LIBRARY 
 
 OK THK 
 AT 
 
 PRlxlfCETO.^, X. J. 
 
 UUXAI'ION OF 
 
 SAMUKL AONKW, 
 
 C, ^ ^ •■• t' H H 1 1. A 1.1 K L P H 1 \ . I- A . 
 
 No. ^ 
 
 BX 6495 .C58 A7 1855 
 Armitage, Thomas, 1819-1896 
 The funeral sermon on the 
 death of Rev. Spencer 
 
THE 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 REY. SPENCER HOUGHTON CONE, D.D. 
 
.>'*»>- . 
 
 . iiviK J)aq it/lsMri'nce- 
 
THE 
 
 FUNERAL SERMON 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 REV. SPENCER HOUGHTON CONE, D.D. 
 
 5 x'.a/,, 
 
 LATE PASTOR OF THE EIRST BAPTIST CHURCH, 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 PREACHED BY THE 
 
 REY. THOMAS ARMITAGE, D.D. 
 
 SUNDAY AFTERNOON, SEPT. 16, 1855. 
 
 Published by request of the Church 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 HOLMAN & GRAY, PRINTERS AND STEREOTYPERS. 
 
 1855. 
 
New York, September 19, 1855. 
 
 The First Baptist Church., Neio York, 
 To Eev. Thomas Armitage, D.D. 
 
 Dear Brother: — At a meeting of the Members of the First Baptist Church, 
 held last evening, the following resolution was unanimously adopted : — 
 
 " J?e«o?refZ. That the thanks of the First Baptist Church are hereby tendered 
 to all the ministering bretlu-en who took part in the funeral services of our late 
 beloved Pastor, and that the Funeral Sermon delivered by Eev. Dr. Ai'mitage 
 be respectfully requested for publication and record, under the charge of the 
 Clerk of this Church. 
 
 Pennit me to express the hope that you will comply with the request of our 
 sorrowing Church, and believe me to be, with great esteem, 
 
 Tours in the love of the truth, 
 SYLVESTER PIEE, 
 Clerk of the First Baptist Church, Neic York. 
 
 New York, September 19, 1855 
 
 Sylvester Pier, Esq., Clerk of the } 
 Fii-st Baptist Church, New York. 5 
 
 Dear Sir: — ^Your communication of to-day is received, forwarding the reso- 
 lution of the First Church, requesting a copy of the sermon preached on the life 
 and character of Dr. Cone. It affords me much pleasure to comply with the 
 request of the Church, and I sincerely hope that this discourse may minister in 
 part, at least, to the comfort of the large body who have so long enjoyed his 
 ministry, and now mourn his loss. 
 
 Yours, affectionately, 
 
 THOMAS AEMITAGE. 
 
FUNERAL OF REV. S. H. CONE, D.D. 
 
 Eev. S. H. Coxe, D. D., the Pastor of the First Baptist Church, 
 No-w York, and President of the American Bible Union, died at 
 eight o'clock on Tuesday morning, August 28th, 1855, at his resi- 
 dence, 465 Broome street. Previous to his death, he had lingered for 
 eighteen days under the cifects of a stroke of paralysis which he had 
 received on the 10th day of the month. The intelligence of his 
 death spread rapidly through the city, and on the evening of the 28th 
 a very large number of the members of the Church came together, a 
 bereaved and mourning people. It was the time for the weekly lec- 
 ture of the beloved pastor and spiritual father of the Church. But 
 no lecture was given. All felt that their father was gone ; and 
 they sorrowed, because he was not there to lead the service, but 
 most of all, because they should see his face no more. Eev. Dr. 
 Devan led the exercises, and a number of aged members poured out 
 their souls in prayer to the God of all grace, thanking him that he 
 had given to them so faithful a pastor for so many years, and plead- 
 ing for the continuance of his grace. At the close of the services the 
 following preamble and resolutions were passed : 
 
 JVliereas, Our beloved Pastor has been summoned to his rest, 
 
 Resolved, That the deacons, with brethren T. T. Devan, Eli 
 Kelly, Ezra P. Davis, and Sylvester Pier, be a Committee to report 
 to the Church appropriate resolutions, to be recorded on our books. 
 
 In accordance with the arrangements made by the Committee for 
 
 the funeral services, a large number of the male members of the 
 
 Church, the Board of Managers and many of the Life Directors and 
 
 Life Members of the American Bible Union, assembled at the Bible 
 
 Kooms at one o'clock, P. M. 
 
VI 
 
 After a few remarks from Wm. H. Wyckoff, Esq., the Corre- 
 sponding Secretary, explaining the object of the meeting, Eev. T. 
 Armitage, D. D., Vice President, took the chair, and introduced 
 the solemn business of the occasion by a brief and impressive address, 
 when all bowed the knee before the Throne of Grace, and Rev. C. J. 
 Hopkins, Pastor of the Bethesda Baptist Church, led in prayer. 
 
 Brother W. D. Murphy proposed the following preamble and 
 resolution, which were cordially and unanimously adopted : 
 
 Whereas, It hath pleased God to take to himself our esteemed 
 Brother and President, Rev. Spencer H. Cone, D. D., and 
 
 Wliereas, The First Baptist Church, and the family of our deceased 
 brother, have concurred in arrangements for the funeral services and 
 invited this Board to unite with them ; therefore 
 
 Resolved, That we cordially unite in the arrangements made, and 
 that we appoint Brethren S. Baker, D. D., 0. B. Judd, LL. D., 
 Deacon Wm. Colgate, Eld. E. Parmly, and the Corresponding Secre- 
 tary, Wm. H. Wyckoff, a Committee to draw xip resolutions expres- 
 sive of our sentiments of affection and respect for our departed 
 President, and our sense of the loss which we have sustained in his 
 death, and to report the same at our next regular meeting. 
 
 The meeting then adjourned, and the brethren walked in procession 
 to Brother Cone's residence, where they met many ministers of dif- 
 ferent denominations, who had assembled to manifest their regard for 
 the deceased. 
 
 Prayer was offered at the house by Rev. Dr. B. M. Hill, Corre- 
 sponding Secretary of the American Baptist Home Mission Society. 
 
 The procession then formed at the door, and walked, following the 
 corpse, slowly to the meeting-house. 
 
 A silver plate on the coffin bore the following inscription : 
 
 SPENCER H. CONE. 
 
 Died August 28, 1855. 
 Aged 70 yeai's, 3 months and 29 days. 
 
 The bearers were William Hillman, Joseph W. Burden, W. D. 
 Murphy, S. Pier, AYm. Cooper, Wilson G. Hunt, Walter S. Mcin- 
 tosh, mid Eli Kelly, men who had sat under Brother Cone's ministry 
 for many years. Deacon Wm. Colgate, one of Brother Cone's ear- 
 liest friends in New York, had also been selected as a bearer, but 
 was not able to be present, being absent from the ■ city. 
 
Vll 
 
 Long before the appointed hour, the meeting-house was crowded 
 in every available part, and thousands went away fi'om the doors un- 
 able to force an entrance. Rev. Dr. T. T Devan conducted the 
 exercises, which were introduced by the reading of a hymn by Rev. 
 P. Church, D. D. ; scriptures read by Rev, 0. W. Briggs, and a prayer 
 offered by Rev. John Knox, D. D. Rev. Dr. I. Ferris, of the New 
 York University, read the second hymn, and Rev. E. L. Magoon, 
 D. D., Pastor of Oliver Street Church, of which Brother Cone was 
 pastor for eighteen years, delivered an appropriate funeral address, re- 
 ferring with great feeling to the character and labors of the deceased. 
 He took as the foundation of his discourse, "Thoushalt guide me 
 with thy counsel, and afterwards receive me to glory." Ps. Ixxiii. : 24. 
 
 Rev. C. Gr. Soniers, D. D., led in prayer. After the reading of 
 another hymn by Rev. A. D. Gillette, the benediction was pro- 
 nounced by Rev. S. H. Cox, D. D., who also made a few remarks 
 referring to his early acquaintance with the deceased, and his love 
 for him as a faithful man of God. 
 
 The audience then slowly retired from the house, passing in front 
 of the coffin, to view, for the last time, the features of their beloved 
 friend, brother, and pastor. 
 
 On Friday morning, August 31st, the remains of Dr. Cone were 
 borne by the family, accompanied by a few friends, to Schooley's 
 Mountain, New Jersey, and deposited in the burying ground of the 
 Pleasant Grove Church, an open cemetery, the place where, on the 
 15th of August, 1854, only a brief year ago, he had buried his wife. 
 It had been selected by them both, while living, as the place of their 
 final repose among the dead. 
 
 The exercises at the grave were brief. The Corresponding Secre- 
 tary of the American Bible Union made a few remarks, the bene- 
 diction was pronounced by Rev. C. A. Buckbee, and the little 
 company, consisting of members of Dr. Cone's family. Deacons 
 Wilham Hillman, John I. Smith, William H. Burger, Brethren 
 William D. Murphy, John B. Durbrow, Ezra P. Davis, William H. 
 Wyckoff, and C. A. Buckbee, Mr. J. C. Young, three affectionate 
 sisters in Christ, and a few others, retired to their homes, feeling 
 that they had given back to earth one of the best and noblest of God's 
 gifts to man. 
 
 The Funeral Sermon, which appears in the following pages, was 
 
Vlll 
 
 preached at the request of the Committee of the Church, by Rev. 
 Thomas Armitage, D. D., Pastor of the Norfolk Street Chm-ch, on 
 Sunday, Sept. 16, 1855, at three P. M. 
 
 The meeting-house, as on the occasion of the funeral services, 
 was crowded in every part, and many thousands went away from the 
 doors unable to gain an entrance. 
 
 A large number of ministers from the various churches wexe pres- 
 ent. The pulpit was occupied by Eev. Archibald Maclay, D. D., 
 Eev. J. W. Sarles, Eev. Stephen Eemington, Eev. C. A. Buckbee, 
 Eev. Samuel Ba,ker, D. D., and the preacher for the occasion, Eev. 
 Dr. Armitage, 
 
 The services were introduced by the choir singing the following 
 
 FUNERAL DIEGE. 
 
 Brother, thou art gone to rest ; 
 
 We Avill not weep for thee ; 
 For thou art now where oft on earth 
 
 Thy spirit longed to be. 
 
 Brother, thou art gone to rest ; 
 
 Thine is an earthly tomb ; 
 But Jesus summon'd thee away — 
 
 Thy Saviour called thee home. 
 
 Brother, thou art gone to rest ; 
 
 Thy toils and cares are o'er ; 
 And sorrow, pain, and suff'riug, now 
 
 Shall ne'er distress thee more. 
 
 Brother, thou art gone to rest ; 
 
 Thy sins are all forgiven. 
 And saints in light have welcom'd thee 
 
 To share the joys of heaven. 
 
 Brother, thou art gone to rest ; 
 
 And this shall bo our prayer : 
 That, when we reach our journey's end, 
 
 Thy glory we may share. 
 
 Eev. A. Maclay, D. D., read the following selections from the 
 Book of Job, as revised by the American Bible Union, it being the 
 
IX 
 
 first occasion on which the Word of God, as revised by the Union, 
 was read from the pulpit. 
 
 SCRIPTURE SELECTIONS 
 FROM THE BOOK OF JOB. 
 
 [revised version.] 
 
 There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job. This 
 man was perfect and upright, and one who feared God and shunned 
 evil. And he said : Naked came I forth from my mother's womb, 
 and naked shall I return thither. Jehovah gave, and Jehovah hath 
 taken away ; blessed be the name of Jehovah ! 
 
 Now it was the day, when the Sous of God came to present them- 
 selves before Jehovah ; and Satan also came among them, to present 
 himself before Jehovah. Then said Jehovah to Satan : From whence 
 comest thou? Satan answered Jehovah, and said: From roaming 
 over the earth, and from walking about upon it. Then said Jehovah 
 to Satan : Hast thou observed my servant Job, that there is none like 
 to him on the earth, a man perfect and upright, one that feareth God 
 and shunncth evil ? And still he holds fast his integrity, though thou 
 didst move me against him, to destroy him without cause. 
 
