This led me to inquire how far the law protected such little beings, and how far institutions gave relief either to poor mothers by boarding their offspring, or to foundlings. This brought me in contact with one of the greatest philanthropists to these little creatures, namely, Miss Matilda Goddard, who had at that time provided good homes for about eight hundred infants, keeping a record as well as an oversight of them all. No public provision existed save a few places in connection with a Roman Catholic institution. I therefore proposed to a few friends of mine the establishment of a temporary asylum for infants, and an apartment for this purpose was secured at the corner of Washington and Oak streets. Small as was this beginning, we having about eight babies, it drew the attention of a large number of philanthropists to the need of looking after these poor beings. And then the Massachusetts Infant Asylum, as well as other provisions for these dependents upon the Commonwealth, were called into existence. The result was the saving of many a valuable life and the directing of the attention of the benevolent to the absolute need of watchfulness over those helpless beings who are at the mercy of strangers during the first days or years of their lives. The work at the college continued to be unsatisfactory to me, and the year 1862, which was to become of such great importance to womankind in general and to me in special, opened in the usual prosaic custom then prevailing, namely, with every day filled with routine work. However, I felt very excited, as well as very uncertain how to shape my plans and prospects, for I had decided to leave the college and its little hospital at the close of the term in March. I had communicated my intention to the directors of the college at the close of the year of my engagement, in June, 1861. One of the most interested of the directors was Mr. Samuel E. Sewall. He asked me what my reasons were for giving up the position, and I replied in a letter to him of which I here make a copy: About two years have passed since I became connected with the New England Female Medical College. Twice I have signed the diplomas of the graduating class, both times with reluctance and under protest. My work as teacher in the college and as physician in the medical department has not been performed with that ease which is the result of a mutual understanding of all engaged in the same purpose, nor has it given me satisfaction. Not one of my expectations for a thorough medical education for women has been realized; indeed, I could not even do what has been in my power heretofore, namely, discountenance as physicians those women who do not deserve that name. On the contrary, I am obliged by the resolve of the majority to put my name to diplomas which justify the holders in presenting themselves to the community as fitted to practice.