which at Exeter of course meant Harvard—and by staying another twelvemonth in the advanced class had anticipated the studies of freshman year.
Entering Harvard, therefore, as a “fresh soph,” with studious habits, bad eyesight, and no means, he was little known in the class of ’51. Green, its marshal when it took part in the great parade to celebrate the “turning on” of Cochituate water in Boston, noticed Langdell’s absence from the march, and next day took him to task. “I preferred to study,” was the simple reply. A few, older than their years, appreciated his intellectual gifts and his personality, so charming when once his reserve was broken through. They used to engage him in long expositions and discussions, memorable in after life. For the most part, however, he lived alone in a room in Divinity Hall, perfecting his reasoning powers as quietly and as patiently as the diamond-cutter perfects one by one the facets on the gem that, completed, will dazzle the world.
Langdell’s undergraduate life was very brief. He entered in September of 1848, and by November of 1849, do what he would, his funds were gone. To replenish them, he had to leave for a year of teaching. At first he meant to return and continue his general education. But during that winter came the great decision: he would go at once into the law. In May of 1850