 Satan answered Jehovah, and said : Skin for skin ; and all that a 
 man hath will he give for his life. But, stretch forth now thy hand 
 and touch his bone and his flesh ; if he will not renounce thee to thy 
 face! And Jehovah said to Satan: Lo, he is in thy hand; only, 
 spare his life. 
 
 And Satan went out from the presence of Jehovah, and smote Job 
 Avith grievous ulcers, from the sole of his foot to his crown. And he 
 took a potsherd to scrape himself therewith, as ho sat among the ashes. 
 Then said his wife to him : Dost thou still hold fast thy integrity ? 
 Bless God, and die ! But Job said to her: Thou speakest as one of 
 the foolish women speaks. The good shall we receive from God, and 
 shall we not receive the evil ? In all this. Job sinned not with his 
 lips. 
 
 For now, I had lain down and should be at rest ; 
 
 I had slept, then would there be repose for me : 
 
 With kings, and counselors of the earth. 
 
 Who have built themselves ruins : 
 
 Or with princes, who had gold, 
 
 Who filled their houses with silver : 
 
 Or like a hidden, untimely-birth, I should not be ; 
 
 As infants that never see light. 
 
 Now a word was stealthily brought to me, 
 
 And my ear caught the whisper thereof. 
 
Tp tliouglits from visions of the niglit, 
 
 When deep sleep falls upon men ; 
 
 Fear came upon me, and trembling, 
 
 Wbicli made all my bones to shake. 
 
 Then a spirit passed before me : 
 
 The hair of my flesh rose up. 
 
 It stood still, but I could not discern its form ; 
 
 An image was before my eyes ; 
 
 There was silence ; and I heard a voice : — 
 
 Shall man be more just than God? 
 
 Shall a man be more pure than his Maker? 
 
 He breaks up the devices of the crafty, 
 
 That their hands shall not do the tiling purposed. 
 
 In six troubles, he will deliver thee ; 
 
 Yea in seven, there shall no evil befall thee. 
 
 My days are swifter than a rmmer ; 
 They are fled, and have seen no good. 
 They have passed by, like the reed-skiffs ; 
 As the eagle darts upon its prey. 
 
 Thy hands have fashioned me, and made me. 
 In every pai't ; and yet thou dost destroy me ! 
 Ecmember now, that thou hast formed me, as with clay; 
 And wilt thou bring me to dust again ? 
 And on such an one openest thou thine eyes. 
 And me dost thou bring into judgment with thee ? 
 Who can show a clean thing, out of the unclean ? 
 There is not one ! 
 If his days are determined. 
 If the number of his months is before thee ; 
 If thou hast set his bounds, that he cannot pass ; 
 Look away from him, that he may rest. 
 So that he may enjoy, as a hireling, his day. 
 
 For there is hope for the tree. 
 If it be cut down, that it will flourish again, 
 And that its sprout will not fail. 
 Though its root become old in the earth. 
 And its trunk die in the ground ; 
 Through the scent of water it will bud, 
 And put forth boughs like a sapling. 
 But man dies, and wastes away ; 
 Man, of woman born, 
 Is of few days and full of trouble. 
 Like a flower he goes forth, and is cut off; 
 He fleeth as the shadow, and abideth not. 
 Yea, man expires, and where is he ! 
 Waters fail from the pool. 
 And the stream decays and dries up : 
 So man lies down, and will not arise ; 
 
XI 
 
 Till the heavens are uo more, they will not awake, 
 Nor be roused from their sleep. 
 
 that thou wouldst hide me in the under-world, — 
 Woiildst conceal me till thy wrath is past, — 
 Wouldst appoint me a time, and remember me. 
 All the days of my warfare would I wait, 
 Until my change come. 
 
 If a man die, will he live again ? 
 Thou wilt call, and I will answer thee ; 
 Thou wilt yearn towards the work of thy hands. 
 There, the wicked cease from troubling. 
 And there, the weary are at rest. 
 The prisoners all are at ease. 
 
 Thou shalt come to the grave in hoary age, 
 
 As the sheaf is gathered in, in its season. 
 
 After the above, selections were read by Dr. Maclay ; Eev. Dr. 
 Samuel Baker led in prayer, commending all the afflicted ones, the 
 family, the Church, the Bible Union, the Missionary cause, to the 
 tender mercies of our Father in heaven. The following hymn was 
 then read by the Rev. J. W. Sarles, and sung by the choir. 
 
 HYMIsT. 
 
 Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims 
 
 For all the pious dead, 
 Sweet is the savor of their names, 
 
 And soft their sleeping bed. 
 
 They died in Jesus, and are bless'd ; 
 
 How kind their slumbers are : 
 From sufferings and from sins releas'd, 
 
 And freed from every snare. 
 
 Far from this world of toil and strife. 
 
 They're present with the Lord : 
 The labors of their mortal life 
 
 End in a large reward. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Armitage then px-eached the funeral sermon, at the con- 
 clusion of which, Dr. Maclay offered a brief and earnest prayer, the 
 hymn which appears on the closing page of this book was read by 
 Rev. Stephen Remington, and sung by the choir and congregation. 
 Brother Remington pronounced the benediction and the assembly 
 dispersed, bearing in their hearts the memory of a just man, whose 
 life and labors had been devoted to the welfare of his race and the 
 glory of God. 
 
o 
 
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 D 
 
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 O 
 
 D 
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 td 
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SERMOISr. 
 
 Job. v. : 26. — " Thou shah come to the grave in hoary age, 
 As the sheaf is gathered in, in its season. ^^ 
 
 [Revised Version of the American Bible Union.] 
 
 Any semblance of an apology for the selection of a 
 text from the revised version, on this interesting occa- 
 sion, V70uld be sadly out of place. For more than half a 
 century, the divine strains of this Poem have stirred the 
 bosom of him whose name and memory have summoned 
 this large assembly. It was one of his chief joys, in the 
 close of life, that he had lived to reap the first-fruits 
 of his toil, to purify its graceful figures of human 
 blemishes, and to banish those discords which jar its 
 flowing nmnbers in our common translation. In my last 
 interview with him, he freely expressed the conviction, 
 that for thoroughness, beauty, and fidelity, this version 
 of the Book of Job is unequaled by any other transla- 
 tion of the same Book in the world. From these and 
 other considerations, it is eminently fitting that its new 
 harmonies should be first invoked at his funeral solemni- 
 ties, and that its new radiance should first kiss the door 
 of his sepulchre. 
 
2 
 
 Surely, if anything be inappropriate on this occasion, 
 it is found in the fact, that the most responsible office of 
 this hour should be confided to one so much the junior 
 of him who was saluted in the streets by the children of 
 three generations. It is no light task to speak rightly 
 of one, whom God's power endowed with greatness so 
 rare, and his free grace with goodness so preeminent. 
 The consciousness that, among all our tribes, no other 
 Spencer H. Cone is left to die, and a sense of my own 
 utter incapacity to improve his death to the best advan- 
 tage, have greatly exercised my mind, together with the 
 thought, that there are so many abler and older servants 
 of Christ, who might have been called to this duty. 
 And yet, my brethren, I find it is not always easy to 
 reverence the misgivings of your judgment when your 
 heart leans the other way. Moreover, it is a delightful 
 thought, to my own mind, that the death of such a man, 
 speaks with a pathos, and sways a potency, w^hich 
 appeal to the heart with greater efficiency than any 
 utterance that can be commanded by the living. Grant 
 me, then, your candor, your prayers, and your patience, 
 while I attempt to meet the necessity which you have 
 laid upon me. Your patience will be as needful as your 
 candor. For it is no easy thing to crowd the transac- 
 tions of seventy years into one or two hours, with all the 
 interests and endearments that nature and grace, respon- 
 sibility and success, position and admiration, have thrown 
 around them. 
 
Beloved brethren : I know not how it is with you ; 
 but for myself, I confess to a feeling, much like that of 
 the soldier on the battle-field, who sees a warrior fall, 
 bleeding, and pale, and dying. But, anon, the soul of 
 the fallen kindles with new fire at the shout of the 
 battle, and half rising from his blood, "whether in the 
 body or out of the body I cannot tell," he seems as one 
 who forgets to die, that he may cheer on the soldiery to 
 the triumph. I feel as one who views here a newly 
 glorified spirit, passing before him among the " cloud 
 of witnesses." The vision is certain. "A spirit passes 
 before me. The hair of my flesh rises up. An image is 
 before my eyes, but I cannot discern its form." Nearly 
 three weeks have passed away, since the news flew from 
 one end of the continent to tiie other, that the venerable 
 warrior had fallen — for twenty days he has " changed 
 from glory into glory," with the ransomed throng which 
 "stands before the throne of God and the Lamb," and 
 yet, I can only realize him, as last seen, in the thick of 
 the contest. He was so with us, and so of us, and his 
 venerable form was so familiar to us, that we involun- 
 tarily look around for him among this body of his fellow- 
 Pastors, to-day. The hour of worship strikes — the gates 
 of the sanctuary are thrown open— the great congregation 
 pours forth its praises — and we think he must be here, — 
 here to raise his voice like a trumpet in one of the songs of 
 Zion — here to plead with the Good Shepherd for a bene- 
 diction on his flock — here to animate us by his precious 
 
expositions of God's holy Truth. His features are so 
 fresh in the memory, his voice was so welcome to the 
 ear, his figure so striking to the eye, and his ambassy so 
 precious to the soul, 
 
 " I cannot make him dead, 
 His wise and hoary head 
 Still lingers round this pulpit chair .'" 
 
 Well, my brethren, be it so; be it so. " The memory 
 of the just is blessed." Who of you would dissolve this 
 enchantment ? No. It diminishes the distance between 
 earth and heaven — it strengthens the grasp of faith on 
 eternal realities — ^it deepens the tone of hope for celes- 
 tial fellowship — it inflames the ardor of love, for the 
 full fruition of His presence in " whom the whole famil}- 
 in heaven and earth is named" — it makes us sing, with 
 new ecstacy, the exultant song of Peter ; "Whom having 
 not seen ye love ; in whom, though now ye see him not, 
 yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full 
 of glory ; receiving the end of your faith, even the salva- 
 tion of your souls." 
 
 But, my dear brethren, whether we are willing to 
 break the spell or not, its reality dies like the fading 
 rainbow, before the annunciation of the text. " Thou 
 shalt come to the grave in hoary age, as the sheaf is 
 gathered in, in its season." As, then, it is not given us, 
 to look within the vail after our brother, but God has 
 required us to " walk by faith and not by sight" — let us 
 follow his faith, content to know that, with him, " to be 
 
absent from the body" is "to be present with the Lord," 
 for " we are confident" that "whether present or absent," 
 he is " accepted of Him." 
 
 It is not my design, this afternoon, to preach what 
 would be denominated a methodical Gospel sermon. To 
 such labor, your departed pastor has devoted all the 
 energies of his body and mind, for the last forty years. 
 And now, one of the most profitable things left for us to 
 do, is to contemplate all the way in which the Lord has 
 led him — how he was set apart to the Lord from his 
 birth, by fervent and effectual parental prayer — how he 
 was brought out of the horrible pit, out of the miry 
 clay — how he was endowed with a high order of qualifi- 
 cations for the ministry — how God thrust him out into 
 the ministry, and crowned him with success, and counted 
 him faithful therein. We may stand and wonder, and 
 adore, and "glorify God" in him, as we see Jehovah's 
 sovereignty and grace magnified here. For they are fully 
 made known in his mental and moral characteristics — 
 his head, and heart, and walk; — in his "doctrine, manner 
 of life, purpose, faith, long suffering, love, patience, per- 
 secutions, afflictions" which came upon him ; and in the 
 manner in which the Lord delivered him out of them 
 all, and brought him to his "grave, in hoary age, as the 
 sheaf is gathered in, in its season." 
 
 For this end, I have prepared a brief sketch of Dr. 
 
 Cone's life, with some remarks thereupon ; "by his fruits 
 
 shall ye know" him. Men find it as impossible to gather 
 2 
 
grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles, now, as it was in the 
 days of the Saviour; a good tree bringeth forth good 
 fruit, and an evil tree evil fruit, still. 
 
