Chapter XLVII (1)

ONE HUNDRED YEARS OLD—SPECIAL CENTENNIAL SERVICE.

On Tuesday, June 8, 1875, Father Boehm completed the one hundredth year of his age. The event was publicly celebrated on that day in the Trinity Methodist Episcopal Church, Jersey City, under the auspices of a committee of the Newark Conference, to which the reverend centenarian belongs. Of course the church was crowded, and, as was the case at the preliminary service held in April, the building could not accommodate all who sought admission. Among the ministers present were the venerable Dr. John S. Porter, Rev. Bartholomew Weed, Rev. Father Reynolds; Presiding Elders Vanhorne and Brice, of the Newark Conference; President John F. Hurst, D.D., Prof. John Miley, Prof. H. A. Buttz, and Prof. Kidder, of Drew Theological Seminary; Rev. Jacob Todd, Rev. Dr. Foss, Rev. Dr. Dashiell, Rev. Geo. L. Taylor, Rev. Dr. De Puy, Rev. Dr. Bartine, Rev. J. M. Freeman, Rev. John Atkinson, and other members of the Newark, New Jersey, Philadelphia, New York, New York East, and other Conferences. Among the audience was the mother of President Grant, who had come to town expressly to attend the services. A large and finely executed photographic portrait of Father Boehm hung in front of the pulpit. The venerable patriarch himself entered the church, attended by his physician, Dr. Walter Hadden, and took his place in the pulpit beside several of his ministerial brethren. He was in excellent condition, and remained throughout the service, which was three and a half hours in duration, without showing any signs of fatigue. The Rev. R. Vanhorne presided.

The proceedings were opened by the quartet choir singing the following hymn, written for the occasion by the Rev. Thomas H. Smith:—

God of our patriarch friend,
We raise our hearts to thee
Whose love and mercy never end
To all eternity.

Thy kindly care appears;
It challenges our praise;
Extending through a hundred years—
A hundred years of grace.

We praise thee for a life
So useful, Christlike, pure:
A life of manly Christian strife
Thy glory to secure.

Now crown his hoary age
With blessings all divine;
And may his life through every page
Still bright and brighter shine.

And to his latest day
Be peace and honor given,
Until he gently glides away
To sing thy praise in heaven.

After a comprehensive and impressive prayer by Rev. Bartholomew Weed, Rev. Father Reynolds read the Twenty-third Psalm. Then the choir sang the following hymn, composed for the occasion by Fanny Crosby:—

Thou Rock on which our Church is built,
And shall forever stand,
On him, its oldest watchman, now
Thy blessing, Lord, command.

Behold this vet’ran of the cross,
Our aged pilgrim sire,
And let the ardor of the past
Once more his soul inspire.

Well has he fought, and long has trod
The strait and narrow way;
The circle of his life completes
A hundred years to-day.

Dear Saviour, bear him in thine arms
While he on earth shall stay;
And with his years may blessings come
A hundredfold to-day.

So may we live, that we at last
May sing thy praise with him,
Where hearts shall never fail with time,
Nor eyes with age grow dim.

Father Boehm then arose, and amid profound silence and in a clear voice, which was heard distinctly throughout the church, spoke as follows:—

FATHER BOEHM’S REMARKS.

I rejoice to meet you here to-day, my brethren in the Lord. I
rejoice that I am privileged to see the wonderful progress of the
work of the Lord through our land. I rejoice that I am permitted
to see such an assemblage here to-day. The first time I passed
through this place there was no town here. That was in 1809,
with the venerable Bishop Asbury. There were sand-banks, and so
on, here then, but no houses—except the ferry-house, I think.
Blessed be God for his wonderful work throughout our land! Yes,
where we passed through wildernesses and solitary places, they
are now inhabited, and churches have arisen, where a numerous and
enlightened people worship and praise the Lord. Thanks be to his
name! I cannot speak very long. I will commit the subject of my
experience and travels to my “venerable” Brother Atkinson, who
will read you some facts appropriate to this occasion.

Rev. John Atkinson, on rising to read the autobiographical sketch, referring to the mirth occasioned by the centenarian’s jocose allusion, said: “Father Boehm understands that this is a festive occasion, and these good people like a little good cheer.” He then read the following

SKETCH OF FATHER BOEHM’S LIFE.

I was born in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, on June 8, 1775,
one hundred years ago this day. I was one year a subject of
King George, as it was not until I had attained that age that
the American people renounced their allegiance to the British
Government by proclaiming the Declaration of Independence. The
noise of the battles of Concord and Lexington had scarcely died
away when I drew my first breath, so that my history includes
nearly the whole of the period of the Revolutionary War. I was
a contemporary of the fathers and founders of the Republic, and
have lived under the administration of all the Presidents of
the United States. I clearly remember the days of Washington’s
presidency, and I cast my first vote for his successor, John
Adams, in 1796. I lived through almost a quarter of the last
century, and have lived thus far through the present one, and I
have witnessed with my own eyes the rise, progress, and present
grand development of the United States of America.

