ADDRESS OF ANSON J. UPSON.

In addressing this large assembly, I am much embarrassed, not only by the very complimentary introduction of my friend, DR. FOWLER, and by the fact that the historical atmosphere about us to-day, is already exhausted of almost all its reminiscences; but especially by a question of genealogy.

Last Sabbath afternoon, in the Reformed Dutch Church, where the congregation had assembled to bid farewell to a building in which they had worshipped for thirty years, JOHN F. SEYMOUR, Esq., read from the records of the Sunday School of that Church, a minute statement of the attendance and scholarship of one ANSON J. UPSON; and now that same Sunday School boy appears before you, as having been a scholar in the School of the First Presbyterian Church. Here is, apparently, some misunderstanding-some confusion of dates-some doubtful or double relationship. "Somebody's boy" is here, but he could hardly be asked to speak on this platform to-night, were it not that in the year 1830, the following formidable document was issued, a part of which reads as follows:

"UTICA, Oct. 1st, 1830.

"This certifies that ANSON JUDD UPSON is in good and regular standing, as a member of Sabbath School No. 1, of the First Presbyterian Church; and he is hereby dismissed and recommended to the care of the Sabbath School of the Reformed Dutch Church.

[Signed,]

B. W. THOMAS,
Supt. S. S. No. 1."

From the date of this paper, it must be evident that the memory of your speaker should be quite far-reaching and retentive to recall much that would be interesting in relation to the Sabbath School of this Church.

It is, perhaps, a mistake, yet it has sometimes seemed to me that possibly many of the very interesting reminiscences,

to which we have all listened with so much pleasure, were remembered at second hand. I may be peculiar in this regard, yet I can hardly recall very distinctly what would seem, now, likely to make a deep impression upon a boy's mind at the time. I remember, of course, the glorious old church, and the "Session Room," and how we boys used to go under the church, up into that room, run down the steps of the platform-pulpit between the doors, and then run up the aisles of the room-that แ were so nice to run up," to the back doors that led separately into the two Sunday School rooms for the boys and girls. I remember those square pews, where we used to sit all round the teacher with his desk in the center. I can see my teacher now-Mr. Alfred HUNT, and yet I remember distinctly but one lesson—about the reality of future punishment. We had a good class. Even here, in the presence of "GEO. S. WILSON's class," we are not ashamed to mention their names: SAMUEL E. WARNER, HENRY C. POTTER, SAMUEL L. MERRELL, FRANK FAY, SEYMOUR LANSING, and HARRISON DANA who so sadly was drowned in his boyhood. I will not say what excellent and useful men these names now represent. You know how they reflect honor upon this home of their boyhood, by their great usefulness and success in life. Two of them you have called from their spheres of honorable duty to take part in these services. How I wish all of us might sit again around our early teacher and thank him for those lessons, which though we may not distinctly remember them all, have influenced our life.

Even here, I feel as if I must do honor also to the teachers of my later boyhood, in the old Dutch Church—MR. JAS. KNOX and MR. JOHN G. FLOYD. A lesson taught me by the latter is repeated every year to successive Junior Classes in Hamilton College. I can never forget one occasion. You will not wonder that a Fourth of July Sunday School celebration should leave its impression upon the memory of a boy. Need I tell you how we Dutch Church boys and girls formed a procession on Broad Street, in front of the old church? how we marched so grandly "up Broad,

down Genesee, up Whitesboro Street to Cooper's Orchard ?' how we carried a banner, extemporized with historical propriety by DR. BETHUNE, of white silk, trimmed with orange colored fringe, and with orange colored ribbons dependent, held by a little boy on each side of a big one who held the staff? I have forgotten the name of the big boy and of the other little one, but I can see now how the orchard looked when we marched into it-so full of faces and banners. Doubtless we had "remarks," but I don't remember them. The bell of the foundry on the other side of the canal, kept ringing, it was said to disturb us, but most likely with patriotic intent. I know we marched back into the First Church, perhaps for more speeches. I only remember how grandly those great columns towered above the pulpit, with the organ between them; but especially how small our little banner of white silk looked, with its simple gilt inscription-"Hosanna," by the side of the great standard of the First Church School, with its varied and beautiful emblazonry. Somehow. I felt as if I wanted to stand up for that little banner then; and though I would not forget my first love, I fear I have not yet quite lost the feeling.

