Emerson was not particularly distinguished in College.  Having a near connection in the same class as he, and being, as a Cambridge boy, generally familiar with the names of the more noted young men in College from the year when George Bancroft, Caleb Cushing, and Francis William Winthrop graduated until after I myself left College, I might have expected to hear something of a young man who afterwards became one of the great writers of his time.  I do not recollect hearing of him except as keeping school for a short time in Cambridge, before he settled as a minister.  His classmate, Mr. Josiah Quincy, writes thus of his college days:—­

“Two only of my classmates can be fairly said to have got into history, although one of them, Charles W. Upham [the connection of mine referred to above] has written history very acceptably.  Ralph Waldo Emerson and Robert W. Barnwell, for widely different reasons, have caused their names to be known to well-informed Americans.  Of Emerson, I regret to say, there are few notices in my journals.  Here is the sort of way in which I speak of the man who was to make so profound an impression upon the thought of his time.  ’I went to the chapel to hear Emerson’s dissertation:  a very good one, but rather too long to give much pleasure to the hearers.’  The fault, I suspect, was in the hearers; and another fact which I have mentioned goes to confirm this belief.  It seems that Emerson accepted the duty of delivering the Poem on Class Day, after seven others had been asked who positively, refused.  So it appears that, in the opinion of this critical class, the author of the ‘Woodnotes’ and the ’Humble Bee’ ranked about eighth in poetical ability.  It can only be because the works of the other five [seven] have been ‘heroically unwritten’ that a different impression has come to prevail in the outside world.  But if, according to the measurement of undergraduates, Emerson’s ability as a poet was not conspicuous, it must also be admitted that, in the judgment of persons old enough to know better, he was not credited with that mastery of weighty prose which the world has since accorded him.  In our senior year the higher classes competed for the Boylston prizes for English composition.  Emerson and I sent in our essays with the rest and were fortunate enough to take the two prizes; but—­Alas for the infallibility of academic decisions!  Emerson received the second prize.  I was of course much pleased with the award of this intelligent committee, and should have been still more gratified had they mentioned that the man who was to be the most original and influential writer born in America was my unsuccessful competitor.  But Emerson, incubating over deeper matters than were dreamt of in the established philosophy of elegant letters, seems to have given no sign of the power that was fashioning itself for leadership in a new time.  He was quiet, unobtrusive, and only a fair scholar according to the standard of the College authorities.  And this is really all I have to say about my most distinguished classmate.”

Barnwell, the first scholar in the class, delivered the Valedictory Oration, and Emerson the Poem.  Neither of these performances was highly spoken of by Mr. Quincy.