The changes and progress of the country within my recollection
have been so vast and overwhelming I scarcely know how to speak
of them. When I became a man there was only thirteen States.
Early in this century Ohio became a member of the Federal Union,
and then the star of our empire moved westward until it shone
upon the waves of the Pacific Ocean. I witnessed the system
of slavery in the Southern States, and I have been permitted
to see it swept from the land, and the banner of impartial
freedom waving triumphantly over every State. Bless the Lord! I
well remember the days when the steamboat was unknown, and the
railroad unthought of. The winds of heaven wafted our commerce,
and horses furnished our swiftest means of travel by land. I,
myself, have traveled over a hundred thousand miles on horseback.

I have witnessed the progress of the nation in population and
wealth to a degree that seems incredible to have been attained
in one man’s life-time. I have seen the increase of the oldest
cities, and the founding and wonderful growth of newer ones. I
have observed the advancement of our people from a comparatively
rude and pioneer condition to their present high _status_ of
intelligence, wealth, and refinement. When, in 1809, I first
stood upon the site of the city in which we are this day
assembled, I think there were no buildings upon it except the
ferry-house and the barn-houses which here and there dotted it.
To-day its streets and buildings cover a territory many miles in
circumference, and its population exceeds one hundred thousand
souls. Then the city of New York only reached to Canal-street,
and Brooklyn was a very small town. Cincinnati had then only
commenced its history, and Chicago was yet to be.

I have seen wonderful progress in the religious world in my time.
I was born nine years after the introduction of Methodism in New
York by Barbara Heck and Philip Embury, and nine years before the
organization of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and the election
of its first bishops, Coke and Asbury. When my life began there
were, probably, scarcely a half score of Methodist houses of
worship on this continent, and there were only 3,148 members and
19 traveling preachers. When I commenced my public life Methodism
was small, both numerically and financially. There were very
few commodious churches except in the large cities, such as
St. George’s, in Philadelphia, Light-street, in Baltimore, and
John-street, in New York.

Our best churches of that day were very inferior compared with
those of the present. Our meetings were mostly held, at the time
I began to preach, in private houses, in barns, and wherever we
could obtain shelter. There was much opposition shown toward us,
and I have had stones hurled at me while preaching.

I joined the Methodist Episcopal Church in 1797, in Boehm’s
Chapel, being at that time twenty-two years of age. My father,
Martin Boehm, was many years a minister among the United
Brethren, and was a bishop in that Church. He was for a long
time a warm personal friend of Bishop Asbury, and toward the
close of his life he united with our Church. Boehm’s Chapel is
still standing in good condition, and is now the church of the
neighborhood where it stands. My father’s influence contributed
much toward its erection. Bishop Whatcoat furnished the plan of
the edifice. It was built in 1791, was the first Methodist church
in Lancaster County, and it was one of the early fortresses of
American Methodism.

I was licensed to preach January 6, 1800, by Rev. Thomas Ware,
who was then presiding elder on the Chesapeake District, and
who at the same time appointed me to travel Dorchester Circuit,
on the eastern shore of Maryland. Therefore I was never a local
preacher, though I have been a witness of the great usefulness
of that numerous and honored class of Gospel heralds, whose
unremunerated and zealous labors have done so much for the
evangelization of this nation. In the days of my effective
ministry the local ministry was an indispensable adjunct of our
itinerant system.

About four months after I was licensed to preach I attended
the General Conference of 1800, in Baltimore. I was present at
Richard Whatcoat’s ordination as bishop, in the presence of
that body, in Light-street Church, and heard Dr. Coke’s sermon
on that occasion. I also was a witness of, and participant in,
the wonderful revival which prevailed in Baltimore during that
General Conference. People fell under the mighty influence that
rested upon them as they walked the streets. After the General
Conference closed I attended the Philadelphia Conference at
Smyrna, (then Duck Creek,) where the revival work went forward
with great power. It extended, in fact, over the whole Peninsula.
When I traveled Annamessex Circuit, in 1801, with William
Colbert, we received eight hundred persons into the Church in
that Circuit alone.

Methodism was very prosperous on the Peninsula in that day,
and included among its members many of the first people of
that section. Dr. White, Harry Ennalls, Governor Bassett, of
Delaware, an eminent lawyer, a judge, and a member of Congress
in 1787, Dr. Sellers, and others, gave influence and strength to
the denomination in those early times. The social position of
our Church has hardly been relatively higher anywhere in this
country, at any time in its history, than it was in the Peninsula
in the beginning of this century. That region furnished many of
our best and most successful preachers in the days when there
were giants among us, for truly there were giants in those days.
Among the great men of that period was Dr. Chandler, a man of
commanding intellect, of large executive capacity, a powerful
preacher, a mighty evangelist, greatly successful in winning
souls. Jesse Lee, one of the Church’s noblest and brightest
names, was then in his ripe maturity, and lost the bishopric by
only one vote at the first General Conference I attended. I was
with him in his last hours, heard his rapturous and triumphant
utterances as he met his final foe, and, at his own request, I
closed his eyes after the great soul departed. William Colbert,
one of my early colleagues was a man of low stature, but of
high usefulness, indefatigable in labor, and among the first in
success.

That portion of my life in which I was the traveling companion
of bishop Asbury has probably the most public interest, because
I was in that capacity the representative of the denomination at
large, and was the most intimate and daily associate of a man,
the purity and greatness of whose character, and the vastness and
value of whose work, must forever place him among the foremost
servants of God and mankind.

