriads of stars and planets in 
 tliis uiiivcr.-e and bow the latter were no doubt inhabited, though with 
 men of a different genius from tliose of our earth; so diflerent that 
 no don'il we slionld not be congenial. "Still," he said, "I supjiose 
 that all tliose wlio are nearest the Lord are also nearest each other, ami 
 no doubt Uie highest angels are made up of human beings from every 
 
 world." 
 
 A very precious experience was the sacrament of the Holy Supper, of 
 
 -<■{ 459 ^~
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 which it was your fatlier's and my privilege lo partake with dear 
 Grandpa and Grandma in his sick chamber. 
 
 Grandma sat beside his bed, holding his hand. We sat on the sofa. 
 There was a beautiful vase of white cosmos on the desk. Mr. Worcester 
 administered the sacrament. Dear Father was too feeble to drink the 
 wine. Mr. Worcester gave it to him with a spoon. I wish you could 
 have seen his radiant expression afterwards and heard him say, " I am 
 very glad to have partaken with you once more. It is probably for tlie 
 last time in this world. Swedenborg says that when man partakes 
 wortliily and reverently here, there is stored up within him states of 
 sanctity which are beyond his consciousness and may never be opened 
 in this world, but will be hereafter." 
 
 Dear children, when you are tempted to think and do wrong, I hope 
 you will think of your grandfather's wish to be a messenger to you. 
 
 The day before Grandpa died, useful and interested in church work 
 to the last, he talked with Dr. J. C. Guernsey about the " Magnificat " 
 and advised its use for the church in Philadelphia. He also talked 
 about other church matters, and in the evening enjoyed very much hav- 
 ing Miss P sing some of the hymns I have mentioned to you. A 
 
 telegram of greeting came from the Boston Society, which was cele- 
 brating its seventy-fifth anniversary. He was interested and asked to 
 have a reply sent. 
 
 About midnight the change came, and for hours his poor weak body 
 suffered die last agonies that could come to it. A short time before his 
 death, Mr. Worcester, for whom he had sent, read to him the chapter in 
 the Revelation which describes the Holy City. He was very quiet after 
 that and his mind seemed wandering. Once he asked Grandma if she 
 thought he could sit up in the boat. She said, "Yes, I think you can." 
 
 When he was suffering he would put out his arms and say, " Lord, 
 come! dear Lord, come! " 
 
 At the last he went so quietly that they were not at first sure he had 
 gone. 
 
 You have all eitlier read or had read to you the account of the 
 funeral, but you can have but little idea of the solemn beauty of the 
 occasion. 
 
 I wish you could see dear lonely Grandma — - her calm way of going 
 about her duties, and the sweet patience with which she tries to meet 
 all demands upon her. 
 
 Once when some one said to her how glad we felt that we still had 
 her, she broke down a little and said, " When the cipher has the figure 
 
 -4. 460 ^'-
 
 PHILADELPHIA PASTORATE, 1892-1893 
 
 before it, it is of some value, but all alone it is not good for much." 
 Another time she said, "So far I have been wonderfully sustained; it 
 seems as if your dear father were just beside me all the lime." 
 
 The morning after, as the family were gatliered together in the study, 
 some one look from a shelf a small volume of Giles's sermons. Upon 
 opening it this passage which was read aloud from " Old Age in This 
 Life and in the Life to Come," came with the force of a personal mes- 
 sage from dear Father himself. 
 
 "Yesterday they were here, silting by our side, struggling with the 
 growing infirmities of age. To-day they are in the spiritual world. 
 Feebleness has given place to strength; they feel their freedom; they 
 rejoice in it; life is opening before them with a fullness and glory sur- 
 passing their brightest dreams while in this world, and they are enter- 
 ing upon it with faculties newly awakend as if from sleep. 
 
 "It is pleasant to think that tliey were once with us here, and that 
 now they are there and here too; that they have attained their deliver- 
 ance. They are entering consciously into all the states of love and wis- 
 dom which they made their own while in lliis world, and which lay 
 witliin them like the germ in the seed. ' Blessed are the dead which 
 die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may 
 rest from their labors; and their works do follow them.' " 
 
 -^ 461)8—
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Comments of Contemporaries 
 
 \. o depict a character truly, one must use not only the written and 
 spoken words of that character, but for full comprehension there must 
 also be their effect on others. 
 
 The love, respect, and gratitude which Mr. Giles inspired were very 
 fully shown in the letters, resolutions, and tributes of esteem sent to 
 my mother after his death. 
 
 From some of these, extracts have been taken; they are not always 
 given literally, but in any event will enable the reader, who has hereto- 
 fore stood beside Mr. Giles and with him looked out upon the world, 
 to regard Mr. Giles from the world's standpoint. Both points of view 
 are necessary in order to form a just estimate. 
 
