The year just ended has been one of hard work and great prosperity.  The attendance has been not only larger than ever before, but constant, and the result of such steady and persistent work is, as might be expected, gratifying progress in all departments.

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EXTRACT FROM A VALEDICTORY ADDRESS.

An account of the closing exercises of Avery Institute in South Carolina, was given in the MISSIONARY last month.  A copy of the valedictory address of one of the pupils has been sent to us, from which we excerpt one or two passages to give the flavor of the occasion.  We think it would be creditable to any school of like grade in the country.

To-day we are to go forth.  Is it strange that emotions deep and solemn should pervade our hearts?  Amid these emotions, gratitude stands prominent—­gratitude to the honored Association which has placed within our reach these opportunities for the development of intellect and of character that fit us to take our places in life as intelligent men and women.  In behalf of the class of ’89 and of all our schoolmates, we return to THE AMERICAN MISSIONARY ASSOCIATION our heartfelt thanks, and invoke for it the richest blessings of Him who maketh rich....  In bidding adieu to school life, the thought which presses most forcibly is that we are supposed now to be ready for our duties in life.  Let us rather remember that we have but caught a glimpse of the knowledge which lies beyond and which beckons to us.  May our thirst for it be insatiable.  Let us take care of each day and each hour, and show to our Heavenly Father that we love his precepts, and are seeking to live true and holy lives.  Our places here will soon be filled, but nothing will take away from our hearts the memories of dear old Avery.

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MISSIONARY VISITS.

BY MRS. A.W.  CURTIS.

We were going out for a ride, a pleasure ride, a mission of mercy to the sick and afflicted, to carry them spiritual and physical comforts.

We have no missionary horse and buggy, and it was not an elegant equipage standing before our door.  Our steed was a very lank, bony, long-eared mule, and the vehicle a rather disreputable looking old delivery wagon, kindly loaned to us by our grocer; but we were thankful for anything that would take us safely.  We soon came to a deep, ugly-looking ravine, that must be crossed.  I walked over the log that spanned it, while Dominie “rattled his bones over the stones,” down the steep descent, and up the farther side in safety, thanks to the sure-footed mule.  Just beyond was a small rude cabin.  The old chimney had tumbled down, leaving nearly the whole of one side entirely open to the weather.  Inside, upon a bed that nearly filled the small room, lay a woman who was paralyzed.  A little child was her only attendant.  Some kind neighbor, however, had made her clean and comfortable for the day.  The poor woman could not move, but her dark eyes beamed with delight at the sight of us, and the poor drawn face expressed the joy she could not speak.  We talked of the dear friend Jesus, whom she loved and trusted, sang together a song of faith, and commended her to heaven’s mercy and kindness, in prayer.