 The narrative must of necessity be very brief, a mere 
 sketch, as I have said. And I regret this the less, 
 because you are already quite familiar with the principal 
 current of his life, and also because steps have been 
 taken by his beloved family to procure an extended and 
 authentic memoir, at an early day. 
 
 THE NAERATIVE. 
 
 Spencer Houghton Cone was born in Princeton, N. J., 
 on the 30th of April, 17S5. His ancestry, on his father's 
 side, can be traced to the first settlers of New England ; 
 and on his mother's side, to the first colonists of Virginia. 
 His father was a high-spirited and fearless man, remark- 
 able for his finished and gentlemanly manners, and his 
 stern republican principles. He fought with great 
 bravery in the Eevolutionary War. Dr. Cone's mother 
 was a woman of great personal beauty, vigorous intel- 
 lect, and indomitable moral energy. Both father and 
 mother were members of the Hopewell Baptist Church, 
 in Hunterdon Co., N. J. Their earnest and enlightened 
 piety was a subject upon which their son loved to dwell 
 to the last of his life. In a sermon which he delivered 
 from this pulpit, in 1S44, he says, "My mother was 
 baptized when I was a few months old, and soon after 
 her baptism, as I was sleeping in her lap, she was much 
 
drawn out in prayer for her babe, and supposed she 
 received an answer, with the assurance that the child 
 should live to preach tJie Gospel of Christ. This assurance 
 never left her; and it induced her to make the most 
 persevering efforts to send me to Princeton — a course, at 
 first, very much against my father's will. This she told 
 me after my conversion ; it had been a comfort to her in 
 the darkest hour of domestic trial; for she had never 
 doubted but that her hope would be sooner or later 
 fulfilled." It may be added here, that the Lord spared 
 her, not only to see her son converted, but also to be 
 greatly comforted under his ministry. 
 
 When Spencer was but eight years old, and while he 
 was spending a few months with his grandfather Hough- 
 ton, he accompanied him to an annual Baptist gathering, 
 known as the "Hopewell Great Meeting." Here he was 
 first awakened to see his lost condition as a sinner. A 
 sermon was preached on that memorable occasion by Mr. 
 James M'Glaughlin, from Jer. viii. : 22. Is there no balm in 
 Gilcad? is there no jphjsician there? "This sermon," he 
 says, " deeply affected me — it left upon my mind an 
 impression never eradicated — a system of theology never for- 
 gotten; viz., 1. Total depravity. 2. Universal condemna- 
 tion. 3. Salvation alone by the balm of Gilead — the 
 blood of the Lamb. I was so affected by this sermon, 
 that for months, I was afraid to go to sleep without say- 
 ing the Lord's prayer, as it is called, or some other little 
 form taught me by my mother. But the impression 
 
8 
 wore off, and left me thoughtless and playful as it found 
 
 me." 
 
 About two years after this, he accompanied his mother 
 to hear a sermon, from Dr. Ashbel Green, of Philadelphia. 
 Dr. Green preached very powerfully, from John i. : 29. 
 ^^ Behold the Lamh of God ivhich taJccth away the sin of the 
 rvo7id" His mind was again seized with distressing 
 convictions of his ruined condition as a sinner, of his 
 base ingratitude, and of the efficiency of the blood and 
 righteousness of Christ alone, to save him. For a time, 
 he strove again to do good, but strove in his own strength, 
 and evil, and only evil, was present with him; so that he 
 soon ceased to pray, and gave himself up again to folly. 
 
 At twelve years of age he entered Princeton College, 
 and at fourteen, was pursuing his studies with avidity, 
 when his father was unexpectedly taken away by death. 
 This distressing affliction "threw upon him the necessity 
 of retiring from college, that he might devote himself to 
 teaching, for his own support, and the support of his 
 mother, his brother, and three sisters. He spent seven 
 years as a teacher, in Princeton, Springfield, and Borden- 
 town, N. J., and in the Philadelphia Academy, Pa., which 
 was then under the supervision of Dr. Abercrumbie. 
 His favorite department was in the Latin and Greek lan- 
 guages, and, in the Bordentown Academy, he had the 
 entire charge of this department. 
 
 The next seven years he devoted to theatrical life ; 
 partly, from the assurance of his friends, that his talents 
 
were adapted peculiarly to the stage — and partly, that he 
 might secure a better support for the family. During 
 these seven years, his mind was frequently overwhelmed 
 with the fearful thought that he must be converted or 
 perish, " for which," he says, " I render thanks to the 
 God of all grace." His success on the stage exceeded 
 all his expectations, but his associations there were 
 offensive to his elevated morality and his love of domes- 
 tic sanctities, and, as he forcibly expresses it, "filled with 
 mortification and disgust, I resolved to abandon the stage 
 for ever. And I left a profession more calculated to 
 harden the heart, and put away from men the thoughts 
 of dying, than, perhaps, almost any other in the world." 
 In 1S13, Mr. Cone was married to Miss Sallie Wallace 
 Morrell, of Philadelphia. About the same time, he took 
 charge of the books and funds of " The Baltimore Ameri- 
 can.''^ Nearly a year he remained in this position, and 
 then united with Mr. John Norvell, of Ky., in the pur- 
 chase and conduct of " The Baltimore Wltigy They 
 devoted this paper to the defense of the doctrines and 
 measures of the Democratic school, as these were put 
 forth by Jefferson, and administered by Madison. The 
 pen, however, was not the only weapon he employed 
 for the maintenance of these principles. At the call of 
 his country he drew the sword, and marched forth to the 
 field of battle, under a commission from William Pinck- 
 ney, that he might vindicate them by service or sacrifice, 
 as necessity should demand. Under this commission, he 
 
10 
 
 entered Fort McHenry, and stood bravely at his post all 
 through the shower of shells which tore up the earth at 
 his feet, and tore his men to pieces at his side, during the 
 bombardment. And, under the same authority, he threw 
 himself into the hottest of the fight at Long-log-lane, 
 Bladensburg, and Baltimore. 
 
 While he was editing the " JJliig,^^ and before he 
 went to the field of battle, he was made a subject of 
 saving grace. His effectual calling to justifying grace in 
 Christ Jesus, was made manifest by an astonishing 
 and mysterious providence of God, which led him to a 
 book auction, where he purchased the works of that 
 brand plucked from the burning, John Newton. From 
 the time that he heard M'Glaughlin preach on the 
 "Balm of Gilead," his mind had never been at rest on 
 the subject of his salvation. By day and by night, God 
 called him to repentance. At one time, a frightful 
 dream would alarm him.^ At another, a powerful 
 sermon would arouse him. And at all times, he stood in 
 awe of his mother's prayers. While he was teaching in 
 Philadelphia, he accompanied his mother so regularly to 
 the house of God, not only on the Sabbath, but also on 
 week-day evenings, that Dr. Cox tells us, "his character 
 for morality, and for a domestic and holy afiection (I had 
 almost said) for his mother, and other relations, had won 
 for him a peculiar fame, even before he knew Christ." 
 At this time his mother was a member of the First Bap- 
 
 1 For Notes 1, 2, 3, and 4, see Appendix. 
 
11 
 
 tist Church, Philadelphia. For two years he accompanied 
 her to hear Dr. William Rogers, and afterward Dr. Wil- 
 liam Staughton, and although he was greatly delighted 
 with the eloquence of the latter, he says, "my mind was 
 unaffected by anything I heard." After he removed to 
 Baltimore, his soul became so immersed in war and poli- 
 tics, that, as he says, "he had scarcely heard a sermon 
 for a year," when " a voice like the sound of many 
 waters" made him shudder in the street as if an earth- 
 quake were rocking the city in its arms, by sounding in 
 his ears, the cry, " Tlds is your last warning.'''' He says, 
 he " trembled like an aspen leaf" — ^lie " felt himself to 
 be in the grasp of the Almighty" — and "thought his 
 hour of doom was come."^ For months afterward he 
 was almost disqualified for labor or rest. He read the 
 word of God, attended the sanctuary, and poured out 
 bitter groans and tears in prayer to God, until one night, 
 "when deep sleep had fallen upon men," the Holy 
 Spirit wonderfully revealed to him God's method of 
 saving sinners through Christ alone; "that as sin hath 
 reigned unto death, even so might grace reign through 
 righteousness, unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our 
 Lord." This great discovery once made to his soul, his 
 "heart seemed to melt." He "felt as if plunged in a 
 bath of blood Divine." He " was cleansed from head to 
 foot." "Guilt was taken away" — "tears of gratitude 
 gushed from his eyes" — he " fell on his face at the feet of 
 Jesus and gave thanks, and he was filled with " a peace of 
 
12 
 
 mind whicli passetli all understanding." I am liappy 
 to add, that in a conversation with Mr. WyckofF and 
 myself, about a month before his death, he declared, 
 that " from that hour, although forty years had passed 
 away, a doubt of his calling and election of God had 
 never crossed his mind !" 
 
 This evangelical conversion was soon followed by 
 apostolic baptism.^ For on the next Saturday morning, 
 Feb. 4, 1S14, he was immersed in the Patapsco, by 
 Elder Lewis Richards, although the ice w^as a foot thick 
 at the time. 
 
 Scarcely was he baptized, when he felt that he must 
 preach the Gospel, and many of his brethren urged 
 him to commence immediately. But he thought he 
 must first spend some years in preparatory study. He 
 soon found, however, that necessity was laid upon him, 
 and as " the Lord of the harvest" had put a sickle into 
 his hands, and the harvest was great, he must join the 
 laborers at once and begin to reap. In reaching this 
 decision, he had many a struggle with his own heart, 
 and above all, with Satan, "who threatened to stop 
 his mouth if he attempted to preach."^ But duty, and 
 "the worth of souls" were presented to his mind with 
 irresistible force, and straightway he left all to preach 
 " Jesus and the resurrection." 
 
 Li 1815 he was licensed to preach and ordained to 
 the work of the ministry, by the First Baptist Church 
 in Washington ; for, shortly after his conversion he 
 
13 
 
 had received an appointment in the United States 
 Treasury department, and had removed his church 
 membership from the First Church, Baltimore, to that 
 church. In December of the same year, he was elected 
 Chaplain to Congress. In March following, he was 
 invited to labor, for a year, with the Baptist Church 
 at Alexandria, Va. The church was very feeble, num- 
 bering but twenty-five members, three of them males, 
 and twenty-two females. The meeting at which this 
 invitation was extended numbered but seven persons, 
 and it is recorded to their praise, in the history of 
 Zion, that they were seven of the "honorable women" 
 in Israel. Another meeting was called in April, at 
 which seventeen persons were present. On this occa- 
 sion, Br. Cone was chosen pastor, fifteen voting foi" 
 him and two against him. In May he assumed the 
 duties of pastor, which duties he discharged for seven 
 years, and when he resigned his charge in 1823, the 
 church numbered three hundred and nine members; 
 so that two hundred and eighty-nine persons were 
 baptized or received by letter, under his ministry in 
 that church, and among these were many of the most 
 intelligent and influential persons in the community. 
 
 The first sermon which Br. Cone delivered in New 
 York, was founded on Song of Solomon viii. : 5. "Who 
 is this that cometh up from the wilderness lean- 
 ing upon her beloved?" This was in the year 
 1816. He was on a visit to the city, and occupied 
 
14 
 
 the pulpit of the Mulbeny Street Baptist Church a 
 part of the Sabbath. This, and other sermons which 
 he preached during his visit, left a deep impression; 
 and from that time, frequent attempts were made to 
 secure his services here permanently. These all failed, 
 until the year 1S23, when he accepted a call from 
 the Oliver Street Church. For two years, or there- 
 about, he labored as assistant to Rev. John Williams, 
 a very holy and able minister of the New Testament ; 
 and when his venerable colleague was called to his 
 rest, Br. Cone succeeded him in the entire pastoral 
 charge. This charge he held for sixteen years with 
 great honor and success, having baptized four hund- 
 red and forty-five believers into the fellowship of the 
 Church in that time. 
 