 From a Canadian paper, the Star in the East: 
 
 His sermons and lectures, the result of three separate pastorates, have, 
 as extensively published and circulated in tract form, awakened a wide- 
 spread interest. As he traveled much, five times going abroad, and as 
 his presence was called for and cheerfully given in almost every centre 
 of New Church activity on this side of the Atlantic, he became person- 
 ally identified with the organizations of the Church in many different 
 localities. His name has become a household word wherever the 
 Heavenly Doctrines are received. 
 
 The distinguishing feature of the literary productions of Mr. Giles 
 is the peaceful spirit that pervades them. They express tlie truth, not 
 in an aggressive but in an attractive form. The large circulation of his 
 works bears testimony to the demand which has existed for them. 
 
 Speaking of him as a pastor, one who knew him well, says: 
 
 He did not seek to control his parishioners by merely using his per- 
 sonal influence, but always, no matter what the question was . . . the 
 effort would be made to learn and teach the spiritual truth or principle 
 applicable to the case, and have that truth given. And this was done 
 
 -^ 462 }?^~
 
 COMMENTS OF CONTEMPORARIES 
 
 so fairly and patiently, line upon line, and precept upon precept, that 
 strong men of more than ordinary ability and strength of character 
 changed the opinions and prejudices of a lifetime. Two men espe- 
 cially, who had for years been opposed to the Convention, became his 
 closest friends, and generously sustained him in all he did, including 
 union witli that General Convention, in its turn greatly changed and 
 broadened by this wise forbearance. He had strong influence with 
 men, but he never used his power to compel . . . but would wait until 
 with common consent and with good heart all could unite in the pro- 
 posed action. 
 
 Some of the notices speak of the simple, unaffected dignity of his 
 manner in the pulpit. One writer, who describes him as of medium 
 height, with dark eyes and domelike forehead and shaggy eyebrows, 
 mentions his white hair and beard and compares him to a veritable 
 patriarch. Another mentions the beauty of his voice, of clear, resonant 
 quality and distinct enunciation. A friend writes: 
 
 When in the latter days of his life his weakness prevented his offici- 
 ating in the pulpit, his voice, as he joined in the responses witli the large 
 congregation, could be clearly distinguished. No matter how large the 
 hall or church, without unduly elevating his voice he seemed to fill it 
 to its remotest comer. . . . But rich and delightful as were those tones, 
 what shall be said of his wonderful choice of words and images, and 
 his power of making clear the most profound truths? 
 
 Another factor of his strength as a speaker was that he himself 
 firmly believed what he was saying. He spoke from an innermost 
 unshakable conviction, with an ardent desire to bless others with the 
 principles which, after he had formed them, brightened his whole life. 
 
 The external surroundings in which he spoke affected him not at all. 
 He was equally at home in a log schoolhouse, reading by the iiglit of 
 one candle, in the groves about Lake George, or in the large halls, 
 theatres, and churches of various cities in which he addressed crowded 
 audiences. In tiie symposium given in the church of Dr. James Free- 
 man Clarke of Boston, when representative clergymen of all denomina- 
 tions spoke, each in explanation of his own jieculiar tenets, the influence 
 of Mr. Giles's discourse was very remarkable. His subject was "The 
 
 -•b{ 463 }««••-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Church of the New Jerusalem, a new Dispensation of Divine Truth." 
 He spoke more than an hour, but his large audience remained until the 
 end, listening with rapt attention. One of Boston's leading journals 
 published every word of it die next morning, and finding an unprece- 
 dented demand for copies of it, reprinted it in their semi-weekly edition. 
 Being still unable to fill the demand they reprinted it in their weekly 
 edition. Many copies of this discourse have been distributed in Europe 
 and America, and it has been translated into other tongues. 
 
 Shortly after Mr. Giles's death a society meeting was held in order 
 to take action regarding die pastorate. 
 
 At the request of the chairman. Rev. Wm. L. Worcester spoke briefly 
 of Mr. Giles's last illness. Much diat he said has already been men- 
 tioned elsewhere, but as it is a beautiful tribute from one who knew 
 and loved him well, I would like to mention one or two points. The 
 whole account is from the New Church Messenger. 
 
 His mind was very much alive to all things concerning the Church, 
 even to the last days. And even in little questions of difficulty which 
 arose, by choosing a favorable moment I could consult him about 
 them, and he liked to advise and help. I do not think we realize how 
 largely we have leaned upon him through the year, when we have seen 
 him so little. The thing I wanted most to speak of was the wonderfully 
 beautiful spirit that we have seen in Mr. Giles, growing more and more 
 perfect day by day. It has seemed to draw us very near to the gates of 
 the other world, and during this last week I have felt more plainly than 
 ever how this life goes right on into the other world ; it is not this life 
 ended and another begun, but the same life going right on, and Mr. 
 Giles's uses have been such heavenly uses that we have no difficulty in 
 thinking of them as taken up immediately and with great delight. 
 
 At this meeting by a unanimous vote Mr. Worcester was called to the 
 pastorate of the society. In his response, in which he gratefully ac- 
 cepted the position, Mr. Worcester spoke of how much Mr. Giles had 
 hoped that such action would be taken. 
 