These, I know, are trifling reminiscences, hardly worth repeating. Do not suppose that in my opinion, these are all that remain in the memory of any of us. Many an event in life is no longer remembered, the effect of which will never pass away. So with the lessons of our Sabbath School days. God bless the teachers who taught us so many! One thing is certain: if we may determine the value of the lessons taught by their effect upon character, then may we be sure that too high an estimate can not be placed upon the instructions of the past fifty years. Few of these lessons may be, singly, remembered, yet the many souls who have gone up to heaven from these Sabbath School classes, attest their value. More than this: the hundred missionaries and ministers, and the many private Christians, who here so early learned to find the way of life, could never have walked therein, if a supernatural power-the Holy Spirit, had not made the words of these teachers influential in

leading them thither. I find in the result of their labors, if I did not otherwise know it, that these teachers of the past were men and women of prayer. For, in answer to their prayers, God impressed the lessons they taught, so deeply upon the minds and hearts of their scholars, that they entered into and formed a part of their character, and so can hardly be recalled. Very few men have, like ROBERT SOUTHEY, in his autobiography, the introspective mental power to trace their own intellectual development. To still fewer, has God granted the ability to trace back the development of their own religious character, even to its earthly sources.

But, God be thanked, each one of us can remember enough! How delightful have been the reminiscences of the past few days in public assemblies and in private circles, all over this happy city! We remember enough to pay deserved honor to our early benefactors. We remember enough to know that their work was for Christ! that with them Christ was all in all! The poor boy who left your city in his boyhood to begin a career of vice, and came back in his early manhood, to die of a loathsome disease in your hospital, remembered enough when he could recall nothing but the name of his early Sunday School teacher, Mrs. OSTROM, that so she might hasten to his side and lead him, as she did, in his dying hour to Jesus.

Teachers of to-day, as you listen to the praises that have been lavished upon the teachers of the past, thank God and take courage! Fifty years may pass, but you and your work will not be forgotten. And what professional or political honor can compare with this? It "lays hold upon eternal life." Can you conceive of a more thrilling joy than to meet, as believe me, you may, on some heavenly hill, a ransomed soul, whom your poor words have led to the Saviour, and with him worship there forever our com. mon Lord!

ADDRESS OF REV. EDWARD BRIGHT.

REV. MR. BRIGHT referred to 1824, when having come to Utica from a neighboring town, he heard of a Sabbath School Examination which was to be held in the Presbyterian Church-that old wooden church that then stood on the corner of Washington and Liberty streets, with its pulpit on one side, a gallery and an organ opposite, and a gallery at each end, and seats enough below to accommodate, as it seemed to him then, half the town. He succeeded in securing a seat in the west gallery, from which he saw and heard all. Every place where any one could sit or stand was occupied. Hundreds of Sunday School children were there, in the body of the house, and they answered the many questions asked them by the Superintendent, in a manner that showed an almost incredible amount of knowledge of the Scriptures, for every answer was given in an appropriate verse, and that not in concert, but one by one. When this most interesting exercise was concluded, and it was the longest of the evening, a boy, about the speaker's own age, came upon a small platform in front of the pulpit, to deliver an address; the rhetoric, the logic, and the elocution of which electrified at least one young heart in that audience. It was there, in that old gallery, while under the spell of the eloquence of JOHN H. EDMONDS, than which name none is more worthy to be beloved and honored, that that one heart formed the purpose to become a Sunday School scholar.

The speaker referred to the following Sabbath, when he was so kindly received by Mr. PARMELE, the Superintendent, and assigned to the class of Mr. GEORGE S. WILSON, when he was surprised to find among six or seven other boys, the eloquent young orator who had drawn him to the school. It was such a class as any one might be proud to be connected with, and no words could overdraw the admiration and love in which every member of it held his teacher. The glance of his eye, and the pressure of his hand, were but the expression of love-of love so genuine