 By the unanimous voice of the First Church, he 
 became pastor of this flock in 1841. And I need only 
 point to the crowds who hung upon his ministry here, 
 and the fact that he baptized one hundred and sixty- 
 three believers into the fellowship of this church, to 
 attest the honor with which God sealed his labors in 
 this place. AVhile he was pastor of these two churches 
 in New York, he not only discharged the immense 
 service which the care of two such bodies demands, 
 but he performed an incredible amount of labor for the 
 Baptist denomination and the cause of Christ generally. 
 His zealous efforts in pleading for and serving the 
 cause of missions, and the Bible cause, could not be 
 
15 
 
 quenched by any discouragement, and were equaled 
 by few of his brethren. I think, indeed, it is not at all 
 doubtful, that he carried on a more extensive corre- 
 spondence with our Missionaries in all parts of the 
 world, and raised more money for benevolent purposes 
 generally, than any other pastor in the denomination. 
 During these two and thirty years and upwards, he 
 held the warmest place in the affections and esteem 
 of the churches, and commanded the respect of the 
 world generally. So great was the confidence of his 
 brethren, in his ability and purity, that for nine con- 
 secutive years he was elected President of the Baptist 
 Triennial Convention, which, at that time, w^as com- 
 posed of the Baptists of the whole United States. Even 
 then, they pressed him to continue longer in this service, 
 and had he consented, they would, doubtless, have 
 reelected him. But he magnanimously declined this 
 kindness, preferring to retire, that other brethren be- 
 loved might share w^ith him these expressions of fra- 
 ternal regard. He served many years also, as Corre- 
 sponding Secretary of the New York Baptist Domestic 
 Missionary Society, and after the American Baptist 
 Home Mission Society was formed, he acted twelve years 
 as Chairman of its Executive Board. He was Moderator 
 of the Hudson Eiver Baptist Association sixteen years, 
 and of the New York Baptist Association eiglit years, 
 which office he filled in the latter body at the time 
 of his death. He filled the office of Kecording Secretary 
 
16 
 
 in the American Bible Society a long time, and served 
 as President of the American and Foreign Bible So- 
 ciety from its formation in 1836, to the year 1S50; 
 and from this time onward to his death, as President 
 of the American Bible Union. 
 
 CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 The closing scenes of Dr. Cone's ministry were 
 every w^ay worthy of his long and eventful life. From 
 the death of Mrs. Cone, in August, 1S54, he felt that 
 his own work was nearly done. When she who had 
 stood at his side in all the changes of forty years, was 
 taken away, he realized, as he never had before, that 
 hmnan life is bounded by three score years and ten, 
 and that his foot rested on the margin of those bounds. 
 The pain of that event made him tread the few paces 
 that were left more heavily, and he could not have 
 endured it for a day, but for the special support which 
 he drew from the precious promises of Christ. Nay, 
 with all these consolations, it was a blow from which 
 he never fully recovered. No man could be more de- 
 voted to his wife than was Dr. Cone, to her whom 
 he so tenderly characterizes, as, " The wife of my youth, 
 the companion of my age, the sharer of my sorrows 
 and my joys; affectionate, faithful, and true, her price 
 was above rubies." 
 
 I can never forget a scene which occurred in my own 
 pulpit on the 4th of June last, illustrative of his deep 
 
17 
 
 sorrow under this bereavement. A young minister had 
 lost his wife, and had brought her to the house of God 
 where she formerly worshipped, that we might cele- 
 brate her funeral services. Dr. Cone was present, and 
 rose in the pulpit to address the friends. But as he 
 opened his mouth to speak, his eye caught a glance 
 of the young brother, quivering with suppressed grief 
 before the coffin of his sleeping wife. The sight was 
 too much for his very sensitive heart, and he was 
 overwhelmed. For some moments he stood unable to 
 utter a word. The big tears came pouring down his 
 cheeks, and he attempted to brace himself against his 
 emotions, in his own peculiar way, but failed. At 
 length, regaining perfect control of his heart, he said, 
 in tones of hallowed tenderness, "It is hard to bury a 
 young w^ife, my dear brother. But when you have 
 lived with one forty and two years — the wife of your 
 youth — the mother of your children — the companion 
 of your lonely hours — the undeviating and always re- 
 liable friend of your whole life — then, indeed, the stroke 
 is heavy.'''' These "lonely hours" made the good man 
 long to die, and he frequently assured his sons that, 
 in view of being perfectly holy in the presence of 
 God, and in view of his anticipated reunion with de- 
 parted friends in heaven, he waited for the hour of 
 death, as the hour when his most ecstatic conceptions 
 of bliss would be realized. But he felt that his life 
 was not his own, and he desired, above all things, to 
 
18 
 
 die in the work of God, if it were his Father's will. 
 Within the last twelve months, he remarked to several 
 of his friends, that this was his last year on earth. 
 Sincerely believing this, instead of shunning care and 
 toil, he rather created new demands upon his ener- 
 gies for both, that he might fill up the measure of 
 his days to the glory of God. And the Lord signally 
 indulged him in his desire to fall with his harness on, 
 for as he rose from this baptistery, and passed the 
 threshold of that door the last time, the ministering 
 angels drew near "with the chariots of Israel and the 
 horsemen thereof." From that moment they watched 
 anxiously for the last gasp of the victor, that they 
 might drop the chaplet on his "hoary head," and take 
 up their triumphal march, past stars, and suns, and 
 systems in the ethereal blue, to startle the tenantry 
 of unknown solitudes with their sweeping swelling 
 anthem; — "Well done, good and faithful servant, enter 
 thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
 On the ninth day of August, he felt a numbness steal- 
 ing over his limbs, and remarked to an old friend from 
 Virginia, who had called upon him, "I have been labor- 
 ing hard and incessantly, from the age of fourteen, and 
 now I feel my work is done." On the tenth, he rose in 
 the morning and, contrary to his custom for some time 
 past, took the Bible himself to read a portion at family 
 worship, instead of requesting his son to read for him. 
 Twice he faltered in the reading, as if his sight failed 
 
19 
 
 him, wliicli created a slight surprise at the moment. 
 Then the family kneeled down together before the 
 Throne of Grace for the last time! His prayer was 
 characterized by two things, which attracted the atten- 
 tion of those present, and left an impression that will be 
 immortal, — an unusual fervency which amounted to a 
 "wrestling" with God; and a direct personality of sup- 
 plication for himself, such as he was scarcely ever known 
 to use before at the family altar. He prayed, that as a 
 shepherd, he might give up the sheep into the hands of 
 the "Good Shepherd," who gave his life for them — as 
 a watchman, upon the towers of Zion, he might be free 
 from the blood of all men — as a steward, he mifrht 
 render his account with joy — as a servant, he might be 
 found faithful in a few things at least, and that God 
 would accept himself and all his poor services to the 
 glory of his grace. Prayer being ended, and the sacred 
 oracles being laid aside, he retired to his room, where 
 in a short time " he was taken sick of the sickness 
 whereof he died." 
 
 Only five short days before this, he had preached to you 
 that memorable last sermon, from the very appropriate 
 words of the Saviour, "No man cometh unto the Father 
 but by me;" and now he was to feel all the precious- 
 ness of the Divine annunciation. About two hours 
 after Dr. Cone was stricken with paralysis, and while 
 his physicians were anxiously prescribing the method of 
 his treatment. Deacon Hillman was endeavoring to afford 
 
20 
 
 him a little relief, by bathing and rubbing the foot that 
 was paralyzed. He looked down upon the Deacon, and 
 remarked, with great difficulty of articulation, " I have 
 kept on the harness until my work is done. The spirit 
 of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit 
 who can bear? But I have no wounded spirit. What a 
 blessed thing it is to know that when we leave this body, 
 we are going to a better place." He then proceeded to 
 quote several rich promises from God's word. He also 
 spoke earnestly of " the covenant of grace ordered in all 
 things and sure;" for the foundation of his faith was 
 laid, 
 
 " In oaths, aud promises, aucl blood." 
 
 After this, he dropped a part of a sentence now and 
 then to Dr. Devan, one of his beloved physicians, but 
 they were, for the most part, so broken and disconnected, 
 that it would be unsatisfactory to repeat them here. He 
 lingered on for eighteen days, and all that human skill 
 and kindness could do, was done to effect his recovery. 
 But in his own significant phraseology, his " tvorJc was 
 doney And early on the 2Sth of August, about the ordi- 
 nary time for his family devotions, he came " unto Mount 
 Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly 
 Jerusalem." 
 
 How much there is in all this to remind us of the 
 sublime spectacle that transpired on the summit of 
 Mount Hor, in the olden times, when Moses stripped 
 
21 
 
 Aaron of his sacerdotal vestments, that the venerable 
 High Priest of God might die there. The tribes of 
 Israel stayed at the base of the Mount, and wept in its 
 dark shadow, while Moses, and Eleazar, and Aaron, went 
 up to its top, to see "mortality swallowed up of life." 
 When Aaron reached the brow of the barren Mount, 
 "/«s work was done." When Moses stripped his en- 
 deared brother of the robes of the sanctuary, O how his 
 heart must have melted at the thought, that: he should 
 listen to his eloquent voice no more. They had lived, 
 and loved, and toiled together for the sacramental hosts 
 encamped below, as the heart of one man. Methinks, 
 they fell upon each other's neck — that they spoke of a 
 reunion soon in "a better country, that is a heavenly" — 
 that they all bowed and breathed out their last prayers 
 together — Moses clothed Eleazar with the consecrated 
 vesture of his sire — and then, Aaron gave forth his last 
 utterances of wisdom and resignation — laid down npon 
 his granite couch — closed his eyes upon his brother and 
 his son — and opened them upon "the general assembly 
 and Church of the first-born, which are written in 
 heaven" — and upon Jesus, the "minister of the sanctua- 
 ry, and of the true tabernacle which the Lord pitched, 
 and not man." 
 
 So here, our venerable father in the Gospel ministry, 
 had attained a full and ripe age, which brought to him 
 but few of its infirmities, with all its advantages. 
 
 "Hoary age" invested him with all its effulgence, 
 3 
 
22 
 
 without any of its blight. It illumined his face with 
 wisdom, and crowned his head with "a crown of glory," 
 more beautiful than the diadem upon the blooming 
 almond-tree, without freezing the fountains of his love, 
 or quenching the fires of his zeal. It breathed upon 
 him not to blast but to beautify. Not to wither but to 
 perfect. Death rushed not upon him, at his post, like 
 a ruthless foe ; but came with soft and gentle steps, 
 much as the ray of a star steals over a slumbering infant at 
 midnight. The " King of Terrors" seems to have entered 
 his room on Tuesday morning, as if he knew that he was to 
 encounter " a strong man armed," who, unless he treated 
 him gently, would rise in the strength of his Redeemer, 
 and challenge, " death, I will be thy plagues !" So 
 instead of ruthless disruption and stormy desolation, 
 instead of the roaring whirlwind tearing up the golden 
 grain from beard to root, and scattering and trampling 
 it furiously, ear by ear — instead of this, death noiselessly 
 beckoned with his hand, saying, " Thou shalt come to 
 the grave in hoary age, as the sheaf is gathered in, in its 
 season;" — and with one thrust of the sickle, "the angels 
 who were the reapers," soared off to the skies with the 
 sheaf in their bosoms, and were shouting " the joy of the 
 harvest home," before the loved ones of earth were 
 aware that the spirit had fled. 
 
23 
 
 EEMARKS ON THE NARRATIVE. 
 