 A friend in Cincinnati writes: 
 
 No man whom I ever knew had such power of applying the truths 
 that he taught to the familiar comparison with every-day life. No man 
 knew as he did how to reach the hearts of men and impress them with 
 
 -^ 464 ^"-
 
 COMMENTS OF CONTEMPORARIES 
 
 both the reality of the other life and the way to attain its choicest bless- 
 ings. It was a wontlerfiil gift, and those who were in the habit of hear- 
 ing him knew what it meant. 
 
 From Rev. Adolf Roeder comes the following, dated March 18, 
 1919: 
 
 These points of contact with your father's life seem wortliy of record. 
 There are two of them wliich I feel can be regarded as points touching 
 life, and four as touching the teaching of the doctrines. 
 
 The first is his wonderful skill in popularizing the philosophy and 
 theology of Swedenborg, and selecting the vital truths and shaping 
 them for application to life. 
 
 The second is his advice to me at my ordination, when he told me to 
 go out and preach life; "The Church," he added, '"has already suffi- 
 cient doctrine." 
 
 The four doctrinal jioints can bo divided into dirce of an intellectual, 
 and one of a practical nature, although all four of them are really in- 
 tensely practical. 
 
 First. That Heaven is in the human form, and that tlie thought of 
 "form" must be differentiated from tlie idea of "shape," which is an 
 important distinction. 
 
 Second. That hell is not a prison, hut a hospital, which is a vitally 
 helpful thought. 
 
 Third. That spiritual giving differs from natural giving, in that if 
 one gives a friend a book, the giver has one less book, but if he gives 
 comfort, advice, or sympathy, his stoik of these spiritual values is in- 
 creased and strengthened by the manner of their reception. 
 
 And finally, I once heard Mr. Giles talk to a Philadelphia group of 
 auditors about giving to the Lord. "I do not like the expression Mo 
 give to the Lord.' It sounds to me as though we said tlial we 'gave the 
 giver the amount of his bill,' instead of paying what is legitimately 
 his due. We do not give to the Lord, we pay Him His due; we meet 
 our obligations to Him, for all the wonderful tilings He does for us." 
 
 I hope these mav prove useful to you in your work, in which I wish 
 you most heartily "God speed." 
 
 -^ 465 )a—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 This is selected from tlie many newspaper notices: 
 
 In tlie death of the Rev. Chauncey Giles the followers of the doc- 
 trines of Emmanuel Swedenborg in this country have lost a prop and 
 pillar of their faith. No American has done more than Dr. Giles to 
 interpret to his countrymen the teachings of the great Swede. The 
 greater part of his active life was employed in this work, which he pur- 
 sued with untiring and unselfish zeal. He was a pulpiteer whose dis- 
 courses were models of logical statement, and at tlie same time filled 
 with spiritual beauty, and the great mass of writings in which he propa- 
 gated the Swedenborgian faith through tracts, pamphlets, and books, 
 was characterized by a high order of intellectual power. His life work 
 was largely a struggle for recognition of tlie tenets which he taught, 
 and his followers were few compared with the religious sects around 
 him; but here, as well as in other communities, his influence resulted in 
 an advance of the Swedenborgian doctrine and in a study of it by many 
 intelligent thinkers. Dr. Giles was a modest, unobtrusive, and useful 
 clergyman, and his fine mental gifts would have made him far more 
 conspicuous tlian he was, before the world, had he been engaged in 
 other labors than those of the pioneer of a new faith who served only 
 the cause of what he conceived to be pure truth. 
 
 From the Biographical Sketch given in the New Church Messenger 
 these extracts are taken: 
 
 In the removal of Mr. Giles we have taken from us the most widely 
 known man of the New Church. He was beyond all comparison the 
 leader in the work of New Church propagandism, and has doubtless 
 said, published, and done more for making known to the world the 
 doctrines of the New Church than any other man in its history. By his 
 removal one of the strong men of our household is taken from us. 
 
 After giving details of his life already known to our readers, the 
 first trip abroad is mentioned, with tlie remark that "His reception by 
 the English New Church was an ovation." 
 
 Mr. Giles was particularly successful in inaugurating enterprises 
 for carrying on New Church work and in calling forth the cooperative 
 
 -^ 466 ^-
 
 COMMENTS OF CONTEMPORARIES 
 
 labors and the material contributions of his contemporaries. This was 
 most strikingly manifested in the great work he accomplished in Phila- 
 delphia, where under his ministration the society increased in numbers 
 and erected a large church, with book rooms connected with it, and 
 widely extended the work of the Tract Society. 
 
 Mr. Giles had a remarkably clear conception of the New Church doc- 
 trines. Certain truths, particularly those which present the New Church 
 as a new dispensation of Divine truth, and its doctrines as constituting 
 a spiritual science, and as being expressed through the laws of corre- 
 spondence in natural Uiings, were so wrought into his intelligence that 
 he could think only in their light, and he could write forever from the 
 inspiration of their life. He possessed through this perception a re- 
 markable facility of illustration, and tlience an efficient ability in pre- 
 senting the doctrines of the Church to those not familiar with them. 
 
