Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 1

[92] Hall, in College House, Number 1, nearly opposite to its present site. Of the law-students, Sumner associated most with his college classmate Browne, who, entering at the same time, was, on account of a year's study in an office, advanced to the Middle Class; with Wendell Phillips, who, graduating from college a year later than Sumner, now entered with him the Junior Class; with Henry W. Paine, of Winslow, Me.,¹ who entered Sumner's class in the spring of 1832, and whose acquaintance he then made; and with his classmate Hopkinson, who joined the school in the autumn of that year.² With each of these he discussed common studies and plans of life, in his room and in occasional walks. Sumner and Phillips had been fellow-students, though in different classes, at the Latin School and in college; but their familiar acquaintance dates from their connection with the Law School.³

Sumner had now attained the full height of his manhood,— six feet and two inches. He was tall and gaunt, weighing only one hundred and twenty pounds. His hair was dark-brown; his eyes hazel, and inflamed by excessive use; his face sharp-featured; his teeth gleaming with whiteness; his complexion dark and not clear; his visage and person not attractive to the eye, and far unlike his presence in later life, when with full proportions and classic features he arrested attention in the Senate and on the street. He was never disabled by illness, and seemed exempt from the physical limitations which beset others, denying himself the exercise and sleep which Nature commands. He was swift on his feet, striding from Boston to Cambridge at the pace of nearly five miles an hour, and putting out of breath any companion who had been unlucky enough to undertake the walk with him. His voice was strong, clear, and sonorous. His countenance was lighted up with expression, and his genial smile won friends upon an introduction. His spirits were buoyant