A new tone to female education was given by the establishment of a Female Seminary, for the instruction of females in this village, by Miss Sarah Pierce, in 1792. This was an untried experiment. Hitherto the education of young ladies, with few exceptions, had been neglected. The district school had limited their course of studies. Miss Pierce saw and regretted this, and devoted herself and all of her active life to the mental and moral culture of her sex. The experiment succeeded entirely. This Academy soon became the resort of young ladies from all portions of the country—from the cities and the towns. Then the country was preferred, as most suitable for female improvement, away from the frivolities and dissipation of fashionable life. Now, a different, not a better practice, prevails. Many of the grandmothers and mothers of the present generation were educated as well for genteel as for useful life, in this school, and its influence upon female character and accomplishments was great and extensive. It continued for more than forty years, and its venerable Principal and her sister assistant now live among us, the honored and honorable of their sex. John Pierpont in his Centennial Poem (1851), says: Still, for her shrewdness, must the “Nutmeg State” As Number One, among her sisters rate; And which, of all her counties, will compare, For size or strength, for water, soil or air, With our good mother county?—which has sown Her children, broad-cast, o’er a wider zone, Around the Globe? And has she not, by far, Out-done the rest, in giving, to the bar, And to the bench,—for half of all her years— The brightest names of half the hemispheres? Nor have “Creation’s lords” engrossed her care; Creation’s ladies have received their share:— For, when to Reeve and Gould the former came, To Pierce the latter:—Pierce, an honored name! Yea, thrice and four times honored, when it stands Beside his name, who comes, with bloody hands, From fields of battle; though the applauding shout From myriad mouths—and muskets—call it out; Though by him, armies were to victory led, And groves of laurel grow upon his head! Bloodless the honors that to Pierce are paid: Bloodless the garlands on her temples laid. To them, reproachful, no poor widow turns; No sister’s heart bleeds, and no mother mourns To see them flourish. Ne’er shall they be torn From off her honored brows. Long be they worn, To show the world how a good Teacher’s name Out-weighs, in real worth, the proudest warrior’s fame!—