 Wliile Mr. Giles was a man of great enterprises, he was not given to 
 details of work. He was non-ccclcsiaslical in the form of his tliought 
 and disposition and was never the priest. He was not given to form. 
 Petty rules and restrictions had little weight in his thought. His one 
 central mission, to give to the world a knowledge of the doctrines of the 
 Church, so held possession of him that all other things were dwarfed 
 in its presence. 
 
 Of Mr. Giles more than of most of our number who are taken from us 
 we may say that he has finished a great and a distinct work for the 
 Church. He had a mission to accomplish, and he has done it. He 
 had a word to say to the world, and he said it. 
 
 A friend has recently sent this grateful expression of help received 
 from Mr. Giles: 
 
 So often your father, wlien things have seemed to grow complex and 
 baffling, has come forward with some clear and simj>le word that has 
 made the whole situation so possible, so lucid, that one takes heart 
 again, and finds himself able to go on with a truer vision of life and its 
 duties and i)rivilegfs. It was a great and wonderful gift that he pos- 
 sessed anil used for the benefit of more of us than can ever be ntkoned. 
 
 --^ 467 \^-
 
 B, 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 Contributions to New Church Literature 
 
 *OOKS and sermons have their use. They are incidents in tlie life 
 of the spirit. Sometimes they are milestones which not only show how 
 far we have traveled, but they are also an inn in which we may tarry 
 and get rest and food for the night and strength for another day's 
 advance. 
 
 Thus writes Mr. Giles in his diary. It is the remark of a lover of 
 books who reads not merely for pleasure but for intellectual and spir- 
 itual progress. When writing for others he had the same ends in view. 
 In his opinion no perfection of literary art was too good for the attain- 
 ment of this purpose. 
 
 Such was his ideal. He writes: 
 
 If I had the time I should like to make each sermon a gem of liter- 
 ary expression. 
 
 The multiplicity of his other duties prevented such extreme care with 
 the mere workmanship of his writing. Instead his mind was con- 
 centrated upon the plainest possible expression of the truth he wished 
 to convey and upon its reception and application to life by his hearers 
 and readers. 
 
 Many times in his diary Mr. Giles remarks that he could not from 
 the beginning plan a lecture or sermon as a whole. The central thought 
 ramified as he wrote. This did not prevent his blocking out beforehand 
 a skeleton of his subject; in fact, he always did, and very interesting 
 those skeletons are. 
 
 His concentration upon the subject in mind was intense, and yet it 
 was remarkable how well he bore the more or less trivial interruptions 
 incident to his profession. 
 
 Mr. Giles's writings are permeated with a warm, loving sympathy 
 for the sorrows and failings of mankind. He rarely censures, and while 
 he strongly maintained his own convictions he has no word of condem- 
 nation for those who differ from him. 
 
 -«^ 468 }if-
 
 CONTRIBUTIONS TO NEW CHURCH LITERATURE 
 
 "Man as a Spiritual Being" is the most widely known of Mr. Giles's 
 writings. The substance was first given in a series of lectures delivered 
 in the New York church to crowded houses in the years 1861-1865. 
 Each lecture was printed immediately after delivery and five hundred 
 copies were distributed weekly. 
 
 This book, first puljlislied in 1868, has passed through many edi- 
 tions. Over one hundred thousand copies have been printed and it 
 is still in active circulation. It has been translated into many foreign 
 languages. 
 
 One of the most interesting anecdotes that has come to my knowl- 
 edge relates to the effect of "Man as a Spiritual Being" upon a man 
 who had for years been leading a life of sin. He drank to excess, and 
 as the friend who told me the story says: "He was in every political 
 rascality that went on in our city." This friend had interested himself 
 to help the poor man, and after, through his influence, really effecting 
 a change in his habits, gave him " Man as a Spirit" to read. While he 
 was reading the book a companion in corruption came to see him. in- 
 tending to return on the midnight train. Mr. C , we will call him, 
 
 said, " I won't talk one single word about business until I have read 
 something to you out of a book." I think you can imagine how the 
 man would accept that. He expressed himself verj' forcibly. Perhaps 
 
 it would look better not to write tlie language used. But Mr. C 
 
 persisted and the man said, " What 's the use, C , of talking to 
 
 me about these things now? Haven't we read Tom Paine, Rousseau, 
 Voltaire, and everytliing going? How can you possibly give me any- 
 thing new? " To which Mr. C answered: " I know what you and 
 
 I have read, but I tell you, this is something different.'^ With that he 
 commenced reading aloud, but llie man was very indignant and refused 
 
 to pay any attention. This didn't disconcert Mr. C . He kept on 
 
 reading, and finally the man stopped him and said, " Hold on a minute! 
 Read that over again, wil' you?" They read until tliree o'clock in the 
 morning. 
 
