15 Jun 1880 A.D. Old Princetonian and Pastor of Tenth Presbyterian Church--Henry Augustus Boardman (9 Jan 1808-15 Jun 1880). Friend of Prof. Charles Hodge.
Before saying anything further, we post “For All the
Saints” in memorial to this Old School Churchman. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQcTn_oEuxU
Hodge, A.A. “Address at the
Funeral of the Rev. Henry Augustus Boardman, D.D.” Internet Archive. 21 Jun
1880. https://archive.org/stream/addressatfuneral00hodg/addressatfuneral00hodg_djvu.txt. Accessed 9
May 2014.
ADDRESS AT THE FUNERAL OF THE Rev. Henry Augustus Boardman, D. D.
BY THE Rev. Prof. A. A. Hodge, D. D.
JUNE 21, 1880.
Funeral Address.
THE sorrow which fills all our hearts to-day has not its ground in
a mere sentiment. We weep not merely because our affections are wounded, and
the tender and sacred associations of the past abruptly severed, or simply that
one of the noble monuments of the good old times is removed from its place. But
we have all in various ways experienced a terrible positive loss. Although our
Father and Friend had lived well beyond the appointed period of human life, and
had completed a well-rounded life-work, he had never for one moment ceased to
be a positive beneficent power in the present, and we had fondly hoped that he
would continue to be so in the near future also. No class of men in the entire
community are fulfilling a more important function for the general good than
the venerable Fathers in the beautiful Autumn of their days, enriched with all
the wisdom which comes from a sanctified experience, armed with the sources of
influence which have accumulated through all the years of a well spent past,
and transfigured like the setting sun, with the glories of the heavenly world.
This throne of beneficent power was, in a singularly perfect
manner, occupied by our deceased Father and Friend. The pre-eminent
gracefulness which had characterized even his early and middle life, adorned
his old age to an unparalleled degree. Although his body was feeble, it yet
bore no marks of extreme age, and although he lacked the vigor of his prime,
his powers of expression, whether by pen or speech, had by no means sensibly
declined, and his intellect and all the lively forces of his soul were even
more luminous than ever. He maintained un-severed all his old relations to the congregation,
the Theological Seminary, and the church at large. In several of these spheres he was as active, and was as busily transacting important
and delicate trusts, and was as much the object of general respect and
confidence, as in any former period of his life. He filled a very large and
important place in the present, and it is no disrespect to others to say that
in no one of these trusts is there a man living who can adequately take the
place rendered vacant by his death, how much less then is there anyone who can take his place, and fill as he filled, to the
satisfaction and advantage of all, the whole circle of trusts which depended
upon him. We therefore have reason, this day, to be filled with sorrow,
because we have lost so much, and because, out of God, our loss is absolutely
irreparable.
This is the plain matter of fact, and if through impatience with
pain we strive to disguise it, or represent it to ourselves in another light,
we shall shut out from our eyes the lesson intended by the providence, and so
cut ourselves off from the compensating blessings it may possibly bring to us
in the end. When God smites us he always intends that we shall feel the sting
of the blow, and even the lingering heart-breaking ache of the irreparable
loss. It is a fact, God has intentionally caused it to be a fact, that this
family has lost its Father, and in all its future history his place will remain unfilled — this congregation has lost the great preacher
whose long pastorate will always mark the heroic age of its history — the
Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia has lost its most illustrious member, its
venerable head and ornament. The Presbyterian Family of Churches in the United
States have lost their most admirably qualified Chairman and spokesman to
represent them before the assembled Presbyterians of the World in the General
Presbyterian Council to be held in this City in the Autumn of this year, and
Princeton Theological Seminary has lost its wise counselor, its influential and
untiring friend. The Lord has stricken us to the heart with his own hand. Let
us not shrink from feeling all its crushing pain that his
purpose in wounding us may be fully realized. It is God's
wonderful prerogative to bring good out of evil, and gain out of loss, but the
evil and loss remain always what they are in themselves.
But while we ought to recognize the fact that we have met with a
great disaster, it is nevertheless our privilege to sorrow after a Godly sort.
