Nathaniel Hawthorne | Page 7

its
professors were kindly and cultivated men, and its curriculum the
simple academic course of those days. Hawthorne's class, immortalized
fifty years later by Longfellow's grave and tender anniversary lines,
"Morituri Salutamus," was destined to unusual distinction in after life.
Longfellow, its scholastic star, was a boy of fourteen, favored by the
regard of the professors, and belonging to the more studious and steady
set of fellows, who gathered in the Peucinian Society. Hawthorne
joined the rival organisation, the Athenaeum, a more free and
boisterous group of lower standing in their studies, described as the
more democratic in their feelings. He is remembered as "a slender lad,
having a massive head, with dark, brilliant, and most expressive eyes,
heavy eyebrows, and a profusion of dark hair." He carried his head on
one side, which gave a singularity to his figure, and he had generally a
countrified appearance; but he took his place among his mates without
much observation. He was reticent in speech and reserved in manner,
and he was averse to intimacy; he had, nevertheless, a full share in
collegiate life and showed no signs of withdrawal from the common
arena. He did not indulge in sports, saving some rough-and-tumble play,
nor did he ride horseback or drive, nor apparently did he care for that
side of youthful life at all, though he was willing to fight on occasion,
and joined the military company of which Pierce was captain. His

athleticism seems to have been confined to his form. He played cards
for small stakes, being a member of the Androscoggin Loo Club, and
he took his part in the convivial drinking of the set where he made one,
winning the repute of possessing a strong head. These indulgences were
almost too trifling to deserve mention, for the scale of life at Bowdoin
was of the most inexpensive order, and though there was light
gambling and occasional jollification, bad habits were practically
impossible in these directions. He was certainly not ashamed of his
doings, for on being detected in one of these scrapes, at the end of his
Freshman year, anticipating a letter of the President, he wrote to his
mother, May 30, 1822, an account of the affair:--
MY DEAR MOTHER,--I hope you have safely arrived in Salem. I
have nothing particular to inform you of, except that all the
card-players in college have been found out, and my unfortunate self
among the number. One has been dismissed from college, two
suspended, and the rest, with myself, have been fined fifty cents each. I
believe the President intends to write to the friends of all the
delinquents. Should that be the case, you must show the letter to
nobody. If I am again detected, I shall have the honor of being
suspended; when the President asked what we played for, I thought it
proper to inform him it was fifty cents, although it happened to be a
quart of wine; but if I had told him of that, he would probably have
fined me for having a blow. There was no untruth in the case, as the
wine cost fifty cents. I have not played at all this term. I have not drank
any kind of spirits or wine this term, and shall not till the last week.
* * * * *
He takes up the subject again in a letter to one of his sisters, August 5,
1822:--
"To quiet your suspicions, I can assure you that I am neither 'dead,
absconded, or anything worse.' I have involved myself in no 'foolish
scrape,' as you say all my friends suppose; but ever since my
misfortune I have been as steady as a sign-post, and as sober as a
deacon, have been in no 'blows' this term, nor drank any kind of 'wine
or strong drink.' So that your comparison of me to the 'prodigious son'

will hold good in nothing, except that I shall probably return penniless,
for I have had no money this six weeks.... The President's message is
not so severe as I expected. I perceive that he thinks I have been led
away by the wicked ones, in which, however, he is greatly mistaken. I
was full as willing to play as the person he suspects of having enticed
me, and would have been influenced by no one. I have a great mind to
commence playing again, merely to show him that I scorn to be
seduced by another into anything wrong."
The last week of the term and the close of the Senior year appear to
have been the seasons of conviviality, and Hawthorne's life of this sort
ended with his being an officer of the Navy Club, an impromptu
association of those of his classmates, fourteen out of thirty-eight, who
for one reason