Chapter XLVII (3)

I am reminded of all that, and of the simple effort and simple
prayer that took hold of the citadel of death and Satan, and
through the high and hidden things of the Gospel saved men by
leading them to Christ. In Father Boehm’s early and later days,
when persons would come to the altar to seek the Lord Jesus
Christ, and it was fashionable to kneel and to throw themselves
prostrate upon their faces, they would cry mightily to God and
struggle hard for his mercy, and earnest people gathered around
them with tears, and finally with songs of joy; and it was not
the fashion then to pass around the altar and say, “Sister, do
you feel any better?” “Brother, do you think you have found
peace?” No; that was not the way. The common way was to pray on
until the baptism of the Holy Ghost fell upon them, and without
prompting they declared what God had done for their souls. Now
there are some little points like that which I don’t think we can
improve upon—some points which, if we could retain them in all
our efforts to do good, would be better for the Church and the
world. The very kind of testimony that this venerable patriarch
and his compeers were in the habit of bearing to the world is
what still needs to be borne. We should never speak hesitatingly
upon the one great subject, “That God for Christ’s sake has
pardoned all my sins.” They called it heresy then, they call
it heresy now; but it was and it is a blessed truth that Jesus
Christ had then, as he has now, power on earth to forgive sins,
to change the heart, and make a man to know it.

And then that other doctrine which has not been referred to: it
was a doctrine of Methodism—I have heard this venerable servant
of God preach it, (for I have heard him preach many a time, heard
sweet and precious words from his lips,) the fire of the Holy
Ghost within him, the divine unction resting upon him, while he
would tell us of the power of Jesus Christ to cleanse from all
unrighteousness—it was a doctrine of Methodism that the blood
of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. And that precious truth
still lives, one of the most beautiful trees of God’s garden. The
religion of Jesus Christ found man dead, polluted, corrupted, and
that tree has so grown that to-day multitudes are plucking from
it the ripe and rich and luscious fruits of living Christianity.
All hail to that patriarch who, sitting in his tent door, watches
to see how the battle is going! All hail to his heart as it fills
to-day with the ancient fire, and flames with the ancient divine
patriotism!

I think there was something said about my closing these services.
I am very sorry Bishop Simpson is not here. We had hoped to
reach the climax of these services in the closing speech of the
excellent bishop. But following all the splendid oratory that
has thundered in your ears to-day, it is a difficult matter
for a small piece of artillery like me to do much on such an
occasion as the present. I do honestly feel, my brethren, that
I am in a very embarrassing position. Just look at it. Here is
a man (Dr. Foss) whom they almost made a bishop at the last
General Conference; here is a man (Dr. Todd) whom I found in the
mountains of Pennsylvania, and sent him on his way as worthy to
be one of the successors of this grand old patriarch; and here
is a distinguished Professor, (Prof. Buttz,) just fresh from
college, with his laurels thick upon him, a man beloved by every
one who knows him. That these brethren have spoken, and spoken so
well, only adds to my embarrassment.

As one of the brethren said, we are not here to cry, “My father,
my father, the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof!” O
no; we are not even where Joash was when he heard of Elisha’s
illness, and came down to weep over him and cry, “My father, my
father,” etc. But I will tell you where we are. You know it is
Christianity that sanctifies the soul, the baptism of love which
photographs the image of the Eternal upon the human affections,
and extracts the sting from death. Now it seems to me when Father
Boehm shall pass away there will not be any death in it. He has
been under the experience and power of this saving faith so long,
that every thing in that line comes as a matter of course, and
after a little while, when his days are numbered, it won’t be
dying, but going up in a chariot of fire into heaven. It has
seemed to me all the morning as though we were taking the last
three miles’ walk that Elijah and Elisha took after they got
over Jordan. You remember that last three miles’ walk, perhaps
the most delightful incident in the history of the prophet
Elijah. Perhaps we are taking that walk this morning—that last
three miles’ walk. You know Elijah had said—and perhaps we may
imagine Father Boehm saying the same this morning—“Tarry here,
I pray thee: while I go over Jordan,” and the answer was, “As
the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, I will not leave thee.”
No, Father Boehm, these hearts cling to you to-day with all the
ardor of youth, and they mean to cling to you until your spirit
shall ascend to be forever at rest with God the Saviour. These
last three miles—have they not been very pleasant to-day, my
brethren, as we talked over the old patriarch’s history, as we
talked over the glory that looms up in the future? Have we not
rejoiced in it? It has been glorious—this last three miles’ walk!
And it may be (though some of us may pass away before him, as the
sainted Wakeley went from this pulpit and from the company of his
brethren, so unexpectedly and so gloriously to his eternal rest)
that many here may receive what Elisha did, a double portion of
his spirit at the translation of our Elijah. “Ask,” said the
prophet, “what I shall do for thee before I be taken away from
thee.” I know Father Boehm’s heart would ask that question if he
knew the day of his departure was near at hand; and I know the
response of each heart here would be like that of Elisha, “Let a
double portion of thy spirit be upon me.” O God, give us a double
portion of the spirit of the fathers—their spirit of sacrifice,
their spirit of love, their spirit of simplicity, their spirit of
holy earnestness in the pursuit of knowledge, their spirit of
consecration to their blessed work; and that divine unction that
shall make every minister in our Church a power, and every member
of our Church a power, thus presenting the banded forces of our
Methodism moving on in one solid column against the hosts of this
wicked world! That is what we want. May God grant the speedy
dawning of that day!