Bishop Asbury chose me to be his traveling companion in the
spring of 1808—which choice the Philadelphia Conference
ratified—and I ceased traveling with him at the conference of
1813, when he appointed me presiding elder of the Schuylkill
District, which comprised the whole territory from Wilmington
to Stroudsburgh, between the Susquehanna and the Delaware. My
first tour with Bishop Asbury was from a point between Baltimore
and Fredericktown, Maryland—a spot historic in Methodism, where
Strawbridge built his log church; thence westward. We crossed
the Alleghany Mountains on our way, and the ascent occupied
thirty-nine hours. I have since crossed the Alleghanies several
times in express trains in a much shorter time. I had previously
accompanied Asbury to the Alleghanies in 1803, where I left him
to pursue his westward journey, while I returned to my work.
Having passed the mountains, we made our way to Wheeling; thence
through Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee; thence pursued a southerly
course, visiting the conferences in the Southern States. During
the western portion of this tour we visited the territory
of Indiana, which was a vast wilderness. We traveled in it
thirty-six miles, and saw in all that distance only six human
habitations. Among the noted and worthy laymen whose acquaintance
I formed, and by whom I was entertained on this my first
journey with Bishop Asbury, were Governor Tiffin and Governor
Worthington, both of Ohio, who were exemplary and devoted members
and representatives of our Church. During our progress through
Tennessee we were joined by Bishop M’Kendree, who had just been
elected a bishop at Baltimore, and who was on his first episcopal
tour. He accompanied us through the South, presiding with Asbury
over the Southern conferences.

I became acquainted with the Southern Methodist preachers at
that time. Lovick Pierce, but a few years my junior, was then
conspicuous for the purity and beauty of his character, and his
popular talents as a preacher, and he yet lingers, with me,
behind our beloved early colaborers who have gone on before.
William Capers, beautiful in person and eloquent in speech,
was at that time received on trial by the conference. He was
afterward one of the most distinguished men in our connection,
and became a bishop of the Church South after we were divided.
The Southern Methodists at that time were remarkable for their
spiritual fervor, and Christian friendliness and hospitality.
There were among them many noble examples of the great virtues
produced by our faith. I learned to love the South, and I have
now fond memories of my friends whom I once cherished there.

I knew the South when there was but one Methodism in America. I
wept when, in 1844, we were rent asunder, and now, as I stand
amid the thronging memories of a century, I plead and pray that
Methodism, North and South, may become one again. I am, in some
sense, at least, a representative of the fathers of the Church—of
the preachers and bishops who toiled and sacrificed to lay strong
the foundations of our beautiful Zion, and I am sure I do not
misrepresent them when, in their name, and as almost their sole
survivor, I plead for a united Methodism throughout this great
land. This desire and prayer leaps strong and warm out of my
heart, which, after beating for a hundred years, still beats as
true and strong as ever for the welfare of the Church to which
its best love and zeal have been given.

During this first tour with Bishop Asbury I saw the Virginia
Conference. It was composed of a fine body of men. There was one
striking fact connected with it. Of the eighty-four members of
the body, the two bishops, and the traveling companion of the
bishops, all were bachelors except three. Our early preachers
were compelled to deny themselves largely of the pleasures and
endearments of domestic life, in order that they might do the
work of evangelists and make full proof of their ministry. At
this time I made the acquaintance of, and was entertained by,
Edward Lee, at Petersburgh, Va. He was a brother of Jesse Lee,
and father of Rev. Dr. Leroy M. Lee, now, and for a long time, a
distinguished representative of Southern Methodism.

From the Virginia Conference we proceeded over the Blue Ridge to
Harrisonburgh, where we attended the Baltimore Conference; thence
to the Philadelphia Conference, in St. George’s, Philadelphia,
Bishops Asbury and M’Kendree alternately presiding. Though
attending all the conferences, I was a member of this conference,
and was home again with my brethren. When my name was called
in conference the brethren said: “None but the bishop can tell
whether there is any thing against Brother Boehm.” The bishop
rose and said, with much gravity: “Nothing against Brother
Boehm.” This conference has given many noble and illustrious
ministers and laymen to the Church.

After the Philadelphia Conference, we proceeded onward through
New Jersey, which Bishop Asbury had not visited for twenty-five
years, and we missed our way in the Pines, and reaching a church
where the bishop had an appointment to preach, we found that,
as a result of our delay, the services had been commenced by
the preacher in charge of the circuit. The house was crowded.
Bishop Asbury immediately entered the pulpit, and, after talking
a brief time, he stepped backward and said: “I cannot preach;
Henry, you must get up and preach.” I immediately arose, and the
passage came to my mind, “And all thy children shall be taught of
the Lord, and great shall be the peace of thy children.” If the
passage had not come to my mind I should have been dumb, but as
it was I preached from it, and had a good time. After I finished
the bishop arose and delivered a warm exhortation. This was in
the coast region of South Jersey in 1809.

Proceeding toward New York, we were joined by bishop M’Kendree
again at Elizabeth, and at Elizabethport we saw for the first
time a steamboat. It excited our curiosity. We passed on to
Paulus’ Hook, now Jersey City. Here for the first time I saw
the noble Hudson, and crossed it to New York, where we met the
conference in John-street Church. Bishop M’Kendree was then first
introduced to the New York Conference. I traveled many hundreds
of miles with M’Kendree during my five years’ sojournings with
Asbury, and heard him preach, probably, at least a hundred
times. He was a very powerful preacher. He often preached great
sermons, and seldom preached a poor one.