 We have now reached that delicate part of our address, 
 in which we are to notice the general character of Dr. 
 Cone, as it appears in this brief sketch. Here, faithfulness 
 calls us to search out acceptable words, that we may 
 speak the truth in soberness. Happily for us, the words 
 of our text most forcibly present, in epitorhe, all that it 
 is needful to say. Could the excellences and defects of 
 our beloved brother — mental and moral — personal and 
 relative — private and official — be more beautifully blend- 
 ed, or more happily expressed, than they are here, in the 
 elegant rhetoric and language of the Holy Spirit? " A 
 sheaf, gathered in, in its season !" Not a mere ear of wheat 
 — not a mere handful — a mere cluster of grain — but a 
 bosom full — "a sheaf." Moreover, it is set forth by im- 
 plication, as a sheaf, the seed of which was sown in good 
 ground, and gave forth, first the tender blade, and then 
 the bursting ear, and then the full corn in the ear. It 
 was watered by tears, and fostered by prayers ; the dews 
 of heaven refreshed it, and the sun of righteousness 
 matured it; until the husbandman's voice said, "put in 
 the sickle ;" and then "it was gathered in, in its season^ 
 Stony ground did not stunt its growth, thorns and 
 thistles did not choke it, it was not mildewed by the 
 glow of prosperity, it was not blasted by the storms of 
 adversity, but it was anxiously cultured to the yellow 
 
24 
 
 lustre of ripeness, to be cut down, and bound up in 
 golden bands of grace, and " gathered in, in its season." 
 
 "Ah!" I hear some one ask, "and was it unmixed, 
 then, with tares, or cockle, or darnel, or chaff?" Bear 
 in mind, my dear friend, that as men understand hus- 
 bandry, a sheaf would not be perfect without its chaff. 
 And it w^as so here. In making up the whole man, we 
 find some light refuse. But as to tares and noxious 
 weeds, I am sure there are none. What, then, of that 
 which we do find? In the language of Dr. Cone's text, 
 in his last sermon to the young, we demand, " what is 
 the chaff to the wheat?" No man realized his real 
 defects and faults more than himself, and no man ever 
 prayed more earnestly, that " the wind might carry them 
 away like the chaff of the summer threshing floors." 
 
 A few wrecks ago, in a conversation with him, a change 
 of topic brought up the peculiarities of John Leland. I 
 called his attention to the following striking passage, in 
 the published works of Leland, at the close of his narra- 
 tive: " Looking over the foregoing narrative, there is 
 proof enough of imperfection, and yet what I have 
 wTitten is the best part of my life. A history seven 
 times as large, might be written of my errors in judgment, 
 incorrectness of behavior, and baseness of heart. And 
 when I come to Christ for pardon, I come as an old gray- 
 headed sinner, in the language of the publican, " God be 
 merciful to me a sinner." "Ah! upon my word,, said 
 Dr. Cone, " what a perfect picture tliat is of us all. 
 
25 
 
 What poor miserable sinners we are ?" After this frank 
 confession to the correctness of his own picture, drawn 
 by Leland, you will allow me to leave the further discus- 
 sion of his faults, to those, who, during his life, delighted to 
 magnify and multiply them above their own ; or as Isaiah 
 has it, to "thresh the mountains and beat them small, 
 and make the hills as chaff," under the operations of 
 " a sharp threshing instrument, having teeth." 
 
 Dr. Cone possessed a distinguishing superiority 
 OF MIND. Not that ponderous massiveness of thought 
 and reason, which, of itself, sets the seal of greatness 
 upon him who possesses it. This gift is bestowed but 
 once in an age. The superiority of his mind, did not 
 consist so much in the stature or strength of any one 
 distinctive quality, as in that happy fullness and blending 
 of aZZ the mental attributes, thus harmonizing the intel- 
 lect with itself, and rendering it beautifully symmetrical. 
 Just as the colors of the rainbow blend to form an har- 
 monious arch, so every mental faculty blended in him ; 
 no individual member of the mind predominating over 
 the others, in a degree to render his powers misshapen 
 and ill-balanced. Each department of his mind was 
 active and healthy ; and all conspired to raise their posses- 
 sor to a superiority which few men reach. 
 
 His perception ; was clear, vigorous, and penetrating, 
 so that he stood in no need of an inventive originality. 
 It took hold of strong practical sense, with a firm pur- 
 pose. Dr. Cone took nothing for granted. But every 
 
26 
 
 fact and theory, claiming his faith and confidence, must 
 be thoroughly sifted. He scorned to hold that as true, 
 which he had not closely investigated. This strong per- 
 ception, coupled with his solicitude to get at the truth, 
 endowed him with an ability to detect a plausible sophis- 
 try, amounting almost to intuition. It also gave direct- 
 ness and fluency to his forms of expression, and a lucid 
 emphasis to his reasonings, and facts, which made them 
 felt upon the popular mind, however great the odds 
 against him. 
 
 His imagination ; was quick, chaste, and graphic. He 
 had cultivated this faculty to a considerable extent by 
 the study of poetry, especially the works of the old 
 English poets. With Milton, and Shakspeare, he was very 
 familiar, and could call up almost any passage from these 
 great philosophers and painters of human nature, at 
 pleasure. His preaching was full of imagery at times, 
 and his chaste figurative language, often adorned, but 
 oftener illustrated, what could not have been conveyed to 
 dull minds by rules and maxims. He used this graphic 
 style most freely, perhaps, in his early ministr}^ His 
 deep sympathy with the spirit of poetry, is clearly seen 
 in his ready appreciation of poetic sentiment, and the 
 force with which he accompanied its announcement. 
 No one w^ho has heard Dr. Cone read a hymn, can have 
 failed to notice and feel by every modulation of his 
 voice, every expression of his face, and every gesture of 
 his body, that the spirit and force of the composition, 
 
27 
 
 first made its legitimate impression upon his own heart, 
 and then upon the heart of the hearer, as sentence after 
 sentence fell from his lips. Hence, it was no uncommon 
 thing to see a large congregation melted into tears, 
 or giving forth some other expressions of emotion, while 
 he was reading an old familiar hymn, which had never 
 awakened the slightest sensation in their souls before. 
 
 His memory ; was exact, and of vast compass, great 
 richness, and ready communication. His faithfulness of 
 memory, and clearness of understanding, gave him that 
 collectedness and self-possession which rarely forsook 
 him as an extempore speaker, and never as a presiding 
 officer, no matter how complex the deliberations, or tur- 
 bulent the assembly. It also supplied his fund of 
 anecdote and personal reminiscence, which was inexhaTist- 
 ible. No one could start a subject connected with the 
 history of our country, but more especially with the 
 history of our denomination, but he would immediately 
 relate some fact which would illuminate the whole 
 subject, and the relation generally glowed with some 
 delicate touch of humor or pathos. In his day, he navi- 
 gated, with other ecclesiastical voyagers, among rocks, 
 and shoals, and dangerous whirlpools, and several times 
 when our good Baptist ship seemed ready to founder, his 
 knowledge of the old currents and channels, had much 
 to do with the direction of her helm, and her safe moor- 
 ing in the desired haven. 
 
 His will ; was bold, stern, and indomitable. This 
 
2S 
 
 noble faculty witli which God has endowed man, 
 w^as one of the noblest of his soul. Without this 
 faculty, and nearly in this form, no man can be great. 
 It is not meant by this, that he was self-willed. The 
 truth lies so far from this, that few men, whose talents, 
 experience, and wisdom, entitle their opinions and plans 
 to weighty consideration, are more willing to waive their 
 peculiar predilections, where principle is not involved, 
 than he was, when another could show unto him a 
 more excellent way. But it is meant, rather, that his 
 mental integrity required him to probe error to the 
 quick, and give a verdict upon the results, and then, by 
 the gravity of conviction, to stand upon that verdict as 
 firm as the base of a mountain. His will linked itself 
 with his conscience, in these investigations, and made 
 him valiant for the truth ; and his stern adherence to the 
 truth, either magnetized men with a conviction of his 
 integrity, or provoked them to charge him with arrogance 
 or obstinacy. He knew nothing of fear, mentally, 
 physically, or morally; and yet when truth was periled, 
 his common sense made him a most acute and cautious 
 observer of the signs of the times. And when the signs 
 of the times indicated the approach of violent opposition, 
 they also indicated to him the greater necessity of with- 
 standing it the more indomitably, and in nine cases out 
 of every ten, when the inveterate struggle was ended, the 
 right was triumphant. 
 
 But the sensibilities, and the religious faculties are 
 
29 
 
 nobler than the merely intellectual. Did he excel here ? 
 He had a beautiful mind, but he had also a noble heart. 
 
 His affections ; were of a high, pure, and generous 
 order. As might be naturally expected, it was not so 
 easy to obtain his unbounded confidence, or even his 
 intimate friendship, as it would be with men of less dis- 
 crimination. But when either was once secured, no 
 design or misrepresentation could disturb it. Yet if it 
 was once wantonly sacrificed, it was restored with much 
 greater caution than that which first bestowed it. Hence, 
 his friendships were invaluable. His heart was suscepti- 
 ble of the deepest tenderness, and the profoundest 
 emotion. When sorrow took aim, and sent an arrow 
 from her quiver, there was no shield between her bow 
 and his heart. When the benighted sought a guide, they 
 knew where to find a lamp trimmed and burning, and at 
 their service. When the young and friendless candidate 
 for the "ministry of reconciliation" needed a counselor, 
 or a benefactor, he knew that this veteran heart would 
 yearn over him in love and pity. And, I will not say that 
 there are scores, but hundreds of brethren, in our ministry, 
 and some of them highly distinguished for greatness and 
 success, who will long cherish the recollections of his 
 kindness, hospitality, and benevolence toward them, 
 when struggling for an education. You could not but 
 love him, for kindness of heart was radiant in his face. 
 Still the eagerness of your love was sometimes checked, 
 to take the form of veneration, when benevolence spoke 
 
30 
 
 in every motion of his person. Love never disqualified 
 
 him for discriminating nicely between right and wrong, 
 
 in his best friends, and woe betide the evil doer, whether 
 
 friend or foe, w^hen his vehemence assumed the attire of 
 
 rebuke ; which was the more painful because of his vener- 
 able presence. 
 
 The great tenderness of his heart, and the depth of his 
 sensibilities, are remarkably illustrated in his love to his 
 mother, and brother, and sisters. He spent fourteen 
 years of his life, when a youth and a young man, in toiling 
 for their support or education. This is a remarkable 
 fact, and worthy of the serious thought of every young 
 man present. His love for his mother was of the deep- 
 est, purest, and most lasting nature. He says, " I loved 
 her with unfeigned love." And my young friends, be 
 assured, if there is one sight on earth more beautiful than 
 another, it is to see a man in the vigor of his days de- 
 voted to his mother. 
 
 His love of Patriotism ; was another striking feature 
 in his character. At the time he took the editorial chair 
 of the ^'■Baltimore Whig,'''' political excitement ran high, 
 and the passing contest was severe. The administration 
 of Madison w^as resisted at every step, by some of the 
 most powerful minds of the age. On the other hand, it 
 was sustained by many of immortal renown. Among 
 w^hom, we find William Pinckney, who is pronounced by 
 Col. Benton, the most eloquent man he ever listened to 
 in the American Congress. Mr. Cone was in daily inter- 
 
31 
 
 course with Mr. Pinckney, at that time, not oiily because 
 the latter was a constant contributor to the columns of 
 his paper, but also because they were compatriots in 
 arms for the defense of their country. Mr. Cone was the 
 son of a Revolutionary soldier, and said, "I claim, there- 
 fore, to be an American, not only by birth, but in every 
 feeling of my heart." And his daily intercourse with 
 patriots of this genuine stamp, kept his patriotism in a 
 constant blaze. After his conversion, while his bosom 
 was dilating with first love to Christ, he saw that the 
 liberties of his country had claims upon him, to the ex- 
 tent of his life, if need be, either as a private soldier, or 
 as "a captain of fifty." The roar of continental cannon 
 had scarcely died away when he was first rocked in his 
 cradle. The victorious shouts of American patriots first 
 quickened his blood on its way to his heart, in his child- 
 hood. He felt, therefore, that he would be unworthy of his 
 free home to shrink in a day of duty. The times were 
 peculiarly trying. A new and great nation had sprung 
 into being simultaneously with his own natural life. It was 
 to be governed on untried principles. Stern necessities 
 and forbidding contingencies were to be met. The new 
 order of things was to test Constitutional provisions and 
 Executive prerogatives. In a word, the freedom achieved, 
 at so dear a price, was to be surrendered at once, or 
 shielded instanter, against anarchy within and invasion 
 without. Mr. Cone was not the man to be indifferent 
 under such circumstances. Withal, his religion had 
 
32 
 
 strengthened and sanctified his love for his country, and 
 had entwined a new and mystic cordage around his heart, 
 which bound him closer and closer to its weal or woe. 
 With these feelings, he writes, "The war was raging, 
 Baltimore was a beleaguered city. I did not, therefore, 
 feel at liberty to resign my commission as a soldier, but 
 did my duty faithfully ; and my own company of artillery 
 not being drafted to go to Washington, I accepted from 
 Major Pinckney a Brevet commission of lieutenant in a 
 company of sharp-shooters, and was in the battles of 
 Bladensburg and Long-log-lane, near Baltimore. I 
 thought myself to be in the path of duty then, and am 
 of the same opinion still." To my mind, this part of 
 Mr. Cone's history throws considerable light upon cer- 
 tain characteristic views and practices in after life. But 
 particularly, wath reference to the independency and 
 government of Baptist churches, which he regarded as 
 the perfect embodiment and development of the demo- 
 cratic principle. After all, every other excellency in the 
 character of Spencer H. Cone was eclipsed by 
 
 His moral integrity ; — his indissoluble love of 
 
 the truth. 
 