Meanwhile, brothers and friends, the old bark is approaching
the haven; the hoary head crowned with glory proclaims the
beaming forth of the light of heaven; that venerable countenance
is illuminated to-day with a supernatural light; as the bark
approaches the haven he is striking his topmast and furling his
sails, and after a little while he will drop his anchor in the
waters that are never troubled, amid scenes and under skies that
are never overcast with clouds. The old pilgrim rests to-day
on the top of his staff. O, I am so thankful that a beautiful,
calm twilight is shining softly upon his soul as he approaches
“that bourne whence no traveler returns”—to that river which, as
Payson says, has become a rivulet to him, over which he shall
step at any moment when God shall permit! God grant that there
may be no shadow on Father Boehm’s life in this world, and if it
please God, that he may be permitted to remain among us longer
yet as a living example. For we have a century of history, of
ecclesiastical policy, and of preaching Christ with saving power,
all concentrated in this venerable old man, a monument that
stands firm amid passing years, and throws its light upon the
traveler to the world of spirits, and the home of the good and
the pure.

The quartet choir then sang the closing centennial hymn, written by Fanny Crosby:—

Eternal, ever-present Lord,
We lift our grateful hearts to thee,
In praise for what our ears have heard,
And what our eyes this moment see.

’Tis by thy providential care
That he, whose name we all revere,
Is with us in thy house of prayer,
And celebrates his hundredth year.

As thou on Israel’s tents of old
Didst bid the cloudy pillar shine,
To us, thy chosen, now unfold
Its light and majesty divine.

And as we leave this hallowed place
Thy benediction we implore
To him, our sire; O grant thy grace,
And keep us all for evermore.

We may not meet again as now;
But when a few more days have passed,
In thine own kingdom may we bow,
And each receive a crown at last.

It was announced that, by advice of his physician, Father Boehm would have to dispense with all congratulatory hand-shaking, a single exception, however, being made in favor of the mother of President Grant. The services were closed with the benediction, pronounced by Father Boehm.

EVENING RECEPTION.

From eight o’clock till ten, on the evening of the same day, the parlors of Father Boehm’s son-in-law and daughter, Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Emley, at 59 Wayne-street, Jersey City, were thronged with a goodly company of friends, who came to spend the last hours of the day with the venerable centenarian.

Among others, there were present Rev. Dr. J. S. Porter of Burlington, N. J.; Rev. Dr. D. W. Bartine and wife of Morristown; Rev. R. Vanhorne, Presiding Elder of the Jersey City District, and wife; Rev. John Atkinson, of the Trinity Church, and wife; Rev. J. L. G. M’Kown, of the Hedding Church, and wife and daughter; Rev. A. J. Palmer, of the Waverly Church, and wife; Mr. and Mrs. Dusenbury, Mr. and Mrs. J. O. Rouse, Mr. and Mrs. Hopping, Prof. Martin, David Taylor, Esq., H. N. Ege, Esq., S. Sterling, Esq., and Dr. Walter Haddon, Father Boehm’s physician.

They were most delightful hours, those two, and they will live long in the memory of the happy people present.

The “hero” of the hour was happy as his guests, and received their congratulations with thankfulness to God. His strength seemed remarkable, for he had participated in the prolonged services of the morning, yet seemed in no way weary till a late hour at night. After an hour’s conversation presentations were the order, and many beautiful mementos of the love of his friends were given to Father Boehm. The gift of his son-in-law was a magnificent marble clock. Several superb bouquets and baskets of flowers were presented to him by other friends. Dr. Porter, in behalf of his daughter, handed him a huge cake, elegantly frosted, and lettered “One Century,” saying that he (Dr. Porter) remembered that Father Boehm used to be fond of cake and cream when he was a visitor at his house many years ago. Then Dr. M’Kown, in a neat little speech, presented him with a picture, the “Rock of Ages,” from loving friends.

Perhaps the most unique souvenir of all was a chest of tea, containing four choice kinds of that commodity, and bearing in printed letters the inscription, “Father Boehm’s Centennial Tea,” which had been sent all the way from China as a present by Rev. S. L. Baldwin. Rev. A. J. Palmer read a letter from Brother Baldwin, which accompanied the tea, in which the writer expressed his pleasure in having been united for years with Father Boehm in conference relations, (both are members of the Newark Conference,) his congratulations, and his gratitude to God for the long and pure life with which the venerable Father had been blessed. This token of love from the other side of the world was highly appreciated, and a “drawing” of the tea was presented to each of the guests of the hour.

One year before that evening Dr. J. B. Wakeley had presented Father Boehm with a picture of Bishop Asbury, since which time the giver, who was a dear friend of the recipient, has “fallen asleep in Jesus.” So, with great fitness, Rev. J. Atkinson presented Father Boehm with an elegant portrait of Dr. Wakeley, which was received in silence, but with appreciation.

Thus with presents and congratulations the evening passed. When it was ten o’clock Father Boehm rose, and in a clear, full voice, sang a little German song which he had learned ninety-five years before from his German teacher, a Hessian soldier, whom Washington captured at Trenton. Then, last of all, when the hour of parting came, the venerable man of God pronounced the benediction upon the company ere they separated.

Thus ended the exercises, public and private, on the one hundredth anniversary of the birthday of the Rev. Henry Boehm.

The words oftenest upon his lips throughout the day were echoed by all, “The Lord be praised!”