“
[4]
my dear sir, I know it; I have not so good a right as you to walk about and look as if I were a member of society — but I pray you to let me pass — I am very harmless,” and they generally comply.
From Divinity Hall Wentworth wrote his mother about the graduation exercises:
July 19, 1845
. . The Exercises in the morning were . . . good; almost every fellow did better than I expected. ... Elderly ministers sniffed at radical sentiments, young ones smiled at conservative ditto, and Theodore Parker sneered (at least so imagined) at a severe criticism on Strauss.
Affianced damsels looked down blushingly when their several betrotheds came up, and looked up smilingly when the same gentlemen went down.
There were at least half a dozen of these interesting damsels, from the queenly Anna Shaw down to Henry Bond's little Woburn rustic; each had reason to be gratified and doubtless each had no doubt which young hero won most laurels.
This is the latest form of chivalry — intellect and beauty reciprocally admiring and admired.
I fear it will be several years ere those halls witness such another display of either.
It is really a superior class, yet, my hopes from it are, for one reason and another, not large.
I had the pleasure of introducing myself to my beloved Sunday-School teacher, Samuel May, who really seemed gratified thereat.
Then there was a dinner in Harvard Hall, a procession to which was marshalled by Dr. Pierce.
We heard, “Brethren, attention,” shouted as if by a superhuman 