 This stands out with great prominence in his life, 
 as a minister of the Gospel, and as the modern apostle 
 of pure versions of the word of God for all men. To 
 stand here and simply say, that his noble and manly 
 ministry was distinguished and successful, would hardly 
 
33 
 
 be an act of love ; while it certainly would be an assump- 
 tion of great familiarity. I must conscientiously speak 
 from this pulpit what I think. I cannot, therefore, pass in 
 silence that part of his character which uttered forth, 
 with a thousand voices, the spiritual consciousness of 
 his soul enthroned in the secret chambers of his being. 
 
 All his powers were consecrated to the w^ork of the 
 ministry, and its cognate pursuits. Had he continued 
 in political life, he would, without doubt, have reached 
 high honors and offices of trust; indeed, his executive 
 talents would have claimed for him a high position in 
 any sphere of action. All this he cheerfully surrendered, 
 prospectively, exclaiming, " To preach Christ and him 
 crucified is the business of my life and the joy of my 
 heart." Having once laid his soul a sacrifice upon the 
 altar, he had no choice left but to be bold and uncom- 
 promising in proclaiming the whole range of " the glo- 
 rious Gospel." From the early part of his ministry, he 
 made himself perfectly master of the writings of Thomas 
 Scott, Mathew Henry, Abraham Booth, Jonathan Ed- 
 wards, John Gill, John Owen, and John Calvin. More 
 than all else, he read and studied the word of God ; its 
 prayerful perusal being a part of his daily meat and 
 drink, to the end of his life. He was well skilled in 
 polemical and practical divinity, but as he acknowledged 
 no ground of faith but the dictates of Divine authority, 
 the first question with him was, "What saith tlie Scrip- 
 tures?" A single eye and an honest heart, enwrapped 
 
34 
 
 Mm ill a suit of plated mail, impervious to every weapon 
 but " the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of 
 God." 
 
 On this principle he was a Calvinist ; a Calviuist of 
 the old school, and felt no apology necessary for being 
 so. In preaching the distinctive doctrines of that school, 
 he suffered no Antinomian sin to rest easy on any man ; 
 but enforced all the duties of the Christian life, by 
 weighty motives and considerations. By his commission 
 from Christ, he aimed to awaken the secure — to quicken 
 the slothful — to strengthen the weak — and to warn the 
 rebellious to "flee from the wrath to come." He in- 
 sisted that "the law is holy, just, and good. But that 
 by the deeds of the law shall no flesh living be justified." 
 "For by grace are ye saved through faith ; and that not 
 of yourselves : it is the gift of God : not of works, lest 
 any man should boast. For we are his workmanship, 
 created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God 
 hath before ordained that we should walk in them." 
 He insisted that so far from the doctrines of grace lead- 
 ing to licentiousness, they are the most powerful pre- 
 ventives against it, by teaching the ransomed rebel his 
 nothingness, and securing all the glory of his salvation 
 to Christ. Nor did he think it necessary, in preaching 
 these and their correlative truths, to apologize for the 
 mysteries of the Gospel, in a fruitless attempt to level 
 them to the claims of reason. Herein he "showed him- 
 self a workman that needed not to be ashamed, rightly 
 
35 
 
 dividing the word of truth." Eeason revolts at the doctrine 
 of the moral agency of man, being coupled as it is with 
 that of the sovereignty of Jehovah, in his salvation. But 
 what then ? Are we at liberty to reject either of these 
 doctrines of the Bible for this cause. I think not. If 
 we are, let; us be consistent and abandon faith in every 
 mystery of Christianity at once. Nay, let us go fur- 
 ther, and abandon all faith in nature, for the same reason. 
 What fundamental principle is there in nature that is 
 less mysterious than these two fundamental principles 
 in revelation? Both in nature and revelation, there is 
 much that is above reason, and beyond its reach, which 
 may not after all be against it. But shall I refuse to 
 bow meekly before the teachings of either, for this cause? 
 I cannot explain the minutest mystery of my own being. 
 My heart beats. I cannot tell how. My brain deducts. 
 I cannot show why. My will acts upon my muscles, and 
 bones, and controls all my physical motions. But it is 
 all a mystery. I may analyze, and ransack and torture 
 nature. But she turns key after key against me, and 
 locks up all her secrets in her own laboratory, and will 
 not divulge the first syllable of her mysteries. Then 
 must I refuse faith to my beating heart — my thinking 
 brain — my acting will — because reason cannot compre- 
 hend their mysterious operations ? On the other hand, 
 who can satisfy reason that there are three persons in 
 one Godhead- — that in the one Christ there are two per- 
 fecb and separate natures, the Divine and the human, as 
 
36 
 
 he sits to-day upon the throne of mediation — that spot 
 less holiness could claim, and infinite love could give, the 
 pure and innocent in sacrifice, for the redemption of the 
 guilty? These are all doctrines of revelation, and as 
 Christians, we say, that their profound mystery and lofty 
 conception stamps them with Divinity, and, therefore, 
 that we must press them to the heart as the precious 
 inheritance, not of reason but of faith, and unconstrained 
 we acknowledge, "Thy icays, O Lord, are past finding 
 out!" Then does it demand a greater stretch of faith 
 to yield assent to the mysterious purposes of God, than 
 is required to adore his mysterious nature ? My breth- 
 ren, w^ien we once learn to prostrate ourselves as low 
 before the shrine of vocal revelation, as we do before the 
 dumb oracle of nature, when we once learn to yield sub- 
 mission to revelation in all its utterances, as well as a 
 part, our faith will add this truth to its triumphant 
 acknowledgment, " Thy judgments, Lord, are a great 
 deep!" 
 
 With what simplicity of diction and pathos of spirit 
 did this departed " legate of the skies" set forth these 
 sublime truths, with all the co-equal messages of the 
 Bible. As he stood in the pulpit, his splendid head and 
 noble heart enlisted all their powers to discharge his 
 mission. His attitudes ; simple and free from art, were 
 easy as the curvings of an eagle when he sinks or soars. 
 His person ; was graceful, meek, and dignified. His fea- 
 tures; fair and flexible, gave tone to every form of expres- 
 
37 
 
 sioii, and his blae eye, suftused with tears, or bathed in 
 light and love, told all that was transpiring in his heart. 
 His voice; rich, powerful, and melodious, was vehement 
 as the maddened storm — soft as the ascending strain from 
 the lute — defiant as the bristling lion — mournful as the 
 wooing dove — or startling as the martial trumpet. It 
 waited to be used at pleasure and command a hearing 
 for him, who with his Master, "spoke as one having 
 authority and not as the Scribes." 
 
 Not only was he an eloquent man, but it must have 
 been apparent to all who heard him unfold the mysteries 
 of the Gospel that he was a man of strong faith himself. 
 The personal piety of Dr. Cone cannot be questioned by 
 those who either observed his private life, or sat under 
 his ministry. Reverence for the holy name and word 
 of God, characterized his life and ministrations. In 
 the pulpit, his reading of the Scriptures, and prayer at 
 the mercy-seat, both showed the elevation of his faith 
 and the profoundness of his humility. His faith ap- 
 proached the Holy One of Israel in all the lowliness of 
 self-abasement, and in all the sublimity of lofty adora- 
 tion. His faith in the infinite majesty of God, filled him 
 with awe, and yet it was bold to seek a blessing in his 
 boundless love and condescending grace. All poverty 
 in himself; his faith confessed the amplitude of the foun- 
 tain to which he came. All sin in himself; his faith 
 uttered its filial confidence in the unchanged fiiithfulness 
 
 of the Father, and tenderly plead the atoning sacrifice of 
 4 
 
38 
 
 the Son, while the Spirit gave the fullest and sweetest assu- 
 rance that his prayers came up acceptably unto the ears 
 of the Lord God of Sabbaoth. Sometimes I have heard him 
 pray, when, for a few moments, it would have been no 
 difficult thing to imagine him rather inspired with the 
 transports of the glorified worshippers, than pleading 
 among a multitude of hell-deserving sinners, of whom he 
 was confessing, "I am chief." This strong ftiith accom- 
 panied him into all the duties of life, so that the eulogy 
 pronounced by the Holy Spirit upon Barnabas, may 
 appropriately be applied to him — " He was a good man, 
 and full of the Holy Spirit and of faith ; and much 
 people was added unto the Lord." 
 
 And when he left the pulpit, he felt unconcerned to 
 know whether his theme suited the palate of his hearers 
 or not. Ill his preparations for the pulpit, he consulted 
 the greatest profit of his people ; while in the pulpit, he 
 looked for "an unction from the Holv One ;" but when 
 he left the pulpit, he was content ; if he felt the approval 
 of God, as "a good minister of Jesus Christ." When 
 Chaplain to Congress, he was sorely tried on this point. 
 He says, "My Gospel was openly attacked by members 
 of Congress, and Mr. Clay, the Speaker of the House, 
 was requested to prevent my preaching again, in the 
 Halls of Congress, because I mentioned from the Speaker's 
 chair, the last words of one of the members, w^ho had 
 died two or three weeks before, and took occasion then, 
 to p-ovefrom the Bible, that " except a man be born again. 
 
39 
 
 he cannot enter into the kingdom of God." But the Lord 
 helped me mightily; and silence, order, and solemnity, 
 characterized assemblies composed of persons of no creed 
 and of all creeds." It is proper to say here, that Mr. 
 Clay took him by the hand, and with great warmth, 
 assured him that he should not be disturbed in the dis- 
 charge of his duty; and that, for his own part, he 
 respected him the more for faithfully preaching the 
 doctrines which he honestly believed were taught in the 
 Bible. 
 
 HIS LOVE FOR A PURE BIBLE. 
 
 But the pulpit was not the only place where he 
 exhibited his unconquerable love of the truth, and his 
 undaunted advocacy of it. He was the modern apostle 
 of the great principle which entitles all men to pure 
 versions of the w^ord of God. Here, the platform and 
 the press, were witnesses of his lofty integrity. Here, 
 his fame will rest, with coming generations, as it does 
 already with this. For even now, there are thousands, 
 if not millions, both in Europe and America, who never 
 saw his face — know nothing of his abilities and excel- 
 lences in other respects — and could scarcely define his 
 ecclesiastical connections, if required to do so on oath — 
 who, nevertheless, are familiar with his name as an 
 apostle in the service of pure versions of the Bible. 
 
