I take it that one prominent feature of the Chautauqua movement is the desire and endeavor to bring those privileges which have been hitherto to a large extent the possession of the few, within reach of as large a circle as possible—the attempt to bring the scholarship of the scholarly into far closer relations with the wants of the people. And here I am reminded of the new Oxford movement, of which you have no doubt heard—the resolution of a large number of young Oxonians to devote themselves to work in the East End of London for the educational and social amelioration of its wretched poor. The plan involves residences among the people and brotherly intercourse with them. It remains to be seen, whether, without those high Christian motives which have always been found necessary in the past, but so far are not at all acknowledged, there will be that “patient continuance in well-doing,” without which nothing worthy can be accomplished. But whatever may be thought as to the probable success and permanence of the movement, it is certainly a most gratifying sign of the times. But I am allowing myself to drift into a treatise _de omnibus rebus et quibus dam aliis_, and must therefore call a halt, and come to a period, which I do with renewed congratulations for the past and hearty good wishes and earnest prayers for a happy holiday season, and a prosperous and fruitful year of work. I shall not sign myself your Counselor, though you honor me with the title, for I am sure that any counsel I can give at this vast distance is of very small account, but I do heartily call myself your sincere friend, JOHN MONRO GIBSON. Many kind letters of greeting and encouragement were read. No one stirred a deeper sympathy than that from Mrs. Abbey Gough, of Westfield, N. Y., the senior graduate of the C. L. S. C.: “Although I am too feeble to be with you to-day, and although I am nearly eighty-four years old, I am with you in spirit. God bless the C. L. S. C., and God bless the Class of ’82.” Dr. Vincent said: “This dear woman marched in through the gate when eighty-two years of age; her son of over fifty, or about fifty, behind her; his daughter of twenty, perhaps, behind him; three generations in that Class of ’82. She still lives, at the age of eighty-four, to give greeting on this glad day.” The letters were followed by the reports from the assemblies, after which Dr. Vincent addressed the Class of ’84 as follows: ADDRESS OF DR. VINCENT.