 Afterwards Mr. C told me the reason he liked the book. "That 
 
 book begins right down just wlien- you are. You can staml ahmgside 
 Mr. Giles; understand exactly all that lie is saying. Then little by little 
 you begin going up and up and finally you are away up voiulcr: but 
 you can follow him and you can undi-rsland him even when lie gets 
 away up there." 
 
 It was a j)rincii)le often expressed by Mr. Giles. — "that llie Lord 
 always meets man where he is." Surely tiiis anecdote illu>lrales that 
 
 --•{ 469 ^-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 Mr. Giles in a humble, finite way sought to imitate his Lord and Master. 
 
 When Mr. C died he left money to the church. His widow, not a 
 
 New Churchwoman, remarked that she was glad that her husband made 
 the bequest because of the reform effected in his life by New Church 
 teachings. 
 
 To many minds the use of prayer is a mystery. Since God is a Being 
 of Infinite Love and Wisdom He must know what is best for us; a Being 
 of immutable law, we cannot change results by our petitions — why, 
 then, pray? 
 
 " Perfect Prayer " begins by stating the true nature of man's rela- 
 tion to the Lord, i. e., that of the recipient to the Giver of Life. The 
 Lord in His love is ardently wishing to bestow upon us every good, — 
 good which because of imiversal laws we may not receive without a 
 radical change in ourselves. As the author says: 
 
 In all genuine prayer there is behind the special request an acknowl- 
 edgment of our dependence upon the Lord for the power to receive as 
 well as to ask, and a surrender of the inmost causes of thought and 
 affections to His guidance. However desirable the special blessing we 
 seek may seem to us, the condition, " Not as I will, but as Thou wilt," is 
 always implied. Sincere, genuine prayer tends to bring us into such 
 relations to the Lord that we can receive what He gives us the power 
 to ask. 
 
 Suppose we honestly pray that our sins may be forgiven and that we 
 may again be admitted to heaven. We may think only of die penalty 
 and believe that the Lord can forgive sin as a magistrate can pardon 
 a criminal, and that we can be admitted into heaven by personal favor, 
 as we might be to a feast. The Lord begins to answer our prayer. He 
 suffers us to be tried and tempted that we may see our evils and put 
 them away. Afflictions come upon us; the love of the world and self is 
 assaulted, and instead of the rest and peace of heaven, we come into 
 infernal torment. Why is this? Has the Lord turned a deaf ear to our 
 prayer? If in our agony we should cry to the Lord, " Lord, hear 
 me, answer me, save me! " His reply could truly be: "I do hear you, 
 I am answering you, I am saving you." So the Lord leads us in a way 
 we know not and could not have chosen, to the end we seek. He answers 
 our prayer while He seems to reject it. 
 
 -4 470 ^•-
 
 CONTRIBUTIONS TO NEW CHURCH LITERATURE 
 
 There are chapters on " Efficacious Prayer," " H>TJocritical and Vain 
 Prayer," followed by an exposition of the " Perfect Prayer, the Lord's 
 Prayer." 
 
 No subject is of greater importance to every one than his attitude 
 towards the marriage relation. In the "Sanctity of Marriage" the 
 author shows tlie holy principles upon which a true marriage is based 
 and how they must be applied. He says: 
 
 The true effort to prepare for marriage leads to the shunning of 
 every evil that would taint the purity of marriage, and every error that 
 would tend to disturb its harmony. The young man and the young 
 woman will say, " If I am tlie measure of what I desire in husband or 
 wife, I must raise the standard of excellence as high as possible. If 
 I desire an unselfish companion through the eternal years, I must my- 
 self be unselfish. I must be pure if I would be linked to purity. I must 
 be kind if I am to expect kindness, truthful if I am to wed the truth, 
 faithful to every trust if I desire fidelity in my other self. I must shun 
 in myself every imperfection tlial could lessen my respect for husband 
 or wife and tend to separation." 
 
 The centrally fundamental doctrine of the New Church, that of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ as the only God of Heaven and earth, is presented 
 in the lectures on the " Incarnation and Atonement." The Hon. John 
 Bigelow thought the contrast between the prevalent idea of the atone- 
 ment and the new, particularly well done. Mr. Bigelow wrote in great 
 detail a review of " Wliy I am a New Churchman." 
 
 "Heavenly Blessedness" is an exposition of the Sermon on tlie 
 Mount. It was written in Cincinnati but published many years later, 
 about 1872, in England. 
 
 "Human Stewardsliip "' treats of man's absolute dependence upon 
 the Lord for everything. It is said that the ideas advanced in this 
 treatise were largely instrumental in the successful atcomplishmcnt of 
 building the new and bcautilul cliunli in Pliila(lflj)liia. I'lic statement 
 is plainly made that: 
 
 There is only one Owner in His own right, and lliat is tlie Lord. Man 
 has never liked this truth. It is not pleasant to his love of self to know 
 and acknowledge that we are nothing and have nothing of any value 
 which He did not give us, and that however much we may glor>' in die 
 
 — i(171)=—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 wealth or power or knowledge we possess, we have no absolute owner- 
 ship in a particle of it. But whether we like it or not, such is the fact. 
 