From the New York Conference we proceeded to New England,
attending the only conference in that section, after which we
proceeded again on our western and southern tour. But it is
impossible for me on this occasion to recount the many scenes and
events I witnessed during my long journeys with that great man,
whose memory is ever green in my heart.

It was my office to attend upon and minister to him for five
years. I frequently lifted him upon his horse, and helped him to
alight. I gave him medicine when he was sick, and watched with
him at night. It was my privilege to attend Bishop Whatcoat in
his last illness, at Governor Bassett’s, in Delaware, in 1806. I
have been personally acquainted with all our bishops, from Coke
to Peck, but to none have I been so endeared as to Bishop Asbury.
I guarded him in his journeys when it was unsafe for him to be
without a companion, and I shared with him the perils of the
wilderness.

In North Carolina, coming on from Wilmington toward Newbern,
Bishop Asbury’s horse became frightened and ran away. He was in
the sulky, and I was on horseback. I suffered great apprehension
of mind, not knowing what to do. I did not dare to pursue after
him lest I should increase the horse’s fright, and so add to the
bishop’s peril. I began to pray, and if ever I prayed I prayed
then, that God would deliver the bishop from the destruction with
which he was threatened. Suddenly the horse stopped, and became
quiet and docile, and I rode up to the bishop, and found him in
much trepidation, but safe and thankful.

“The Lord is good: a stronghold in the day of trouble, and he
knoweth them that trust in him.” As I attended and guarded and
nursed Asbury, so am I attended, nursed, and tenderly cared for
by my beloved daughter in my weakness and age. My hope is bright,
and I expect soon to meet my colaborers on high.

The last of my dear friends who have preceded me was Rev. Dr.
Wakeley, my intimate associate for many years. He was to me a
true and loving friend. He was with me on my last birthday, and
participated in the service when I preached my centennial sermon
at the last session of the Newark Conference. He then expected to
be here to-day; but he is not here—he has gone on before. I shall
see him soon, and Asbury, and others dear to me,

“Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet;
While anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul.”

Rev. J. M. Freeman then read the following letter from Bishop Asbury to Rev. Joseph Totten, New Brunswick, N. J., written in 1811, to which were added a few lines by Father Boehm:—

LETTER FROM BISHOP ASBURY.

MARTIN BOEHM’S, _Aug. 10, 1811_.

MY DEAR BROTHER: We have need of great grace to make and keep us
what we ought to be as Christian men and Gospel ministers. Alas
for poor.... They are well kept whom the Lord keepeth, and they
only. I have been looking many years for a general spread, not
only of Methodism, but religion, in Jersey. There, I fear, we
shall grow so like other societies that there will be but little
difference. I have this morning opened about a dozen letters from
the South—growing prospects still; living and dying witnesses;
camp-meetings moving on; thirty or forty souls coming out, boldly
declaring what the Lord hath done for them. It is of consequence
to have scaffolding—I mean houses—for the service of God. I have
many times felt with Eli for the ark of God in forty years when
I view our prosperity—200,000 members; two or three millions
of annual hearers; between 2,000 and 3,000 local and traveling
preachers; that we minute almost 700 in eight conferences.
Satan, the world, carnal Churches—more so than ourselves—envy
us, and wish our fall; but let us watch, and fast, and pray. The
Lord will direct. Children and great grandchildren may forget
old fathers. I shall keep close to children whether the ship
should be in storm, or calm, or fresh breeze; near the helm,
if permitted, or before the mast. I cannot leave them or cast
them off. Let my traveling so many thousand miles in pain, in
lameness, in hunger, in thirst, in all seasons, witness, that I
wish to stand clear of a party or policy. I must speak and write
as a plain, open man, as you have always found me. Your request
to know the names of the delegates is what any one in your
standing might reasonably wish, and the names are on the cover
of my Characteristic Book. Brother Boehm knoweth the delegates;
he may give them in this letter. I may be censured if I do it;
nothing is hid. I conclude. Let us be plain, peaceable, praying
men; the Lord will direct us all. I hope for the best. You will
recollect how restless two young men were in the last General
Conference. It was but a little while they had to feel the rod or
staff of the bishops. I am most affectionately, as ever, yours,

F. ASBURY.

Following is Father Boehm’s postscript to the above:—

AT MY FATHER’S, _Aug. 11_.

DEAR BROTHER: Through a kind and gracious Providence my life and
peace are perpetuated to the present moment. I desire to exercise
greater confidence in the Lord as regards myself and the Church
of God.

H. BOEHM.

Rev. Abraham J. Palmer read some letters which had been received by the committee in charge of the centennial celebration, among which were the following:—

LETTER FROM BISHOP JANES.

NEW YORK, _May 8, 1875_.

REV. A. J. PALMER, DEAR SIR: I thank the committee for inviting
me to be present at the one hundredth birthday of Rev. Henry
Boehm. I should regard it as a very high honor, and it would
be a very great pleasure, to participate in the services of
that very unusual occasion were it practicable for me to do so
consistently with engagements made previous to the reception of
your invitation. My engagements in the West will not allow me to
return in time to enjoy the occasion. Permit me, through you, to
extend to Father Boehm my warm congratulations and affectionate
greetings. I am sure one who has lived so long and intimately
with God on earth will live with him forever in heaven. May
all who unite in celebrating his centennial share with him his
immortality!