 True, this great principle is not new ; for the reason 
 
40 
 
 that no principle is new. Bvt the universal application of 
 theprinciple is nciv. The principle on which the doctrine 
 of Justification by Faith is based, was not new in the 
 days of Luther. But the doctrine itself, as the applica- 
 tion of that principle, was almost universally scouted, 
 until Luther nailed his celebrated Theses to the church 
 door at Wittemberg. The doctrine was buried by the 
 Church of Rome, in the musty volumes of the fathers, 
 and the cloistered word of God. But the strokes of the 
 hammer, and the driving of the nails, startled the monk- 
 ish priesthood. The entombed doctrine heard the blows 
 also — was reminded of the five nails and the spear 
 which hung around its birthplace, — and forthwith the 
 monasteries rocked in the throes of a resurrection. The 
 masses of workmongers ran to the church door — 
 read the handwriting against them, and were alarmed, 
 — and from that time. Justification by Faith in the 
 imputed righteousness of Jesus, was revived in the 
 pulpit and the lives of the people. Luther's fame 
 hangs on that fact. So of the application of this 
 principle by the Church of Christ, to the Bible, as 
 teaching the religious rights and duties of all men. 
 Who, in America, was awake to it, when Spencer H. 
 Cone and Prof. Knowles pressed it upon the attention 
 of the Baptist Churches, at the Salem Convention, in 
 1833? This was several years before a distinct Bible 
 organization was founded upon this principle. The 
 missionaries in Bengal and Burmali were applying the 
 
41 
 
 principle by preparing immersionist versions for a small 
 part of mankind, but who was moving a finger for its 
 application to the English Scriptures, for the benefit of 
 the millions at home, until he nailed up his Thesis, to 
 be "read and known of all men?" Said he, "to bap- 
 tize is to immerse. If it be right to preach it, it is 
 right to print it ; and if it be wrong to print it, it is 
 wrong to preach it." Love to a principle is proved by- 
 love for its application : this is all that gives it its 
 potency. He might have claimed the divinity of the 
 principle to this day without dispute, if he had rested 
 the issue there. But, when he went further than this, 
 it inevitably led to the formation of the American and 
 Foreign Bible Society. I have said that he was the 
 modern apostle -of this great principle. And if what 
 men do, is to be preferred to what they say, and is to be the 
 criterion of their love, then the claim is well founded. 
 This distinction is cheerfully awarded to him by those who 
 have sympathized most deeply with him ; and certainly 
 those who have never raised a finger to cheer him in 
 the struggle, and those vdio have sternly opposed him, 
 have no reason to demur at the award. 
 
 In the formation of the American and Foreign Bible 
 Society he took a prominent part. The controversy 
 which gave rise to it was a severe one, and most of the 
 odium fell upon its President, as, in fact, the author of 
 the grave movement ; and the sinner " above all men 
 that dwelt in Jerusalem." " The Bible Translated" 
 
42 
 
 was his platform, and he stood upon it as lirm as the 
 mountain on whose bosom he now rests, in his native 
 State. 
 
 As the President of that Society, he said, "The great 
 principle for which he contended, was, — That all men 
 
 OUGHT TO HAVE THE WORD OF GoD UNMUTILATED 
 
 AND undisguised; and the American and Foreign Bible 
 Society was founded upon that plain and simple truth, 
 and not upon any "Sectarian" basis; hence, when the 
 Society was organized, we took for our watchword and 
 our motto — The Bible Translated. Upon the recti- 
 tude of this principle we rest the merits of our cause. 
 To insinuate that we have attempted "to render the 
 word of God subservient to mere denominational pur- 
 poses," is unkind and unjust. We are entirely satisfied 
 with " the word of God," and, as a denomination, all 
 we ask is that no part of it should be covered up from 
 the people in an unknown tongue ; — let it be translated 
 with fidelity^ that men may everywhere hear and read 
 what God would have them to do ; let it be translated 
 so plainly , that even the "wayfaring men, though fools, 
 may not err therein." Does Baptizo, for examj^le, 
 mean to jiour, or spinMe, or icasli, or christen, or sign 
 vnih the sign of the cross? Let it be so translated, that 
 men may know that God requires them to be spinhled or 
 Ijoured; and let all who please, sustain by their prayers, 
 and alms, and influence, these sprinkling or pouring 
 versions." 
 
43 
 
 These views he reiterated again and again in his 
 annual addresses as President of the Society. And few 
 addresses, delivered by other persons, are found in the 
 Reports, that do not warmly repeat the same sentiments, 
 and none of them more warmly than the Annual Re- 
 ports themselves. Dr. Cone also opened an extensive 
 correspondence with Drs. Cox, and Hoby, of Great 
 Britain, Dr. Judson, of the Burman Mission, and Wil- 
 liam Yates, of Calcutta, and many other persons in 
 Europe, America, and Asia, with reference to the best 
 method to be pursued in applying this principle to the 
 English Bible. So far had this design gone, that at 
 one period. Dr. Cox had stipulated on what terms he 
 would proceed to do the work, in conjunction with 
 other European scholars; so unmistakably were the 
 principles of the Society understood by the President 
 and thousands of its friends and founders. Nay, the 
 Board had actually authorized changes in certain parts 
 of the New Testament, where known and obvious errors 
 existed; and yet, in 1850, he found it necessary with 
 his brethren, to pass through new battles, in this 
 very Society, for a pure Bible. He had cherished the 
 American and Foreign Bible Society as his life. But, 
 in 1S50, when that Society stretched forth its hands 
 to seize the throat of Truth — that Truth which had 
 evoked its very being — when it bound and led her forth 
 a struggling victim, and offered her, a wave offering, 
 upon the altar of expediency — he stood up and plead. 
 
44 
 
 with manly eloquence and tears, that she might be 
 spared, saying, "What evil hath she done?" And, 
 "when he saw that" intercession prevailed "nothing, 
 but that rather a tumult was made, he washed his 
 hands," and retired from the wild scene of slaughter, 
 unwilling to sanction the crime by his presence. This 
 act drew upon him an amount of reproach which few 
 men have breasted, for any cause, in modern times. Yet, 
 with Abraham of old, "he staggered not through unbe- 
 lief, but was strong in ftiith, giving glory to God, ac- 
 counting that God was able to raise her up even from 
 the dead, from whence also he received her" — in a figure? 
 aye, in more than "a figure." In the organization 
 of the American Bible Union he avowed anew, the 
 principle for which he had contended in the American 
 and Foreign Bible Society, and went forth lils.e another 
 Gideon, with a handful of men. There was no Saul, 
 nor Goliath among them, and it is said, not one Gamaliel. 
 For the most part they were "beardless" "sons of the 
 prophets," and their only weapons were "pitchers and 
 lamps.'''' But God so vindicated the good man's in- 
 tegrity, that, like Jacob, when he passed over Jordan, 
 he was escorted to the margin "between two bands." 
 
45 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 I have thus, in as brief a manner as I could under the 
 circumstances, given you a portraiture of your departed 
 pastor. Suffer a word of exhortation, and I close. To 
 you, my dear friends. 
 
 The devoted sons of Dr. Cone ; I cheerfully express 
 the profound sympathy, that many, many hearts, feel 
 Vv^ith you and for you. You feel your loss the more 
 sensibly, because the opportunity of conversing with 
 your father and mother both, in their dying hours, was in 
 in the providence of God, denied you. This is hard to 
 bear, and in less illustrious cases would be extremely 
 painful. But in your case, the keenness of the denial is 
 alleviated in the consideration, that both your parents 
 had always demeaned themselves toward you with a 
 sincerity of love, pure as a beam from the sun. Love to 
 you was the law of their dwelling, as much as honor and 
 purity were the law of their lives. And if they could 
 not express it when dying, you know that it w^as still 
 consuming in their breasts, an undying flame. Besides, 
 see the precious legacy they have left you in their 
 untarnished lives, their holy walk with God, and their 
 unanswered prayers. Had they addressed you from their 
 death-bed, what could they have added to the testimony 
 of their lives? God denied you the transient and 
 ephemeral counsels of a dying hour, to throw you back 
 
46 
 
 upon the tried and permanent virtues of real existence. 
 All that your venerated father could have done, he has 
 done often — namely, to lay his trembling hands upon 
 your heads, and pray, " The God who hath fed me 
 all my days, the Angel which redeemed me from all 
 evil; bless the lads." Kemember, then, that God is 
 faithful. Trust in him, and he will be your God. Now 
 that your father and mother stand before the throne of 
 God, look for answers to their prayers, being confident 
 that the joint prayers of your glorified father and mother 
 will never go unanswered upon their children. 
 
 Brethren of the First Baptist Church. Your 
 pastor's chair is vacant. You feel your loss, and yet you 
 cannot at present measure its extent. This is a solemn 
 and critical period in your history. You have been 
 highly honored in your pastor. But your res]_3onsibility 
 will be proportioned to your privilege. His wisdom and 
 prudence — his fidelity and simplicity — his courage and 
 patience — his zeal and disinterestedness — greatly increase 
 your responsibilities for the manner in which you have 
 improved his ministry. Give yourselves to humiliation 
 and to prayer. In view of this ministry, whoever may 
 be your future pastor, will enter this pulpit wdth great 
 fear and trembling. He will need great moral courage, 
 for his responsibilities will tax all his powers. But I am 
 reminded of the shortness of human life, and that some 
 of you will soon meet your pastor above. In the com- 
 fort of this truth, silence your lamentations and hope to 
 
47 
 
 the end. Already Le has joined a large company of those 
 whom he baptized into Christ, who died in the Lord 
 before him, and soon some of you will join the throng. 
 
 What shall I say to the Congregation ? I will 
 only ask you, dear friends., to proceed at once to self- 
 examination. See what account you can give of liis 
 ministry when you stand with him before the judgment 
 seat of Christ. He was a tender-hearted pastor to you. 
 Often a sense of the worth of your souls and your ruined 
 condition made him cry, " Oh ! that my head were 
 waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might 
 weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my 
 people." He wasted his strength and consumed his days 
 to promote your salvation. And are not all his warnings 
 and entreaties — his instructions and exhortations — writ- 
 ten in a book? Whatever others may say, you can 
 never say, "No man cared for my soul." All your 
 broken vows and reiterated compunctions of conscience 
 are written side by side in that same volume, and will be 
 swift witness that, at least, one humble, earnest servant 
 of God cared for you. how affectionately he cared for 
 you, the young members of this congregation ! Two-and- 
 thirty sermons, annual sermons, to the young of New York, 
 are registered on high. How many of them did yoic hear? 
 Your pastor had a peculiar sympathy with the young. 
 When his body was old, it carried about with it a soul as 
 young and blooming as yours. And he felt that he had 
 a peculiar mission to you. Shall it be, that by the 
 
48 
 
 blessing of God, his counsels and expostulations will be 
 honored in your conversion to Grod to-day ? O if it 
 should be whispered to-night in heaven among the angels 
 of Grod, of some young wanderer in this house, " Behold, 
 he prayeth," and that here he is to become a true fol- 
 lower of the Lamb, then, " He that went forth weeping 
 bearing precious seed, would doubtless come again with 
 rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." 
 
 Brethren and Friends of the Bible Union. Our 
 first President is dead. But his greatness and goodness 
 can never die while the Bible Union lives to exhibit the 
 lines he has left deep graven upon it. He has sent down 
 the great idea of his life bound to the destinies of this 
 organization. Take care of the burnished gem. There 
 is not a spot upon it now that he would erase. It will 
 lie in the heart of millions, when granite rocks are worn 
 to dust by the friction of revolving years. The thought 
 of his heart was an eloquent thought. He that has an 
 ear for true eloquence, may bow to catch the slow and 
 holy pulsations of his soul, echoing back his perpetual 
 eulogy in the bosom of the Bible Union. 
 
 And will not the God of the Bible overrule his removal 
 to the honorable memory of his departed servant, and 
 the glory of his own word ? Did you never notice that 
 the thick cloud which journeys with the sun, hiding his 
 brightness for a time, is often transformed into a canopy 
 mounted with Alps of gold, under which the descending 
 monarch of the firmament may set in glory ? It is so to- 
 
49 
 
 day with the Bible Union, in the setting of its chief 
 founder. The honesty of his motives, and the disinter- 
 estedness of his purposes, may have been obscured, but 
 dark prejudices against him and the Union are ah-eady 
 dissolving, and wreathing themselves for a transforma- 
 tion, to add new brilliancy to the enterprise and its 
 departing President. Brethren, we owe a meed of praise 
 to God that our principles were all unfolded, our plans 
 all matured, our splendid library collected, and our work 
 partly consummated before his manly vigor failed. An 
 army of friends, too strong to be resisted, has also been 
 raised up to breathe his spirit and emulate his example ; 
 and his memory shall ever incite us to new constancy, 
 and stir us up to bolder combat for the truth. We are 
 comforted with the thought, that a few of the fathers are 
 yet left to counsel and encourage us. Maclay, and Col- 
 gate, and Dagg, and Winter, and Powell, are with us 
 still. Our ensign was never stained nor trampled in the 
 dust while held in the hand of Spencer H. Cone, and the 
 unswerving integrity of a long life, is the pledge that we 
 need not fear for it in the hands of Archibald Maclay, if 
 it shall be confided to him. 
 