 It is perhaps not best to take up witli comments each book in turn, but 
 something should be said of Mr. Giles's books for children. 
 
 His juveniles were chiefly for Christmas or Easter, but some of the 
 stories were written for the Children's Magazine. A few of them em- 
 body some of his own boyhood's experiences, but the greater part are 
 constructed aroimd some truth or law of the spirit as it relates to re- 
 generate life, a truth which is developed by illustration and incident 
 as naturally and easily as a flower unfolds. There is little plot, but 
 the children are live youngsters who talk and act like real folks, and 
 the child's point of view is always sympathetically, sometimes humor- 
 ously, considered. 
 
 Who that has read the story when a child or listened to it from my 
 father's voice can forget the disappointment of Charles when the money 
 from his " Wonderful Pocket " was not forthcoming for selfish purposes 
 or his delight after thinking its magical contents irretrievably lost to 
 find it radiantly shining when he wished to use it for others? 
 
 How the majestic " Angels' Christmas Tree " rises before one, with 
 the sadly indifferent children reluctantly receiving only the poorest of 
 the rich treasures proff^ered them by tlieir heavenly visitors! 
 
 What child who has heard " Metempsychosis " has not reflected on 
 the character of his own possible transformation? 
 
 With what sympathy and amusement one has watched the " Magic 
 Shoes " lead Thomas Stubbs from his waywardness into a state of 
 obedience. 
 
 How beautiful the Pearl Angel! How fraught with heavenly truth 
 Lillie's journey to the "Gate of Pearl"! And what a surprise awaits 
 one in the last chapter! 
 
 How naturally and easily the Story Children, after testing the bene- 
 ficial qualities of the " Magic Spectacles " in their lessons, are led to 
 use them in the detection and putting away of their evils! 
 
 One other little story, published since Mr. Giles's death, must be 
 mentioned, — " Papilio: the Story of a Butterfly." This is a tale which 
 by means of a lively and somewhat dramatic dialogue between a butter- 
 fly and the author clearly teaches by analogy man's immortality. It 
 was used for distribution among the soldiers during the late war. 
 It is particularly appropriate for Easter. 
 
 My father loved little children and they felt the winning warmth of 
 
 -4 472 ^'-
 
 CONTRIBUTIONS TO NEW CHURCH LITERATURE 
 
 his affection. No little one was too shy to withstand the appeal of his 
 smile. Wlien, as at Poultney. the many children in the house saw him 
 coming down tlie avenue, "Mr. Giles, Mr. Giles," they would cry, and 
 soon little feet were running towards him and little hands were tugging 
 at his hands or clasped around his legs as he walked. One time when 
 he was revisiting Cincinnati a pretty incident occurred which might he 
 told here. Mr. Giles had heen out of town to visit some friends and 
 they had presented him willi some heauliful flowers. Returning to the 
 city he was passing througli Longworth Street, hy his old home, on his 
 way to dine with other friends. Presently, as he walked, the children 
 in the street gathered al)out him with shrill cries of "Give me a flower. 
 Mister. Please give me a flower." Mr. Giles stopped with the flowers 
 in his hand, looked kindly upon the little group of upturned faces and 
 said: "Children, I will tell you ahout these flowers, and then if you 
 think I ought to give you some, I will. They came from the ganlen of 
 a very dear friend who has gone to the spiritual world, and his daughter 
 has given them to me hecause I loved him very much. Now, do you 
 think I ought to give them away?" Oh, no. Mister; no, indeed," said 
 they. " I cannot give you the flowers, but I can tell you something of 
 the place to which my friend has gone." .\nd then in his clear, simple 
 way he told these little urchins something of the beauties of heaven 
 and passed on. Presently he heard the palter of little feet behind him, 
 and he thought perhaps the children were going to beg a flower after 
 all. But no, they approached shyly and said, "Thank you for your 
 nice story, Mister." 
 
 This must be a chapter of last words which have not found their aji- 
 propriate niche in the earlier pages. Once when my father was in 
 company some one said, " Mr. Giles, you must have had many remark- 
 able experiences; what do you consider the most unusual one?" My 
 father thought a moment and then said: 
 
 One time when I was preaching in London, after tlie service a man 
 came to me and said: "Sg you are Chauncey Giles! I am very glad 
 to meet you. You do not know it, but there was a time when I did not 
 believe in any God, but you com inced me. I was climbing the Andes 
 with a friend and the talk fell on religious subjects. I expressed my 
 utter disbelief. My friend took from his pock<'t a tract by Chauncey 
 Giles. This I read and it removed my unbelirf. I did mil know who 
 the writer was or what religious ih-nominalion he represcnlc-il, but that 
 
 — ){ 473 ^
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 little tract changed my whole outlook on life. To-day I was passing 
 by this church and I saw on the bulletin board that Chauncey Giles was 
 to preach. So I came to see the man to whom I owe so much." 
 
