In 1862, he speaks to his girls and the public in this fashion: "The organization of this school is unlike all others in Virginia. To some extent it is denominational, but decidedly anti-sectarian. Its Trustees perpetuate their own existence. Its funds cannot revert to any other object. It is responsible to no religious body and its success depends solely on its merits. It looks to permanent existence and to the good of the whole commonwealth. Its successes have exceeded the most sanguine expectations of its friends. It was first to adopt a high standard of classical education for young women in Virginia; first to place the English Department under a regular professor; and first in the nation to adopt the elective system of studies. With the prestige of a history of twenty years, it may properly and confidently appeal to the general public to make it an addition to the permanent wealth and moral elevation of the country. I believe its reputation will spread until it draws pupils from all over the South." Under the distressful conditions, is there not something morally grand in this utterance? It was a prophetic speech, and the daring prediction was more than realized in the thirty years that followed. In 1863, one hundred girls filled every room, and seventy-five applicants were turned away. Oh, for the forty-six student-rooms in that unfinished hulk! Sequestered snugly in the mountains, no Institution in the country suffered less from the demoralization of the war. Families driven from the areas of invasion sent their daughters to the haven of its seclusion. The faculty of four gentlemen and three ladies had ample occupation. It was at this juncture that the President dropped the wise remark that the success of an Institution demands a capable manager as much as qualified instructors, and that he is harder to find. Of course, during this period, the depreciated currency and the correspondingly high cost of living required advance in the rates of the tuition and board. In 1864, one hundred and twenty-eight students were crowded into the rooms, and an equal number were turned away. In these days of inevitable stringency, the fare was far from luxurious, but it was accepted by teacher and pupil with that cheerfulness which becomes sensible and considerate people.