It is just a third of a century since the American Missionary Association was organized. That period has been crowded with stirring events, working marked changes at the time in the opinions and history of mankind, and pregnant with other and far-reaching consequences. In no respect has this been more true than in regard to the races for whose benefit the Association was mainly formed. Thirty-three years ago slavery ruled in America with the iron hand, and with the purpose and prospect of enlarged sway; now the slaves are free, and the far-reaching consequences of that event are but beginning to be realized. Thirty-three years ago tropical Africa was almost as much unknown as in the days of Herodotus and Ptolemy; now its great central lakes have been traced and mapped, the great mystery of the Nile sources has been solved, and Stanley has traversed the continent from Zanzibar to the mouth of the Congo. The far-reaching consequences of these discoveries to commerce and to Christian civilization we have not yet begun to realize. The American Missionary Association was called into existence to take some humble part in these events. The wisdom of its existence was recognized at the outset by the few only; by the many—even of good men—it was regarded with indifference or hostility. We that took part in those stirring times find it difficult now to recall their intense earnestness—the inexorable control exercised by slavery over the pulpit, the press and the forum, the unbounded anxiety of conservative people to avoid or to crush the agitation, and their utter impatience with those who persisted in it. On the 7th of March, 1850, Daniel Webster made his famous speech in support of the Fugitive Slave Law, and it is humiliating to recall the fulsome eulogies of that speech that came from pulpits and theological seminaries, as well as from politicians and merchants, and it arouses anew a sense of indignation to think of the intimidation attempted toward those who opposed that infamous law. But there _were_ men in all the churches and in both political parties who were fully aroused to the guilt and danger of slavery—who felt that the hour had come when, through all opposition and danger, they must press for its overthrow. Among these persistent agitators were not only such stalwart leaders as John Quincy Adams and William Lloyd Garrison, but a large number who may be represented by our late and honored brother, Rev. Simeon S. Jocelyn, who, though one of the gentlest, most amiable and most cautious of men, yet possessed a conscience so unclouded, and a sympathy with the slave so strong, that no fear of consequences could deter him.