I am going among strangers, & I shall miss your kindly sympathy. I shall miss the tones of friendship, heard from childhood until now. I shall miss these advisers on whose arms I have leaned until age has almost bowed them to the silent & narrow house, & sprinkled my locks with gray—I shall miss those pupils, who, though years have elapsed since they heard my instructions, still beam upon me as they pass, with their kindly faces, & look as if satisfied, that they too were educated in the Litchfield School—I am going to a land of strangers to acquire new friends, to lean on new advisers, to see the faces of new pupils, at an age when change is the most dreaded, & old associations the most powerfully felt—It would be a gratification in this hour, to feel that I might retain that friendship, & those regards, I have held so long & prized so highly— Permit me to express a hope that the Institution to which I have given my hopes & my fears, for nearly 20. years, will still be preserved on its former footing, & that yet very many more may be added to the list of the 3000 of its former pupils, & that the declining years of her, who, for forty years, has superintended its operations, & who was the pioneer in the march of female education in this whole land, may be soothed by the success of that which has been her object in life, & will be the “crown of her rejoicing, in the day of her Lord”— To the pupils of this term, I return my grateful thanks, for their attention & their kindness; for their progress in science, & their improvement in character—I hope that their conduct in this world will be such as to reflect honour on the Institution, that educated them, & that their preparation for another will be founded on those gospel principals that will unite them around the throne of God forever.— The time will soon arrive, when all of us shall have done with all that is mortal & earthly; when the tongue that utters this farewell, & the ears that hear it, shall be alike motionless in dust; & when a few grassy hillocks by the graves of our fathers shall be all that earth has left to us; shall we not, all of us, then, make that preparation which will fit us for scenes beyond this world, & its perishing employments, when the realities of Eternity, will be around us, & nothing but the faith of the gospel, be of abiding benefit?— EXTRACT FROM ADDRESS ON ASSUMING CHARGE OF THE HARTFORD FEMALE SEMINARY. December 2^{nd} 1832