 We now yield up the memory of our beloved brother 
 to the behests of the Most High God. AVith him, the 
 struggle, and strife, and pain, and sin of earth are over. 
 The seal of death is upon him. His life is a tale that is 
 told. The martyrs and missionaries, the saints and angels 
 
50 
 
 of God, have already crowded "the gates of pearl" to 
 hail him welcome home ! Before now, he has heard the 
 strains from Staughton's new harp of gold — he has 
 talked with Judson of his sea- weed wreath — he has seen 
 Paul with his " crown of righteousness that fadeth not 
 away !" His wife has beckoned to him while yet a great 
 way off, and said, " Come in thou blessed of the Lord!" 
 His mother has bowled to loose the dusty sandals from 
 his feet ! His grand-child, Alice, has waved her green- 
 palm, for joy that he is more than conqueror though him 
 that hath loved him! Above all, "The Lamb in the 
 midst of the throne has fed him and led him forth to 
 fountains of living water, and God has wiped away all 
 tears from his eyes!" Kest! Rest! O! Conqueror 
 rest!" The Lord of the harvest, has brought thee to the 
 grave in hoary age, as the sheaf is gathered in, in its 
 season !" 
 
 Eev. A. Maclay, D. D., led in prayer; the closing hymn was read, 
 and the benediction pronounced, by Eev. S. Eemington. 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 for an overcoming faith 
 
 To cheer my dying hours, 
 To triumph o'er the monster Death, 
 
 And all his frightful powers ! 
 
 Joyful, with aU the strength I have, 
 
 My quivering lips shall sing, 
 Where is thy boasted victory, Grave 1 
 
 And where the monster'' s sting ? 
 
51 
 
 If sin be pardon'd I'm secure, 
 Death hath no sting beside ; 
 
 The law gives sin its damning power, 
 But Christ, my ransom, died. 
 
 Now to the God of victory 
 
 Immortal thanks be paid. 
 Who makes us conqu'rors while we die, 
 
 Through Christ our living Head. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 ' "Blessed with health and a great flow of animal spirits, God was 
 not in all my thoughts ; but though I had forgotten Him, He had not 
 forgotten me ; and He was pleased to visit me in a dream, which 
 no changes of time or place can erase from memory. 
 
 "I seemed to be falling down a well, backwards, with my face 
 turned towards the top. There I saw one standing, having the 
 appearance of a man. His face was fresh and ruddy ; his eyes, like 
 the blue sky, beamed with benevolence, and I recollect his counte- 
 nance as distinctly as though I had seen it but yesterday. He 
 intimated his willingness to lift me out of the well if I wished ; but I 
 looked to the sides, and looked down, and saw here and there projec- 
 tions of earth and stones ; and imagining that I could lay hold upon 
 these and climb up myself, I declined his assistance. I now began to 
 sway my body to the right and left, and to make vigorous efforts to 
 lay hold upon some projection, and thereby arrest my downward 
 course ; conscious, all the while, that the being at the top of the well, 
 whether man or angel, was able and willing to help — but I was 
 resolved to save myself. In an instant, to my utter amazement, the 
 well immeasurably widened, like the mouth of a bell, and was lost in 
 the bottomless pit. The flames almost touched me ; my arms sank 
 lifeless by my side ; my sti'ength was gone, my heart seemed to be 
 suffocated and ready to burst ; I looked up to the good being at the 
 top of the well ; he stood there still, regarding me with the teuderest 
 compassion ; in unspeakable anguish I cried. Save me ! save me ! and 
 in a moment I was at the top of the well — I was safe ! and the terrors 
 of my dream all vanished away. I have never regarded dreams as 
 
53 
 
 worth remembering, and yet this dream tokl me the story of my life 
 in such vivid colors, that I could not drive it from my mind. I was 
 oppressed — terrified — at the prospect of Hell, and began to pray and 
 read the Bible dihgently." (Dr. Cone's Ser. to the Young, 1844. j 
 
 ^ "In the month of November, 1813, after brel,kfast, I took up the 
 newspaper, and saw, among other things, a large sale of books 
 advertised at Wood's auction rooms, and said to myself, I will look in 
 as I go to the oflSce, and see what they are. I did so, and the first 
 book I took up was a volume of the works of John Newton. In an 
 instant, my whole life passed in review before me. I remembered 
 taking that book out of the College Library, while at Princeton, and 
 reading Newton's Life to my mother. His dream of the lost ring 
 reminded me forcibly of my dream of the well, and I felt an ardent 
 desire to own the book, and read the dream again. I left the rooms, 
 having first requested Mr. Wood, who was a particular friend, to put 
 it up for sale as soon as he saw me in the evening, as it was the only 
 Avork I wanted. He promised to do so, and I immediately went out 
 towards our office, which was nearly opposite ; but I had scarcely 
 reached the middle of the street, when a voice 'like the sound of 
 many waters,' said to me — This IS your last warning ! I 
 trembled like an aspen-leaf — I felt myself to be in the grasp of the 
 Almighty — and an earthquake could not have increased my dismay. 
 Sermons heard when only eight years old, on the Balm of Gilead, 
 and on the Lamb of God — the dream — all were painfully present, and 
 I thought my hour of doom had come. I went to the office, took 
 down the day-book to charge the new advertisements, but my hand 
 trembled so that I could not write, and I put the book back in its 
 place. I went out into South-street — then walked up and down Mar- 
 ket-street in the crowd, till dinner-time, to drown, if it were possible, 
 my thoughts and feelings. But all in vain. The sound stiU rung, 
 not only in my ears, but through my heart, like the sound of a 
 trumpet — This is your last warning ! I went home to dinner, 
 endeavoring to conceal my feeUngs as much as possible from my 
 wife. The day wore heavily away ; I was at the auction-room at the 
 hour ; purchased the book that seemed to be strangely connected 
 Avith my weal or woe ; returned to my house immediately, and read 
 Newton's eventful life entirely through before retiring to rest. There 
 seemed to be some strong points of resemblance between us ; he had 
 5 
 
54 
 
 been rescued from the wrath to come ! what woitIcI become of me ? 
 I found that he read the Bible, and obtamed Ught. I went to bed 
 with the determination of rising earlj to imitate his example, and 
 search the Scriptures. My dear young wife thought I was going 
 mad. Oh no ! no ! ? was not mad ! He who had compassion on the 
 poor Gadarene, was now bringing me to my right mind, in a way 
 that I knew not." ( Ser. to the Young, 1844.^ 
 
 3 "I wished immediately to be baptized. There was no question 
 as to the right way. I had read the New Testament so thoroughly 
 that the doctrines of the Gospel were perfectly plain, though I had 
 not conferred with flesh and blood, or asked any one what church I 
 ought to join. Next day I went to Bro. Lewis Eichards, Pastor of 
 the First Baptist Church, Baltimore, to inquire when I could be 
 baptized. He said he would converse with me on Wednesday, being 
 then engaged, and let me know. I called according to appointment, 
 and he requested me to relate my Christian experience. I told him 
 what God had done for my soul. He said if I would come to their 
 church meeting, next Friday afternoon, at 3 o'clock, he would be 
 glad to hear me say the same thing again. Accordingly I went. Half 
 a dozen brethren, and forty or fifty sisters were present. The old man 
 called me to him, beside the Communion table, and asked me to tell 
 those who were present what the Lord had done for me. As there 
 was no other candidate, he wished me to be particular in my relation. 
 I enjoyed great hberty of speech ; my soul was lifted up as upon the 
 wings of a dove, and I felt as if I should stay a very short time upon 
 earth. With a melting heart, I recounted all the way in which the 
 Lord my God had brought me out of darkness into His marvelous 
 light ; and the narrative was responded to by sobs and tears from 
 many of those who were present. The Pastor asked but one ques- 
 tion — when I wished to be baptized ? I replied, to-morrow. He said 
 it was too cold; the ice was thick, and he was lame with rheumatism. 
 Several members said — Oh ! try, Bro. Eichards ; we have not had one 
 baptism for so many months past. He consented. Many came and 
 took me by the hand, and bid me God-speed. Some said, 'we 
 have not heard such a sermon as your experience in many a year ; 
 the Lord will make a preacher of you.' On Saturday morning, Feb. 
 4th, 1814, I was baptized in the Patapsco, by Elder Lewis Eichards, 
 the ice having been cut for the purpose. It was more than a foot 
 
55 
 
 tliick, and the siDectators, with many of my old companions among 
 them, stood on the ice, within a few yards of where I was buried, and 
 went away saying, 'he is mad; he'll not stick to that long!' In 
 coming out of the water I felt a strong desire to tell to aU around, 
 what a dear Saviour I had found, but my sense of propriety prevented 
 me from speaking." (Ser. to the Young, 1844.; 
 
 * " In the course of three or four weeks (after his removal to Wash- 
 ington, D. C.) the deacon of the little church at the Navy Yard asked 
 me to go with hkn to their Lord's day morning prayer meeting. They 
 had no Pastor, and asked me to lead the meeting, and give the httle 
 baud of twenty or thirty, a word of exhortation. 
 
 " In reading 1 John ii : 1, I was forcibly impressed with the words, 
 ' If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, 
 the righteous ;' and I spoke from them without embarrassment for 
 nearly an hour, to my own utter surprise. This was my first attempt 
 to preach Christ crucified to my fellow-men. 
 
 "At their earnest request, I agreed to speak for them again the 
 next Lord's day morning. It somehow leaked out that Mr. Cone, 
 formerly on the stage, was to preach. When I went to fulfill the 
 appointment, their Httle meeting-house on the Commons, near the 
 Navy Yard, was surrounded by an immense crowd, while within it 
 was so full that I reached the pulpit steps with difficulty. This was 
 the greatest trial I ever had as a preacher, in view of an audience. 
 When I came in sight of the crowd, I was tempted to turn back, and 
 when I rose up to commence public worship, Satan assured me that 
 my mouth should be stopped if I attempted to preach; that the 
 cause of my precious Saviour would be sadly wounded ; that I had 
 . better say to the people, I was not prepared to address so large an 
 assembly, and then go home. The suggestion was so plausible, I 
 did not think at the moment that it came from the great Deceiver, and 
 I concluded to give out a hymn, read a chapter, pray, and sing again, 
 and then determine how to act. While singing the second hymn, 
 which closed with these words, 
 
 " Be thou my strength and righteousness, 
 My Jesus and my all!" 
 
 the worth of souls was presented to my mind with irresistible force , 
 I never once thought of the want of words to tell the story of the 
 
56 
 
 Cross, nor of the crowd of hearers, but directed them to Epheslans 
 ii : 10, ' For we are his workmanship, created iu Christ Jesus unto 
 good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in 
 them,' and spoke for an hour with fervor and rapiditj. Wonderfully 
 did the Lord help me that day ; and I felt it to be so easy to preach 
 Jesus, and I was so ready to spend and be spent in his service, that I 
 consented to an appointment for the next Lord's-day. My third 
 sermon was from Malachi iii : 16, ' Then they that feared the Lord 
 spake often one to another ; and the Lord hearkened and heard it,' 
 &c., and He gave me that day a soul for my hire, to encourage my 
 heart, and to strengthen my hands — blessed be His holy name forever! 
 Oh, what am I, or what my father's house, that to me this grace 
 should be given, 'to preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ?" (Ser. to the Yotmg, 1844.; 
 
 /