Yours in Christian love,

E. S. JANES.

LETTER FROM BISHOP BOWMAN.

CHICAGO, _June 1, 1875_.

DEAR FATHER BOEHM: As neither my colleagues nor myself can be
present at your centennial anniversary, we beg to assure you that
our absence does not in the least indicate any loss of respect or
affection for you. Your pure Christian character and holy life,
as well as your long and valuable services to the Church, have
given you a warm place in our hearts. We are glad and thankful
that a kind Providence has spared you to us so long, and that
you are permitted to enjoy so comfortable and happy an old age.
It would give us great pleasure to be present on the occasion
referred to, and participate in the interesting and memorable
services connected with it. But as other duties will not allow
this, we hereby send our hearty congratulations and Christian
greetings, and most devoutly pray that God’s blessings may abound
toward you, and that, when the end shall have come, the light
of your cheerful and beautiful life may, without a cloud or a
shadow, melt away into the glory of heaven.

Yours affectionately,

THOMAS BOWMAN,
_By order of the Board of Bishops_.

LETTER FROM BISHOP SIMPSON.

PHILADELPHIA, _June 7, 1875_.

DEAR BROTHER PALMER: I regret that I cannot be present at Father
Boehm’s anniversary. At our recent meeting I was appointed to
hold the German Conference and to visit our missions in Italy
and Scandinavia, and I expect to sail this week. Please present
to Father Boehm my sincere congratulations that God has spared
him so long to the Church and the world. Few men have seen their
hundredth anniversary. Very few ministers have ever approximated
such an age. His experience, too, has been so rich and joyous. He
has seen the Church of his youth rise from infancy to maturity.
He has witnessed the development of all its agencies, and the
enlargement of its borders. We rejoice still to have his presence
with us, and his blessing upon us. May his last days be unusually
full of gracious enjoyments, and may he finally be crowned
in holy triumph in our Father’s kingdom. With thanks to the
committee for their courtesy, and with regret at my unavoidable
absence,

I am yours, truly,

M. SIMPSON.

LETTER FROM SAMUEL PETTIT.

PIQUA, O., _June 5, 1875_.

Rev. HENRY BOEHM:

MY DEAR BROTHER: I see by the “Western Advocate” that you expect
to celebrate your hundredth anniversary, which will be next
Tuesday, and I should be glad were it in my power to meet you on
that occasion. But as this cannot be, I must praise the Lord, and
shake hands with you in my heart. In 1822 I stopped at your house
in Lancaster, Pa., on my way to Reading, where Methodism was soon
after planted in that wicked town, which was on your circuit, and
where you were likely to be drowned by swimming the Schuylkill to
get to your appointment there, and where your books and clothes
were well soaked in the water, and where I took you to my house
and had you dried and comforted as best I could. It was in 1822
that you gave me my first license, which I still have to look
at. It was also in 1822, at Churchtown camp-meeting, that you
took into Society Ellen Righter, who has been my wife over fifty
years, and who has never been too tired to rise up and make the
preachers comfortable at our house, and who is known to most of
the preachers of the Cincinnati Conference, and whose praise is
in all the Churches.

You will remember Brother Kimber, who was my fellow-laborer at
Reading in the Church, and helped greatly in the work of the
Lord. He still lives in Urbana, Ohio, and he and I are now both
in our seventy-ninth year, and, by the grace of God, walking by
the same rule, and minding the same thing. I thank my God for
my acquaintance with you, and for the long life with which my
heavenly Father has favored you, and pray that your sun may grow
brighter and broader at its setting, and bring a pleasing day in
glory.

SAMUEL PETTIT.

P. S.—If you ever feel like writing me a line I should be very
happy to receive it. You will remember that I met you about ten
years ago at your friend’s below Dayton, where we spent two or
three days together. I may write to you some day again, if I know
your post-office.

S. P.

LETTER FROM AARON WOOD.

WILLIAMSPORT, IND., _June 4, 1875_.

A. J. PALMER, JERSEY CITY, N. J.:—

DEAR SIR: Please read the following at your meeting on the 8th,
as my congratulating contribution for the occasion. In 1811
Asbury and Boehm came to my father’s, in the State of Ohio.
(See “Asbury’s Journal,” vol. iii, page 317.) I was then nine
years old, and received from the bishop a catechism. Boehm
will remember the visit. But there is a fact that I give of
importance, learned from my mother. Her maiden name was Mary Con,
of York, Pa., and when a child, under the preaching and teaching
of Martin Boehm gave her heart to her Saviour. I am the oldest of
five sons of that mother, and am now seventy-three, and in the
fifty-third year of my itinerancy. I have met H. Boehm in New
York, in Xenia, and Philadelphia, and he will remember

Yours, respectfully,

AARON WOOD.

_Reflections on the extent of personal influence_:—

1. Martin Boehm, the Mennonite from Germany.

2. Mary Con Wood, the Methodist mother of preachers.

3. A. Wood, a young preacher in Indiana, preaching in a cabin in
Knox County.

4. Isaac Owen, brought to Christ, and made missionary to
California.

And who knows but four more would reach around the world? If God
leaves me here in this sound body twenty-seven years more, I may
learn the names of persons who, from Owen in China, and so on
around to Bohemia or Bulgaria, carried the same Gospel which has
saved me. Glory be to God! Amen.