 Mr. Giles was an industrious writer. Besides the books I have 
 mentioned there was the " Second Coming of the Lord," the " Forgive- 
 ness of Sin," and '" The Valley of Diamonds." Added to these publi- 
 cations must be the sermons and lectures printed separately, some tliree 
 hundred in number, and tlie Editorials for the Messenger, and stories 
 for die Children's Magazine, which have not been gathered into a book. 
 
 His correspondence was very large, and it is no exaggeration to say 
 that he wrote thousands of letters, not to mention the diarj' kept during 
 the greater part of his life. 
 
 To Rev. William Worcester my father left tlie charge of his manu- 
 scripts, consisting of about five hundred and eighty unpublished sermons. 
 From these are selected the discourses on " Progress in Spiritual Knowl- 
 edge." This memorial volume was published in 1895. It contains an 
 excellent biographical sketch written by Mr. Worcester. 
 
 Under the same auspices have been published the two little books on 
 "Learning to Live" and "The Human Soul." 
 
 Perhaps no subject which is commonly taught in our universities has 
 a more disintegrating effect on the acknowledgment of the Lord as our 
 Creator and Redeemer than the doctrine of "Evolution" as advanced by 
 modern scientists. It is the mission of Mr. Giles's book on the subject 
 to show the order of creation as presented in Swedenborg's " Divine 
 Love and Wisdom." 
 
 After its publication Mr. Giles received the following letter from 
 President Mark Hopkins of Williams College. 
 
 May 13, 1887. 
 
 It is seldom in these days that I read a book dirough, but I have read 
 yours, with pleasure and profit. I don't see how your view could be 
 better presented. You draw the distinction clearly between theistic 
 and adieistic evolution and your whole scheme is logical and consistent. 
 Whedier your whole view shall be accepted or not, your book is a very 
 valuable addition to die literature on this subject. 
 
 It is some years since I have read die writings of Swedenborg, and 
 I didn't remember that he supposes, as I infer from your book that he 
 
 -^ 474 ^'-
 
 CONTRIBUTIONS TO NEW CHURCH LITERATURE 
 
 does, that God is in the form of a man. To me that is a stumbling 
 block, but detracts nothing from your theory' of evolution. 
 
 At the beginning of the little book on "Our Children in the Other 
 Life" Mr. Giles writes, "Bereaved and sorrowing motlier, this is for 
 you!" And then he tenderly and clearly gives her the comforting 
 truths of the New Church upon the subject. 
 
 A friend told me that after the death of her baby she returned home 
 from a walk one day and found a copy of "Our Children in the Other 
 Life " on her bureau. WiUiout removing her outdoor things she stood 
 and read the little book to its close, and added, " It has been of inex- 
 pressible comfort to me." 
 
 One day my father was at the New Church book rooms at Cooper 
 Union. A distinguished physician of the city came in and at once 
 greeted Mr. Giles with the remark, " You are a much better doctor dian 
 I." Naturally this statement caused some surprise, and he then ex- 
 plained that he had amongst his patients a poor mother who was griev- 
 ing herself to death over the loss of her baby. The little book so 
 changed her attitude towards life that she was again able to resume lu-r 
 daily duties and even to think with cheerfulness of her little one. 
 
 The history of "Consolation" is very touching. The possibility of 
 writing it was first suggested to Mr. Giles when he knew that his 
 own tenure of this life was very frail, and that the summons might 
 come at any time. In reading a biographical sketch of the poet Whittier 
 he was much impressed with tlie amount of literary work accomplished 
 by him in the stronger intervals of feeble health. 
 
 Inspired by this example, he too, in the hours when he felt equal to 
 any exertion, wrote the little book "Consolation." It seemed to him 
 "a thing of shreds and patches," but no author is the best judge of his 
 own literary work. In the chapter on "Love and Loyalty" there is a 
 sympadiv which very clearly recognizes the dilTerent phases of feeling 
 through which a mourner passes. 
 
 In other parts of the book the necessity of giving out to others in 
 helpful words and deeds is very strongly maintaiiiod. For the latter 
 reason friends of the Unitarian Church who have met with bereavement 
 have gaiiifd mtich comfort from the jierusal of the little volume. It 
 meets them in the strongest tenet of their religion, doing good to others. 
 
 Mr. David L. Webster was one of the prominent New Churchmen 
 of the Boston Society. He was very intelligent in our doctrines and a 
 most lovable character. W itii a fleeting glance one was nuich impressed 
 
 --.bI 475 )3—
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 by his strong resemblance to Mr. Giles. The resemblance faded on 
 closer observation, but sometimes amusing mistakes were made. His 
 wife always maintained tliat there was not the slightest likeness between 
 the two men. But one time as she and Mr. Webster were coming into 
 the lobby of Pike's Opera House — -the walls of which were lined with 
 mirrors — she suddenly seized her husband's arm and said, "Look, 
 look, there is Mr. Giles." Imagine her chagrin when she saw that it 
 was only her husband's reflection in the mirror. At another time my 
 sister, who was in haste to consult my fadier about something, saw Mr. 
 Webster coming in at the church door and went toward him with the 
 greeting, " Father." Mr. Webster himself said he was often compli- 
 mented on his good sermons. This letter to Mr. Giles from him was 
 written in his old age, when he was nearly blind. The handwriting is 
 very large and a black pencil is used. 
 