The same God who made our friend, and who endowed him so plenteously with the
adornments of grace and the
offices of beneficent service, and who bv His grace and providence
has supported and directed him in his past usefulness has now removed him. This
family, this congregation, this great Presbyterian denomination, our Princeton
school of the Prophets are dearer to the Divine heart which has inflicted this
blow, than they are to us. We are not only to submit to the inevitable, but to
kiss the rod in the assurance of the infallible wisdom and unselfish love which
have directed it and given it its piercing sting. As the Romanistic believer
interposes the crucifix and the ritual between his faith and Christ, and
passionately clings to that system which professes to make divine realties
matters of sight, so we Protestants, who share the same nature, put these
beautiful old saints, glorified in the light of their closing day, between us
and Christ, and cling to them as to that which makes Him and His saving power
visible and tangible to us. We cannot bear to be driven out from the shelter of
our accustomed prophets and apostles. But when God removes them one by one from
our sight, we have no choice, we are under the necessity of walking by faith,
alone with the invisible God. It is very hard at first. We must go with our
church despoiled of its heads and ornaments ; we must grope our way without the
living voices of our old teachers and guides; we must work our own way to death without the
cheering presence of the old saints. But doubtless it will be better in the
end. Death is a step upward to a higher grade. Our old Father, and Pastor and
Friend has been promoted, and his promotion has lifted us all up a step higher
with himself. And now and always hereafter, we shall have another reason for
looking beyond all created help directly to God, and for cultivating that
spiritual sense which independently of all symbols, and of all created media,
opens the soul direcdy to the life and radiance of the heavenly world. His life
was full of fruitful labors, as well as of distinguished honors, the wonderful
story of which will hereafter be given to you by a competent hand. The whole
will be appreciated as more wonderful because of the pathetic fact that his
work was accomplished under the condition of constant physical feebleness, and
of frequent and protracted interruption because of severe illness.
The foundation for this was laid in a severe attack of sickness
contracted on a necessary visit to the North only two weeks after his
installation. This led to suspension of his ministry for several weeks, or
months together. In 1847 he was for a year absent in Europe, and in later years
these absences were more frequent. He has found refuge at the sea-shore, and in
the invigorating climates of the North-west. These frequent relapses exhausted
gradually the resources of an originally fine constitution, and left him at the
last exceedingly feeble and liable to be prostrated by comparatively slight
attacks of acute disease.
This long continued dispensation of pain and weakness with the
blessing of divine grace contributed to perfect and to add new and higher
excellences to the graces of nature. His Christian faith, and love, and hope
bloomed years ago in singular beauty and fragrance, but in more recent years
they have ripened to a perfection altogether heavenly. He waited for his
change, his face shining with the slanting rays of the rising sun of an eternal day. Meanwhile he sought to labor while
the earthly day lasted, On the middle day of the week preceding his translation
he wrote with great tenderness to a special friend, of a matter which it was
very near to his heart to accomplish for the Church of God, in which letter
with almost the spirit of prophecy, he alludes not only to this as being the
last service he might render to the church, but also to the fact that but what
time was left to him to accomplish any earthly work. In the end he suffered
physical pain, but no apprehension of immediate death. His Heavenly Father
ordered the manner of his departure with infinite tenderness. He slept in peace
to awake in glory.
His almost peerless sweetness and loveliness in the social circle
a large band of friends as well as his own children will never forget, nor
allow to be forgotten in the next generation. His beautiful face was
transparent to the radiations of a beautiful soul. His
overflowing love, his quick and wide sympathy, his bright and
inexhaustible humor, and his ready wit, and clear intelligence and perfect
refinement made him a most delightful companion, and connected with his
unswerving loyalty made him an inexpressibly preciousfriend.
I stand here today because I am the son of his life-long friend in
Princeton. He addressed to my Father the exquisitely beautiful salutation, in
the name of the Board of Directors, on the semi-centennial anniversary of his
Professorship. On his eightieth birthday, Dr. Boardman signaled the event in
the "Presbyterian" without signing his name. To this the older friend
responded in a letter as yet unprinted: —
Princeton, Jan. 15, 1878.
My Dear Doctor: —
If you were in one room and Adelina Patti singing in another, the
doors being opened, you would not need to ask who it was. So when I read the
article in the last "Presbyterian” I was at no loss as to its author, I know only
one man who has the goodness, the skill, the delicacy and refinement which it
manifests, I would be a churlish if I were not grateful for such a tribute.
We are looking forward to the pleasure of seeing you next week.
Your affectionate Friend,
CHARLES HODGE.
When our Father died his sons immediately applied to his friend to
deliver the funeral address, and afterwards to write his permanent memoir. He
was prevented only by the weakness of the flesh. And now alas it is left to me
with my unskillful fingers to attempt to weave a chaplet for both their brows.
They are together now, and have taken their places with the immortals : —
We know not
What holy joys are there,
What radiancy of glory
What light beyond compare.
There is the throne of David,
And there from care released.
The song of them that triumph,
The shout of them that feast.
And they who with their Leader
Have conquered in the fight,
Forever and forever, are clad in robes of light.
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