A. W.

A communication from Dwight Williams, of Cazenovia, N. Y., inclosed the following letters from Father Boehm and Bishop Asbury to Rev. Robert Birch, a member of the East Genesee Conference at the time of his death, which occurred about twenty-two years ago. Both letters were originally written upon the same sheet of paper.

FATHER BOEHM’S LETTER.

CAMDEN, S. C., _Dec. 23, 1811_.

MY VERY DEAR BROTHER: I received yours a few days ago, and was
made glad with its contents, particularly on finding that you
enjoyed good health of body, and, above all, are warring a good
warfare. It is so: great and good men may sometimes be at least
the accidental cause of leading us into inexpedient steps, and
if such a step or steps should be of such a nature and relation
that we cannot step backward for life, it behooves us to consider
well, especially as itinerant ministers of the ever blessed
Gospel of Jesus Christ. The rewards of grace and glory are
suspended on self-denial and taking up the cross. But, my dear
brother, how liable we are to lose sight of the spiritual prize!
for it must be received by faith. My mind is satisfied that
nothing can reconcile a young man to move on as though he cared
for nothing of a temporal or domestic nature but the power of
grace, and the perpetual exercise of the same.

No doubt you would be glad to hear some account of our tour.
We traveled extensively through the State of Ohio previous to
the Western Conference, at which we had a good time, both in
conference and in the congregations. Some conversions. Things
were very promising as to the perpetuation of peace, order, and
discipline among preachers and people. Upward of three thousand
increase. One hundred and one preachers stationed. From there
we traveled rapidly to the west of Georgia, over into the New
Purchase, down to Savannah, back to Augusta, Columbia, to this
town—upward of eleven hundred miles since we left Cincinnati.

There has been a gracious work of God, in many parts, within the
bounds of this conference. The increase, in all probability, will
be considerable. It would do you good to see the peace, order,
and love which appear to be prominent features of this conference.

My health is as usual, and I have reason to believe that my soul
is advancing in humility and love. O, why is not my whole soul
swallowed up in the goodness of God! May the great Head of the
Church be your wisdom, comfort, and strength! Father Asbury has
lately been considerably afflicted with a rheumatic touch in one
of his knees, but is at present nearly well.

I am, dear brother, yours, etc.,

H. BOEHM.

BISHOP ASBURY’S LETTER.

CAMDEN, S. C., _Dec. 23, 1811_.

MY DEAR SON: O what graces and grace we need to conduct ourselves
as sons of God, without rebuke! Great grace we need to guide men
of murmuring minds, and called, justified, sanctified, ministers
of Jesus. This year with us is begun in the West and Southern
conferences. The day of God, the day of glory, is begun. Near
seven thousand added this year, besides the numbers triumphantly
gone to join the Church above. Thus the wastage is more filled
up. These two conferences would be a great field for the poor
supernumerary superintendent, but we must wander through the new
world.

We have recommended the first Friday in May as a day of
humiliation and fasting, that if we must have some radical
changes, (as some say,) and the transfer of some of the
appointing power to the principal officers in our Church
government, the change may be of God, and not of men, who have
partially for years been their own bishops. Pray; watch; flee
youthful desires; follow after every grace.

Yours, etc.,

FRANCIS ASBURY.

TESTIMONIAL TO FATHER BOEHM.

Rev. John S. Porter, D.D., then came forward, and turning to the patriarch, said:—

I have great pleasure, Father Boehm, to meet you again in the
presence of this large assembly. I suppose there is no person
present, perhaps, who has so continuous a recollection of you for
so long a term of years as myself. I do not recollect the time,
but I doubt not you do, when in my infancy, at the request of my
now departed and sainted parents, you baptized me in the name of
the Holy Trinity. When you came to the Delaware District, which,
I think, was in 1820—’19 or ’20—

FATHER BOEHM—Thereabouts.

DR. PORTER—I was then a member of the Church, a lad about or
nearly fifteen years of age, and I recollect it was you who gave
me the first book I ever felt sufficient interest in to read
from the beginning to the end. I suppose that book of religious
letters is now out of print, but I recollect my heart was warmed
in reading those letters directed to Bishop Asbury, I think
chiefly from laborers in different parts of the field. From that
time it has been my privilege to know your personal history as
to age and service in the ministry of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, and I think what Bishop Asbury said when he was called
upon to say whether there was any thing against Henry Boehm, may
well have been said from year to year from that time till now.
God be praised, by whose grace you have been thus preserved!

Your brethren, sir, desire to present to you some substantial
token of their respect for you, their interest in you, and their
affection for you in the evening of your life; and although it
was not so determined by the Newark Conference, yet the Newark
Conference was pleased to appoint a committee to take this matter
in charge—the celebration of your centennial—and they have been
pleased to issue circulars and to obtain from different quarters
something of what Kossuth, I believe, used to call “material
aid.” I have something from those who love you to present to you
on this occasion, and I am happy to say that one hundred and
fifty dollars of this subscription comes from the Philadelphia
brethren. I was present at their preachers’ meeting, and when
I told them we were going to celebrate your centennial, and
suggested that they take the matter in hand, (for I thought
they would consider it a privilege to participate in this
celebration,) they very cordially appointed a committee of three
to represent them here, and they also have collected that amount
of money, and those three brethren—Brothers Todd, Chaplain, and
Robinson, together with Brother Fernley, have come here to show
their interest in this matter.