 To Mr. Giles from Mr. D. L. Webster 
 
 Boston, July 18, 1893. 
 
 I have had your " Consolation " read to me and I am exceedingly 
 grateful to you for writing it. It must be of very great use to many 
 people, and I have no doubt it was a constant consolation to yourself 
 to see the subject develop before your eyes as you thought and wrote 
 upon it. 
 
 While listening to the reading it was a source of continual surprise 
 to see how exhaustively point after point of the subject was brought up 
 and how satisfactorily each was disposed of. 
 
 I cannot but think that the final result must have been as much a 
 surprise to you as it was to me. 
 
 I deeply sympatliize with Mrs. Giles and yourself in your illness, 
 and have no doubt bodi will receive all the consolation which a loving 
 Providence can furnish under the circumstances. 
 
 P.S. to Mr. Giles. The following is an extract from a letter received 
 by me to-day from a lady whose son died about three weeks since in 
 the hotel where my niece and myself were then staying: 
 
 " I am indeed deeply bereaved, for I can neither pray nor read; even 
 the pleasure of looking at my son's photograph is taken from me. In 
 looking at it, it seems strange. I have forgotten how my darling one 
 
 -4. 476 ^'-
 
 CONTRIBUTIONS TO NEW CHURCH LITERATURE 
 
 looked. Is it not pitiable? I want your prayers and Miss 's that 
 
 God will heal my broken heart." 
 
 I sent her a copy of your " Consolation." 
 
 A lecture on " Mountains: their Natural Use and Spiritual Meaning," 
 was published as a vacation nunilnT for the Helper in tlie summer of 
 1911. This gives many of the thoughts which came to Mr. Giles when 
 looking upon the Alps. 
 
 Some time after its publication those in charge of the New Church 
 book rooms in Philadelphia were surprised to receive within the space 
 of a week or ten days orders for this lecture from all over the country. 
 This sudden demand from so many different localities was explained 
 when it was learned that in Boston, I think, there had been a type- 
 writer's Convention. As a contest for speed this lecture, being of suit- 
 able length, was read aloud to the assembled stenographers. That their 
 interest was aroused is shown by the orders sent to the book rooms. 
 
 The '■ Chauncey Giles Year Book " contains an extract from Mr. 
 Giles's writings for every day in the year, with an appropriate Scrip- 
 true text for each selection. 
 
 In writing a review for this book Rev. Frank Sewall savs: 
 
 'o 
 
 Few of us, remembering the clear and practical expositions of Scrip- 
 ture and the fine eloquence of the sermons of Chauncey Giles, think of 
 him or speak of him as a poet; and yet in his writings will doubtless 
 be found many a gem of genuine poetic expression — the real creative 
 art, that will characterize the poetry that tlie New Church is to produce. 
 
 Emerson, with all his appreciation of tlie spiritual meaning of na- 
 ture, and all his knowledge of what Swedenborg has taught men about 
 it, has never drawn finer pictures than these, which fairly glow with 
 spiritual life and beauty. 
 
 He then quotes from "Mountains; tlieir Natural Use and Spiritual 
 Meaning": 
 
 "Tlie winds which seem so idle and lawless, roaming over land and 
 sea, resting when they will; and stopping to play and sing with leaf and 
 falling stream, are doing His biddinfr, ' Vilio maketli the clouds His 
 chariot; Wlio walkcth upon tin- wiii^s ol the wind."'" 
 
 Again from the same: 
 
 -4 477 )§►-
 
 THE LIFE OF CHAUNCEY GILES 
 
 " In loving reciprocal service every drop of water which runs through 
 Nile and Amazon and Mississippi was given to the mountains, like a 
 good man's deeds, through the silent and invisible channels of the upper 
 air. Every particle was raised on the wings and in the loving embrace 
 of the angels of heat, sent forth by the sun on these errands of mercy. 
 In these invisible forms, and the awful silences of the upper air, the 
 ocean gives its dower to the mountains, and sends its messages of love 
 and cheer to man." 
 
 The italicized lines are in the noblest forms of poetic expression, 
 and are unique in their ability to inspire a purely scientific fact with 
 spiritual life and beauty as only the mind imbued with the New 
 Churchman's knowledge of the Divine correspondences of nature 
 can do. 
 
 -^ 478 ^-
 
 Ay 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 THIS Bt)OK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW. 
 
 Series 9482
 
 ^ III II II II ill II III 
 
 D 000 459 758
 
 ^Jif^'' 
 
 'M