It is not possible for us to say, Father Boehm, how much the
amount of this testimonial will yet be. I have just been told,
however, that a friend will make it up to the sum of five hundred
dollars, and I have no doubt there are other friends who desire
to add to it, and I hope it will not stop at that figure. I know
that other friends will be glad, when the subject is presented
to them, to participate in the movement. I hope, so far as the
“material aid” is concerned, that it may be of comfort to you—not
that the sum is so considerable, but that you cannot, I know
you cannot, but feel in your heart to rejoice that God raises
up these friends for you. With this substantial token of our
regard for you [handing Father Boehm a purse] I close my remarks,
rejoicing that it is my privilege to sit at your feet, and hoping
to join you in the heavenly land.

Father Boehm was asked if he desired to reply in person, and he said that instead of speaking himself he had selected Professor Buttz to represent him.

Rev. Henry A. Buttz, A. M., who then appeared in a double representative capacity—being called upon to speak for Father Boehm and also for the young men of the Newark Conference—spoke as follows:—

ADDRESS OF PROF. HENRY A. BUTTZ.

DR. PORTER: Little did Father Boehm suppose, when he took you
in his arms and baptized you in the name of the Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost, that you would greet him on the one hundredth
anniversary of his birth with this token of the appreciation of
his younger brethren.

I am requested by Father Boehm to return through you, to all who
have taken part in this occasion, whether from the Philadelphia,
New York, or other conferences, and particularly to the members
of the Newark Conference, with which he has been connected during
these later years of his life, his thanks for this renewed
testimonial of affection.

All these brethren have a warm place in his heart. He looks upon
them not as his brethren only, but with all the tenderness with
which a father looks upon his sons, and with a heart whose warmth
a hundred years have not chilled he returns you his gratitude. He
receives this gift for the evidence it gives of your confidence
and esteem.

Father Boehm gives thanks to God to-day that although he has been
preaching the Gospel since the year 1800 with an average salary
of less than two hundred dollars a year, and in many instances he
has given that to the Church of Christ, yet now, standing at the
end of a century, he can confirm by experience the truth of the
Divine promise to the righteous: “Trust in the Lord, and do good;
so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.”
For one hundred years he has not wanted any good thing. Loving
hearts have cared for him, and gentle hands have ministered to
him, through all these years until this hour. If it were proper,
it would be the wish of Father Boehm that I should express on
this occasion, to those of his own immediate circle who have
cared for him so long, his high appreciation of their love, or,
to use his own words, they have been to him “better than good.”
But this is a sacred precinct within which I dare not intrude.
Let it suffice to say, that although for many years he has had no
son of his own, Providence has so arranged that he has not felt
the lack, and he has not wanted for the loving attentions either
of son or daughter.

It is well known to those intimate with Father Boehm that he has
always had a deep interest in young men, especially in young
ministers. In the true spirit of the fathers he has hailed with
joy every institution which proposed their improvement. It is
his desire that when he can no longer preach the Gospel himself,
he may preach it through others, so that he may still speak for
Christ on earth when he has passed to heaven. I am commissioned
by Father Boehm to say, also, that he gratefully receives this
gift of his brethren; that he will deposit it where it may be at
hand in case of need; and hoping, as he does, that he may never
need it, having always had his wants supplied in the past, it is
his purpose in that event, and also that of those most intimately
connected with him, that this shall be employed as a fund to
aid young men in preparing for the ministry in Drew Theological
Seminary.

Again, in Father Boehm’s behalf, I thank you, and give to you,
in his name, his centennial blessing, in the language of the
patriarch Jacob to his son Joseph: “God, before whom my fathers
Abraham and Isaac did walk, the God which fed me all my life long
unto this day, the Angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless
the lads; and let my name be named on them, and the name of my
fathers Abraham and Isaac; and let them grow into a multitude in
the midst of the earth.”

But, venerable father, I have another mission besides the one
with which you have so kindly honored me. The purse is but an
incident in the exercises of this occasion. We are here also to
greet you on this the one hundredth anniversary of your birth, to
assure you of our love and confidence, to pray unitedly for the
continuance of your health and strength, and to hear from your
lips such words as you may choose to speak, and to receive your
blessing. I am asked to extend to you, on this your centennial
anniversary, the cordial salutations of the younger members of
the Newark Conference. I despair of being able in any adequate
sense to represent them. Their voices are so many, and their
sympathies with this occasion are so deep, that I can scarcely
attempt, much less hope to accomplish, such a task. Whatever the
difference in the respective ages of those who are gathered here,
we are alike in this, that by the side of you, Father Boehm,
we are all young men to-day. I seem to myself like a sapling
addressing an oak that has withstood the storms of a century;
like a child, scarcely able to speak, addressing an ancestor
whose life began so long ago as to make his history bear, almost,
the aspect of mythology.

We congratulate you on having lived to be one hundred years
old; an age to which we young men can scarcely hope to attain.
I say hope to attain, for we do not depreciate the grandeur and
glory of old age, especially when, like yours, it is found in
the way of righteousness. I have been informed that there is a
statistician in England who denies that men live to be so old. If
he were here to-day we would point him to you, and show that in
America it does occur. You have lived one hundred years—twelve
hundred months—thirty-six thousand four hundred days—eight
hundred and seventy-six thousand hours, and minutes almost
innumerable. But time is rightly measured not so much by the
minutes on the dial, as by the work achieved and the events that
have transpired. It has been well said that many of the greatest
events of modern times have taken place during your life. Your
centennial comes in the midst of American centennials, and no
history of our country will be complete without your name.

It is not merely to the hundred years that you have lived that
we pay our tribute to-day, but to the fact that you have lived
them so well. We pay our homage to a century of character—to the
Christian virtues which have adorned your active life—a century
in which, neither by word or deed, have you brought a stain upon
the Church with which you have been identified, or upon the
Christ whose Gospel you have proclaimed.

On the 31st of August, 1799, Bishop Asbury wrote in his
journal: “I had a comfortable time at Boehm’s Church.... Martin
Boehm is upon wings and springs since the Lord has blessed
his grandchildren. His son Henry is greatly led out in public
exercises.” This was the bishop’s earliest public testimonial to
your Christian character.

In the year 1809, in the Philadelphia Conference, after you
had been Bishop Asbury’s traveling companion for one year, the
question was asked, “Is there any thing against Henry Boehm?”
and the bishop gravely answered, “Nothing against Brother
Boehm.” Again, in 1813, after five years’ traveling with him,
the bishop returned the same answer to the same question, and
added, referring to you, “For five years he has been my constant
companion. He served me as a son; he served me as a brother; he
served me as a servant; he served me as a slave.” At the last
session of the Newark Conference, in your hundredth year, the
same question was asked, and the answer was, “Nothing against
Father Boehm.”

I am sure, sir, if you should live a hundred years more the same
answer would be given. And when, at last, you shall be called
to enter the better world, the answer will still be, “Nothing
against Henry Boehm;” not because of any merit of your own,
but because you have been washed in the blood of the Lamb, and
because you have “fought the good fight, you have finished your
course, you have kept the faith.”

I have wondered that art has never paid that tribute to age to
which it is entitled. Art has embalmed the human frame in its
grandest physical vigor, and it fairly revels in the flowers
of youthful beauty. Even the muscles of Hercules have been
preserved by the sculptor’s chisel or the painter’s brush,
but so far as my own observation has gone, (and I confess it
has not been extensive,) I have seen but little of art in the
embalmment of the proportions of old men. But the men whom the
world would recall from the past in hours of conflict are not the
physically strong, but the ripe, intellectually noble old men.
It is not Hercules, but Nestor. You remember that the greatest
of epics written by the greatest of poets opens with a quarrel
between Agamemnon and Achilles, the rival Grecian chieftains,
in the midst of which an old man, Nestor by name, who had lived
through two generations, and was now ruling over the third, and
whose words are described as “sweeter than honey,” arose and
demanded a hearing by the rival chiefs by declaring his age and
contemporaries:—

“In times past
I lived with men—and they despised me not—
Abler in counsel, greater than yourselves;
Such men I never saw, and ne’er shall see....
The mightiest they among the sons of men:
The mightiest they, and of the forest beasts
Strove with the mightiest, and their rage subdued.
With them I played my part; with them, not one
Would dare to fight, of mortals now on earth.
Yet they my counsels heard, my voice obeyed;
And hear ye also—for my words are wise.”

And it is of the old man, and not of the warrior, that the poet
adds:—

“O would the gods, in love to Greece, decree
But ten such sages as they grant in thee!”

You, sir, are older than Nestor of Homeric fame. Three
generations have fully passed while you have lived, and you
are now dwelling among the fourth. You have seen the seventh
generation in your own family. How much more should your words be
heard, and your portrait preserved! We take your portrait to-day,
not in verse, not in marble, not on canvas, but on the tablets of
our hearts, and we will preserve it there while life and memory
last, as an inspiration and joy.

We congratulate you, also, because you have lived in the heroic
age of the Church to which we belong. You have been an actor in
the great religious movements which led to the firm establishment
of our Church. You were born nine years after its introduction
into America; you have seen all our great institutions rise and
flourish: you have helped to fight the great battles of Methodism.

You have had great contemporaries, who will be more fully named
by others. It is a great thing to live in a great age with
great men, and to bear your part among them. Your history has
been almost identical with American Methodism. I had almost
said your history _is_ American Methodism. You have seen our
bishops ordained. You yourself were ordained by Whatcoat, who was
ordained by Wesley, and are in the true apostolic succession. You
have helped them in their work, you have smoothed their passage
to the tomb; you helped to lay Whatcoat in the grave.

On the 4th of July, 1815, you went home to visit your mother.
Bishop Asbury, referring to that visit, wrote in his journal:
“Happy at Mother Boehm’s. A pleasing Providence, according to my
wishes, had brought Henry in a few moments before.” After a two
days’ visit with him there in the old home, where he had been
a visitor for thirty years, and when, after his last episcopal
tour, he had bid your aged mother good-bye, you accompanied him
to Lancaster, when he embraced you in his arms, pressed you
to his bosom, gave you his last kiss and benediction, and you
gazed on him till he was lost from your view. The parting is not
forever. You shall see him again in the land where there are no
separations.

You can now look upon a Church whose missions encircle the
globe, founded not only on great institutions of benevolence and
learning, but on the foundation of the apostles and prophets,
Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone—a sure pledge
that her history and triumphs have but just begun.